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Issue 9.4 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; ~uesfions Answered, Books I~evi~wed~ -Report~+o~om~ RI::VIi=W FOR Ri::LI IOUS VOLUME IX JULY, 1"950 NUMBER CONTENTS MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER~-Gerald Kelly, S.J . 169 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES--Stephen Brown, S.J . 176 ADJUSTMENT OF NEGRO CHILDREN TO A MIXED PAROCHIAL SCHOOL--A Sister of the Holy Names 179 OUR cONTRIBUTORS . 184 ATTEND TO READING--Augustine Klaas, S.J . 185 BOOK REVIEWS-- St. Teresa of Jesus; Storm of Glory; Purgatory; Psychiatry and Asceti-cism . 197 BOOK NOTICES . 201 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 203 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Passionist Ghampion; Company of Mary; Servants of Mary; Little Office; Varia . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 18. How to Fill the Water Cruet . ; . 207 19. The Perplexed Conscience . 207 20. Several Hosts to One Communicant . 208 REPORT TO ROME . 209 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1950. Vol. IX, No.,4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, a~d November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1950. by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscfiptlon price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wr|t|ng to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Memoir 6t:. All:red chneider Gerald Kelly, S.3. ~N OUR MARCH number (p. 112) we announced the sudden death of Father Alfred F. Sc, hneider, S.3. Shortly after this announcement a loyal friend of the Review wrote to us: "The notice about Father Alfred Schneider made'me make remembrance of him. Now I understand that note of gentleness and considerateness which I always found in his prompt and courteous replies." This note is typical of what scores of others might have written. During his years as editorial secretary Father Schneider carried on most of our editorial business with subscribers and authors; and the number of those who benefited by h'is prompt and kindly service is very large. These, we feel sure, would like to know more about him than we were able to put into a brief notice. Another reason for the present sketch is the value of Father Schneider to the Review itself.¯ We are not waxing poetic when we say that he brought us hope in our darkest hour. Our charter sub-scribers will remember that we had hardly launched this enterprise when war, with all its problems, was upon us. The war made it difficult to get materials and raised the price of such as were available. The war and the postwar period made such demands on college and seminary personnel that many priests and religious who would have helped us with articles had not the leisure. And this same shortage of personnel made it necessary for the editorial board to handle countless details for which they were not prepared. Despite the fact that we had the generous help of Jesuit scholastics and young priests, our early years were very dark. The difficulties just outlined grew in intensity through the early ¯ years of our publication until the middle of 1944. That was when Father Schneider brought relief. We do not wish to imply that, without him, we should have had to discontinue publication---only God knows that; but we can certainly say that his. help towards th~ continuance of this Review was immeasurable, if not absolutely essential. The following pages are not a "biography" of Father Schneider. For the most part they simply record the present writer's personal impressions gleaned through more than five years of intimate col-laboration with Father Schneider. These memories are supplemented, 169 GERALD KELLY Ret,qeto for Religious however, with data supplied by others and with a few facts obtained " from Father.Schneider's notes. Alfred F. Schneider was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, February 8, 1899. He was one of the oldest of a large family. He attended St. Agnes Grade School, took a two-year commercial course at St. Thomas College, and went to work. After several years of steno-graphic work in various business houses he became secretary to the President of the St. Paul-Minneapolis Street Car Company. During these years he managed to cover a regular high school course by attending night school. His business and stenographic experience was obviously an invaluable asset to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He was an excellent typist, a good bookkeeper, and, of course, he knew shorthand. For myself, I found his shorthand both enviable and exasperating. Often I sat at my desk green-eyed as I watched him make notes with light-ning rapidity. Often, too, was I exasperated when I found on my desk a manuscript, the margin of which was covered with "hen scratches"--the common designation in our office for his shorthand notations. The exasperation, incidentally, did not end with his death. Some books he had been reviewing contained only a few scraps of paper covered with the "hen scratches"; and his retreat notes and personal notes, which I was privileged to examine, were scarcely more revealing. I am told that when he first considered the priesthood his thoughts were directed toward the diocesan clergy; later--for some reason contained perhaps in his shorthand legacy--they centered on the Jesuits. At the age of twenty-four he went to Campion College, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, to review his Latin and other studies. He entered the novitate at Florissant, Missouri, on August 8, 1924. In a Jesuit novitiate (and very likely in other novitiates) a man of twenty-five is considered a sort of patriarch. Regulations to th~ contrary notwithstanding, such men are often christened "Pop." Father Schneider was no exception to this contrary-to-regulations custom; he became Pop Schneider. Moreover, because of his com-paratively venerable age he was transferred to the Juniorate after having completed only one year of novitiate. Among us, these older novices who follow the Juniorate regime during their second year of noviceship are sometimes referred to as "skullcap Juniors." The origin of this expression seems to be that "once upon a time" ~he novices following the Juniorate order wore skullcaps to distinguish 170 July, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER them from the ordinary novices, who had no special head covering, and from the full-fledged Juniors, who had taken their vows and were supposed to wear the biretta.' As amatter of fact, though there were several "skullcap Juniors" while I was at Florissant, I never saw a skullcap except on some venerable lay Brother. On the occasion of his first vows, August 15, 1926, the Juniors gave their "skullcap" confrere a grand reception; and his age did not prevent him from responding with as much warmth as would the youngest novice. In a letter to his parents, afte'r having expressed great joy o'~er his religious profession, he added: "I was the only ,lunio~? among the vow men and my fellow- Juniors gave me a specially warm reception. A huge bouquet of snowballs stood on my desk, and a smaller bouquet of other flowers; and then there were letters, and notes of congratulation, with little personal notes, and holy cards, so that when I sat down to read them I felt like a big business man opening his morning's mail. I believe that every Junior in the house had something for me. May God bless them all a thousand times for their kindness.''* His warmth was not confined to his fellow-Jesuits. In this same letter he very beautifully expressed his affection for and gratitude to his parents: "It would, of course, be impossible for me to tell you all that I felt or thought or did on, such a never-to-be-forgotten day as yester-day; but I don't want you to think for a moment that now I am wholly cut off from you. It is true I now belong to the Lord, but my love for the best father and mother in the world is not one whir diminished. The Lord would be ill-pleased with me were I ever to forget the big debt of gratitude that I owe you. It. is only too true that one does not appreciate father and mother.' until one is separated from them; and if I have not always shown you the love, respect, and gratitude that I owe you, I will try now to make up for it by my prayers and true love for you. So, do not think that in giving a son and daughter to Christ [one of his sisters is in the convent] that you are losing. No, Mother and Dad, you are gaining immeasur-ably; and I feel certa,¯ l,n that as the years roll o{n you wdl understand that more and more. 1During my tine at Florissant a "skullcap .lunior" named Peter A. Brooks took his vows. The ,lunlors decorated his desk not only with flowers but with a large sign bearing the words, "Peter Noster." Not so many y~ars later he became "Pater Noster" when he was made Provincial oi~ the Missouri P}ovince. As provincial, he obtained permission for us to start this Reoiet~ and asstste~ us with constant encour-agement during our early years. 171 GERALD KELLY Reoieto tot Religiotts The years did roll on. From 1927 to 1930, Father Schneide~ made his philosophical studies at Mount St. MichaeI's, near Spokane, Washington; from 1930 to 1932, he taught at Campion; and from 1932 to 1936, he made the course of theology at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. He was ordained at Woodstock in June, 1935. For the spiritual formation of a Jesuit tbd most important single period is the "Year of Third Probation," commonly called the ter-tianship. During this year, and especially during the long retreat which is made near the beginning of the year, one crystallizes the ideal that has been gradually forming during the preceding years of training. Father Schneider made his tertianship at Cleveland, Ohio, from the beginning, of September, 1936, to the end of June, 1937. For the most part, the spiritual notes made during his long retreat are "hen scratches"--absolutely unrevealing, as far as I am concerned; fortunately, however, the principal items of his ]Election are in long-hand. Among his personal needs he lists the "grace to be an exem-plary priest and Jesuit." That he received this grace and that he co-operated with it admirably would be the unhesitating testimony . of all who lived with him here at St. Mary's. Of very special interest is the fact that be considered human respect and indolence to be the principal obstacles in his pursuit of perfection. This item aptly illustrates the old saying that one never knows the true spiritual stature of a man unless he knows his "old Adam." During all the time I knew him I revered him as a man of principle and industry; and I feel sure that all the others in our office bad similar sentiments. We would not have suspected that he could ever seriously accuse himself of either human respect or indolence. If these vices represented his "old Adam," then in him the "new Adam" seems to have attained a complete victory. Afte'r tertianship Father Schneider was assigned to St. Mary's for two years of private study of canon law. The original plan had been to send him to Rome for a doctorate, but this had to be changed because of the condition of his health. In 1939 he began a series of rapid changes which included two years of teaching at St. Louis University, one year as assistant at the parish of St. Ferdinand's, Florissant, two more years at Campion, then back to St. Mary's in the fall of 1944 as editorial secretary of the Retffew. 'It was his health, not his temperament, that accounted for these many changes. An exceptionally talented man, as well as docile and co-operative, he 172 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER would have been an asset to any college; but he was not strong enough to follow the regular schedule of a high school or college teacher. His assignment to the Reoiew was a b!essing to all concerned. For himself, the flexibility of his schedule allowed him to portion out his work according to his strength. For us, his varied talents made him the ideal secretary. Not only was he efficient at book-keeping, typing, and business details, as I have already mentioned; but his knowledge of theology and canon law, plus a generous endowment of good taste, made him an excellent judge of manu-scripts. Add to these the fact that he was a careful editor and proof-reader, and it is easily seen that his service to us was invaluable. His judgment that a manuscript should be rejected was always sympathetic and was never made without a second reading. But once made, his opinion was very definite; and he was no respecter of persons, not even of editors. (This may be one reason why I was amazed to discover that he had ever considered human respect to be one of his failings!) In my own files are several manuscripts which, in kedping with his suggestions, "await revision before publication." Attached to one of these manuscripts is a neatly typed note bearing this verdict: "The examples given in this article are of relatively rare occurrence in religious life. If you could add some that have more or less daily application, I should think it would enliven the article, especially the first part.---A.F.S., S.J." This is typical of his prac-tical criticisms; he always thought in terms of the readers. Efficiency in handling office details made it possible for him to go out fairly frequently to give retreats, Forty Hours' devotions, and days of recollection. He loved this work and seems to have done it remarkably well. His notes made for retreats, conferences, and ser-mons are filled, of course, with the inevitable "hen scratches"; but there are sufficient longhand and typed notations to indicate that everything was well planned. Moreover, reports were always favor-able. As one Sister superior put it, "He gave us an excellent retreat, one that we shall remember the rest of our lives." To this statement she added, "He reminded me of P~re Ginhac." This last remark referred not only to his solid spirituality, but also to his seriousness. Certainly his appearance was serious. He was tall (well over six feet), gaunt, more than semibald, dark-complexioned-- a perfect replica of the traditional, picture of the ascetic. And he was of serious disposition, too. A man who begins .173 GERALD KELLY Review For Religious each day with the realization that it may be his last is not prone to levity. But as he had the gravity of the saint, he also had the saint's sense of humor. By this Imean a keen and gentlemanly sense of humor. It did not respond to the crude or the unchaiitable, but it reacted instantaneously to the wholesomely amusing. He often com-plained to me that the Review tended to become too heavy, that it needed a lighter touch. He particularly liked the articles of our Fran-ciscan contributors, Father Claude Kean and Father Richard Leo Heppler, because of their cheerytone. In his last act of censorship for the Review he chuckled repeatedly while reading "Eyes Right?" by Father Richard Leo. The next day, scarcely ten minutes before we found him dead on the floor of the office, be was joking with Father Ellis. I have several times referred to the suddenness of his death. In one sense it was very sudden. Father Ellis and I left the office, leaving Father Schneider working at his desk. A few minutes later Father Ellis heard a crash, rushed back to the office, and found Father Schneider stretched out on the floor. Apparently he had left his desk to put something in a filing cabinet and as he turned back toward the desk he was stricken either by a heart attack or by a cerebral hem-orrhage. There was no sign of warning or of struggle; death must have come like the snap of a light bulb. Yet, in another sense, it was not sudden for him. Before he entered the Society a thyroid condi-tion had damaged his heart, and from the early days of his religious life he had known'that he had only a threadlike hold on life. At any moment,the thread might snap. Perhaps it was his coflsciousness of impending death that made him so orderly. His person, his room, his desk, his notes and accounts were always neatly arranged. His record of Mass intentions was kept with perfect clarity right up to the day of his death. During 1948-49 he had much extra work to do, especially in functioning as minister of this large house; and this forced him to get behind in balancing his office books. In the early weeks of 1950, despite very serious headaches, he worked assiduously to bring these accounts up to date. This was accomplished just a week or two before he died. As a boy, Father Schneider had loved sports; in the Society, however, his weakened heart prevented him from taking any active part in athletics. He showed his devotion both to baseball and to his brethren by assuming .the unattractive avocation of umpire. Later, 174 dulg, 1950 MEMOIR OF ALFRED SCHNEIDER even the umpiring had to-cease; but his interest continued. To the day of his death he could give with animation and precision the batting averages, pitching records, and so forth, of various teams and ~ndividuals over a long period of years. Another recreational taste cultivated in his youth was for good music. This, too, remained with him through the years; his occasional opportunities of listening to a broadcast of an opera or a ~symphony were a source of great joy to him. Looking back on the life of a friend, one can usually find many aspects under which to summarize the salient factors. One such gen-eral aspect of Father Schneider's life would be his maturity. He had a definite ideal of priestly and religious holiness and he strove methodically to attain it. He had a tendency to scrupulosity, but, at least in his later years, he was the master, not the slave, of this tendency. For the most part, he solved his own problems; when be needed advice be asked for it and followed it calmly. A man of strong likes and dislikes, as well as of vehement temper, he controlled these emotions in the interests of charity and of his own mental peace. He once told me that he had to be careful to read nothing about Communism in the late evening because such accounts usually made him angry and deprived him of needed ~leep. He adjusted admirably to the inconveniences and frustrations consequent to his illness. He was a good companion at recreation, especially a good listener; he was not the type to leave the little details that make for pleasant and efficient community living to "the other fellow." Another aspect under which I might summarize my impression of Father Schneider's life is suggested by Father Louis Hertling, S.3., in his manual of ascetical theology (Tbeologia Ascetica). In the last part of this book Father Hertling discusses the norms for heroic virtue described by Prosper Lambertini (later Benedict XIV) in his treatise on The Beatit~cation and Canonization of the Servants of God. According to Father Hertling, the pen picture of the saintly religious runs as follows: "He loves his own institute. He observes the rules, even the slightest. He keeps to his dell. He observes both juridical and real poverty. He is &hgent in carrying out his duties ~n rehglon. He ~s modest ~n exterior deportment. H~s separation from the world and worldly things is real. He is reverent towards diocesan priests and members of other religious institutes. He makes the spiritual exer-cises prescribed by rule. He is indefatigable in labor, but modest, and 175 STEPHEN BROWN Revieu~ for Religious without self-seeking.''2 To this list, I might add a few points given by Father Hertling in his sketch of the holy diocesan priest: reverence and earnestness in the things that pertain to divine worship; cultivation of theological knowledge; diligence in preaching and hearing confessions. I cannot say whether Father Schneider practised all these virtues of the priest and religious to a heroic degree; but I feel sure that in his final exam-ination on them be must have bad a very high grade. The "Lit:t:le" Vir!:ues Stephen Brown, S.J. IN SERMONS and various spiritual instructions we are ever hearing repeated those great words, Charity, Mortification, Hu-mility, Faith, Self-sacrifice, Perseverance, and the like. They have become so familiar that we are apt not to PaY attention to them, or, if we do, they awe us with the thought of the lofty vir-tues they stand for. But there are other virtues which the preachers do not so commonly preach about and which yet are worthy of thought. St. Francis de Sales used to call them the "little" virtues. Here is a characteristic passage from one of his letters: "Let us prac-tise certain little virtues proper to our littleness, virtues that are exer-cised rather by going down than going up, and therefore not so hard on our legs--patience, forbearance, service, affability, tolerance of our own imperfection, and.other similar little virtues.". If the great virtues seem too much for us, glorious ideals, no doubt, but so far away and so high above us, we may console our-selves with the thought that we can reach the same end by practising the "little" virtues. We are not called on every day to plank down ten-dollar bills or sign checks for I know not how many dollars. No, we pay our modest dimes or quarters, not disdaining even a copper or two, if more be needed. An hour may come, no doubt, in our lives when God will ask us for our little all. And then, no doubt, He will provide us with grace to make the sacrifice. But meantime we keep on paying our little daily installments. There are people who--if not in theory, certainly in practice-- 2The translation is not literal. 176 Ju!g, 1950 THE "LITTLE" VIRTUES make little of the little virtues. They are ready to be charitable, but in the meantime forget to be merely polite. There are others who have great respect, no doubt, for purity and chastity, but are not overparticular about ordinary modesty. And those are not unknown who practise mortification but on occasion are quite likely to insist on getting the best of what is going. There are even people who extol religion but deprecate piety. Yet it seems to me that a certain saying of Our Lord to the effect that "he that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in that which is greater" (Luke 16:10) has an application here. And again: "W~I1 done, thou good servant, because thou hast been faith-ful in a little, thou shalt have power over ten cities" (Luke 19:17). We might take the great virtues one by one and descant on the little virtues that go to make them up. Humility is a formidable virtue. But we might begin with it by being modest about our own achievements or refrain from making the conversation turn about our merits. That doesn't seem too hard. Abnegation is a hard word, and no doubt a hard thing, but we might start by occasionally letting other people have their way. It is a little virtue without a name, this art of giving in--at all events, I cannot put a name to it. And so we might go on. But lest our thoughts become too scattered let us fix them for a moment on those "little" virtues that are the small change of charity. I have menti6ned politeness. It may be merely the outcome of good breeding--and wherever it comes from how welcome it is! But it may also be a real virtue. To say the least, as one writer puts it, in order to be holy it is not necessary to be boorish. A man may be actually a gentleman as well as a saint. To another little virtue, cordiality, St. Francis de Sales devotes one of his wonderful confer-ences. After explaining what he means by it, he says it ought to be accompanied by two other virtues, one of which may be called affability and the other cheerfulness. "Affability," he goes on, '~is a virtue which spreads a certain agreeableness over all the business and serious communications we have with one another; while cheerful-ness is that which renders us gracious and agreeable in our recrea-tions and less serious intercourse with one another." How much the one and the other might, and no doubt do, help to oil the wheels of life. St. Ignatius LoYola set value on these little virtues, for he objected to wrinkles on the nose. There is another modest little virtue well worthy of considera-tion, and that is considerateness. It is practised by the person who 177 not only remembers your existence but ac(ually avoid~ hurting your feelings or rubbing you the wrong way, as the saying goes. He refrain~ from needless noise (hearken all ye who live overhead!). He remembers the nerves of nervous people; he does not ask embarrassing questions, and abstains from comment where comment might be unkind or inopportune. It is the most unobtrusive of little virtues, and we are often unaware of it in other people. But we are only too well aware of the lack of it when it is absent. Politeness, urbanity, courtesy may be taken as practically synonymous. And then there is obligingness. Who does not like and value the obliging man? But, like all virtues, it must steer a clear course between extremes-~between grumpiness and disobligingnes, on the one hand, and subservience, not to say flunkeyism, on the other. And what of companionableness or sociability? What of helpfulness? What of tactfulness? They are all just aspects of charity-~charity as it works out in daily life. Nevertheless, besides the people who despise the little virtues through a delusion that they are practising the great ones, there are also people sincerely aiming at higher things who are apt to neglect these virtues as merely natural. Well, everything that is natural is not wrong, nor even negligible. God is the ~iuthor of nature as well as of grace. Man pervbrts it or wrests it to purposes of his own. Moreover, these virtues need not be merely natural. Motive or inten-tion can raise them to the supernatural plane. And the minor virtues that center round charity have a peculiar value of their own. They are social virtues: they concern not ourselves alone but those about us. They help to make life happier for both ourselves and them. And I think we may even say that they help to make us Christlike. Is there one of them that the Master did not practise, one of them that He would have thought beneath Him? And, after all, the littleness of these virtues lies not so much in themselves or their results as in the things and circumstances that occasion the practice of them--trifling words, looks, gestures, mere silences. They are virtues of meal time and recreation time, of the breakfast table, the fireside, and the bus. But they have echoes in heaven. [EDITORS' NOTE: This article is the introduction to what we hope will be a series of articles on "The Little Virtues" by Father Brown. For' another of his articles on a similar topic see "Concerning Patience," in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, "VII, 141.] 178 Adiust:ment: ot: Negro Children t:o a Mixed Parochial School A Sister of the Holy Names ST. JOACHIM'S was not always an interracial school. From its remote beginnings it had served a French national parish. When we first began to enroll the colored the very novelty of each isolated case brought the thrill of pioneering. Five years ago we eased into our present position by accepting Catholic colored children on a larger scale. Naturally others not of the faith sought admission. Some few, at the discretion of the principal, were admitted. Each year since then our colored enrollment has increased until this year seventy-five per cent of our student body is colored. Because we started with Catholic children we did not experience the same difficulties at first that we met later. There was some initial resentment shown by our white pupils but this soon changed to admiration. Now there is a calm and unquestioning acceptance of their biracial school. The very few families who transferred their children to other schools because of the change were no great loss. We Sisters of the Holy Names have several schools for colored children in Florida, as well as five missions in South Africa. But this was our first attempt at interracial education on a large scale. .Hor-rified gasps met our early efforts; but, perhaps to the disappointment of the scandalized, no major issue has yet arisen involving color. Nor, with the grace of God, will any arise. With no established precedent known to us, we have had to feel our way. The results have been happy. Let me begin with some don'ts. Never favor a colored child in the classroom. He wants to be treated like the others, not better. I'll always remember the first colored boy I taught. Everything he said or did seemed amusing, and I had difficulty suppressing my smiles. He soon took advantage of my good nature, occupying the limelight for the remainder of the year. The next year I treated him like the others and we both spent a more profitable year. Similarly, don't even seem to mistreat him. He is likely to assume that you're doing it because of his color. If he deserves punishment and under-stands why you are inflicting it, he will submit without difficulty. But you have lost a friend if he suspectsyou of partiality on the basis 179 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Revtew for Religious of color. Be fair, then, in meting out punishment. If two or more are involved, punish all or excuse all. This may seem obvious. We have a classic incident here which we refer to as the Davis Incident. Mr. Davis, a Negro, is a World War I veteran, a man who married late in life and has a philosophy of life all his own. He is moreover very strict with his children and wants to co-operate with the school in every way. Last year a new white family, the 2osephs., moved into the neighborhood. The children came to our school. Instead of going home one day at dismissal time,, Davis Junior and Joseph Junior chased each other up and down the church steps. Both boys were taken to the school "court" where the Patrol Boys arraign those who disobey school ordinances. The Sister in charge, seeing 2oseph Junior in heart-melting tears, excused him. It was his first offense, and she knew he wouldn't do it again. Davis Junior, on the other hand, was awaiting his punishment like a man. He had been to our school for a full year: therefore he should have known better. Hence, a penance for Davis. That night Mr. Davis held his own court in the convent parlor with the Sisters as accused. He insisted that it was only just either to punish both boys or to excuse both. "But the other boy is new and not familiar with the school customs," we hedged. "All the more reason for punishing both to prevent further breaches," came the relentless reply. After much discussion, Mr. Davis very touchingly ended with, "If you don't punish the white boy (God bless you, Sisters), please don't punish mine." Don't be antagonistic. If you don't like the colored and can't treat them fairly, ask to be changed. Naturally very sensitive, they resent the slightest tendency a teacher may have to dislike them. Per-sonally, I have to think twice beford I list pupils as colored or white. I simply forget the color. They are all little ones to be encouraged, checked or admonished, urged, and taught; but never children of one race or another. Other Sisters tell me they have the same experience. Now for the positive side. Be strict but kind. Strictness will never be resented if they understand that it is for their own good. In most cases their parents are strict (we think sometimes too strict), but the fact remains that their children show a much higher respect for the parents than do the white children we have at present. Of course we must keep in mind that the pupils we teach come, for the most part, from the poorer homes. ¯ There are four large well-equipped public schools within walking distance. In spite of this fact, the parents make great sacrifices to keep their children with u~. dut~,1950 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT As' one earnest mother put it: 'TII work my fingers to the bone before I'I1 be so foolish as to take my boy out of St. Joachim's." Another non-Catholic mother who works nights to pay the fees answered her employer, when be endeavored to persuade her to send her children to'the public school: "As far as I can judge, the Catholic school is giving the better education. The best is none too good for them. If I have to stop eating, they will go to the Catholic school." School standards must be set high and maintained. Nothing mediocre will suffice. Colored parents want for .their children what they have never had: a solid religious education. Though theyhave little.respect for easily-won laurels, they s6metimes expect miracles once their children are in our hands. In this connection a strange (or perhaps not so strange) fact merits attention here. Many chil-dren have come to us from special classes for ungraded pupils in the public schools. (I have five such in my own class.) All, without exception, show a marked improvement. ,We have found that they can learn, in some cases as well as or better than the average pupil. One was an inveterate truant. He has not missed a day of school since he came to us. Is it the personal touch? I don't know. Give plenty of homework. Most parents want to help their children and incidentally learn something themselves. True, a few of them are college graduates. Several more have gone through high school. But the majority have had nothing more than an inter-mittent schooling in the "South." Most home backgrounds are therefore apparently not conducive to scholarship. Yet our colored pupils lead their white classmates in scholastic achievement in every grade. We have found it preferable to enroll new colored students in the lower grades only. They are more amenable, at the age of five or six, to discipline and training than they are when they enter a Cath-olic school for the first time in their early teens. Invariably, non- Catholic pupils accepted for the upper grades are problems. They come with their attitudes fixed and their characters strongly devel-oped along paths that conflict with our teaching aims. Consequently, only Catholic children are accepted into the school for the higher grades; the lower grades are open to all who satisfy the entrance requirements. After two or three year~ with us, these children are more docile to our teaching, their behavior is decidedly improved, and their wholesome outlook on life is reflected in the family" circle. Many parents ask to take religious instructions or are importuned by their children to do so within a year or two. 181 SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES Reoiew t~or Religious Among the fine qualities which we have had abundant oppor-tunity to admire in our colored people, I'd stress their co-operation, their cleanliness (in spite of their tremendous housing difficulties), their high ideals, and last, but certainly not least, their attraction to and love of things spiritual. Never have we received from our white pupils the co-operation and encouragement which the colored have given. Last fall we needed window shades in our classrooms. Those shades which we could pull down either stayed down or came down altogether. Some windows had none to pull down. The mothers of our colored pupils were invited to discuss the matter. They came, nearly every one, conducted the meeting in.parliamentary style~ spon-sored a very successful party, and really amazed us. We now have new window shades on every window in every classroom. Colored parents follow the behavior and the studies of their chil-dren very closely. They frequently telephone or stop a minute after school hours to find out how Isaiah or Donna is progressing. The bimonthly report is not just another card to sign but a meaningful record which both parents and pupils take seriously. Suppose Wood-row is not behaving properly: a note to his mother sets him right. Should Dorsilla become negligent in her studies, a phone call brings results. Thirty of my forty-five pupils are colored. I find my most care-ful workers among them. Boys especially surprise me by their atten-tion to details, their striving for perfection. They would rather not hand in any paper than one that is poorly written or has a mistake on it. On the whole, I have found them clean and neat physically as well as morally. Of course there are some who are untidy, but they are the exception. The colored have high ideals. Their standards are set for the best in everything; such at least is my experience. That is one reason why our Catholic faith appeals so strongly to them. Some of the parents have made mistakes in their own lives; they are eager to fielp their children avoid the pitfalls into .which they themselves have fallen. They see and appreciate the difference between the behavior of the public-school children and our pupils (speaking again of our own neighborhood). Therefore they make untold sacrifices to insure the best training, the best instruction, the best education for their dar-lings. They are not living aimlessly. They have ambitious futures outlined. The children themselves are imbued with their parents' high ideals. You would perhaps be surprised to hear these poor people express 182 19.50 INTERRACIAL SCHOOL ADdUSTMENT their religious opinions. They are hungry for God. They are seeking not a "revival" religion but one that is solid, secure, and authoritative. One family, whose children were among our first Catholic colored pupils, boasts two altar boys. These boys refused so absolutely to go to a public school that thei~ mother was obliged to send them to St. Benedict the Moor's boarding school in Mil-waukee. There they were baptized and made their first Holy Com-munion. The following year they came to us. The older bo3~, a senior altar boy now, is fidelity personified. He serves the nine o'clock Mass every Sunday, rain, snow, or sunshine. He is an honor student at the Catholic high school he attends. Both boys are fre-quent communicants. And all this, despite the fact that neither mother nor stepfather is Catholic. An aunt who teaches in a special school in New York, also a non-Catholic, made several trips West to assure herself of her nephews' educational progress. Each time she has expressed her admiration and appreciation of Catholic education. Could you but come and see for yourself how nonexistent are the bogeys of interracial education, my explanations would be needless. In class, as well as in church, no distinction is made in seating. Side byside they learn their lessons, say their prayers, play their games. Side by side, too, they bear Mass, receive Holy Communion, and serve at the altar. In instructing the many parents who seek bap-tism, the priests in charge of our parish believe in the "slow but sure" adage. They try the perseverance and constancy of their catechumens before baptism. How fervent these colored converts are. Yes, a very few grow careless with the years: but of course as much can be said of our lifelong Catholics. Many of our newly-converted colored families move to better neighborhoods. Yet, some of the children continue to come to our school, although it means coming halfway across the city by bus or streetcar. Others enroll in the nearest Catholic school; the same school might have refused them entrance a year before. It is our consolation to know that they still receive a Catholic education in their changed circumstances. We plant, others water; but God gives the increase. Our first fully-interracial' graduation took place last year. All these graduates are at present in Catholic high schools. They .are continuing their Catholic education side by side with white students, partaking in all school activities on an equal basis. Now to give some general impressions. Some tendencies must be checked. But they are the tendencies which historians tell us are 183 A SISTER OF THE HOLY NAMES manifested by any minority group. Those who sigh over the diff-culties of our present-day teaching efforts forget the very real diffi-culties they encountered a few years ago with o, tber minorities. Besides, every authority recognizes that the already difficult task of teaching has been made doubly hard by the weakening of family dis-cipline, The undesirable traits which I mention are not monopolized by our colored brethren. Fighting, for instance. Resentment. In-feriority complex. These have to be checked rigorously and sen-sibly. We rarely experience difficulties in this regard between the races. Usually it is the colored who quarrel among themselves (or the white as the case may be). Name-calling is unheard of between white and colored. By taking these youngsters in the lower grades, we are succeeding, with the invaluable aid of parents and priests, in teaching them to live peaceably with one another; to regard all men (even if all men do not so regard them) as friends and brothers: to face their difficulties with courage, confident that with God's help they can succeed here and hereafter. We have iiadustrious pupils and lazy ones, bright ones and dull, quick and slow, polite and thoughtless. But these categories are no respecters of color. Racial tensions develop not in school but in the homes where an older generation, grown fearful, sows the seeds of strife and disunion. With us, the teachings of the Church are fearlessly taught. Non- Catholics are expected to take part in. all religion classes. What a beautiful object lesson a colored altar boy can be as, paten in hand, he serves the priest at the Communion rail. It is with no mere mouthing of fine phrases that we teach the lesson that a compassion-ate Christ taught: His love for all men; that He died for all: that black, brown, yellow, and white, we must love one another as He has loved us. How much better our pupils understand this when they look around and see boys and girls of every shade of brown treated the same as those born white. The. best way to get information on interracial education is to see such a school in action. OUR CONTRIBUTORS GERALD KELLY and AUGUSTINE KL,~AS are members of the faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. STEPHEN 2. BROWN is a professor at the National University of Ireland, Dublin. 184 Aid:end !:o Reading Augustine Klaas, S.J. 44ATTEND to reading," St. Paul long ago advised Timothy t~ (I Tim. 4:13). By this admonition bishops--and pre-sumably priests, too, since they should be imitating their bishops--are counseled to peruse the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading. Religious are given to understand the importance of spiritual reading by some of the Fathers of the Church, for example, by St. Jerome, who in his own peculiar way urges Eustochium, a Roman virgin seeking perfection in the nearby convent at Bethlehem, to "let ~leep steal over you holding a book, and let the sacred page receive your nodding head." So necessary for his monks did St. Benedict consider daily reading of the Holy Scriptures and of other spiritual works that he used to send two of the brethren around to check on them strictly during this exercise, for he considered such reading the living spring whence flowed the streams of prayer. This can be said to be the general tradition of religious communities from the earliest times down to the present. While it it true that the cur-rent canon law regarding religious does not mention it explicitly, spiritual reading is certainly included under the heading ~f the "other practices of piety," which superiors must see that their subjects per-form daily (canon 565). As a matter of fact, the constitutions of almost all religious orders and congregations approyed by the Holy See prescribe specifical!y at least a quarter hour of daily spiritual reading or its equivalent, whether in private or in common. Today the laity are becoming increasingly aware of the need of spiritual reading fo~ advancement in prayer and virtuous living, and they are'making use of it more and more. These readers of spiritual books are usually yearly retreatants, active sodalists, and the militants of Catholic Action, but there are many others also. Even non- Catholics are helping in a surprising way to make certain Catholic spiritual books nation-wide best-sellers. I Spiritual reading is not just any sort of reading. It is not casual reading as of a newspaper, novel, or poem. Neither is it "heavy" reading, as of scientific, historical, or philosophical works. It is not 185 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Reli~lious reading for esthetic pleasure, literary appreciation, historical infor-marion, scientific acumen, or doctrinal erudition: at least, such is not the primary purpose of this kind of reading. What, then, is it? It is the reading of Holy Scripture, spiritual books, lives of Christ, of the Blessed Virgin, and of the saints, not so much for knowledge or for some other similar purpose as for moral improvement, for progress in the spiritual life. Spiritual reading is directed to the will rather than to the intellect; it aims more at the heart than at the head. It seeks principally to stir up the affections, move the will, and produce virtuous action. Father Alvarez de Paz gives the classi-cal definition: "Spiritual reading is perusing the pages of Holy.Scrip-ture or the books of the holy Doctors, not so much"that we may know, but rather that we may advance in spirit, learn the will of God; and do it." Elsewhere be calls it spiritu~al reading when we seek in spiritual books "not only the knowledge but much more the relish ~and love of spiritual things." In some ways the reading of a spiritual book has distinct advan-tages over listening to a sermon or exhortation, having a conference with a religious superior or spiritual guide, or discussing spiritual matters in private conversation with a friend. Verba votar~t . Spoken words easily come and go. The printed word is far more permanent and tends to produce a more lasting effect, since what is printed can be reread, pondered, prayed over, and thoroughly assimi-lated. Without strain or too much distraction the last drop of goodness can be leisurely distilled from it. Books, too, can be fearless informants of faults and defects, while preachers, superiors, and equal~ will sometimes bestitate to speak out, and indeed at times they may not be able to do so. Also, the preacher or counselor may be lacking in the special knowledge required for one's particular case; he may be mediocre, or even downright incompetent, whereas one can always choose one's spiritual reading, adapted to personal, needs, from the Holy Scriptures or the latest encyclical of the Pope, from the spiritual masters, .such as Augustine, Chrysostom, and Basil; across the crowded centuries to Marmion, Meschler, and Leen. M~reover, a spiritual book is a precious thing in itself. The Psalmist says (11:7): "The utterances of the Lord are holy utter-ances, silver tested by fire." Spiritual reading often contains latent power similar to that so impressively noted by the two disciples on the road to Emmaus: "Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke to us on the way, whilst he laid open to us the Scriptures?" (Luke 24:32.) And Christ tells us: "The words that I have spoken 186 dul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING to you are spirit and life" (John 6:64). And St. Paul: "For what-soever things were written aforetime were written for our instruc-tion, that through patience and through the comfort of the Scriptures we may have hope" (Rom. 15:4). According to the Holy Books themselves, the Scriptures are truth, fire, a lamp, a hammer, the sword of the spirit, an infinite treasure for men; they convert souls, give wisdom to little ores, enlighten the mind, and .rejoice the heart. What Holy Scripture here says of itself applies also in great part to ill spiritual books worthy of the name. II Undoubtedly spiritual reading is a powerful force for salvation and perfection. How many, like St. Justin, have ascribed to it their conversion to the true religion? St. Eugenia was converted by reading the Epistles of St. Paul; St. Domna by reading the Acts of the Apostles. St. Augustine attributed his moral conversion to spiritual reading. Already convinced intellectually of the true faith, he was still struggling with his unruly passions and perverse will, trying to break with his sinful past, when one day he heard the voice of a child sing-songing in a nearby house: "Tolle, lege," "Tolle, lege," "Take up and read." He recalled that the great St. Antony had been converted to a life of perfection by the chance hearing of the Gospel text: "Go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." So Augustine eagerly took up the New Testament, opened it at random, and read from St. Paul's.epistle to the Romans (13:13-14): "Not in revelry and drunkenness, not in debauchery and wantonness, not in strife and jealousy: But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and as for the flesh, take no thought for its lusts." These words sent streams of light into his mind, warmth to his affections, and strength into his will. Then and there he broke with his sinful past forever. Cen-turies later Ignatius Loyola likewise found in spiritual reading a powerful stimulus to a better life. While recuperating from battle wounds at his ancestral castle he asked for some light reading, some romantic tales, to speed the tedious hours. None could be found ar the moment, so he had to content himself with reading the life of Christ and some saints' biographies. This re.ading, begun with reluc-tance, together with God's grace, initiated a revolutionary change in his whole !ife and started him on the road to sanctity. Augustine and Ignatius are not isolated instances. Countless men and women, of all states of life, have had the course of their moral and spiritual 187 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious life changed for the better by reading the Scriptures and other spir-itual books. ¯ Hence it is not surprising that ascetical masters have been lavish in pointing out in detail the various effects produced by earnest spir-itual reading. Here are some of. the. things they say. It shows us our faults as in a mirror, warns of tempt.ations and helps to overcome them, gradually purifies the,,soul from: sin,, and, makes,,the.,,sense of sin ever more and more delicate. It is also a source of nourishment for the soul, since it feeds the soul with salutary truths, which hre its solid and substantial food, and thus plants wisdom. It disposes us for meditation, then enkindles and feeds the fire of prayer and con-templation; indeed, it is truly the "oil for the lamp of prayer." Or, to change the figure with St. Basil: prayers are the sinews of the soul, but the sinews of prayer are spiritual reading. Also, if prayer has gone. badly in the morning, reading can make up for it to a great exterit later in the day. It deepens faith, hope, charity, and all the virtues, stimulates to fervor and devotion, arouses the affections, and strengthens the will. St. Ambrose remarks that just as monks in winter make for the fire, so must we throw off the chill of the world by reading which kindles our love for God. Moreover, r~ading urges to emulation. Did not the youthful Teresa of Avila, on reading the vivid accounts of the early martyrs, immediati.'ly run off to martyr-dom, taking h~r little brother along? Fortunately they did not get very far on their way to Africa but were promptly fetched back home! Little by little spiritual r~ading produces deep interior peace, delight in God, contempt for the world and worldly things; it gives us to taste and experience how sweet is the Lord. It also stirs up apostolic zeal and can be very useful for the apostolate, since it indirectly supplies material for sermons, religion classes, spiritual guidance, and conversation. On the negative side, it prevents wasting precious time on books, magazines, and newspapers of little or no value to religious. In a word, it helps greatly toward making religious spiritually mature. No wonder, then, that so many saintly persons of the past were devoted to spiritual reading. Did not Our Lord Himself read from the Holy Scriptures in the synagogue? St. Augustine says that Our Lady was reading the prophecies of Isaias concerning the future Mes-sias when the angel appeared to her to announce that she was to be the mother of the Redeemer. The servant of Queen Candace was reading Isaias when the Holy Spirit sent the apostle Philip to baptize him. It is significant that the office of reader is a minor order in the 188 July, 1950 ATTEND TO READING Church. How the Iectio dit~ina was treasured in the early Church and by the monastic orders down the years! St. Dominic made great progress in holiness by constantly reading the C'onferer~ces of Cassian, and St. Thomas Aquinas by reading and rereading the Fathers of the Desert and the Fathers of the Church. In this way St. Je~:ome finally broke his inordinate attachment to the pagan classical authors. And didn't St. Teresa cure herself of excessive novel-reading in much the same fashion? We can say without fear of contradiction that the saints universally practiced spiritual reading. I merely note tha~: St. Francis de Sales Used to read himself to sleep at night with z spiritual book, usually Scupoli's Spiritual Combat. He was evidently-following St. 3erome's advice. No wonder the spiritual masters chant the .praises of spiritual'_ reading. Thomas ~ Kempis says that a convent or monastery with-out spiritual books is a kitchen without vegetables, a table without: food, a well without water, a river without fish, a bag without: clothing, a garden without flowers, a purse without money, a vine-. yard without grapes, a tower without guards, a house without fur-. niture; and be adds in all simplicity: "From all these evils and'. injuries to the soul may the good Lord 3esus Christ deliver us, and'. may He be wholly in all now and forever. Amen." Speaking of his: monks, St. Hugh of Lincoln asserts that spiritual books were their arms in time of war, their occupation in times of peace, their support in time of trial, and their remedy in time of sickness. Perhaps Plus X is the most eloquent of modern recommenders of spiritual reading. What he says in his L~tter to Catholic Priestg about its apostolic and personal value can be applied also to religious. "Great progress is made by priests who persevere in this habit of reading; they preach Christ with unction; instead of enervating and distracting the minds and hearts of their hearers, they lead them .to better things, lifting up their souls to heavenly desires. For another reason, very profitable to you, beloved sons, St. 3erome's precept holds good: 'Let spiritual reading be ever in your hands.' Who does not know the very great influence exercised on the mind by a friend who advises freely, who counsels, rebukes, encourages and preserves from'error? 'Blessed is be that findeth a true friend' (Ecclus. 25: 12); 'He that hath found him, hath found a 'treasure' (Ecclus. 6: 14). Now spiritual books may be accounted as true and faithful friends. They remind u~ forcibly of the precepts laid down by authority concerning, true discipline, awaken in us the still small voices of Heaven, reprehend all falling away from resolutions, disturb 189 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieu2 for Religious deceitful calm, expose less worthy affections and self-deception, and reveal the many dangers that lie in the path of the unwary. This they do with such uhobtrusive kindness that they prove themselves to be, not only friends, but the very best of friends. They are beside us whenever we please, ever ready to minister to our secret needs; their voice is never harsh, their counsel never biased, their utteraBces never deceitful or fainthearted." Ill Spiritual reading can be made in private or in common. It is done in common when one person reads and the others listen. Although this way of reading is practised and even prescribed by many religious communities and has certain obvious advantages, yet reading in common is by no means theideal. It is much less effective in procuring the principal purpose of this exercise, namely, virtuous will-action, chiefly because the personal element of the individual religious is not sufficiently taken into consideration. After all, each religious has his own personality, his own spiritual problems, needs. and so forth. What is pertinent for one may not be for another, and at the moment may even be harmful. Spiritual reading in common seems to be a carry-over from the days when books were scarce and perhaps illiteracy not unknown among religious. At any rate, it cannot compare with private spiritual reading, which is being adopted more and more by religious communities, certainly an adaptive move in the right .direction. However, if it must be done in common, the reader should be a capable one, who with suitable preparation tries to read slowly, distinct.Iy, and reflectively. Even where reading in com-mon is practised by rule, other free periods of the day can be profit-ably utilized for private spiritual reading, if only for a half or quar-ter hour. Spiritual reading in private should be done daily, if possible, and at a fixed time, when one is free from duties, and the surroundings are at least relatively quiet. Some find the chapel an excellent place for private spiritual readir~z. The reading should be preceded by a moment ot recollection and a short prayer or aspiration asking for light and grace to benefit by it. The aim should be to read little rather than much--multum rather than malta--and this should be done slowly, leisurely, so that the matter has a chance to sink into the soul like a gentle rain. The reading must be attentive, reflective, ruminative. A wise old laybrother, on the way to spiritual reading, used to say: "Let us chew the cud; unless a sheep chews the cud, it 190 Jul~,1950 ATTEND TO READING will never grow fat." Hence, a pause from time to time, a pause to think, to pray, to meditate, to listen, for St. Augustine says, "When you pray, you speak to God; when you read, God speaks to you." Should we not listen to Him? An old spiritual writer counsels doing what chickens do when they drink water: they take a sip and then look up to. heaven, and keep repeating the process. When we come to something that strikes us, that stirs the affec-tions, we must stay there, read it over and over again, savor it, per-meate it with prayer and aspirations, even make a note of it for future reference. In this way we shall be like the prophet Ezechiel who was told to eat a book, not to swallow it whole; and then like him we ~oo shall find the book "sweet as honey" in the mouth (Ezech. 3:1-3). Such reading will produce fruit, thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold, provided we understand, absorb, penetrate, realize, and apply to ourselves what we read. It will make us put on Christ, put on Our Blessed Lady, put on Paul, put. on David, put on all the saints and holy ones of God. Ascetical writers say: Read, not with a view to finding fault, but with a deep spirit of faith. It is so easy to be hypercritical and unfair, like spiders distilling venom where bees sip only sweet nec-tar. Read with humility. That is what h Kempis says: "If you wish to make progress, read humbly." Do not be frightened by the style, especially of the old masters; it is something quite secondary, if not unimportant, for our purpose. Persevere, too, and do not flit superficially from book to book. A sick man will never be cured if be merely browses about among the medicine bottles. IV What to read? We are not concerned here with the reading of spiritual books taken in an improper or analogous sense, though undoubtedly it has great advantage for the interior life.' Such, for example, is reading the book of nature. The writer recalls once travelling with a Cistercian abbot on a train going through the Swiss Alps. The mere sight of those snow-covered peaks bathed in sun-light seemed to take the contemplative abbot right out of this world, up to the beauty and grandeur of God. Many of the saints read the book of nature assiduously. Who does not recall Ignatius Loyola contemplating the stars; Francis of Assisi, the birds, animals, Brother Sun, find Sister Moon; Joseph of Cupertino striking the flowers with his cane to 'keep their beauty from sending him into an ecstasy; Teresa of Avila devoutly pondering the waters of fountains, brooks, 191 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or Religious and streams; Francesca Cabrini gazing prayerfully on the wide expanse of the ocean? Perhaps religious do not do enough of this sort of reading; perhaps religious, especially nuns, are indoors too much. There is another type of this so-called reading: it is reading the book of the crucifix. Saints, like Thomas Aquinas and Bona-venture, found much wisdom in it. Philip Beniti (Breviary, Aug. 23) called the crucifix outright "my book." Neither are we so much interested in this article in spiritual reading taken in a proper but wide sense of the term. By this is meant perusing theological, philosophical, historical books, or reli-gious novels, plays, and poems, for spiritual reading. No doubt Franz Werfel's The Song o[ Bernadette or-Francis Tbompson's poems can readily be converted into spiritual reading, and surely this ought to be done at least occasionally as a relief and diversion from regular spirittial reading. By applying the method of reading sketched above, almost any book, even a grammar or scienc~ book, can become spiritual reading of sorts, but this is not spiritual reading in.the strict and ordinary sense, nor should it take the place of the daily reading prescribed by rule. A good norm is this: for the reading prescribed by rule, particularly if it is done in common, what is ordinarily meant by a spiritual book should be used, except on rare occasions. But for any extra time devoted to this exercise, over and above what is prescribed, one can be much freer in one's choice of books. (I might suggest, by way of digression, that in making this spir-itual reading in the wide sense, religious might keep in mind what Coleridge says of readers in general. He distinguishes four classes. "The first class of readers may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand; it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibe~ everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, arid retains only the refuse and dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the miner of Golconda, who, casting .aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gems." If we adopt the method of reading suggested above, surely we shall be mine-workers of Golconda, gathering gems and nuggets of spiritual wisdom to trad~ for heavenly riches. And at the end of each day's .treasure-harvest, should we not give thanks to God for the graces received while reading?) First on the list of spiritual reading books in the strict, sense is the 192 ATTEND TO READING Bible, the spiritual book par excellet~ce. St. Paul writes: "Every-thing in the Scriptures hasbeen divinely inspired, and has its uses: to instruct us, to expose our errors, to correct our faults, to educate us in holy living" (II Tim. 3:16). Do we appreciate the Old Tes-tament sufficiently, and do we read it? Of course, for the beginner a selection of Old Testament Books is advisable. Wisdom, Proverbs, Ecclesiasticus, Ecclesiastes, Tobias, ,lob, Ruth, Esther, Isaias, Psalms --these books contain a rich mine of gpiritual treasure. Gradually one can take on the other books also. A good point as we read is to link up the Old and New Testaments, to note, for example, the shadows and figures of the Old .Testament and their fulfillment and verification in the New. Religious are much better acquainted with the New Testament, especially the four Gospels, which must be gone over and over again to be really assimilated and loved. But have we read the Acts of the Apostles? Or the magfiificent letters of St. Paul?. Or the minor letters of the New Testament? Monsignor Ronald Knox's translation of the Holy Scriptures, whatever its deficiencies from the scholarly angle, has this great advantage that it is highly intelligible for the average reader. We recommend it, particularly for the books of the Old Testament and for the Epistles of St. Paul. An encouragement to read the Holy Scriptures for spiritual reading is the three hundred days' indulgence attached by Pope Leo XIII to at least a quarter hour of such reading. And Pope Benedict XV admonishes that "none can fail to see what profit and sweet tranquility must result in well-disposed souls from such devout reading of the Bible. Whoever comes to it in piety, faith, and humility, and with a determination to make progrez in it, will assuredly find therein and will eat the 'bread that comes down from heaven' (,lohn 6:50) . Our one desire for all the Church's children is that, being saturated with the Bible, they may arrive at the all-surpassing knowledge of desus Christ." (Encyclical Spiritus Paraclitus.) . The Apostolic Fathers are certain ecclesiastical writers of the end of the first century and the first half of the second. Although they are not divinely inspired as are the writers of Holy Scripture, they nevertheless portray vividly the mind and spirit of the early Chris-tians. Perhaps the best known among them are Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp. Who has not been stirred by the fervent letters of Bishop Ignatius of Antioch on his way to Rome .and martyrdom? To the Romhn Christians, who may try to prevent him from dying for Christ, he writes to dissuade them from such action: "God's wheat 193 AUGUSTINE K~AA$ Reuiew [or Religious I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's pure bread." Bishop Polycarp, about to be mar-tyred, replies to the proconsuI trying to make him apostatize: "For six and eighty years I have been serving Him, and He has done no wrong to me; how, then, dare I blaspheme my King.who has saved me!" Who has not thrilled to the heroic courage of these words? Another contemporary source of inspiring spiritual reading is the accounts of the early martyrs, such as Tarcisius, Cecilia, Perpetua and Felicity. And then there are the Fathers of the Church: Cyprian, Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, Gregory, Athanasius, Basil, Chrysostom, and many others. Their works on martyrdom, virginity, prayer, the ascetical life, the priestly state, make excellent spiritual reading,' reading that has nourished the prayer of .contemplatives down the ages. Also the Fathers of the Desert, such as Antony the Hermit, and the early monastic founders, as Pachomius and Benedict, furnish reading material for advancement in the spiritual life. Pope Pius XII on several occasions has encouraged the reading of these early writers; especially of the first centuries. Since our troub-lous times are much like those of the first Christians, he points out that we need the virtues they especially" exemplified, and he calls attention to four principal ones: 1) an unshakeable confidence in victory, based on profound faith; 2) a serene and unlimited readi-ness for sacrifice and suffering: 3) Eucharistic fervor and recollection arising from the deep conviction of the social efficacy of Eucharistic thought on all forms of social life; 4) a striving after an ever closer and more enduring unity of spirit and of hierarchy. At present there are two series of English translations of these early writings being published: one by The Newman Press, West-minster, Maryland, the other by Cima Publishing Co., New York. Librarians of religious communities should choose from these collec-tions those volumes more suitable for spiritual reading. Com!ng down the centuries, what a cavalcade of spiritual masters passes in review! Bernard, Aquinas, Catherine of Siena, Bonaven-ture, ~i Kempis, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Rodriguez, Francis de Sales, Lallemant, Alphonsus Liguori, Vincent de Paul, Paul of the Cross, and many more. Among the more recent writers we have Lehodey, Goodier, Faber, Newman, Hedley, Th~r~se of Lisieux, Meschler, Chautard, Marmion, and Leen, not to mention the living. Some years ago REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS printed a list of some hundred authors and their works, which may serve as a basis 194 ATTEND TO READING for a re~ding program of the spiritual masters. (Cf. I, 105; II, 117.) Another rich source of spiritual reading is the life of Christ, of Our Blessed Lady, and of St. ,Joseph. These are timeless books, to be read and reread. Then there are the numerous biographies of the saints, especially of those whom the Church has singled out to be the official patrons of various Catholic works, and of the Blessed, and of other holy persons, particularly of the founders of religious com-munities, so instructive, inspiring, and enticing to imitation. In the last twenty or thirty years hagiography has made real progress towards taking the saints from their fragile pious pedestals and, by putting.their feet on the ground, making them attractively real. | V Of course, amid such a wealth of reading material, one must wisely choose. Here are a few suggestions for religious that must not be followed too rigidly but always adapted to special circumstances: Choose those books that will give you the spirit of your own religious order oi congregation, whether active, contemplative, or mixed. These should be preferred tb all others, especially in the early years of the religious life, and they should be reread often. If your community has few or none, then read the books of an order or congregation which has. your identical rule, or has for its purpose one similar to your own. Other books, depicting and implementing other ways of religious life or other states of life than yours, can be read gradually as the years go on. Choose books suitable to your present position in your religious community. The reading of novices is not going to be the same. as that of older religious. Young religious should be directed in their reading by some one experienced in this matter. However, certain authors are recommended by the Holy See to all young religious: St. Bernard, St. Bonaventure, and Father Alphonsus Rodriguez. The latter's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues (3 vols. Loyola Press, Chicago) has the added advantage of furnishing a systematic general survey of almost the whole ascetical field--a valuable help at the beginning of one's religious life. Choose books adapted to the spiritual needs of the soul at the moment. This reading will vary according as one is ill, or in con-solation, or in desolation, or in temptation, or in great trials, or has been appointed superior, or removed from some cherished office or employment, and so forth. It will vary, too, according as one has made great or little progr.e.ss in the spiritual life. 195 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Make it a point to read at least one book in harmony with the liturgical year, for instance, something on the Passion during Lent. I~ is good occasionally to read a general survey of the whole of the spiritual life, such as that found in Tanquerey, Garrigou- Lagr~nge, Saudreau, or Parente. A more o~ less systematic reading of the older authors, especially the spiritual classics, should be done by mature religious, while at the same time not neglecting the better books among the moderns. Here a list of books, graded in the order of importance, is a big help. Many modern spiritual books are superficial and ephemeral, and can readily be passed over in favor of the spiritual masters. Mystical books should be read rarely by the young and then only under direction. Older religious of balanced judgment may read such books with profit, especially those of St. Teresa of Avila. With regard to private revelations and mystical phenomena not yet having received the approval that goes with the person's canonization, on~ should always maintain a prudent reserve. This is the Church's own attitude in these delicate matters. An inordinate attachment to ~eading about revelations and mystical phenomena is a sign of' spir-itual immaturity and can be harmful to one's spiritual life. 'Finally, religious should read regularly one or several magazines devoted to the spiritual and religious life, such as Cross and Crown, Life of the Spirit, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sponsa Regis, or others in foreign languages. These, besides articles suitable for spiritual reading, furnish careful information on spiritual books and pam-phlets, old and new. To conclude with a common objection: "I am too busy; I have no time for extra spiritual reading." Let St. Robert Bellarmine answer it. After asserting that there is always a margin of time left over in the daily schedule tha~ can "be spent on meditation or pious reading, with great fruit for one's soul," the holy Doctor goes on to say: "Seneca in one of his letters takes to task those who claim that time is all too short;and be proves that their complaint is unfounded, because they waste a great deal of time. If only they would use it, they should have plenty of time . Many are short of time because, not content with honest recreation, they squander their existence in dawdling, gadding about, gossiping, visiting, reading about trifles, and doing nothing useful." Perhaps St. Robert has something there! Book/?ev ews ST. TERESA OF JESUS. By Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. Translated from the Italian by a Benedictine of Stanbrook Abbey. Pp. xll-~ 123. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1949. $2.00 In this book Fathe~ Gabriel does for St. Teresa what he did some time ago for St. John of the Cross (see this REVIEW, VI, p. 377) ; that is, in a series of five conferences he introduces us to the works and doctrine of the celebrated mystic whom he regards as the great founder of what he is pleased to call "the Teresian school." He makes an effort to present the principal points of that doctrine in an ordered and systematic synthesis, and to "determine what is her considered opinion on the more central problems of spirituality" (p. xi). The supremely important aim in the spiritual life is not contem- t plation, but cbarRy, and the perfection of it. .Being most magnani-mous herself and having been treated most liberally by God, St. Teresa conceives this perfection to be love brought to the highest possible peak of generosity. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is to be refused to the divine Lover. Whatever He may ask, in deed or sacri-fice or suffering, the soul is glad to render. In particular it is eager to do all that it can in the apostolic spirit and for the salvation of souls. This lofty perfection is possible to all Christians who have sufficient good will. It is the same as that most excellent form of union with God, that "true union" of conformity of will in love, which above all other forms Teresa herself always desired and sought. After considering the goal, perfect love, it was only natural that a Carmelite and especially a sublime mystic like St. Teresa should turn to "the contemplative ideal." Besides infused contemplation, "We must conclude that, evidently, Teresa also is aware of the exist-ence of an active contemplation," described in The Interior Castle, "Mansion VI," 7. "Such a contemplation will habitually be the prayer even of a soul already mystical, at such times as it is not favored by God with more special divine enlightening. In the illu-minative way the active, or acquired, contemplation will easily alter-nate with the infused. The matter is thus understood by the whole Teresian school" (p. 118). Her understanding of mystical contemplation is narrower and richer than that of some modern authors: it "is a state of prayer 197 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious wherein the soul is experimentally aware of God's action within it" (p. 24). "Even in the lower degrees of infused contemplation the divine action within renders itself in some way perceptible to the consciousness; the soul feels moved, drawn, and from seeing how that motion which it suffers causes it to occupy itself wholly in lovingly gazing upon God, it judges: 'God is acting in me. I am very close to God' " (p. 82). In St. Teresa's outlook the contemplative ideal is of course most important. It is a great "short cut" to the higher degrees of charity and virtue. One ardently in love with God experiences a certain need of the peculiar intimacy and inspiration which contemplation brings. Hence it is in every way most desirable. However, it is not necessary, even for perfect holiness. "We cannot conclude that all generous souls must attai'n to such forms of contemplation ['prayer of quiet,' 'sleep of the powers,' 'union'], much less that they can be introduced into that way of contemplation which, through the series of infused forms of prayer, leads the soul to the spiritual marriage as it is described by St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross . So we may speak of a way that leads to holiness, even perfect holiness, without passing through mystical prayers, strictly speaking" (pp. 36, 37). "Synthesizing these teachings of its great Mistress, the Teresian School has distinguished a two-fold way of perfection: the common way and the mystical way, that is the way of contemplation. The common way knows nothing of infused forms of prayer of th~ characteristic type described by St. Teresa" (p. 43). As a matter of fact, God is most liberal with His gifts and is wont to grant infused prayer to those who exert themselves suffi-ciently. "If we are to interpret her thought faithfully, we must say that in the highest way of sanctity, followed by thoroughly generous souls, mystical prayer, although not ~ecessary, is yet ordinary. Such, also, is the traditional position taken up by the Teresian mystical school, formulated by the Teresian Congress of Madrid" (p. 37). After dealing with perfection and contemplation in the first two conferences, Father Gabriel devotes the remaining three to the preparation that St. Teresa advises for contemplation, to an account of the "Mansions" of The lnterior Castle, and finally to the place of the sacred humanity of Jesus in the spiritual system of Teresa of Jesus. Father Gabriel's book is a clear, brief, and highly inspiring intro-duction to the doctrine of St. Teresa. Moreover, it presents the understanding and interpretation of it which the leading authority 198 duly, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS now in Carmelite spirituality considers to be the true and just idea of it. Hence this work is a very valuable addition to our spiritual literature.--(3. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. STORM OF GLORY. By John Beevers. Pp. viii -f- 23 I. Sheed and Ward, New York, 19S0. $3.00. This short life of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux is written with a two-fold purpose: (1) to reveal St. Th~r~se as a person truly measuring up to the heroic love of God and the neighbor required of a saint, and a person altogether unlike the child-like and sweetly sentimental saint she is made to be in many books about her; and (2) to point out that St. Wh~r~se has a very special relation to our modern times. Read in connection with the Autobiography of St. Th~rbse, Storm of Glory/will give one a very complete picture of the saint. It fills in many details of her family life in early years as well as her life as a Carmelite, all of which help very much to understand St. Th~rbse, and in addition it tells a brief running story of her life enlivened with concrete incidents and eye-witness stories which show Th~r~se to have been truly heroic in a grown-up way in her love and service of God. The second aim of the book is developed in Part II. The author calls St. Th~r~se of Lisieux th~ greatest saint of modern times, prin-cipally because she has made sanctity seem not only attractive but truly possible to thi many, many little people of the world, who but for her would have thought of sanctity as too remote and mysterious andimpractical for such as they. This is true because her own life was so very ordinary--ordinary works, no extraordinary penances, and for the most part no extraordinary spiritual experiences, and also because of the Little Way of Spiritual Childhood which she teaches as a sure way to become a saint. Further, to the author, Th~r~se, with her conviction of her own littleness and her love of God in every detail of her life, stands in direct opposition to the modern worldly spirit with its pride in purely natural accomplishments and its bitter hatred as well of fellowmen ~s of God. Over the years I have found each fresh acquaintance with St. Thir~se of Lisieux to be spiritually inspiring. And that is what Storm of Glory offers to its readers--a good measure of spiritual inspiration.--A. REID, S.J. PURGATORY. By Martin A. dugle, A.A. Translated by Malachy G, Car-roll. Pp. 203. The Newman Press, Wesfmlnster, Maryland, 1949. $3.25. There are very few worthwhile books on Purgatory. This is one 199 Book REVIEWS Reuiew for Religious of them, one of the best. Unlike most, it is written primarily from the viewpoint of the living and stresses throughout the consoling aspect of Purgatory. In it, Father Martin 3ugie, a theologian of high repute, presents and explains the Catholic doctrine in simple, clear language, but with theological exactitude and above all with reserve, especially on the delicate subject of private revelations. In fact, his balanced evaluation and prudent use of private revelations are some of the outstanding features of the book. The location of Purgatory, its inhabitants, its kinds of punishment, its time-length, these and many other topics, some not found in other books, come up for care-ful treatment. The author devotes considerable space ~o the w.ays in which we can help these souls, by Masses, indulgences, prayers, and almsgiving. Finally, he tells bow to avoid Purgatory altogether, or at least shorten one's stay there, by using the multitudinous efficacious means placed by the Church at the disposal of Catholics. He might have developed more at length the theologically well-founded though not certain doctrine of the immediate entry into heJaven of those who receive the sacrament of extreme unction betimes a;ad with the proper disposi-tions. The translator has done a fair job, but he should have done more car,eful proof-reading, and he might have added a helpful index. We recommend the book highly to all and trust that it will match in English the seven editions it has already seen in French. It is a rare book, combining two things: exact information and quiet inspiration. --A. KLAAS, S.J. PSYCHIATRY AND ASCETICISM. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. B. Herder Book Co., S÷. Louis, Missouri. $2.00. This slender volume points out defects in the exercise of the sci-ence of psychiatry as it is practiced today and as it is popularly preached. From a consideration of some of the defects of the science, the author goes on to a treatment of certain ascetical principles and practices which are basic to a complete understanding of difficulties in man's mental life, principles and practices frequently overlooked or denied in psychiatric treatment. Perhaps the finest chapters in the book are the Psychology of Mental Prayer and the Psychology of Mortification. The present reviewer has a practical problem with this volume, however. Though the author repeats several times that he has no quarrel with psychiatry which stays within the confines of its sub- 200 duly,.1950 BOOK NOTICES ject matter, the overall tendency of the book seems to condemn the science as a whole. A Catholic psychiatrist would find little encour-agement in reading Psgcbiatry and Asceticism. There are many reputable Catholic psychia~;rists who are doing splendid work in their chosen field, and it is fervently hoped that their number will increase. It is true that Freud held a philoso.pby not consonant with our rule of faith, but a distinction must be made between the philo-sophy of the founder and the therapeutic processes and clinical obser-vations and conclusions of the science. By stressing some of the ideas this volume does, the ordinary layman would put little faith in psychiatry.mJ. J. CAMPBELL, S.J. [NOTE: The preceding reviews of Purgatory and of Psychiatry and Asceticism are published through the courtesy of Catholic Review Service, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas.] BOOK NOTICES GOSPEL GE,MS, by Canon Paul Marc, contains twenty-four meditations on as many events recorded in the Gospels. The .book is recommended to anyone seeking an aid in making familiar contem-plations or meditations on the Gospel scenes. The prayerful perusal of its simple and inspiring treatment of these scenes will help the reader to acquire a deeper knowledge of Christ and to achieve a more intimate union with Him. (Frederick Pustet Co., New York and Cincinnati, 1950. Pp. 226. $3.00.) AN INTRODUCTION TO HOLINESS, by Henri Petitot, O.P., is a clear, well-balanced statement of the essentials for holiness. The book has three main parts (The Ascetic Life; The Active Life; and The Unitive Life) and a conclusion on The Mystical Body. In these various sections the author insists on the necessity of self-denial, humility, prayer, zeal, knowledge of Christian doctrine, union with God and neighbor through charity[ There is a good chapter on the value of Christian art for stimulating devotion; and the theme that the holiness of one member has profound effects on the Mystical Body is excellently developed. The treatise is intended for the fer-vent laity and for religious. Even among these, the author says, comparatively few attain to a superior state of holiness. But all would profit by the thoughtful reading of this book. Irritating minor tones are the frequent references to things French and the author's apparently unnecessary insistence on his "Thomistic" posi-tion. The translation from the French was made by Malachy Ger- 201 BOOK NOTICES Reuie~u for Reliqious ard Carroll. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. vii ÷ 176. $2.50.) COME CREATOR SPIRIT, by Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D., is a series of considerations centering chiefly around those two magnificent hymns to the Holy Ghost, Veni Creator Spiritus and Veni. Sancte Spiritus. Other chapters deal with the role of the Holy Ghost in the sacraments. The book concludes with comments on the Mass of the Holy Ghost and miscellaneous reflections. The treatment is devotional, simple, full of unction, and directed to the heart. This book might best do service to religious as a well-spring for their meditations~to increase their appreciation of and devotion to the forgotten Paraclete. (Techny, Ill.: Mission Press, 1950. Pp. $3.00.) TAKE THIS SCAPULAR contains the conferences given at the Carmelite Third Order's Second National Conference held in the spring of 1949. In the thirty-four chapters, each by a Carmelite Tertiary or a Tertiary Director, is told the story of Our Lady's Scapular, its origin and history, its use and efficacy in modern life. This book provides valuable source material for study, meditation, and preaching on the Scapular devotion. (Chicago: Carmelite Third Order Press, 1949. Pp. 270. $2.50.) Thomas Merton's latest book, WHAT ARE THESE WOUNDS?, is an interpretation of the contemplative life and mystical experi-ences of St. Lutgarde, a thirteenth-century Yrappistine. It is a com-panion book to his THE WATERS OF SILOE, and THE SEEDS OF CONTEMPLATION, and gives a concrete application of the principles of the contemplative life discussed in these two former books. Although the author is careful to explain that the miraculous is only accidental to the mystical life, it is to be regretted that much of the book is taken up with relating just such experiences. This biography of St. Lutgarde is, however, interesting and pleasant reading, since it does afford an insight into the innermost life of an outstanding con-templative and a lover of the Sacred Heart. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiv + 191. $2.50.) Among the many celebrated writings by St. Athanasius probably none was more influential, over a wider area and for a longer period, than his perennial "best seller," THE LIFE (~F ST. ANTHONY. Atha-nasius had known and esteemed th~ great monastic pioneer and pro-duced this Lit:e shortly after the death of Anthony. The account 202 dulv, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS literally set the style for Christian hagiography. And, what is vastly more important, it exerted enormous influence East and West in spreading the idea of that full-time pursui.t of Christian perfection that is now organized into religious life under rule and vow. After the Gospels, this Life is really Book One in monastic and conventual literature. The present edition is Number' 10 in the Ancient Chris-tian Writers series. The translator and editor is Robert T. Meyer. .Religious scholars will be grateful to him not only for the smooth translation but also for the annotations with which he interprets the text. (Westminster,Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 154. $2.50.) Very noticeable in recent literature on religious vocations is the striving to be realistic, to show young men and women, by word pictures and photographs, just how the religious life is lived. WHAT MUST I Do? by Sister Mary Paul Reilly, O.S.B., is an example of how this purpose.may be accomplished by word pictures. She takes one girl and her companions through the postulancy, noviceship, first and final professions: and, by means of their varied experiences, she shows the girl reader just what she might expect in the religious life. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. 96. ¯ $1.60.) THE UNHOLY THREE, by Rev. Henry J. Romanowski, is a very readable treatise on ascetical theology for the laity. The "Unholy Three" are, obviously, the world, the flesh, and the devil. Father R0manowski covers the principal ways in which these enemies attack the soul, as well as the various ways of combatting them. This is his first book. May he publish many more. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1950. Pp. xiii ÷ 160. $2.75.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis, Missouri. Human Personalit~l. By H. C. E. Zacharias. Pp. viii q- 360. $4.00. Describes the way India and China "by their own unaided efforts caused human personality to emerge out of its stage of collec-tive anonymity," and how Israel was an instrument in the hands of God "who gave to human personality a supernatural sanction and an eternal value, unattainable by merely human endeavors." ,, 203 dul~,1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The Nazarene. By Eugenio Zolli. Translated from thd orig-inal ItaIian by Cyril VolIert, S.3. Pp. 309. $5.00. A volume of exegesis for "Scripture students and others who are confronted with difficulty of explaining obscure passages in the Gospels." Revival of Paganism. By Gustave Combes. Translated by Rev. Augustine Stock, O.S.B. Pp. v + 360. $4.50. "This survey of recent trends, especially those fostered by government, toward the dechristianization of our civilization, focuses attention in particular on Russia, Germany, and France." The Message of Christ. By Adolf Donders. Translated by Rev. Rudolph Kraus. Pp. xi ÷ 477. $6.00. Includes 204 brief suggested sermons, based mostly on the life of Christ, for Sundays and principal feasts of the liturgical year. Should prove useful espe-cially to busy parish priests. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, Collegeville, Minnesota. Tbeoloqg of the Old Testament. By Dr. Paul Heinisch. Eng-lish edition by Rev. William Heidt. Pp. 386. $5.00. Although of special interest to teachers of religion and theology, this book will provide the less specialized reader also with a deeper understanding and fuller apppreciation of Old Testament teaching on the nature and attributes of God, the spirit world, creation, the nature of man, human acts, the Messiah. The treatment is both scholarly and com-prehensive and copiously documented with hundreds of Scriptural references. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., 55 Fifth Avenue, New York. St. Anne and the Gouty Rector and Other Plays. By Henri Gh~on ~ Henri Brochet. Pp. xx + 190. $2.50. Contains seven plays and useful production notes for each play. The plays included are: St. Anne and the Gouty Rector, The Sausage-Maker's Interl~de, Parade at Devil's Bridge by Henri Gh~on; Christmas at the Cross-roads, The Gardener Who Was Afraid of Death, The Man Who Died Because He Wore Gloves, St. Felix and His Potatoes by Henri Brocbet. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Men. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xii + 12I. $1.50. Facing Life, Meditations for Young Women. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xiv + 158. $1.50. Two small books, reprints. Recommended highly for priests 204 July, 1950 FOR YOUR INFORMATION and religious who want to help young men and women meditate. The Sunday Introits and Graduals. By Reir. E. C. Messenger. Pp. 175. $2.75. The Sunday Collects. Pp. 123. $2.75. The Sunday Epistles. Pp. 182. $2.75. -.-The Sunday G'ospels. Pp. 171. $2.75. These four volumes contain simple explanations of the various parts of the Mass. Helpful for religious who .wish to meditate on these parts of the Mass; for priests who wish to explain the Mass; and for the laity who want a deeper understanding of parts of the Mass. Lioing with God. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Pp. xvi -1- 93. $1.50. Another reprint. Seeks to arouse in the reader a more fruitful realiza-tion of the tremendous significance of union with God through sanc-tifying grace. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. By Rev. E. C. Messenger. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York. In Praise of Our.Lady. By Martin Dempsey. Pp. vi + 225. $2.75. A book of sermons concerning the principal feasts of Our Lady, including a special series for a Novena to Our Lady of Fatima. For Your nrrorma on Passlonist Champion Champion of Church and Pope is an attractive pamphlet sketch of St. Vincent Strambi, the recently canonized Passionist bishop. In his preface to the pamphlet Bishop James H. Griffiths says that "Vincent Strambi is a modern symbol of victory of the suffering Christ and His suffering Church over the force and the fear of the tyrannical state." In the text itself Father Aloysius McDon-ough, C.P., brings out not only the remarkable story of St. Vincent's early life (he was rector of a seminary before being ordained a priest) and of his great courage in the face of Napoleon's tyranny, but also the essential details of Passionist life. The publisher is the Sign Press, Union City, New Jersey. Father McDonough, the author, 205 FOR YOUR INFORMATION. conducts the "Sign-Post" in the Passionis~ magazine, The Sign, and is the author of God's Own Method, a book which offers a "design for living . . . drawn from the lessons taught by the crucified Re-deemer." (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VII, 50-51.) Company o{ Mary A Slave of Jesus in Mary is a pamphlet life of Mother Mary Potter, Foundress of The Little Company of Mary, familiarly known as the "Blue Nuns." The institute began in the latter part of the last century; the foundress died in Rome in 1913; yet the Little Company's hospitals are now circling the globe. The author of this pamphlet is Father Marius McAuliffe, O.F.M. Our readers may obtain it for the asking by writing to The Little Company of Mary Hospital, 95th St. and California Ave., Evergreen Park 42, Ill. Servanfs of Mary Another nursing institute of recent origin is The Sisters, Servants of Mary, a society of trained nurses who care for the sick and infirm in their own homes. It too is fast extending its services to the whole world. Its provincial house for the United States is located at Kan-sas City, Kansas. The foundress, Mother Soledad Torres Acosta, was born in Madrid, Spain, in 1826, and died in the same city 1887. She was beatified on February 5, of this present Holy Year. L~ftle Off;¢e M~I Dail~t Otlice is a 6-p~ge folder on The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. It contains a brief commentary on the Office and reflections on the psalms and canticles. The author is Ft. Jerome, O.F.M. He found in giving retreats to religious that they do not get lectures on the Little OtSce as often as they would wish; hence, he gave some talks and later abbreviated them into this folder. Copies may be ordered, or sample copies obtained, from Assisi Press, St. Francis, Broad Lane, Cork, Ireland. Price for U.S.A. and Canada: $3.00 for 100; $8.00 for 300; $12.00 for 500. I/arla The Poor Clare Nuns have a new monastery situated on a hill-side overlooking the Santa Clara Valley. The address is: The Immaculate Heart Monastery, Route 2, Box 873, Los Altos, California. "The Boy Saviour, My Model for Life," is the title of a new (Continued on page 224) 206 ( ues {ons and Answers nl8m We have heard, or read somewhere, that the water cruet used at Mass should always be filled to the brim? Is that correct; and, if so, why should this be so? At the Offertory the celebrant is supposed to mix a very slight quantity of .water with the wine in the chalice. The quantity should be relatively slight: that is, slight with reference to the amount of wine that he takes. Yet, even priests who use a comparatively large quantity of wine usually try to limit themselves to only a few drops of water. The cruet should be filled in such a way that the priest can accomplish this without spilling the water. Generally speaking, it is very difficult for the priest to take only a few drops if only the bottom part of the cruet is filled, for in this case the water tends to gush out. For this reason, the stoppers so often used in water cruets are a nuisance. On the other hand, when cruets are filled right to the brim, it is often difficult to pour the water without spilling it. The safest way to fill the water cruet, therefore, seems to be almost to the brim. We might add, however, that cruets differ--and so do priests. Sacristans would do well to ask the priest how he wants the cruets filled. And if there is no opportunity to do this, the sacristan might experiment a bit until he (or she) knows just how much to fill the cruet to allow for the pouring of only a few drops without spilling or gushing. In some places Erlenmeyer flasks are used as cruets because it is so easy to control the flow of liquid from them. ml9m What is meant by a "perplexed" conscience? Is it the same thing as scrupulosity? By a "perplexed" conscience theologians mean a state of mind in which a person thinks he would commit a sin no matter what he does. For instance, suppose a mother thinks she would sin by going to Mass and neglecting a sick child, and would also sin by staying with the child and omitting Mass. She has to do one thing or the other--go to Mass or not go to Mass. Hence, according to her "conscience" she would sin no matter what she would do. Another example is suggested by this problem in Moral Guidance (p. 309), by Edwin F. Healy, S.J.: "What should a surgeon do in an 207 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS emergency case where in his opinion he will probably be doing wrong if he operates and probably be doing wrong if he does not operate? He must do one or the other at once." The "perplexed" conscience does not necessarily indicate scrupu-losity. Even one who normally has no difficulty making decisions for himself might occasionally face a situation so puzzling ~that it seems to involve sin no matter what he does. However, a scrupulous person is certainly more apt to experience this difficulty than are those who are not scrupulous. Since we have mentioned the "perplexed" conscience, it may be well to add here the correct principles of conduct in such an emergency. Theologians give three rules to cover the various possi-bilities : 1) Get advice, if this is possible, and thus do away with the perplexity. --For instance, the mother mentioned above might ask the priest or some prudent friend what she should do. 2) If advice or some similar help is unavailable, do what seems to be the less evil. --For instan6e, the s.urgeon mentioned in Father He.aly's problem has to act in an emergency and may have no oppor-tunity to consult persons or books. In that case he should try to estimate whether operating or not operating would be the less of the two apparent evils and then act accordingly. 3) If one cannot decide which would be the less evil, he may follow either course of action without sin. ---The reason for this last rule is that a person who judges that he will sin equally by acting and by not acting no longer has the freedom necessary for actually committing a sin. The ability to sin presupposes the ability to choose between two things, one of which is sinful, the other not sinful. 2O Is it true that the Holy See has condemned the practice of cjivincj several small Hosts to one communicant.'/ A decree of Pope Innocent XI condemned the practice of giving several small Hosts to one communicant. The reason for this prohibition was that the practice, as existing at the time of the con-demnation, was based on a spirit of false devotion. When there is no question of fostering a false devotion, a priest may give several Hosts to the same communicant: for example, when there is need of emptying a ciborium. 208 Reporl: I:o Rome I We c:ntinue hcre the publishing of the List oI Questions to be answered in the quinquennial report by pontifical institutes. For full explanation see our dan-uary, 1950, number, page 52. We encourage all to read these questions thought-fully, as they furnish an excellen~ survey of the Church's law concerning religious. The eighty-six questions published in our 3anuary, March, and May numbers contain the first three articles of Chapter I, "The Institute and Its Government." The questions are published exactly as they appear in the official English trans-lation. Questions marked with an asterisk (*) concern only institutes of men; those marked with a cross (t) refer only to institutes of women.--ED.] ARTICLE IV Concernin9 the financ;al 9overnmenf of the Institute § 1. - CONCERNING THE ACQUISITION AND LOSS OF PROPERTY Concerning the acquisition and registration of propert~ 87. a) What if any immovable property or precious movable property was acquired by the Institute, Provinces and houses; what was the value of these acquisitions. b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gratui-tous title, or by purchase, and ~n this latter case was it with the funds of the Institute, Province or house, or with borrowed money. 88. Has the Institute, the Province and each house an inventory of its movable property, especially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of workmanship, history or material) (c. 1522 2°) and of its immovable property. 89. When must these invehtories be revised, and are they in fact revised. 90. In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence-halls, hospitals, churches, etc., are entrusted to the religious houses, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which belong to the religious house itself. 91. By what method or in~ whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered; and can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law. 92. What forms of registration have been adopted as the more s~cure in various localities. 93. If societies have been established for this purpose, was every-thing done in accordance with the civil law and is everything actually being kept in good order. 94. As regards the aforesaid societies: 209 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious a) Were all persons to whom the administration or manage-ment of property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful. b) Were the members of the Institute itself given the preference over outsiders for oflqces of administration, whenever this could pru-dently be done without loss. c) What safeguards were used against dangers arising from abuses of administration. d) Is a constant vigilance conscientiously exercised according to law, through the checking of accounts and through ordinary and other extraordinary and timely inspections of safety deposits and other properties. Concerning expenses 95. Were extraordinary expenses paid from ordinary or extra-ordinary income proper, or on the contrary with borrowed funds. Concerning contributions 96. Did the individual houses and other units subject to the Provinces contribute toward meeting the expenses of the Provinces. 97. Did the Provinces and equivalent units and the houses which are immediately under the Supe.rior General contribute to the com-mon necessities of the Institute. 98. By what authority (Chapter, Council, General or Provincial Superior), on what principles and in what proportion are the contri-butions'to the general and provincial funds determined. 99. Were these contributions paid willingly or more or less under pressure. I00. Are the Provinces and houses allowed to retain whatever is prudently foreseen to be necessary or very appropriate for their own life and growth, in view of the good of souls and the welfare of the Institute. Concerning the alienation and diminution of property 101. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable (i. e. consisting of capital funds) or precious, was alienated, and by what authority, 102. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by experts, and the norms of the Constitutions, observed. 103. Did the Institute, Provinces and houses consume any stable or founded property or capital funds; for what reasons and by what 210 July, 19~O authority. 104. Are the general, making serious efforts to red 105. What properties o suffered loss; and what wer! REPORT TO ROME rovincial and local Superiors and Bursars over this property. the Institute, Provinces and houses have the reasons. gilance of Superiors and their Councils ~d 'Bursars (c. 516 §§ 2, 3, 4) according Constitutions: ute. 'ovinces and other similar units. muses and works. 111. Does the Superior §3). 112. Do the Councils exercise vigilance in regard also as Bursars (c. 516 § 1 Concerning 113. How many times cils must the Bursars and o their administration. 114. Was a clear and in any case act also as Bursar (c. 516 ~ave their part in the administration and lit, even when the Superiors are acting how do they do this. rhe rendering of accounts a year and to what Superiors and Coun-her Administrators render an account of :omplete rendering of account demanded 21"1 under the direction and vi (cc. 516 § 2, 532 § I), 110. Are there designat to the common law and thl a) For the entire Insti~ b) For the different P: c) For the individual Concernirig debts and obligations 106. a) What debts w~re contracted, and by whom. b) What debts are ac~ua!ly outstanding. 107. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534. b) The precautions mI e.ntioned in c. 536 § 5. c) The norms of the Constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the Council, etc. | 108. Was the interest ~n debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care taken t,oward the gradual payment of a debt or the amortization of the capital~ (c. 536 § 5). § 2. - CONCERNING THE[CONSERVATION AND ADMINISTRATION ~F PROPERTY 109. Is the administra~tion of property conducted, not arbi-trarily, but according to the common law and the Constitutions, REPORT TO ROME Reoiet~ for Religious of all and each of the Bursars and Administrators during the five-year period. 115. Were there presented together with the accounts the docu-ments showing the .expenditures and receipts. 116. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe. 117. Are the necessary directions given to the Bursars and Administrators; if so how is this done, and what sanctions are imposed in case of necessity. 118. Have Superiors, Bursars or Administrators, or any other religious, any money or property which they can freely use without giving a regular account of it, even though it belong to the Institute, Province or house. Concerning the intpestment of money and changes of inuestment 119. Did Superiors, Councils and Administrators lawfully, safely and profitably invest (c. 533) the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the Constitutions. 120. Did Superiors, Bursars and Administrators make temporary investments of surplus funds which were not required for ordinary expenses, so that they should not lie idle but might draw a reasonable interest. Concerning the consert~ation of property 121. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully conserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the Constitutions. 122. On what terms, if ever: a) Were money or precious articles received from outsiders on deposit. b) Or conversely were such deposits made with outsiders by Superiors, Bursars, Administrators or private religious. 123. Do Superiors, Bursars, Administrators conscientiously strive that all the properly of the Institute, Province and house be religiously conserved and providently administered (c. 532 § 1). Concerning foundations, pious causes, etc. 124. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted. 125. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rules of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the Constitutions observed. 126. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, according to law and with the consent of the local Ordinary when that was 212 July, 19519 REPORT TO ROME required, invested (cc. 533 §§ 1, 2, 1547) and separately and faith-fully administered (cc. 535 § 3, 2°, 1546, 1549). 127. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 1514, 1549 § 2). 128. Did Visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfilment and an account of the administration of the property. Concerning business and trade, etc. 129. Did any religious, Superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violation of cc. 142, 592. 130. In cases where for just reasons the permission of the Holy See. was obtained for engaging in business (give the date and Proto-col number), was every semblance, not alone of fraud but also of avarice, diligently avoided. 131. What precautions were taken that religious who are occu-pied in business dealings may not suffer spiritual harm. 132. Whether Superiors and Councils were attentively watchful that, according to c. 1539 § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading be avoided. Concerning actions or affairs which int)oloe tfnancial responsibility 133. How did Superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of the Institute or of the Province or house (c. 536 § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536 §3). 134. Did Superiors clearly and effectively, according as the cir-cumstances required, take prompt action to clear the Institute, Prov-ince and house of all responsibility for actions and dealings done by individual religious without observing the norms of the common or particular law. 135. Do Superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion to litigation in the canonical or civil courts, everything be done exactly according to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guar-antee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (e, 1529). 136. Have any law suits or losses resulted from failure to observe the prescribed formalities of civil law according to n. 135. 213 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious 137. !-!ave Superiors and Bursars diligently seen to it that extern workmen and all persons who work for the Institute, Province or house receive at the agreed time a just and fair compensation accord-ing to law (c. 1524), and that the provisions of law regarding the contract of hire and other matters be faithfully observed. 138. What provision is made for the spiritual welfare of those who work in the house, especially if they also reside there. CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE Concerning the diversity of classes ~ The vows of each class 139. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the Institute; does harmony exist among the different classes and is f~aternaI charity observed among them. 140. Besides the persons who belong to the Institute or Society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members. 141. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security. 142. Are there any legitimately approved,statutes for them. ARTICLE I Concerning ÷he admission, formation and profession or incorporation of members Concerning the postulantsbip in the wide sense (Apostolic Schools) 143. Are there in the Institute any aspirantships or postu.lant-ships in the wide sense: apostolic schools, etc. 144. For how long a time does the instruction and education in these places last. 145. In these apostolic schools and similar houses and in the residence-halls, are the students of tender age habitually kept separate from the older ones. Concerning the postulantship in the canonical or strict sense 146. Are the postulantships pro.perly conducted according to law in the houses of noviceship (c. 540 § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540). 147. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by 214 Julg, 1950 " REPORT TO ROME the Constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged; if so, for how long a time and by what authority. Concerning the admission of aspirants 148. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations. 149. Are there also advertisements inserted in public bulletins and papers. If so, in what bulletins or papers did they appear. 150. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the increase or diminution of vocations. 151. Wha~t are the obstacles which aspirants most frequendy have to overcome in order to follow their vocation. Concerning documents, testimonials and informations 152. Were the documents required by the common law (c. 544) and by the Constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant. 153. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a*) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local Ordinaries and are.prescribed for all (c. 544 § 2). b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the Rector or Major Superior for those who have been in a Seminary or a residence-hall which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious Institute (c. 544 §3). c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case of clerics and professed religious (c. 544 §§ 4, 5). 154. Besides the documents and testimonials which are specially prescribed by law or by the Constitutions, were further informa-l~ ions, which it seemed necessary or useful to know in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants, diligently sought (c. 544 § 6). Concerning impediments and admissfon 155. From what impediments or defects, if any, which are imposed by the common or particular law, was a dispensation granted; how often and by what authority was this done. 156. Were the admissions of aspirants always done by the com-petent Superiors, observing the rules of law (c. 543). Concerning the nouiceship~The house 157. Was every novitiate house erected or transferred after 215 ~EPORT TO ~OME Review [or Religious obtaining in advance the permission of the Holy See (c. 554 §§ 1, 2). 158. Does perfect religious observance flourish in the novitiate houses. 159. Did Superiors'assign to them or permit to remain in them religious who are hot exemplary in their zeal for religious observance (c. 55¢ § 3). Concerning the beginning of the novicesbip 160. Did all fulfill the prescribed days of spiritual exercises before entering the noyiceship (c. 541)~ 161. Were the rite and the rules prescribed for admission to the noviceship faithfully observed (c. 553). Concerning board and expenses for the postulantsfiip and nouicesbip 162. Is the right of the Institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship, given in the Constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement. 163. Who determines the amount to be paid. 164. Was there any instance of the grave abuse of dela.ying the profession because the expenses of the postulantship or noviceshlp had not been paid. Concerning the giscipline of the novicesbip 165. Did all the novices and each of them from the beginning of the noviceship have a complete copy of the Constitutions. 166. Are the novices, according to law and the Constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564 §§ 1, 2). 167. Did all and each of the novices before their profession per-form the canonical year of noviceship complete and continuous, without counting the first day, in a house of noviceship lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a Master (cc. 555 § 1, 556, 557). 168. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the limits fixed by law (c. 571 § 2) and the Constitutions; if so, for how long a time and by what authority was this done. Concerning the government of the noviceship 169. Was there always in every novitiate a Master of novices 216 dul~l, 1950 REPORT TO ROME duly appointed or elected (c. 560). 170. Have the novice Master and his Socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559 §§ 1, 2) and the Constitutions, or did dispensations have to be asked for and obtained. 171. Are the Master and Socius free from all offices and minis-tries in or out of the house, which might interfere with their care and government of the novices (c. 559 § 3). 172. Do the Masters of novices, according to law (c. 561) and the Constitutions, under the vigilance and direction of Superiors and Visitors, have full possession of their proper authority and use it for the government and training of the novices. 173. Do all the Masters fulfill their office properly (c. 562) and remain constantly in the novitiate house. 174. Do the Master of novices and his Socius abstain from hearing sacramental confessions unless the penitents of their own accord ask them to do so according to c. 891. Concerning the spiritual training of the nooices 175. Were the novices, under the guidance of the Master, during the first or canonical year of the noviceship, engaged exclusively according to law (c. 565 §§ 1, 2) in exercises of piety and other exercises proper to novices; or on the contrary were they assigned to hearing confessions, preaching and external works or ministries; or " did they apply themselves expressly to the study of literature, sci-ence or humanities (c. 565 § 3) beyond the limited measure in which this has been approved by the Sacred Congregation. 176. During the second year of noviceship or during .the time which is over and above the canonical year, were the norms which were given in the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious (2 Nov. 1921 ) observed : a) Regarding the manner of exercising the external ministries of the Institute (nn. I, II). b) Regarding the conditions under which alone the novices may be sent outside the novitiate house (III). c) Regarding the two months' preparation for the profession (IV). Concerning the documents to be drawn up before the profession 177. Did all the novices, according to c. 569 § I, before the first 217 REPORT TO ROME Review [or Religious profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration and ~itber cede or dispose of the use and usufruct of their property. 178. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition was not duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, was it made or completed after the profession (c. 569 § 2). 179. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession, made always in accordance with ¢. 580 § 3. 180. a) Did the novices of the Congregation, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569 § 3). b) Did they afterward render this will valid according to the civil law (c. 569 § 3). 181. Were any changes which may have been made in this will after profession, made according to c. 583 2°. 182. Are the aforesaid documents a), b) faithfully kept in the Archives. Concerning admission to profession and the act of profession 183. Do the General Superior and General Council carefully and constantly keep a severe watchfulness as regards admissions; have they issued any special norms in this matter. 184. Does there seem to be in any Province too great facility regarding admissions, and have the prescribed norms and sound cri-teria been faitbfhlly observed. 185. Has the first profession, after eight full days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the Constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575) in the novitiate house itself (c. 574 § 1). 186. Was the prescribed rite observed in making the profession, and was the document attesting it duly drawn up (c. 576). Concerning the canonical examination 187L Did the Major Superioresses, or others acting in their name, two months before admission to the noviceship, to the first temporary profession and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local Ordinary (c. 552 § 1), so that he or his Delegate mlght gratuitously conduct the canonical examination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552 § 2). 188t. Was the prescribed examination always made. 218 July, 1950 REPORT TO ROME Concerning the dowry--The obligation and delivery of the dou)rg 1891". According to the Constitutions, is the dowry obligatory in the Congregation, or is it left entirely or partly optional (c. 547 §3). 1901". Was the delivery of the dowry made according to law (c. 547 § 2) and the Constitutions. Concerning the investment, conseroation, administration and return of the dou)rg 1911". Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the Major Superioress, with the deliberative vote of her Council and the consent of the Ordinary of the place where the capital of the dowries is kept (c. 549). 1921". Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way b~fore the death of the religious concerned; if so, by what authority was this done. Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it were done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance; what is their condition at the present time (c. 549). 1931. Where and how are the dowries administered. Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535 § 2). 1941. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the Constitutions, or even though there be in the Congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries. 195t. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever cause it occurred, and in case of transfer, were the dowry and likewise the persona.l belongings which the novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring, without the income which had already accrued (cc. 551, 570 § 2). 1961". Is this done also with property freely contributed for increasing the dowry even beyond the sum required by the Consti-tutions. 1971". In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the Insti-tute out of charity, according to law (c. 643 § 2), give her Whatever 219 REPORT TO ROME Reoieu; [or Religious was needed that she might safely and decently return home and be decently supp.orted for'a time. Concerning the profession and the renewal of profession 198. What if any dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows. 199. How many and what sanations were afterward necessary. 200. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the Constitutions (c. 574 § 1), when the time for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577 § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577 § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows. 201. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574 § 2). 202. Conversely, how of

The Great Depression in Weber County, Utah, is an Oral History Project by Mack S. Taft for completion of his Master's Thesis at Utah State University during the summer of 1969. The interviews address the Great Depression through the eyes of individuals in several different occupations including: Bankers, Laborers, Railroad Workers, Attorneys, Farmers, Educators, Businessmen, Community and Church Leaders, Housewives, Children and Physicians. All of these individuals lived in Weber County from 1929 to 1941. The interviews were based on what they remembered about the depression, how they felt about those events and how it affected their life then and now. ; This is an oral history interview with Dr. Clyde Winslow Fields. Dr. Winslow discusses the difficulties of setting up a dental practice during the Depression, including working in the Eccles (First Security Bank) building, caring for some of the Eccles family, and the closure of the Ogden State Bank. He recalls dealing with bootleggers and sexual harassment, and professional jealousy within the medical, dental, and law professions. He also talks about vice on 25th Street including prostitution. ; 27p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 sound disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Dr. Clyde Winslow Fields Interviewed by Mack S. Taft circa 1960s Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Dr. Clyde Winslow Fields Interviewed by Mack S. Taft circa 1960s Copyright © 2016 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. The working files, original recording, and archival copies are housed in the University Archives. Project Description The Great Depression in Weber County, Utah, is an Oral History Project by Mack S. Taft for completion of his Master's Thesis at Utah State University during the summer of 1969. The forty-five interviews address the Great Depression through the eyes of individuals in several different occupations including: Bankers, Laborers, Railroad Workers, Attorneys, Farmers, Educators, Businessmen, Community and Church Leaders, Housewives, Children and Physicians. All of these individuals lived in Weber County from 1929 to 1941. The interviews were based on what they remembered about the depression, how they felt about those events and how it affected their life then and now. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management This work is the property of the Weber State University, Stewart Library Oral History Program. It may be used freely by individuals for research, teaching and personal use as long as this statement of availability is included in the text. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Fields, Dr. Clyde Winslow, an oral history by Mack S. Taft, circa 1960s, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. 1 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Dr. Clyde Winslow Fields. Dr. Winslow discusses the difficulties of setting up a dental practice during the Depression, including working in the Eccles (First Security Bank) building, caring for some of the Eccles family, and the closure of the Ogden State Bank. He recalls dealing with bootleggers and sexual harassment, and professional jealousy within the medical, dental, and law professions. He also talks about vice on 25th Street including prostitution. The interviewer is Mack Taft. MT: What were you doing during the Depression years? Were you a dentist then? CF: I started in August 1929. I opened my office on the 14th of August, and the crash hit in October. I was here in Ogden in the First Security Bank building. I hadn't got started, and I had a wife and twin babies. We'd come from Portland, where I had been going to school. When we got here, we knew that she was going to have twins and were completely financially broke. We had no money, and we had borrowed money from my sister to open an office and take the state board, for that matter. I took the state board at that time, then I had three days at the Capitol Building and one day at the University of Utah and at the penitentiary, where I worked. That was in Sugar House at that time. I have often said that every young man ought to have the opportunity of being in the penitentiary for one day to teach him a lesson to stay out of trouble because it was one of the hardest tests I ever went through in my life. The strain I went through because I had a wife and twin babies that were born in July. Even though in that summer it was a boom time, I started in the middle of August and had all expenses and no income. I think that I collected 2 $550 gross between August and January. But of course my expenses were much more. It looked pretty good starting out in Ogden and then, of course, the crash came, and they kept saying, "It won't last, it won't last." But it went on and on and on. I didn't get any start before the crash came. I was in the First Security Bank building, and I was there eleven months. Then I moved over in the Eccles Building and joined offices with my father-in-law, Dr. Dwight Hardy, and we were. But I was in debt, and it was really a struggle because money was very hard to get after the crash came, and people were having a heck of a time trying to get any money. Of course they couldn't pay us at all, and it was a struggle for me. I had to keep going down to the bank renewing the notes that I had there because they were having a hard time, and the bank made me renew my notes every three months instead of every six months, as we started out. Of course people themselves were having a hard time. They finally came out with script. I think that was partially paid for by the federal government, and they'd buy vegetables with the script. Well, it was supposed to be really illegal to spend the script for dental or medical work, but then they needed help and they couldn't get it through the script, as they called it. So we traded them dental work for the script, and we would go buy vegetables with the script. This was common among the dentists and the physicians and all. Of course if got to be kind of a struggle for survival, and lots of things were done that maybe shouldn't have been done. Maybe I shouldn't mention this, though, but the county physicians were taking pay. They were being paid by the county, and they were also being paid by the patients. They found it out and caused a lot 3 of ruckus in the medical society, and almost split the society wide open because they were all having a hard time. When they tried to do it this way, it caused a lot of feelings. Of course the county commissioners felt bad because it was a bad mark on their record; and Mr. Stratford, who was a senior member of the county commission, asked my father-in-law if we couldn't squelch this thing in the medical society so that it wouldn't get out to the public too much because it looked so bad for him politically. MT: What kind of care did people take of their teeth during the Depression years? CF: Well, that was one of the hardest things that we had to put up with because there weren't very many that felt they were very essential. In fact, they let them go until they ached, and oft times there was a loss of teeth that ordinarily would not have been if they had the sense to get at them. But they didn't have the money, and we didn't have the money, and it was a very difficult situation. Of course some things were very bad situations because of the lack of care. It was the days of Prohibition, too, and this added another facet that most people don't stop to realize because we had a number of people who were doing bootlegging work who were out to get money. It later had a reflection that was very bad. Now among both the medical and dental and legal professions, if we found he was a bootlegger, we would charge him a more excessive price. We had two or three reasons for that. In the first place, we figured he made his money illegally. The second reason was that we never knew if we were going to have him the next day or not because he might be in jail. And the third reason was that they had the money when nobody else did. And this was a common 4 practice when we realized they were bootleggers and were in the business. Those were the ones we tried to make our money on because lots of times we had a hard time making it on the others. They did neglect their work – bridge work, anything that way, just the bare essentials. Sometimes not even that. Back in the phase of bootlegging, just to give you an example of what would happen, I had a man come into my office who was on what was known as the WPA at that time. He brought his wife in with a terrible toothache, and I didn't know them. They were strangers to me, but they had been referred to me. She was about seventh months pregnant, and she had a terrific toothache and they wanted something done. He was sort of a gruff fellow and said, "I can't afford to pay you, but," he said, "you can take the tooth out, and you don't have to deaden it. I know that's a cost to you and you've got to pay it, but," he said, "I can't afford to pay you, and I don't know when I can. She's got to go to the hospital and have a baby." I couldn't take the woman's tooth out without deadening it, so I deadened it. I said, "Well, if you get to where you can pay me, let me know." Because I was having a hard time buying milk for my twin babies. I couldn't tell hardly which tooth it was because they were all so bad, and I didn't know which tooth was aching. I couldn't afford to go very far myself, so I took the tooth out that she said was aching, and looking at the rest of those, I thought that she would soon be back for more. I didn't know, and within another month, she was back again with another toothache and the same story: "Oh, I can't afford to pay you." I couldn't see the woman suffer that way, so I went ahead and took it out. The next month 5 he came in, and he had a toothache. She was in the hospital. He couldn't stand a toothache, so he had gone down and bought him a fifth of whiskey from the bootleggers. Well, that made me furious. He could buy the whiskey, but he couldn't pay for his wife's teeth to be pulled. So I made him pay then. I made him pay it all, and I told him I wouldn't do his teeth unless he did. But these were the sad parts of it because she was a good woman, and he was just a weakling. We saw a lot of this in the Depression because people would often fake some of their injuries in order to get care, both medical and dental. Those were the people that I might say were more of a dishonest type that made it hard for us because if we tried to be honest, we never knew, as in a case like this one, it made it very difficult to get it. We used to do all kinds of things. We used to trade dental care for services, for groceries, and things this way. This was often very unsatisfactory because either on the dentist's side or on the patient's side, oft times one or the other would take advantage of the other. It did its service all right. It had a service, but it still was not satisfactory because one felt the other was taking advantage of them, and in some cases it may have been the dentist taking advantage of the patient. I know one dentist whose patient had apples to sell and couldn't sell them. He made him give him an exorbitant number of apples just to have his tooth pulled. The patient felt that it was very unfair, but they were desperate and needed help. Now, as far as the patient was concerned, they would take advantage of the dentist, declare hardship when they didn't have it. I had a case where welfare was supposed to be being done, and they were 6 dividing up some of these cases that were so bad, and some of the service clubs were having some done, and they wanted to know if the dentists would help out, and we did – we wanted to help out. But one day, one patient had so much work that they divided up among several of the dentists. I got part and Dr. Clark got the other part. Dr. Clark was a Mason, and belonged to the Masonic Lodge. One day he called me up and he said, "Hey, sucker, what are you doing?" He said, "This patient that we're doing work for, you and I, has no reason to be on charity." He said, "I found that out through the Masonic Lodge. His father is a railroad engineer, and they would be able to pay." He said, "They've gone on charity, and they're not supposed to be." Well, I said this was not fair to us because we were having a hard time, too. So we had all these kinds of problems to put up with because people were taking advantage. It got progressively worse as time went on because they figured, "Everybody else is getting it done, why shouldn't I?" So it was really not a satisfactory thing of trading services for dental. It was far more satisfactory where the cash was handled. Even though we may trade with the individual, grocers would come to us and want work done, and we would do it in trade for groceries. Well, sometimes I found that in some of the cases, not all, there were exceptions, but when the groceries were delivered, they were mediocre, poor fresh vegetables, fresh groceries, and they'd come that way to the home. I'd ask my wife to call them up and trade the bill off, and they'd bring that stuff that was really unsatisfactory, not fit to use sometimes. This was a common thing. Of course, it made the dentist want to slough his work. Yet we were held 7 by a law if we did slough it that would come at us in a lawsuit. This was a tough proposition. However, there were those who were perfectly straight and honest in all their dealings. But we were still always suspicious, and they were too. I know that I had patients come in. One patient came in and wanted to trade that way, and I did some work for him the first sitting. He said, "When are you going o finish the job?" I said, "You are finished." He said, "But when are you going to put the permanent fillings in?" I said, "They are in." He said, "But they can't be." He said, "The dentist I've been going to would just cut them open a little bit and put in a temporary filling, and have me come back, and keep charging me each time." I said, "I can't do that." Well, the dentist was protecting himself from the same proposition – the lack of honesty and fairness in trade. This was a continual problem with us. Now, in my own cases, I went up and picked peaches in payment for dental work I did. He let me have the peaches, but he charged me twice what I could pay for the peaches elsewhere. And I didn't know the price of peaches at the time, and my father-in-law found it out. It was one of his patients, and he sent me there to do that, to trade it. He was pretty angry about it, and called the man and called him down about it. People who were working for the WPA would do the same thing. I know they brought a man into me for a physical examination. He was supposed to have hurt his back while working for the WPA. The doctors couldn't find anything specific that was causing the pain in his back, and he was continually complaining. They had to pay him his wages. He was supposed to have been on the road grader when he was injured, and they had to pay him his 8 wages. I'd tried to examine him for his teeth, and the WPA was giving him the money, and he was supposed to pay his bills with the WPA check. But they gave him double money for the medical condition. I did get some money, but they asked us to keep the price down because they couldn't afford to carry too much. I walked out of the office one day and saw a man walking in front of me. I thought he looked familiar and, all of a sudden, I realized that it was this patient who was supposed to be injured and couldn't walk. But he was walking as normal as anyone I ever saw. I followed him for about two blocks. Then he turned around and saw me and recognized me, and started in with the best limp you ever saw. He went limping from then on. So these were the common things that we had to put up with, and yet we were having a struggle making our payments and paying our rent. Our rent was not held down, and so we had a meeting with the owners of the building and told them that we just couldn't afford to keep going on this way, and they couldn't afford to lower the rent. They were running the building in debt, and now they had a heavy debt to pay off, and they couldn't afford to cut the rent. So then the Eccles, the owners, said they would try to divide their medical and dental work up amongst the tenants of the building. Well, that created problems because Royal Eccles was one of the tenants, and he had been going to Dr. Tribe for his dental work. He was a good dentist, but then suddenly he brought part of his family to me and part of them to Lee Tribe. To try to be fair to Lee Tribe, I went in to him, and I said, "How do you charge because some of the family is coming to me?" Well, then Lee got mad, 9 and there was professional jealousy, which crept in because of these conditions. I know this was typical among dental, medical, and legal people because I saw it. A lot of them would not admit it but finally I said to Lee, "Now look, I'm trying to be fair with you and not undercut you. I just don't know how to handle this situation with him because he's hard to handle." And Lee said, "Well, he can afford to make a trip around the world, so he can afford to pay his dental bills. You have to charge him not by the job, but by the hour because he'll take more hours of your time than any of your other patients." I said, "Well, that's all I wanted to know." This was a problem. Now, in due time, Royal left me and went to another dentist in the building. He didn't come to me and ask how to handle him, and in due time he was complaining because he couldn't make any money on him because he took too much of his time. So I said, "Well, I went and asked Lee. He came from Lee to me, and Lee told me what was happening." I said, "You come to me and you could have found out, too." He said, "Yes, but I didn't want you to know that I had him." This was professional jealousy, you see. Patients were needed, wanted, and where there was any possibility of getting money, naturally you struggled to get it. Well, it's human nature. You just have to recognize that it's human nature. Some dentists would even make passes at the elevator girls to send them patients. People would come in and want a dentist, and they would want the elevator girl to send them to him, and they would give the elevator girls service and not charge them, or do it for a very cut rate. So then we had to go to the building manager, and the elevator girls had to receive strict instructions that they 10 would refer nobody to no one anywhere. Another thing that often happened, the patients wanted their work, especially young ladies, especially with young dentists, made some passes, and it made it very difficult. We had some moral problems came from that. This also happened in the medical and legal offices, and this I know because I know some of the girls that were involved, and I know the dentists that were involved. I know what happened to them, and how things went along. Sometimes it created a condition that was not very satisfactory. For instance, I had a girl come into me and wanted a tooth extracted, and I had reason to believe that she was from a bootlegging family. So I ordinarily charged $2 for an extraction, I believe, and my father-in-law came in, and I thought he recognized her from the bootlegging family. When he walked out, he put up his hand – $4 like that – so I charged $4. Well, she said that she didn't have the money with her, so there was nothing I could do but put it on the books. About two weeks later, she came in paid me 50 cents. Well, we were glad to have the 50 cents. Well, about two weeks later, she came in with another 50 cents. She said, "I could pay you all at once, but I kind of like you. It's too bad we only have dental appointments, isn't it?" So they were constantly. Now other girls did the same thing. I was a young dentist, new because I started out in August of 1929, and this was common amongst many of them. They were willing practically to sell themselves for dental services, and in some cases successfully so. But of course others of us had a little different standards. We didn't go for it, but this was a frequent problem. MT: What do you remember about the Ogden State Bank? 11 CF: Well, I remember quite a bit about the Ogden State Bank because they had certain involvements with me in an indirect way. It was a bank which everyone liked, and the friendship and the friendliness in there was very good. But then suddenly it crashed. It was a severe blow because many people had what little they had in there. This was true of both farmers and professional men, and it really hit them hard. The laws were not strict like they are now, and the legal professions went in there and helped straighten it out, and they really took advantage. They took a lot of money, and the depositors got it in the ear, and they didn't have a strict law as to what could be taken and what couldn't be taken. So the lawyers that were in there, it was common knowledge that they really took a great advantage of the people. It caused a lot of feelings. There was a lot said among the other professions about those lawyers really taking advantage of it and hurting the people alike. Now one of the Barkers was a cashier, and a lot of his friends had money in there. They were kind of teed off because he didn't inform them that the bank was going to close so they could get their money out. But he really didn't know himself, and the result was that he cracked up, and they had to take him to Provo for treatment for a while. It was said there was insanity in the family, but there was not. It was just the stress and strain on him from his friends accusing him that he didn't inform them that the bank was going to close. MT: Now, was that located on 24th Street? CF: Right where the Ben Lomond Hotel is now, that building right on the corner there. It was really a hard blow because sheep were running wild up here, and the bank 12 had money on them. The law was trying to foreclose on them, and the sheep owners couldn't pay it. So they had to send men out to try and take care of them, and some of them just running rampant because there was nobody to take care of the sheep. It finally began to resolve itself, but people lost heavily and it caused a lot of feelings. Of course it caused repercussions in my wife's family because this Barker that had the breakdown had a brother that was going with my wife's cousin, and this caused fear. They said that she couldn't marry him because of the insanity in the family. I believe that there wasn't because I knew the boy that she was going with. They said it was insanity, and they broke her relationship with him. Of course I lost my wife, Beth, and they didn't like the new fellow she was going with, so they tried to get me to go with her. When I first came here, I was like everyone else, and I liked to go hunting, and I couldn't afford to go. I had to stay here for every dime I could get. But during the second year, I went up with this cousin's father into Cache Valley to hunt, and so it was really hard to leave the office. So I was only able to spend one day up there. At that time, there was no minimum wage paid girls. I had girls come in my office and work for me – the first one came in and offered to work just for the experience so that she could get a job. They didn't ask any pay, and finally because of the stress and, I think, moral conditions was such that they took advantage of it. We found out that problems occurred more in the business than in the medical and dental profession. They took advantage of some of these girls because they needed help, and they needed work, and they had to almost sell themselves in order to get a job. It was not so prevalent here as it 13 was in some other areas. We got the reports all right, but there was some here. There were too many here with a higher moral standard, but we still had plenty that were not. Now, I had some here that I would get the money from, and I said to one of them, "How come you can afford to buy gas stations for your boys and give them jobs?" I had an idea that he was connected with the bootlegging, but when I started asking him questions he frankly told me where he got it. I realized that bootlegging was just a side issue. There was more money in the prostitution, and this was where he got a lot of money, and he frankly told me so. MT: What's your opinion of the repeal of the 18th Amendment? Was it a good move, or what do you feel about that? CF: I would say it was a good move under the conditions because it was being violated so much. If it had been enforced, I could see it. But it was not being enforced, and it was causing so much law violation and so much trouble, they were making money at it. But as far as paying taxes, they were not, and it was causing such a moral burden. I personally would be for the Prohibition, but the way it was handled, and the way it was turning out, the administration of it was a failure. MT: What was your opinion of Hoover and Roosevelt at that time? CF: Well, Hoover was a strait-laced Quaker, and my feeling was that he was handicapped because he didn't have the freedom to operate that was later given to Roosevelt. When the crash came, you could see that he tried to get the Federal Reserve Bank to give more credits to get business back on its feet. When he lost the election because of it, they blamed him for it. I don't think he 14 was any more to blame than anyone else. And he tried to get Roosevelt to send someone else to the White House – they didn't want to close the banks. He didn't want to, and he could see what was going to happen. He asked Roosevelt to send a representative to help him, and see if they couldn't get the Federal Reserve to cooperate. Roosevelt refused to cooperate. So by the time Roosevelt got in, things had deteriorated so bad that he had to close the banks. I personally think that it would never have had to be done if he had sent someone there in the first place to carry it on. But Hoover was a strict disciplinarian, and he wanted to carry it on to live the law. He wanted to do what was right. Roosevelt got in and immediately they gave him a blank check, and the whole phase of it changed. The Republicans were swept out, and the Democrats went in. Of course they'd been out for quite a while and they were glad to promise the people anything. The people were so desperate that they grabbed on to any promises that came up. He was a shrewd and clever politician, and he tried to soothe the people with the fireside chats. But basically, I think if he had gone in there as he had been asked by Hoover, he could have stopped the closing of the banks and forestalled a lot of the problems that came later – of killing little pigs and trying to curtail production because there was a limited market. But he had done this. The Federal Reserve Bank tried later, but it had gone so far by that time that it really caused still further deterioration until the war started in Europe, which started the upturn in business on war basis, not on an internal reconstruction. They were having too 15 many problems with pouring money in too many directions, and people were taking advantage of it. MT: The war, then, was actually the thing which ended the Depression? CF: It was, definitely. When the war came, then we started selling. When it began in Europe, a trend because they were buying, and then we got more and more and more on to a war basis. Of course, we became more involved in it ourselves. It became a war of prosperity. It was not prosperity itself. This was very evident to me and many others. We had expected and expected because the government had been priming the pump. But it didn't prime. Then the war came along, and from then on things started picking up. Of course then they started putting boys into the service and heretofore fellows trying to get into the dental profession were trying to get into the service because they were guaranteed an income according to their commission. They had their medical services taken care of – their dental services, hospital services, all that. A lot of the fellows in Ogden were trying to get in there. They joined the reserves trying to get into regular full-time employment in the service. There their business was assured, and their pay was assured. But as these fellows went into the service, that was when our business began to pick up. More industry was picking up because of it, and they started these installations out here. Then, of course, it started to rush. But I got out of the reserves because after my wife died, I'd been two years in succession, and I went down to Fort Douglas and spent two weeks as a dentist. I was glad to do it. The pay was good, and it wasn't the hard work of 16 private practice. But I went two years in succession, and that gave me promotion to a major. But as we got up to where we had a higher rank and higher pay, the government cut us off. I was one who got cut off. Then as the war started in earnest, they started drafting some of the dentists who hadn't been in at all, and then the business started picking up for all of us. MT: What about 25th Street there? Did it boom more during the Depression time than at other times, or what was the condition? CF: I would say yes because I know a number of the people. Some of them lived up in this area that worked down there. They were among the prosperous people, and bootlegging was doing a lot. Some of the people who owned buildings down there were getting good rental off the buildings. They claimed they didn't know what was going on down there, and this was brought out in investigations later on when they finally tried to close up a lot of this stuff on 25th Street. It was brought out because the Rose Rooms down there, she said that she didn't know what was going on down there. She didn't realize it, but she did all the time because she was really prospering. They were doing good down there, and a lot of that. One of the auto courts in Ogden that is now operating was built entirely on bootleg money. They did well enough and got enough money that he quit the bootlegging and was able to hire Native Americans here to do all the dirty work. They would get arrested, and he'd bail them out. When the war came on, they had jail records and couldn't get in it. His family could. But he was one of the instigators. I did his dental work when money was hard to get, and he was sent to me 17 by another doctor. He had been going to another dentist, and he had a good-looking girl, but her teeth were very crooked. Another dentist had tried to fool with them, and I knew nothing about that particular work at that particular time. They weren't very successful. They only had one orthodontist in Salt Lake, and he brought her in to me. He was very rough, very crude, and crudely wanted to know what I was going to do about the girl. I said personally that I wasn't going to do anything. I said, "Just calm down, and I'll send you to a person who can." He said, "I don't care about the money. I don't care about the money. Whatever it costs, I'll pay it." And I knew he was a bootlegger. So I called up the dentist in Salt Lake, and I told him what I had. I said, "He can afford to pay for it, and you see that he does pay plenty for it." He was standing right by my side when I told him. This other fellow that I did work for, another farmer, they came from Rock Springs. While he was sitting in my chair, he said, "I have all the money I need. I don't need to work." And he didn't need to work. He had plenty of money, and he bought gas stations to get his boys jobs. I had a man come in, and he had gotten in a fight there and had broken his front teeth. The more I talked to him, I assumed he was a bootlegger. I didn't want to soak him if he wasn't, if he was an honest man. I knew they were having their problems. But if he was a bootlegger, I wanted my money. So I kind of fished around but I couldn't get out of him what he really did. He was manager of one of the clubs down on 25th Street. Well, that gave me a clue. I told him what a new bridge would cost him. It was about three times what I would have normally charged. He said, "Well, you just as well get started on it." 18 I told him that it was a cash job because we had learned that if we didn't get cash from them at the time you did the job, they would be in jail, and you couldn't get it. So I went to work on him, and I got my money all right, and I finished the job. Two days later, he was picked up for owning a house of prostitution and was banished from the state. He went down to Las Vegas and practiced down there. One night, he came back here and got into another scrap and broke a tooth. He came into Ogden, and it was a hot summer evening. I was ready to quit, and he wanted me to fix his teeth. He said, "You'll get your money." He wouldn't leave the office until I got done. In between sessions, while I was working in the lab, he was calling his friends. I had to work until midnight. He said, "Doc, you're a fool working this way." He said, "I'm a welder by trade, but," he said, "I made $100,000 this year down in Las Vegas running the business I run." He said, "What do you want to work like this for?" But these were the temptations these fellows put before us. But of course my standards would not go along with this kind of thing. I did his work, and he paid me cash, and I charged him plenty. MT: What do you think it was more difficult for yourself or the average person to secure, food or clothing? CF: Well, I would say clothing may have been harder, but I don't think they put so much stress on clothing. After all, people will try to take care of the pangs of hunger first and clothing second. People liked to dress neatly, perhaps more respectably, maybe, than they do now. But nevertheless, they would make the 19 most of little, more so, I would say, than they do now. Because their attitude was, there was still a semblance of pride among the people, more so than there has been during the last few years. MT: Were there people in your acquaintance who did their own shoe repair and things along this line? CF: Yes, a lot of people did. They would do anything and try to fix anything up that they could. You could go into Woolworth's and stores like that, and you could buy rubber patches that you could glue on your shoes, and people did it. It was hard for them to do it, and they didn't do as good a job. But they did a service. People wore cheaper clothing, bit by bit. Sometimes they would look quite nice and try hard to keep it nice. It wouldn't last long because they were buying everything cheaper. Of course anybody that came out with anything cheaper, people tried it. Lots of times they got bit on it because they got things that were too cheap for the money they put into it. This was caused by these fellows who travel through the country selling clothing and things that way, and they would write and say they were coming through with clothes from Hong Kong, and they would sell it for half what it would cost in the store. The people would order, and when they got it, well, they really got taken. I got taken once that way, but not like a lot of them. I was on the seventh floor of the Eccles Building, and there were a whole bunch on the floor that got taken on some suits because they were no good. I'd paid $5 down. Well, the other guys, when they came, they paid the balance. Then when they saw what they got, they saw they were really taken. Well, I lost my $5, but I didn't get them, 20 and I was still money ahead. And this was a problem. Deception was a common problem. Fellows came through selling gowns, and they would take your measurements and your order and give you a receipt. They had stolen the order books, and the company didn't have any connection with it, and they took the deposits. MT: What about patent medicine during that time? Was there much of that? CF: Yes, there was quite a lot of patent medicine sold. One of the most common things at that time was Crazy Crystals, but that was pushed from down in Texas. There were a lot of things just like that. I can't remember the names of a lot of them. They sent samples to you, and they tried to get you to prescribe them and push them. Crazy Crystals were really the rage, and people would come in to me and tell me how much better they felt from Crazy Crystals. It cut out their constipation and they felt better. I quizzed them, and I told them, "You can do the same by drinking water." I said, "They've given you enough to give you a mild laxative, but, "I said, "Then they prescribe for you to drink so much water a day with it." I said, "If you'd just drink the water, you'd get the same result." Some of them didn't believe it, and to this day, I have patients come in and say, "How do I take care of this situation." I tell them, "You don't drink enough water." MT: What were some of the good things that came out of the Depression? CF: I would say at that time that people learned a little more self reliance. They learned to work. They learned to be more dependable in the things they did, and they tried to do more for themselves. I think also they learned to be more cooperative and helpful toward one another. There was more of a spirit of 21 cooperation. We were all in this boat together. People were more willing to cooperate because they couldn't do it otherwise. There was more of a spirit of friendliness. Of course, as I say, there were exceptions of those who tried to be greedy, but there was more of a spirit of friendliness and cooperation. MT: What did the wards do for entertainment then? Did they do a better job than they do now? CF: Yes, I would say they did because there had to be more of that kind of cooperation, and the wards tried every way they could to bring the people together because otherwise it was very depressing. It was a Depression both in spirit and in finance because people were hurt. People did more, and got together, and tried to help them out. It was a period of trying to organize. I think that the wards in the [LDS] church soon found out what they had to do because, heretofore, they had been depending upon commercialism, business to do these things. But now the people couldn't afford the commercial, and they had to cooperate or they'd die. There was more of it done. You'd find people more willing to do things. Of course, they stumbled along and struggled along trying to do some of these things. Of course when the church welfare program first came out, it was a blundering program. I criticized it a lot because when they started it out, they wanted the people in the wards who had fruit and those things to give every so many bottles to the ward to give to the needy. Well, my criticism came this way – the needy, all right. But let the needy help put it up. But if they want to come into the ward, let's get together and we'll furnish the fruit, not us do all the labor for 22 them. So that's a few criticisms that way started to bring the spirit of cooperation out of it, and they began to do things. But my wife was busy with three little children, and I didn't feel like loading her down with work to give to the others without them working in payment for it. So I said I would be glad to furnish the fruit and help with the bottles and a few things that way, but let them help to put it up. Finally it did begin to change, and soon it got to be a kind of cooperative thing within the ward. But it was a development process. MT: Did you have any innovative method of developing your clientele? CF: Yes, it was a matter of trying to work through clubs and others to try to develop educational programs through the PTA to show people that if they would regularly take care of their dental work that it would be much cheaper than if they had to get a lot done at once. We did a lot of educational work that way through clubs and PTA, and lecturing at the schools and organizations.

Issue 12.4 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; The Spiril: ot: SI:, Clare and I-ler Order Sister M. Immaculata, P.C: CEVEN centuries'ago, on August 11, 1253, the shadows of death ~ were lengthening around a group of sorrowing nuns whose ~ foundress and Mother lay dying. In ecstatic joy, she clasped to her heart a roll of parchment sealed with the Fisherman's seal. Clare Sceffi, a. noble lady of Assisi, had fled from her castle home when she was eighteen to follow Francis Bernardone. Francis had dreamed of adventure for. Christ, and no one had caught~ the flame of love that burned in his heart more ardently than Clare. Fran~is's course had now been run a full quarter of a century, and he was already b.eing venerated as the great saint whose popularity would grow even to our own day. pope Innocent IV had ascended the throne of Peter but the year before. His keen vision scanned the lower!rig storm clouds over a Europe ever beset by the Moslem threat. Could he but make the rulers of the Christian countries bestir themselves out of their com-fortable and only too often lustful letha/gy, to heed his call "God wills it !" With the burdens of ~his exalted, office heavy upon him, he, the Vicar of Christ thought of one little virgin, hidden behind cloister walls in Assisi. He knew Clare, heard she was dying; and he remem-bered the intrepid courage with which she had pleaded with him and some of his predecessors for approval Of her Rule, and of the Seraphic poverty to which she and her Daughters aspired. Innocent, like several Pontiffs before him, had,hesitated to approve a rule of life requiring such poverty as Saint Francis had bequea.thed to Saint Clare and her Daughters. Men, they thought, might oblige themselves to observe it,-but what of cloistered nuns? What would become of a community thus deprived of all revenue and financial security? Innocent was thinking of Clare, thinking of how she lay dying, her one wish and desire unfulfilled. He did not send her a message of comfort and his blessing. Under the inspiration, no doubt of~ the Holy Spirit, he grasped his pen, signed the Bull of approval con-taining her Rule; and then, with his retinue, turned his face toward Assisi. There at San Damiano he entered tl~e lowly cell of Clare and placed in her hands the approval for which she had prayed and 169 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Re~evo :or Religious ~)leaded and suffered for over f.orty years. We can imagine" the astonishment of Clare and her Sisters when the Holy Father himself stood at the convent portals. How she must have pre,ssed that docu-ment to her heart and sung her last hymn of love to Christ her Spouse. Clare had imbibed th.e spirit of Francis at its source, .cher-ishing it firmly and wholly, and bequeathing it to her Daughters as they knelt at her death bed. And they have cherished, loved, and guarded it. They have preserved it unchanged since 1253. Through 700 years the Rule of Saint Clar~ has often been buffeted by storms, and has been wounded at times by the infidelity of her children, but it has always emerged in its first freshness and .strength. It still lives in 1953, and today there.are 19 houses of Poor Clares in the United Stat~s. Our modern age has not been able to undermine the observance of the Rule nor destroy its spirit. The order has grown silently, spreading its branches in neaily every country of the world. No nationality but has found the Rule and its spirit congenial, so that the daughters of Saint Clare scattered throughout the countries of the world have always been able to adapt themselves to her Rule, which .has proved .independent of time or place. Today our American girls still observe the Rule Innocent IV placed in the hands 0f the dying foundress. " What is the spirit, contained in the Rule of Saint Clare? As. in ¯ her own time, her Daughters live a contemplative life in strict en-closure. The spirit, one of poverty, love of prayer leading to closest union with God, is joyous, and their personal sanctification is as much for the efficacious gaining of gra~e for"soul~ as for the strength-ening of the bond of love in the order. It is a life of joyful giving, closing the doors to what the world calls pleasure by the vow of en-closure, thus finding the treasure which is worth more than all pos-sessions. Though it embraces the deprivation of "the things the world de-sires and cherishes, this seclusion with its penance does not entail a sad, bleak; and joyless existence. It is not the thing~ that are barred from the cloister which bring peace and joy to the soul, but those that are found within, of which the world knows nothing. There is song in the heart of the cloistered nun. for she is not burdened with the superfluous gadgets and noises which fill so many hours of our com-plex modern life. Saint Francis has been coi~sidered a model of penance and self-abnegation, but was ever saint more joyous? Hadever a saint a heart 170 ,July, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE more full of music? His seemed to be an overflowing fountain of happiness, and he communicated it to those around him. In this, as in all else, Saint Clare was his faithful follower. Penance for her was not practiced for penance's sake. It was an outlet for the love burning in her heart ,and reaching out for more adequate fuel to feed its flame. This joyous spirit still pervades the cloisters where the Daughters of Saint Clare follow in her footsteps and observe her Rule. Their hearts are the cups that still hold the happiness of which the world has now so little, because their lives are still spent in genuine love and wholehearted giving. The worlff today is filled with sorrow and suffering,, and count: less hearts.are bearing a burden they could well consider supreme penance, did they but think of accepting all in a spirit of penance. The heart's most loving, if inarticulate, acceptance of penance is the willing b~aring of the unwelcome burdens so often placed on it by God. To be silent and lovingly resigned is always, to practice pen-ance in a very perfect form. The Daughters of Saint Clare vowing a Rule which imposes manypenances are but reaching out for greater love, ~vhich is warded With greater joy in God's service. Penance is not ugly, harsh, and fearsome. The bell which call~ one to ri~e from welcome sleep to seek the light of the sanctuary in the dead of night may sound un-welcome to a tired body: but is theie anything rfiore beautifuf_than the religious wending their silent 'way to the choir to make their first act of adoration before their Lord in the taberf.acle when the day has just begun? Standing in their stalls, they offer the praise of virgins before the face of~God, a prayer with the Son of God, ",bhile the world sleeps or sins. Does anyone know the joy in the hearts of those who give Him this homage? So it is with all the penances.prac7 ticed by the Daughters 6f Saint Clare. Penance for penance's sake is repugnant, meaningless, and very often food- for pride and phari-saism, so entirely alien to the spirit of Saint Clare. Penance for "love's sake is sweet. If there are still hearts in the world today which know unalloyed joy, they are undoubtedly those whose lives are being poured out in the most unselfish and wholehearted giving. Their joy is most full because their lives are most full of giving. The transition from the life of our modern girl to a postu!a~nt the cloister is not so drastic as some would suppose. Young, eager, lighthearted, with a soul attuned to God's grace, she assumes by slow degrees the duties and customs to which she adapts herself. She learns 171 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Review for Religious to love the hours of prayer, the Divine Office, the silence and regu-larity, The joyous acceptance of the sacrifices imposed by the Rule creatds a deep happiness and peace, which is found" especially in the hours of prayer. Prayer is not a ready-made gift in anyone. It en-tails mortification, is often itself mortification, but a mortification that decreases as the spirit of prayer and union with God increases There are no secrets of rapid progress over the rough path that leads to union with God, except the secret of persistent self-abnegation and striving for that wlsich obliterates self, and builds up in us the Christlikeness which alone makes us one with Him. But God does not lure us into the wilderness of. the contemplative life to forsake us and l'eave us to our own helplessness. True, we seem to take a leap in the dark When we embrace the contemplative life, but our Lover is not a human being whom we fear to trust. Like Clare who left her castle home in the dead of night, her Daughters follow where their Divine Spouse leads, and the path. is ever to union with God and the embrace of the Holy Spirit. While the enclosed life of contemplation should not be glamor-ized, neither should it be made a fearful existence df joyless sacrifice and penance. Too often is either mistake made. Those who look for a thrill rush to embrace what they do not understand, looking for something occult, dxpecting tangible thrills of gra.ce or ecstatic prayer before they have hid anything like the foundations of the spiritual life. On the other hand, ferszent though timid souls are often over-come by fear of what may be expected of them once they step behind the cloister walls. Neither is the correct attitude. Those to whom God gives a vocation to the contemplative life, have, nearly always, a natural yearning for God. They want Him, are looking for means of. union with~Him, "have a certain joy in prayer, and, with the light affd guidance of the Holy" Spirit, find pehce of soul in the difficult stretchds of the way as well as happiness in His tornforts. Union with God is a growing state, and though it often advances in dark-ness there are times when it comes into the light, and a light that does not fade entirely even when the way is again through dryness. There is too much emphasis put on the trials, sufferings, and dark-ness of the interior life and not enough on the joy in God and peace Of soul found therein. It has been said that Saint Clare, had she lived in our day, would have founded a missionary order. No Daughter of hers would ever consent to this opinion. Clare knew without a doubt to what she 172 dulg, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE was called and she never wavered. She did not simply follow a pat-tern of her time. Indeed, we know that a number of:Benedictine houses, especially the large one at Florence, took the Rule of Saint Clare. It was Agnes, her sister, who was sent there to be the abbess under the new Rule. Francis knew Clare was a contemplative, as he was himself, and the hearts of both were so much the missionary's that no field of labor would ever satisfy' their zeal. Nothing less than the entire world would be Clare's mission field, as it was that of Francis and his Order. Italy and Assisi were no closer to her than the farthest-flung mission. No contempla.tive is one indeed if she has not' the heart of a missionary. Francis's was the call to go out and preach,. Clare's the outstretched arms of a Moses on the mount of contemplation. Clare would give to Christ, her Spouse, not only herself, but all the world. She'knew the fields were white for the harvest and she would obey the words of Christ and pray that the Master send laborers into it. He did not bid her go out and gather it in, bu~ strengthen the arms of the workers. She knew the limita-tions of her own weakness, but prayer and sacrifice, united with the prayer of Christ in the Divine Office, in in~erior love and union, were and are the all-powerful weapons which can reach the opposite ends of the earth at one and the same time. It was the spirit of Clare. as it was the spirit of Francis, to be daring enough to wish to support the Church, on her own weak shoulders, knowing that the Hands and Heart of her Divine Spouse were supporting her. The Spirit of Saint Clare, the foundress of the "Poor Clares, is still living and burning brightly after seven centuries. It calls to the heart cJf the modern girl of our cities as it did t6 those of the middle ages. The life she and Francis instituted for her Daughters is not outmoded in the 20th century, but instead is as living, warm, and joyous in the hearts of the novices of ~oday as in the days of Saint Clare in the little monastery of San Dami~no in 1253. ST. CLARE PLAY BY A POOR CLARE Candle in Umbria is the story of Saint Clare of /~ssisi told in a verse play by a Poor Clare Nun. The play of four acts, eight scenes is suitable for production by college :students or by high schools with special direction. The play was written to honor the foundress of the Poor Clares on the seventh centenary (1953) of her death. The authi~r is a regular contributor to Spirit magazine. ~$1.00 per copy, including the music for the "Canticle of the Sun" which is embodied in the play. Those interested in obtaining a copy of this productior~ should write to: Poor Clare Monastery, Route 1, Box 285 C, Roswell, New Mexico. 173 News and Views Yocational Institute at Fordl~am The Third Annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Voca-tions will be held by. the School of Education, Fordham University, Wednesday, July 29, and Thursday, July 30, on the Fordham. campus. Ways of encouraging, fostering, and guiding vocations~.to the diocesan priesthood an/d to the religious life will be~ discussed by outstanding experts. For further information write to Rev. John F. Gilson,.S.J.,' Fordham Univ. Sch6ol of Education, 302 Broad-way, New York 7, N.Y. ,~ Institute of Spirituality At the National Congress of Religious, held last summer at the .University of Notre Dame, it ,was suggested that the University offer summer school courses in spiritual theology and an institute of spir-ituality each year for the Sisterhoods. This suggestion was favorably received by the representati(,es of the Sacred Congrdgation of Reli-gious and by th.e religious superiors who attended the congress. To carry the suggestion into effe~0 the Notre Dame Department of Religion is inaugurating this summer a program of courses in spir-itual- theology as part of its graduate work in view of a Master's De-gree in Religion. Moreover, since many superiors and mistresses of novices are unable to be present for the summer school, courses, the University is offering a distinct. Institute of Spirituality for them. This is also sponsored by the Department of Religion. The Institute is not a part of the academic program and offers no credits towards a degree. All the lectures and discussions are specially arranged for Sisters superior and novice mistresses. A~ the formal opening of the Institute, on the evening of July 31, His Excellency,. the Most Reverend John F. O'Hara, C.S.C., D.D., will deliver the address. From August I to 7, there will be three lectures each morning. Topics and speakers for these series of lectures are: "'The Role of the Sister Superior and Novice Mistress," by Rev. Paul Philippe, O.P.; "The Theology of the Religious Life and the Vows," by Rev. Joseph Buckley, S.M.; and "Ascetical and Mystical Theology," by Rev. Charles Corcoran, C.S.C. Each after~ noon, August 1-6, the three lecturers will cbnduct workshops on their subject-matter. On four evenings, August I-4, there will be 174 Julg, 1953 NEws AND VIEWS special lectures, running simultaneously, as follows: "The Liturgy and the R~ligious Life," by Rt. Rev. Martin Hellriegel; "Canon Law for Religious," by Rev. Romaeus O'Brien, O.Carm.; and "Psycho-physiology and Religious Sisterhoods," by Rev. Gerald Kelly, S.J. The Institute will close on the morning of August 7 with an address by Very Rev. Theodore M. He.sbargh, C:S.C., President of the Uni-versity of Notre Dame. Morol Theology ond Love There was a day when the science of Christian moralit~r included everything that is now partitioned into moral theology, ascetical the-ology, and mystical theology: in othei~'words, it included the entire Christian life, in all its degreesof perfection. Bdt the very growth of the su,bject-matter made some kin~i of division necessary, at least for teaching purposes. This division more or less limited moral the-ology to the sphere of what is obli~Tator(/: tb the study of laws, of the exact limits of the obligations imposed by the laws, to the.conditions which might constitute exemptions from these laws. and so foith. There is one great advantage of this ~partiti0n: it makes a dear distinction between what is obli~Tator~l and what is superero~lator~t; and this distinction is ext~rbmely important for the preservation of peace of soul. Nevertheless, from the point of view of moral the-ology, there is also a decided disadvantage: the science is made to ap-. pear too negative. Perhaps every student and professor of moral the-ology has been conscious of this disadgantage, and perhaps many of them h:~ve tried to find some way of introducing a more.positive and inspirational dement into moral theology without, of course, scaring its basic clarity. Father G. Gilleman, S.J., a Belgian Jesuit who teaches theology in India, suggests that moral theology can gain its necessary inspira-tional note by emphasizing charity as the very soul of the Christian life--which it truly is, whether in the sphere of obligation or' of supererogation. Those who ire'intdr~sted in improving.the method of moral theology should nbt fail to read Father Gilleman's book. The title is, Le primat de la charitd en thdologlie morale. It is pob-lished by E. Nauwelaerts, Louvain, Belgium. The price is 225 Bel-gian fr'ancs. $t. Joseph Research Center A St. Joseph" Research and Documentation Center has been estab-lished at St. Joseph's Oratory, Montreal 26, Quebec. The constitu- 7.5 NEWS AND VIEWS tions of this organization have the approval of His Eminence, Paul Cardinal Lel~er, Archbishop of Montreal. The purpose of the so-ciety is to encourage a more profound study of the position of St. 2o-seph, and eventually to subsidize works published on the saint. It will sponsor research in fields such as church history, liturgy, and the arts, as well asin theology. Membership is open to' all interested in-dividuals or groups. Inquiries can be sent directly to St. Joseph's Oratory in Montreal or to Rev. F. L. Filas, S.J., at Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago 26, Illinois. Scholarships at Catholic University" The Catholic University of America has made provision for. 160 half-tuition scholarships for post graduate studies for the next aca-demic year. Open to lay men and women, priests, Brothers, and Sisters, the grants/ worth $300 towards 'tuition, will be awarded on the basis of scholastic excellence and financial need of the applicant who is entering on post graduate work. Grants are available in all studies except philosophy, engineering, and architecture. Appli-cants should write to the Registrar, Department G, Catholic Univer- ¯ sity of America, Washington, D.C., for additional details on the program. Office of the Passion in English The Confraternity of the Passion, in answer to many requests, has had The Little Ofl$ce of the Passion of Our Lord desus Christ translated into English and made available in Small booklet form. The booklet may be obtained for 25 cents from the Confraternity of the Passion, Sacred Heart Retreat, 1924 Newburg Road', Louisville, Kentucky', or from any Passionist Monastery. ~ Layos Catholic Records Layos Records is a Hollywood recording company devoted ex-clusively to the production of Catholic records. The first record, " "Act of Contrition," is already in circulation. Original music was composed by Peter; Jona Korn, and the piece is performed by the Roger Wagner Chorale. The company plans to sell the recordings through advertisements in the Catholic press. A five-year schedule calls for the production of a new Catholic record, at six-week inter-vals. The firm is being advised in its musical program by Father John Cremins, head of the music depastment of the Los Angele~s Archdiocese. The record company is anxious to ha~,e suggestions from Catholic music and audio-visual departments regarding the type of material to be recorded. 176 On !:he Particular i:::xamen [EDITORS' NOTE: The first two articles on the particulmr examen .arrive~l almost simultaneously. The fact that the first is from an American Brother studying in Switzerland and the second from a Belgian missionary in India would seem" to indicate, universal interest in this practice of asceticism. The third contribution to this "sytfiposium"'is .from a member of the Jesuit Mission Band of the New Yot;k province. Communications from Our readers that may bring some more hdpful ideas to the practice of the particular examen are: welcome.] William T. Anderson, S.M. UMAN nature is prone tO falling into a rut. Those who lead very ordered lives often become slaves to routine. Religious sometimes feel the deadening effe~ct of routine and.habit: in fact, if we ark not car~eful, we find ourselves going to chapel without any preparation and without ~any aim. Day after day slips by and, before we know it, a year is gone. When .we 'take inventory at the annual-retreat, the shelves of our spiritual warehouse look" bare indeed. Perhaps we ought once in a while to ask ourselves a few embar-rassing questions on our religious duties. The reflections listed below are the result of just such a scrubbing of the~ soul. What effect has particular examen had on me? What is my attitude towards this ex-ercise? What importance has this exercise ir~ the spiritual life? Is there any direct ratio between successful zeal and progress in particu-lar examen? After .asking yourself these questions, try to answer them honestly. Then read on and see whetheroyou agree with the ideas given below. 1. A written record is a "'must" for examen. A record book for examen was insisted on in the novitiate. Over and over we heard how necessary this was. Yetsome 'religious perhapscast their examen book out the window of the car carrying them from the novitiate to the train station. Some of us used it for a while, but then discarded it. And that ~ras the beginning of the end. Perhaps most religious who do not make examen with a record as a help do not make exa-men. I~ this a rash statement? Do .you make examen faithfully without a iecord? Does your personal experience agree with this observation ? 177 "~,VILLIAM T, ./~NDERSON Re~iea2 for Religious 2. The subject for~ examen must be specific. If the subject is not limited to definite occasions during the day, or to specific'times scat-tered oxier the usual schedule, after a time the examen, period becomes' " 6nd during which 6u~ Stomach continually reminds us "that a meal is not,far off, or it is a p~eriod of planning unconsciously our work for the rest of the day or the morrow. Vagueness here is the deadly ene-my of progress. 3. Our apostolic influence is in direct ratio to our efforts at par-ticular examen. We learned in the scholasticate that while knowl-edge is very necessary for a teacher, the more important ingredient for a successful teacher and religious educator was the hbility to get along with people and to attract souls. Anyone who has taught fora few years will attest to the authenticity of this statement. Any one will also agree that teaching boys, especially adolescent b.oys,.can be a very nerve-racking job. Nervous tension may ruin any influence which we might have with students when we use sarcasm or unjust punishments, show favoritism or laxity on some occa-sions, or exercise undue ~ever!ty on others. Examen is the means which we have at our disposal to develop in us that self=control which is so necessary for the teacher. To be kind when words of sarcasm rise to outlips, to be exacting ~h~n we fed sluggish and lazy, to give words of correction which yet, do not cut, to be patient when we have had little sleep or food (as on fast days), ~o work steadily despite the fact that "results" are not forthcoming--is M1 this.poisible without examen? Most prob-ably not. As soon as we stop working at examen, we find ourselves difficult to get along with, harsh, lazy, or sarcastic. The weeds of our defects spring up rapidly'bnce we lay down the hoe of particular exam'en. 4. Particular examen is a sine qua non for communit~l life. All of the.foregoing can be just as well applied to community life. Com-munity life sometimes causes a lot of friction, some heat, and at times, even fire. Examen is the~exercise we need to mold our charac-ters so that we learn to avoid occasions which.cause arguments' or to cement, fraternal relations, once they are broken.~ Community life is sometimes a big cross; there is no need to make Jrbigger for a fellow r~ligious. 5. Examen is one of the best means we have of attaining our ideal, desus,'Son of Marv. Putting off the old man and putting on the new man is quite a job for us weak mortals, afflicted as we.are by 1"78 953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the effects of original sin. It seems impossible that a religious can be sincere and continue hi~ striving for perfection in religious life with-out keeping up with the daily examen. Progress tgward making ourselves like to Jesus, Son of Mary, is made only by the grace of God and constant striving on,our part. Much of oar progress in the spiritual life proceeds, ex opere operantis. And examen is an excel-lent measuring rod for our own effort. 6. Examen is one of our most poten~t means of recruitment. Stu-dents join our ranks, not because of what we say or what we write. but because o~ what we are. If we are real religious, if we are. happy in the knowledge that we are striving to perfect ourselves,, if we show the acquired virtues of patience, charity, humility, and piety, it is ~mpossible that recruits will not come to us. Is there a. better adver, tisement for the religious life than a real religious, one who is daily advancing in virtue? Holiness attracts. Examen is a potent means of holiness. . Perhaps you do not agree with all or even any of the foregoing reflections. 'Be that as it may, you must admit that, granted that particular examen is necessary, we often negl.ect this important reli-gious exercise. Not only must we strive to be present for the examen each day, but we must make it fruitful by daily striving.~ Growth. in" virtue seems to demand the daily examen. As his particular examen goes, so goes the religious. P. De Letter, S.J. The particular examen i~ a common practice of modern spiritual-ity, As every canonical fiovice knows, it consists in direct.ing atten-tion to a particular point, either a fault to be corrected or some practice of virtue, to be fostered. Popularized if not originated by St. Ignatius~ of Loyola, this has become a common tactic in the spir-itual life. All have a passing acquaintance with it. As proposed in the Spiritual ExWcises, attention is to be focused on the particular examen three times every day: at the morning oblation, in theexam-ination of conscience at noon, and again 'during the evening exam-ination. Through this practice gifferent defects, are "gradually elim-inated and needed virtues acquired. 179 ~ P DE LETTER Remeto for Rehgtous A Fact from Experience Yet some religious do not succeed with the particular examen. They apparently fail to see its use 6r grasp its meaning: At any rate, they draw little, profit from it even whrn they do not drop it alto-gether as a useless formality. This is true even among religious who in no way neglect their interior life. Their failure is not due to wil-ful neglect or to tepidity. They simply do not' see their way to making a success of the practice. . Since sound spiritual writers speak so highly of the worth of the particular examen, it seems desirable to examine some apparent neglect and to revalue._.this spiritual exercise. We may sum up its importance by saying it is a sign of spiritual vitality, especially for those who have spent some years in religion. It may not be all-important m itself, at least when it is thought of and practiced in too narrow a manner. Generally its practice is a good indication that.the interior life is thriving. More often than not, its neglect means alack of spiritual vitality. In a limited sense, fidelity to" the practice of the examen can serve as a barometer reading of spiriti~al fervor. A Restricted Conception of the. Exarnen The formal idea of the particular examen can be applied in two different ways regarding both the choice of the subject matter and the manner of conceiving its pragtice. One way is very concrete and definite, perhaps too mechanical and artificial at least for life-span practice. For instance, we decide on rooting out a habitual fault such as the neglect of silence, resolve to avoid transgressions, and keep a record of the eventually-decreasing faults. Or we concentrate our attention on a specific practice of virtue such as kind interpretation of the actions of others and endeavor to. increase the number of these acts throughout the day, checking at noon and night to see how we have succeeded. This method is very rightly advised in the beginning of the religious life. It is an effective means of correcting exterior faults and defects and of gradually developing a religious way of thinking, speaking, and acting. It is also useful at other periods in life when it is necessary to remedy some faulty way of speaking'or acting that has crept in unnoticed. Another Approach If the particular examen is to measure up to what writers say about it and be a really powerful means of progress, there ought to be another way of conceiving its practice which does justice to its 180 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN importance. A number of religious have given the assurance that the following approach "works." Instead of taking just any particular fault or practice of virtue, we should fix on some central interest or need of our spiritual life. If the subiect is important it will less easily be forgotten. Then its !~ractlce, oreferably positive rather than nega-tive, should be conceived in a broad and inclusive manner. By means of the resolve made and renewdd at the three times--morning, noon, and night--we work at gradually penetrating our working day with an ideal or conviction rather than at c.ounting a number of particular acts 6r ,defects. To be more specific, the most suitable ;sub.iect matter for our par-ticul~ r examen is the main resolution or resolutions of our annual re- " treat. When this subiect is properly" chosen, it answers a real need and generMly our great~st one. It may crystallize into some maxim or mqtto. Then the oractice will consist in keeping this before our mind or recalling it when needed and pbssible. We thus slowly come to live in the atmost)here or disposition which our watchword con-veys. ¯ We begin to think, speak, and act accordingly. Some examples are: "The LordIoves a cheerful giver": "Ndt for me, Lord, but for Thee": "To have that mind in you which is in Christ." The prac-tice of framing our resolution in a driving maxim or a quotation from Scripture can be very helpful 'though it is not essential. What is essential is to keep before our mind a definite objective, sufficiently central and important for our personal interior life, such as cannot be lost sight of as long as our effort for spiritual "progress is kept alive. In this method our faithfulness and success in the,practice of the par-ticular examen are the criterion of our vitality and fervor. This will create a .congenial interior climate in which our souls can thrive. The importance of tEis concep~ion of the examen is evident at once. Nor is there any danger that we shall overlook and forget it throughout a busy day. If our work is permeated with a driving spiritual ideal, as it should be if it is to be different from mere secular work, a particular examen that looks after 6ur present main spiritual need will help sustain this retreat-clear inspiration. It is only in moments of forgetfulness when we neglect grace and allow natural-ism to guide our thought or conduct that the particular examen will also suffer from this spiritual thoughtlessness, But the examen itself, by reason of the resolve and the effort it implies, helps to forestall or exclude and .certainly to dimi6ish these "secular moments" in our days. 181 P. DE LETTER Review [or Religious Room [or Varietg We need not fear that this method will leave no room for a helpful variety that will maintain interest. When our particular examen aims at our central, yet definite, spiritual interest or need, its subject, matter can and naturally will take on many different aspects according to the variations of that interest or need, directed both by grace and by our psychology. As a matter of fact, our spiritual needs and interests evolve gradhally according to seasons and circumstances and to the inspirations of grace. These will reveal now one,e, ~now another side which before remained more or less hidden or unnoficed. Moreover, when our retreat resolutio.n, as is gener~ally the case, is not restricted to one but foresees several particular needs, we can alternate the practice and change from one to the other when the 'one seems to have worn out and lost its grip. Later, we can often return to the first with a refreshed outlook and new ardor. ( Dispositions and/or Acts Does this manner of practicing the examen require specific acts as does the first, or may we dispense with these? It may require them and generally does. That depends on the subject matter and on in-dividual dispositions. Some people can maintain a habitual disposi-tion of recollectedness or selflessness without insis(ing on or multiply- , ing definite acts. Others are in need of such acts, which arise spon-taneously from their resolve to be recollected or self-forgetful. spirit of praye.r normally demands some explicit acts of formal prayer; habitual or virtual prayer alone would not be sufficient. Self-lessness, trust, apostolic zeal can be habitual dispositions, but some explicit acts, whether exterior or interior, would not do any harm but would help very much even if they were not altogether necessary. The marking in a book after the noon "and evening check-up, which is generally a real help to our dodging human nature,'is not to be overlooked in this second way. But it need not be done in numer-als. Some people are congenitally poor in.arithmetic. Instead of marking the number of acts or df faults, a gener~al notation may suf-fice, for instance: good, average, poor; or A, B, C; or any way one prefers. When we mean business with our particular examen and make use of all the means to succeed, we still must expect times when our effort will have little success. Some days everything goes well spir-itually; other days it does not. These ups and downs need not be 182 July, 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN ; magnified; even in0 the "downs:' our effort can and generally does remain substantially faithful and successful to an extent. This should not be oveHooked: otherwise unwarranted and naive optim-ism may flounder during low moods, Provided our desire and effort .does not flag, even this partly unsuccessful particular examen still marks a steady progress. - The second way of conceiving and. practicing the particular exa-men makes the exercise not just a small device for casual use if it suits but rather an important ~nd obligatory factor in every serious effort for progress. Without it. spiritual life~.slackens if it does not die down. Perhaps we should say that every, fervent life actually keeps this practice of the particular examen, though possibly without giving it that name. Every fervent spirituality is practically boun,d to aim at and concentrate on some definite objective required by the present need. Fervent sduls do so spontaneously. It can only make for better ~esults if they are aware of this law of spiritual vitality and resolve to follow it. Seen in this light, the particular examen-is an essential unit inthe structureof spiritual progress. It is, not just a decorative trifle. We need not fear that this determined and steady effort at lJrog-ress in one particular direction will result in a state of uneasy t~nslon and nervousness. As in the whole spiritual life, so also here, ti~e-de-sire and endeavor for advancement must combine ardor and peace,, earnestness and patience, genuine'effort and disinterested acceptance of the results. For is it not grace that makes our effort possible and suc-cessful? Human endeavor is a subordinate factor. It is no doubt, necessary: grace does ndt replaceit. But it is trust in grace combined with sincerity in not sparing ourselves unduly that makes a burning, yet peaceful ardor possible. The particular examen, understood in this grand and realistic way,, repays, th~ effort we make in a measure which it is impossible,to anticipate. Fidelity to grace is often re-warded beyond human expectation. Gabriel A. Zema, S.J. 1. Let us take, for example, the habit of passing on to a friend or acquaintance our low opinion of the fault or sin 0f another. De-pending on circumstances, the thing may be no sin at all, a.venial, or a mortal sin. Even if no actual sin, it is a habit that belongs to no 183 GABRIEL A. ZEMA lady or gentleman; and it can lead to a lot of trouble. 2. On rising, or after morning prayer, write a figure, say "3," some place where you can again see it at the end of the day. (Even nosey people will never know what "3" stands for.) For you "Y' means you are determined to control your tongue three times that day on the habit you set ouk to break. 3. When you look at the figure at the end of the day while examining your conscience as every sincere re!igious.should--it is pos- Sible you won't know what it stands for yourself. You may even have forgotten you put it there. ,But a little reflection will bring back the breaking-that-habit idea. 4. Very well, begin all over again. On the second day you may find that you have not controlled your tongue even once. Go to the third day more determined than ever. 5. I~eep'up the practice for ten or twelve days. You will find a definite improvement if you are at all serious about it. 6. At the end of ten or twelve days take tip another fault and give it ~he same treatment. Follow the same procedure. After you have worked on three or four faults.--never forgetting to keep im-' proving on them--go back to the first one and see how the patient looks! 7. In morning and evening prayers ask Our Lady to come to your aid. BOOK NOTICE THE INTERIOR CARMEL: THE THREEFOLD WAY OF LOVE, by John C. H. Wu, a very brilliant Chinese. convert, diplomat, and scholar, "wi'll help highly intellectual.lay men and women to raise their spiritual lives of contemplation and divine love td an equal height and to give them something of the lofty mysticism that char-acterized St. John of the Cross. It will also aid very busy religious or priests to make their exterior activities conducive to a ,higher and more intense internal spirit. Interestingly and inspiringly Dr. Wu quotes the ancient Cbiriese sages, Confucius and Mencius, to rein-force the lessons of modern Catholic and Spanish Carmelite mysti-cism. (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1953. Pp. xii + 257. $3.25.) 184 Child Mo!:her: r cious ynt:hesis Mother Winifred Corrigan, r.c. AT HOLY COMMUNION, the soul authentically in love with ~ God, is sometimes conscious of itself as a banq~ethall in which the memorable gospel of the anointing of the Lord's feet by "a sinner" is being reenacted. This soul becomes aware in itself of two sep.arate impulses. One is the generous spirit of the Magdalen, utterly expending self for the beloved Master, freely offering to spend its best years in obscurity or lovingly giving its body to be burned. The other impulse, also within .the soul, is viewing, rea-soning, even objecting: "To what purpose is this waste?" It is the soul speaking in terms of the apostle 3udas, not yet the traitor, who prudently considers the extravagance of broken alabaster."For this might have been sold for much, and given to the poor." That Our Blessed Lord openly favored and approved the sym-bolic self-surrender ~f Mary Magdalen, the sinner, we know. "The poor you have always with you but me you have not.always." We have experienced, too, bow the logic of Divine Wisdom reconciles our opposing desires and restores equilibrium. "Thy. sins are for-given thee. Thy faith hath'made thee safe, go in peace." Devotion to Mary performs a similar function. It tends to unify two spiritual realities sometimes thought to be at variance: the doctrines of spir-itual" cbildbood and spir!tual motherhood. Why are these doctrines ever considered incomigatible? In the natural order, it is plain that the two states, childhood and mother-hood, are not in opposition. Obviously, the same person can be both child and mother. The basic concept, mother, one who merci-fully sustains the life of her offspring ("do not kill it"), is unfor-gettably presented to us as illustrating the wisdom of Solomon. "Give the living Child to this woman.for she is the mother there-of." This concept of mother ~choes the first woman's name, Eve, mother of the living. The concept of child, in the Divine Mind, is expressed for us in the Fourth Commandment. In the Book of Ec-clesiasticus (Chapter 3) the blessings of fruitfulness and long life are promised in detail to the loving, obedient child. Writing to his dear Ephesians, St. Paul confirms this divine revelation for New Testa- 185 MOTHER WINIFRED CORRIGAN Review for Religious merit times.- "Children, obey your parents in. the Lord, for this is just. Honor thy father and thy mother, which is the first command-ment with a prorriise: that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest be long lived upon earth." Thus, for the Christian, it is natural for the faithful child to become fruitful, nor would the sacrifice of mar- ¯ riage and family usually be required in order to keep the Fourth Commandment. In the supernatural order, the harmonious' sequence between the roles of child and mother is less apparent. In making ready to lighten up the mists by reference to M.ary, it may be well to clarify the meaning of the terms, spiritual childhood and spiritual mother-hood, according to Scripture and the lives of the saints. Spiritual Childhood Our Lord has strongly set forth the reality, even. the necessity of spiritual childhood. "Amen, I say to you, unless you be converted, and become as little, children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." He then counsels the humility of a little child for his disciples, and for all who would be "greater in the kingdom of heaven." The reality of spiritual motherhood is presented for us in the forceful language of St. Paul. "My little dhildren," he wrote to the Galatians, "of whom I am in labor again, until Christ be formed in you." His apostolic cry for souls re-echoes the appeal of the Divine Lover, heard in the Old Testament (Isaias 49:15). There it tran-scends rather than distinguishes itself from the pangs of .natural motherhood. "Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her wombs. And if she should forget, y.et will I not forget thee/' Amid the miracles of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we find this divine, motherly concern for human needs manifesting itself in a sweet, considerate way. He took the hand of Jairus' 12"-year-old daughter and raised her from the dead. Then, having counselled her parents to secrecy, he "commanded that something should be given her to eat." Some of tl'Je saints have discovdred the .beautiful qualities of spir-itual childhood and spiritual motherhood.contained in the above and similar passages. At Holy Communion, they have explored the mystery of their Eucharistic Lord .entering the human body, resting there like a helpless, unborn child, in order to nourish the life of the soul. The Divine Word, repeating the mother's cry: "Do not kill 186 Jul~,1953 GRACIOUS SYNTHESIS it!" 'daily fulfills His own promise: "The bread that I will give. is my flesh, for the life of the world." The saints have understood how, by their very self-effacement, by being belittled and becoming as little children, they too can maternally assis~ in the birth, growth, and' development of the Mystical Body. St. Th~r~se of the Ch'ild Jesus (1873-1897) has renewed the interest of the modern world in the doctrine Of spiritual.childhood: Her position as youngest child of the Martin family and her early entrance into religious life preserved in her soul the true attitude of a child. How this spirit of utter dependence on her heavenly Father helped her to fulfill her maternal duties as nox}ice mistress to the souls "who came to me asking for food," she tells with unique charm in her Autobiographgt (p. 213). Her present title of patroness of the missions suggests the breadth of her spiritual moFherh0od, hidden deep in her youth and Carmel. No discordant contrast is the spirituality of Blessed Th~r~se Couderc (1805-1885), foundress of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Retreat in the Cenacl~. As the oldest girl in a large family and as young superior of a religious community, sloe early developed the valiant traits characteristi(of spiritual motherhood. Then. con-sequent upon bet consecration to Our Lady, shesaw her responsibili-ties removed and she went down willingly into years of oblivion. In her 60th year, Blessed Th~r~se or, as we know her better, Mother Th~r~se, had emerged from the darkness of humiliation and failure, to find herself a humble, cherished adorer confronted with the holi-ness of God. "He treats me always." she wrote at this time, "like a child who would not have the strength to bear trials, Also the sweetness He makes me feel in His service makes me forget and bear all." This is the stage at which she detailed her doctrine of self-surrender. While it graduall~ led her into the thicket of unitive suffering and reparation, she continued to call it an easy means of sanctification, noting that there is "nothing so sweet to practice.': Marg, the Ideal The ideal of self-surrender is Our Lady of the Cenacle. It is Our- Blessed Mother in th~ last. perhaps 15-year, epoch of her earthly life. She has already received her Divine son's formal commission for the motherhood of mankind, on Calvary. In the Cenacle or "upper room," by a mother's persevering prayer and a claild's anonymity- ("who when she was first of all became-the last" St. Bernard), 187 COMMUNICATIONS ReotetO [or Reltgtot~s Mary continues to attract us to the sublime by the gracious synthesis of her life. In religious life, Mary's spirit is learned and gained in a'variety o.f ways: perhaps in the shared intimacy of Holy Communion, perhaps in the fragrant solitude of a retreat. Our Lady is ever the, true child ,and the true mother. Her spirit, '!meek and strong, zealous and prudent, humble and courageous, pure and fruitful," imparts to us our own proper measure of both these roles. When we have reverently analyzed ~and appreciated the doctrines of spiritual childhood and spiritual motherhood, we may be allowed to accommodate an angel's words as our simple directive,. "Take the Child and His mother." Thus, sincere, day to day imitatio'n of Our Blessed Mother. gradually becomes our meaningful response to an ever more imRerative invitation. We then find that we have tended to integrate in our spiritual .life the two ways'of which Mary, our model, is the gracious synthesis. Reverend Fathers: I agree with Sr. Ma~y Jude', 0.P., in her articl~, "The Summa for Sisters" (March, 1953), that a study of the works of St. Thomas would help our Sisters become better religious and better teachers However, I do not agree with Sister regarding "the distinctive phe-nomenon of the active orders today." Professed religious who are seeking admission to contemplative orders are a growing concern of the Church, but they are not a phe-nomenon. They are the logical result of the transition that has been taking place within active orders. Truly "their final profession is far enough behind," but a glance at those former days may illuminate the darkness, mistrust, and mis-understanding that surrounds them. When ~hey entered religious life the goal was one--it was clear-cut, that is, perfection which would I, mean intimate union with God. During their novitiate and perhaps I' for the first ten years of their religious life their concentrated all their it efforts to attain this end. Then stress was not on education, nursing, i! or Catholic Action, but on the presence of God and the pursuit of I virtue; however, because of pressure from without, the change of l 188 duly, 1953 COMMUNICATIONS standards, and the requirements by the St'ate, professional knowledge, ability, and skill became a necessity. Therefore. higher education with Saturday and weekday classes was added to teaching, plus parent-teacher m~etings, sodalities, public relation groups, discussion clubs and first~id courses. These religious lack neither intelligence nor good will. They readily admit with St. Thomas the greatness of the charity of the apostolate. Theylive, for the most part, lives of self-renunciation and sacrific6. Other,wise they would not be seeking admission to the cloister.- Nor are they seeking only the joys of contemplation. Most of them would gladly spend themselves and be spent in the apostdlate if they could still be c~rtain that their union with God was increasing not decreasing. But the signs point in the opposite direction. Let us look at one of these Sisters of fifteen y~ars ago. Today, instead of the one goal of 'union with God, she has another, that of professional competence. What has happened to her.as a result? First, the intensity of her desires and her efforts in the spir~itual life has naturally been weakened by her concentration on her work. Second!y, the virtues of the interior life, silence, and recollection do not have the opportunity for development they had in fdrmer days. Distractions in one form or another and activity hinder their growth. Thirdly, the virtues of the hiddefi life have become watery. They lack the positive yirility that so characterizes interior souls. She is in the world and does not wish to be of the world, yet its spirit of ac-tivity and distraction are now hers. ~ Viewing these results, she finds a growing conviction that her. spiritual life is deprived of the degree of vitality that once was hers and thai the culprit is activity. From this conviction flows the fear that her work and its accessories are separating her from Christ. It is not the fear of a neurotic; it is a well:founded fear that demands recognition and attention. No zealous religious desires to go to heaven alone; no thinking religious denies the value of the apostolic life,, but there is much ac-tivity in the life of the religious today that could not conceivably be put in the category of Apostolic. Those who strive to unite prayer and action as St. Paul and St. Thomas, St. Catherine and St, Teresa of Avila did, find they fall short of the ideal, in fact they fail. Tl~is is not just subjective thinking. It can be proven without much spiritual examination. As in nations, so in groups, and so with the individual, the pe- 189 COMMUNICATIONS ~" riod of adjustment is 'fraught with dangers. These must not be spurned. They should be recognized and analyzed. It is the chal- . lenge of our age. , The desire for contemplation is rapidly growing in America, not o~ly.in orders of women but also among men. We have a Father Moore, a Father Raymond, and a Father Merton, to name only a few outstanding ones, to prove this. Not only is contemplation sought by' religious in active orders, but so many young, eager Americans have sought admission to the Trappist Monastery in Kentucky that they .have had to build five new foundations in a short time, The Carthusians, stiil in their infancy in America, have a waiting list. All. this is significant. ¯ Would Sr. Mary Jude say all these people were exceptions, or that they lack the ability to find the delicate balance between prayer and work. I doubt it. Looking at it from this' broader .point of view, we see that this cbndition of which~ Sister M, Jude speaks i~ only a branch of a much larger river that is sweeping America from coast to coast. If we wish to insure the vitality and growth of our active orders, we must see that. the desire for intimate union 'with Christ is given outlets and opportunities for development, .even if it means the curtailment of many activities. We can do without the latter, but without the for-mer all action is but sounding brass and tinklilag cymbals. --A SYMPATHIZER. "BLESSED BE HER GLORIOUS ASSUMPTION" .On December 23, 1952, Our Holy Father, Pope Pius XII, decreed that the in-vocation printed above is.to be added, to'the Divine Praises whenever they are re-cited after Mass or'after Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.' In the official publi-cation of this decree, which appeared in the Acti~ Apostolica Sed~'s under date of March 21, 1953, vol. 45, p. 194, it was stated that this new invocation should be inserted after the invocation "!Blessed be~ th~ Name of Mary Virgin and Mother." However, L'Osseroatore Romano for April 9 contained a correction, issued by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on Apr!l 8, to the effect that it should be inserted im-mediately after the other invocation: ',',Blessed be her Holy and Immaculate C.oncep, tion." ,. The ob'.i~ati0n of inserting this new. invocation into the Divine Praises begins on dune 21, 1953, that date being three months from the date of the ACtu Apos-tolicae Sedis in which the decree appeared, in conformity with canon 9 of the Code of Canon Law. We take this occasion to remind our readers that on Oc~0ber 31-, 1950, in con-nection with the formal definition, Pope Pius XII decreed that the invocation Queen assumed into f-leaven should be added to the Litany of Loretto after the ~'oCation "Queen conceived without original :sin." At the same time he also up-, proved a new Mass which is to replace the Mass formerly said on the Feast of the Assumption. 190 I Spiri :ual Progress and Regress Charles A. Nash, S.J. AN IDEA as old as St, Augustine, and. rebbrn in Rodriguez, pic-tures the spiritual life "as a ,b~all of string you are carefully winding up. IL once you drop it, it readily unwinds, and it takes a long time and much effort to .wind it up again. This same idea, on a natural plane, permeates the business day of six thousand psychiatrists in the United States who have become profoundly, interested in what happens once the ball of life is dropped and starts to unwind. Their technical name for it is regression or the reversal of t~ae normal steps Of growth. Regression is of such paramount im-portance in psychiatry that it is often .defined as "the science of re-gressive phenomena." The aim of this article is to picture regression in the spiritual life and.to use psychiatric data in order to empha.size certain psychological factbrs that underlie spiritual progress. " Because it is their.daily, business, psychiatrists today are fast be-coming experts in the delicate art of character change or the forward step to maturity, As modern scientific.innovators in an ancient field. these medical specialists have made many valuable scientific investi-gations and acquired much practical experience in the last twenty-five years. Religious ark wise to profit by some of their ideas on regress and pr,og~ess toward maturity 'which have a direct practical bearing on the religiou~ life. Like the psychiatrist, a religious, too, practices daily the delicate art of character change, but be aims at a greater spiritual maturity. The forward progress at which a psy-chiatrist aims in treating his patient strikes a close parallel to the for-ward progress of a religious in the spiritual life. Both involve a gradual change of character. Psychiatrists must know character change in two directions, both Zegre~s and progress. The classic exampl,e of regression or unwinding in human life is old age. We are often a casual witness when time, by its slow process, lays its fingeron a man. We have watched elderly PerSons gradually drop things most cherished in !ife, one by one. first a man b~gins to lose the wide ifiterests he once had. Sports no longer interest him; he stops traveling is much as he used to; his friendships narrow dow.n; interest in his daily, work begins to lag. All gradually culminate in his retirement.1 If he.k~eps his mind open '~Leland El Hinsie?Concepts and Problems of Ps~ychotherapg, p. 124: Understand-able Psgchiatrg, chapter on "Regression." * 191 ¯ CHARLES A. NA~H Reoietu for Religious and pliant and is ready to welcome whatever the future may bring, the elderly pers.on often mqves gracefully through his last years. Often enough, however, his mind closes up and he loses track of the day and the hour. He becomes hostile to what is new, to change, to innovation, closing off hislmind to the future. In the ,course of time he may become self-centered and petulant, and fall back upon the 'manners of his childhood, then of his infancy. He may have to be bathed, fed, dressed, assisted in walking. For him it is a haven of repose, a citadel of safety. He has reverted to his "second child-hood" and regressed to the activities of an infant. Besides the com-plete unwinding of habits of maturity in "second childhood," there are many pictures of partially unwound habits which are but-smaller portraits on a much reduced scale. Unwinding Spiritual Life Complete spiritual regression can be 'seen in-the nominal of "fallen-away" Catholic of any age who knows his religion but drops. its practice entirely. The unwinding spiritual, life runs down a path more or_ less parallel to "old age and ~econd childhood." The ¯"fallen-away" .Catholic's practical interest in religion slowly wanes, and he gradually closes off his mind to religion, becoming spiritually self-centered. One by one he drops the religious practices he once cher-ished. -Sunday is like any other day; the churchdoor remains ever .i:los~d. He stops going to Mass; he falls away from the Sacraments: his prayer life diminishes to a minimum or none at all. Gradually, his acquired spiritual habits Unwind until he is back to "childhood," where spiritual obligations and.moral responsibilities are at a mini-mum. He has traded away God for careless, vacant ioaming. As far as religion is concerned, he is once' again like a small boy, sans reason and his seventh birthday. Instead of progressing to an ever greater possession of God, he has gone backwards. Here, too, miniature por-traits of regression are quite common in the spiritual life where a spiritual habit or two may start to unwind. Progress and regress follow definite patterns. .One is a dynamic, forward-moving pattern toward maturity; the other moves back-ward down the path a man has come up, Life experience normally present~ the picture of a continuum of, forward growth along a life-line which falls into natural periods: birth, childhood,, adolescence, young manhood, adulthood, change of life, and decline. It is the common lot of mortal man to :crown his numberless daily experi- 192 Jul~j, 1953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ences with.an ever greater maturity. This growing maturity is dearly won through countless small successes. In sharp contrast, the re-gression pattern, at any age and at any level of development, is a're-versal of the' normal steps of growth along', this life-line. Read the life-line forward and you have progress; read it backward and you have regression. Psychiatrists'~tell us that every man takes a backward step now and then. No one, save Christ our Lord and His Blessed Mother, is co,mple.te master of his every action. For religious, the single back-ward step may occur in problems of obedience,' the daily order, pov-erty, t~he practice of virtue, the daily rosary, spiritual reading--to name but a few possibilities. The single backward step is not. so significant. When this backward step becomes a definite pattern, then real spiritual regression is beginning. But despite" occasional backward steps, psychiatrists say the nor-real person is about ninety per cent adjusted to life.~ About ten per "cent of life he cannot quite master and he dodges it in one way or another. In other words, man's daily batting average is about .900; the ratio of small successes in life to small failures is about ninety to ten. Whether saint or sinner, some failure pursues him every day, but success (forward progress) definitely predominates in his actions. Dgnamic Equilibrium Because he is fundamentally successful but always carries some failure in tow, the average person strikes a balance with life. He reacts in terms of an equilibrium--a dynamic, forward-moving equilibrium in which progressive factors predominate, ,but regressive ones are also present. This equilibrium ,is built into the very struc-ture of his mind through the years. It is his own practical system of reacting to life, his working method of dealing with experience de-rived ,from his past.psychological history. Psychiatrists have learned~ to investigate this equilibrium scientifically and now actually measure it,.with~scientific formulas,a When it breaks down, regression begins. If it does not break down, progress continues. ~This figure refers to the over-all or.comprehensive picture of all man's actions in meeting life. Personal success in one particular action, however, may vary from mastery, to littleor no control. Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Pay-. chotherapt./, p. 77. Edward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Ps~/chiatr~/, graph on p. 231, 3E~lward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Psv. chiatr~t, p. 51. Franz Alexander and H~len Ross, Dgnamic Psgchiatrg, p. 140. CHARLES A. NASH Reoieto for Religious This dynamic equilibrium produces manifold effects. It gives an even tenor to, man's ways and stability to his character. It embeds past success in the human system for'future successful operation. As a result, whatever a man does in his normal day leaves most of his old order standing. A singld act, forward or backward, leaves most of his autobiography of character largely unchanged. Occasional back-ward steps are readily tolerated and absorbed without throwing the forward motion offstride. Because of it, a major change of character. occurs slowly. A spiritual character change requires many actions over a considerable period of time. In many aspects of life this equilibrium acts as a shock-absorber, an internal ,resistance built right into the structure of personality for resisting the "blows of outrageous foitune." For instance, a death in the family may score a temporary psychological and emotional knockout in other members of the family~. But soon the pendulum swings back to normal and old habits take over once again. Gradu-ally, the appreciation of life built up through the years prevails, and life goes forward once more. Because of his equilibrium, a man does not deteriorate psychologically at one major blow, nor can ,he turn himself'inside out, for better or worse, overnight. Role o~ Failure After much failure or long-enduring stress, this same personal balance or equiliblium can wear thin or even "break down." When this occurs, the backward pattern of regression slowly begins. Then, a religious falls back upon lower and lower levels of his spiritual life, and becomes beset by earlier and earlier habits of his career. The first failure is easy to take, but not a series of them. Failtire is hard on morale, and daily failure has a numbing effect on our effort. The effect of failure is to close off the mind to the difficulty and 0fall back upon.earlier habits. After repeated failure, for instance, a religious may gradually close off his mind to formal mental prayer, and fall back upon his earlier habits when mental prayer was not part of the daily schedule. All spiritual regression has one point in common: it is a back-ward step to an earlier and easiei adjustment to the difficulties of the spiritual life. At the, same time, unfortunately, spiritual progress either slows down or stops. Part of the goal drops out of the picture "for the present," and there is a partial farewell to hopes of greater things. Instead of the "new man in Cl~rist," it is a return to the 194 PROGRESS AND REGRESS "old man" of self when spiritually less mature. The significance of regression in the spiritual life is that it sounds the knell of forward progress. Continued progress requires that a religious take failure~ in stride. Often small successes in life become so integrated into a religious per-sonality that they almost go unnoticed. We only see and take note of our failures, and they can come to loom large on the daily hori-zon. After repeated failure, therd is danger that a religious will close his mind and chart his future course by past failure. The true measure of the future, bower(r, is past success. There is no small touch of humility and wisdom in expecting some daily failure and not charting our future course by it. Man normally moves forward in a dynamic equilibrium with a ninety per-cent rate of success. American Stgiritualitg The pace or tempo of character chahge is a slow one. Being' American-minded, we naturally expe.~t rapid results. The very at- . mosphere of our times--an era of modern machine .efficiency, high- 13ressure business methods, production miracles, and high-speed travel--promotes an ingrained bent toward immediate success. Rightly' or wrongly, we feel there should be a twentieth-century ¯ masterkey to the spiritual life, a foolproof device as dependable ?s the multiplication table. Yet strangely enough, our spiritual life seems to move at the tempo of the first centuiy in a twentieth-century World. True character change may be hard to see. We Americans see the, entrancing picture of industrial production, but we look upon spiritual progress in our own lives as a vague or blank picture. Sanc-tifying grace and internal actual grace are both intangible and invis-ible. We sow the representative crops, the seeds of humility, love of God, obedience, and the other virtues, yet always wonder2--when's the harvest? To see results, we often make one good resolution suc-ceed another in rapid succession, turning our spiritual life into a series of short-term cycles, partly for variety, partly to convince ourselves that we are getting somewhere and making progress. But after six months of short-term cycles we are ready to doubt whether we are changed an iota. That old spiritual problem which we settled once, and for all two weeks ago somehow surges back to life again today. A series of .these experiences can readily warp ore: spiritual judgment or ~lgrudence and lead to loss of effort and discouragement. Then 195 CHARLES A. NASH Review for Religious failure charts our course. Being constitutiOnall~y successful, we shift our effort to some more promising line of_ endeavor, and the spirit of' spiritual progress becomes like a ghost on the outermost rim of the real business of daily living. 200-300 Hours Psychiatrists have much this same time-problem. How much time is required to make a permanent change in a patient's character~ How long to turn a man around and start him forward again on the life-line to maturity? A considerable body of evidence indicates that it takes two hundred to three hundred hours, roughly speaking; to make a permanent character change.4 This means one hour a day, seven days a week for about nine months devoted to making the change, whate;cer that change may be. No matter how un-American it may sound, there seems to be normally no substitute for time in a 'permanent character change. Even if our minds thunder and rever-berate in syllogisms, it still takes from two to three hundred hours to drive' the lesson home permanently and to relate it in experience to the concrete parts of life. A religious may profitably add a bit of timing to his spiritual motor; Permanent growth is not like reading through a spiritual book in three or four days ~nd expecting the result; it is more l,!ke the slow, nine-months' nurturing of the child in the mother's womb. It is not the work of a day or a week, but it finds a closer parallel in the one hour a day for nine months thata student devotes, say, to mathe-matics ~r history or language in school. Putting on a facet of Christ's personality is not done in one meditation; it slowly develops like the b.aby slowly developing back and neck muscles, balancin'g on his feet at six months, and finally learning to walk near the end of a year. Permanent character change, is more in the image of St.,Peter and the Apostles learning confidence in Christ over a period of several years, and still being a bit shaky at His death when confronted with actual life experience. But worth noting is the ever-recurring fact of suc-cess. After nine months in the womb the baby actually is born; a year later he walks; in nine months the student knows his history, mathematics, and language. In time the Apostles did attain cona-dence in Christ. Actual success is the constant experience of the hu-man race if timk and energy are dev6ted to the task. 4Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Psychotherapy, 11-12. 169. John Knight, S~o'ry oI My Psychoanalysis, 2-3. 196 155, 166- Ju~,~, ! 953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ¥~rhat l~appens in two or three hundred hours? In that time our perso.nal equilibrium changes. Through ~ur mind and emotions there slowly winds a new track of virtue all its own. Character change invoIyes a rather thoroughgoing shift in our habitual reaction to life. It requires a new appreciation of life as a permanent part of the m~nd, a' new emotional pattern, a new reaction to a vast number of concrete situations. Suppose, for example, a close friend dies with whom you have associated night and day for ten years. In all the old situations which constantly remind you of this lost friend you m~lst make clear to yourself that you have this friend no longer, and that a renunciation is necessary. He is Vividly represented {n many personal memories and experiences. You will have to correct your reactions for many a day, and detachment must t~ke place separately in each instance. Similarly in character chan, ge. "The single action, the passing thought hardly dents the human system: it remains more like a feeble echo in the soul. A single action leaves one's equilibr!uin for meeting life largely unchanged. In two or three hundred" hours, however, the new reaction "works through" and permeates our mind and our thinking~ In that time it develops its own emotional pat-tern and becomes permanently related in experience to most of the concrete parts of life. Factors in Adult Progress As adults, we tend to sell human nature short. We frequently forget what a long way we have come since childhood, the countless number of small successes involved in our present degree of maturity. Starting out as a helpless babe, man slowly learns t6 walk, to speak, to run, to master language, to enjoy countless new experiences,, to cope with school life, to earn a living, to marry and support a fam-ily. Any one of thesehas practical difficulties of time and energy and personal ability somewhat like those in the spiritual life: Yet by the common experience of mankind, their attainment ih practically cer-~ rain if sufficient time and energy is devoted to the task. As adults we tend to forget the countless milestones we have already passed, and even come to expect no new milestones in the future. Often as adults we cut down on spiritual time and energy, and act in the practical order as if religious experience had been exhausted. If a religious tries to compress thirty hours int6 twenty-four, it is inevitable that he will have to scalp time from his spiritual life to ac-complish this feat. In this regard it would seem that all of us are endowed with a certain native shrewdness of the horse-trading vari- 197 CHARLES A. NASH ety. But little time means little progress. Sometimes we run our spiritual life like a carburetor with too thin a mixture of energy to operate the machine. Life's fast teinpo drains away energy. The more our limited daily energy is channeled to other things, the less remains available for character change or spiritual growth. ~ If there is no time and energy, there is no progress. As we grow older, our ideas of spiritual experience tend to become mote and more .rigid. Spiritual progress is difficult in a rigid mind, like mov, ement in a. straitjacket. Progress demands an open and pliant mifid with the door ever open to wider spiritual experience. Often in order to pro-gress we first have to unstiffen our spiritual ideas and keep them lim-ber. Age is not a true limit to spiritual growth. Remai'ning ever an experiencing being, man normally moves ever forward irma dynamic equilibrium toward an ever greater maturity in God. If the human mind closes to the future, it falls back upon the past. Not age but the man himself puts a stop to progress, by refusing new spiritual ex-perience. The Divine Plan Time, energy, and an open mind docile to the Holy Spirit fit into God's design for human experience on earth. In His divine plan as the Creator of human nature and every human experience, God has an eminently skilful regard for bo~h the strength and the weakness of the earthly pilgrim in his slow daily progress. He assists the slo~v, three-hundred-hour pace by the superior motivation of divine reve-lation, by countless actual graces, by the supernatural virtues of faith, hope, and charity. When only a miracle can be substituted for time, when our very best efforts are always attended by some failure, we catch no small glimmer of the "divinity that shape~ our ends" in the gift of-the three theological virtues. For without hope progress stops; without faith the path grows dim: without love the heart grows faint along the way. But in God's design for religious ex-perience ,the pilgrim is fortified by God Himself. Faith illumines our mind along the road to God; hop~ keeps effort alive and the goal be-fore our eyes; and love is even now a participation of the goal itself while progressing along the way: Divine assistanc~ and a ready w~l-come ever await the pilgrim at every step of his journey. "Come to Me all you that'labor and are heavily burdened and I will refresh you." The lq.ng-run trend of spiritual growth, in God's design, is a quickening triumphal march. ~ 198 The Unseen World Jerom~ Breunig, S.J. THE telescope and microscope have extended our horizons im- | measurably. They have opened up unseen worlds for us. "How mean is earth when I look to heaven," said St. Ignatius one night in Rome more than 400 years ago. Hbw much more mean-ingful this remark is today when the giant eye at Mt. Palomar, California, a 200 inch telescope, helps us penetrate into the sky to the staggering limits of more than one billion light years" and reveals millions of suns like our own moving at the incredible .speed of 500,000 miles, per hour. .~Apart from the findings of the great ob-servatories, even a good telescope on a clear night can reveal wonders hidden to the eye. We can see the pock marks that craters ma~ke on our next ~lo~r neighbor, the moon, which is a scant 238,000 miles fr6m our planet. We. can see the nine moons that cluster about Jupiter, the'ring of light about Saturn, as well as the fiery masses said to be billions of stars. ~The inicroscope opens another unseen world. To the unaided eye what is on the glass slide lo6ks like'a drop of water. Under the microscope we see many protozoa of all kinds. We can see scores of little slipper-shaped animals called paramecia caromin~ about in the water. Perhaps a sluggish, slow-moving amoeba can be sighted or a green euglena of the mastigophora (whip-bearing) family, propel-ling itself by its whiplike tail. After human vision gtopped, the zo-ologist has pushe,d on with his microscdpe to discover 30,000 kinds of protozoa in an unseen world. But there is another world still more 'marvelous and far more important than the worlds that the magnifying glass reveals. It is the unseen world of spiritual realities. Higher visual aid is required to penetrate far into this invisible but real world. We are blind and helpless without the eyes of faith. St. Paul speaks right to the point. "What is faith? It is that which'gives substance to our hopes, which convinces, us of things we cannot see." What are some of the realities in this unseen world? What are some of the "things we cannot see" except with the eyes of fai'th? No one has ever seen a soul at the moment God created it,'when it.left the body, or at any other time. Nor has anyone seen the re-birth of a soul at Baptism when the higher life of grace is infused and the human clay is made immortal diamond, when the bap'tized 199 ,In I JEROME BREUNIG Reoieto for Religious is made a son of God and heir of heaven, when the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity come and make their home in the soul, trans-forming it into a temple of God. "Blessed are those who have not .seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we cannot see. No one has seen a soul red as scarlet washed whiter than snow by the absolution of a priest. Nor has anyone seen the bread of heaven restoring the waning strength of the soul. No one has seen the inexpressible joy of the elect in the mansion,s of heaven, the chastening anguish of the souls in the prison of purgatory, or the black despair of the damned 'in hell. "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we can-not see. Opposition of the Sense-World It is essential to salvation to stay aware of the unseen world but it is not easy. We live in a world of sense. Our very mode of learning is rboted in sense impressions. There is nothing in the mind / that was not first in the senses. Even faith comes by hearing. Our convictions about what we cannot see are constantly being challenged by things we can see. It is a losing battle, naturally. For instance, we will ordinarily be more vividly impressed by paging through a national picture magazine for a few minutes than we will by reading the Imitation of Christ for the same length of time. Unless we con, stan.tly cultivate supra-sensible reality by reading, reflection, and prayer, we will not be able to offset the ever-present attraction of the sensible. We.are also at the m'ercy of our less immediate environment. We are influenced by what we see, hear, feel; and much of this is secular. It is not informed with respect for the sacred unseen realities. There are also abundant examples of godlessness. To claim there are no atheists in foxholes, on the operating tables in our hospitals, among the alumni of our schools; Or ("there but for the grace of God go I") among ex-religious is to close one's eyes to the facts. The lack of respect for God's creative co-operation in h.uman generation is widespread and appalling. There are hardened, blinded men who look on death like the fallen-away who "assured" the hos-pital chaplain: "If I die on the operating table, there will not b'e any-one to take me away." Many non-believers patronize our "naivete" in accepting the sacramental system. A Catholic mayor was openly ridiculed in the public press: "How can he be fit to manage the city goverttment when he is foolish enough to believe a little wafer is his 200 duly, 1953 THE UNSEEN WORLD God." Communists use brutal methods.to eradicate, "to wash away," a sense of the supernatural, but secularism has a smooth ap-proach that sometimes is even more effective in uprooting faith, hope, and charity. The recent ~u.rvey of religion in the United States has produced some startlin~ data. The first report that 99% of the people be-lieved in the existence of G~od was heartening, but the subsequent studies revealed the shallowness of much of this belief. Thd eighth" of the series, "What Americans Think of Heaven and Hell," reported the following statistics in the March number of the Catholic Digest. "Do you think there is any real possibility of your going to.hell? Yes, answered .I 2 %; No, 29 % : Don't know, 17 %; Do not beh.eve in hell, 42 %." In other words, 88 % of those questioned were not greatly concerned with .a truth that Christ underlined clearly, in His teaching. And this is the. environment, through the press, radio, television(?), and a thousand other contacts, we live in. The un-seen world of faith has competition. Witnesses to the Unseen The greatest Witness to the reality of the unseen world was" Christ, God2s Son, who clothed Himself with flesh and blood, a true human nature, worked miracl~s, and founded a ,visible Church to bear witness to the invisible grandeur of divine realities. He invites religious in a special way to continue to bear witness. He has invited them to prove the eternal value of.a better world to a money-mingled, sex-sick, rugged-individual generation by being poor, chaste, and obedieht as He was in the wor'ld. "But if religious are not inhabi-tants of this unseen world they will never impart the irresistible con-viction that the unseen world exists." The recent communication from a Poor Clare (REVIEW, No-vember~ 1952, 312-14) contained the eloquent witness to the un-seen world that is afforded by contemplatives. "There is an unseen world which to her (a Poor Clare) is very real. The incidents of daily lilt'are mere accidentals which are of value so far as they pur-chase for her more perfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can reach out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers prayer. I am speaking of prayer,mnot prayers," Until the unseen world is as real to us as the things we can reach out and touch, we will not convey the conviction so badly needed. 201 C. A. HERBST Reuieto for Religious, There is on~ way to make this world that real. It is by living in it. I remember a retreat master's remark on tills point. "You have to have darkness to find a picture on the sensitive plate, and you ha~e to have prayer to bring out the invisible presence of God." Again, it is ' prayer and not prayers that will enable us to live the convictions of our faith. Chari!:y C. A. Herbst, S.J. W~HEN a learned man among the Jews asked Our Lord: "Which is the great commandment in the law?" Christ answered: "Thou shalt love the' Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, andwith thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment." (Mt. 22: 37, 38). This was not new with Christ. It is the burden not only of the New but als0 of the Old Testament. written, as St. Paul says, "with the Spirit 6f the living God.in the fleshly tables of the heart" (II Cot. 3:3). The theological virtues are the greatest of all the virtues. Thdre are three of them: faith, hope, and charity. "And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three." Of these three, love of God' for His own sake is the queen: "But the greatest of these is charity" (I Cot. 13:13). Its object is God Himself, and our motive for loving Him,. too, is His own dear Self, "because Thou are all good and worthy of all love." "I call charity that virtue which moves the soul to love God 'for His own sake and oneself and the neighbor for God's ~ake," said St. Augustine. Charity makes all the virtues live. It is the soul even of faith, without which it is impossible to please God. "The life. of the body is the soul. By it the body moves and feels. Even so the life of faith is charity, because it works through charity, as you read in the Apostle: 'faith that worketh by charity' (Gal. 5:6). When charity grows cold, f~ith dies, just as the body does when the soul leaves it." (St. Bernard, Serrn. "2 In Resurr.) "O my God, ,I love Thee above all things." How can I truth-fully say this when I prove many times every day by committing venial sins that I love even tiny creatures more than I love God? Or why is it that I do not cry for love of God wheaa I lqse Him by mor-tal sin but I do cry when I lose my mother by death? Although ¯ 202 drain, 1953 CHARITY these actions seem to be contradicting my words "0 my God, I love Thee above all things," they, really do not. I can weep over my mother's death and commit venial sins and" still love God objectively above all things. That is, I can, and do, go on sincerely and earnest-ly wishing Him the l~reatest good, .that He will continue to be the supreme object of all love and receive divine honors. I can commit venial sins and weep over temporal ld~s and still love God above all things appreciative4 , too. by preferring God with an efficacious will to all created things, by esteeming Him as thehighest good. I can so value and esteem Him ak to be r~eady to lose all else rather than abandon God. We canndt recall too often that true love is in the will, not in the fe~!ings or ~motions. A mother's instinctive and spontaneous feelings and enfotions may draw her to love her child more ir~rensel~, with greater ease, tenderness, and alacrity, than she does God, yet she is ~eady to lose her child rather than offend God seriously. Her love for God is greater and deeper, and influences her soul more p[ofoundly. She loves God objectively and appreciatively more, and intensively and emotionally less. Thihgs of sense appeal more directly and affec-tively than spiritual things do. That in the supreme test, love for God is greater and stronger than any natural love is wonderfully shown in the death of St. Perpetua, martyr. "Neither the tears and oft-repeated prayers of her. aged father, nor the mother-love for the baby boy at her breast, nor the ferocity of her tormentors could move Perpetua from her faith in 3esus Christ." This is brought out, too. by the incidents in the daily lives of the "little people" in Christ's Church' in this living present, so well presented by Father Trese. " 'We've a good pastor,' my.people say --and I am ashamed. Ashamed as I stand beside Katie Connelly at the bed of her just-dead son, and hear her say, 'It's God's will. isn't it, Father?' while she clutches my. hand. Ashamed as I stand beside Ed Fetter at his wife's bier, and hear him say, with three little tykes hanging to his pants-legs, 'If this is what God wants,, we've got to take it, Father.' Ashamed as I ride with the Martins to the Stat~ Hospital where they are taking their son, and hear the mother say, as she bites her lip, 'Well, we've all got to have our cross, Father.' " (Leo Tress, Vessel of Clapt, 24.) Love has various degrees. - In the love of concupiscence there is something of self. I love another because I will get something out of it for myself. This is love of God for my own sake, with selfishness, 203 C. A. HERBST but a very good selfishness. This is the great virtue of hope. Then there is the love of complacency, in which I am glad and rejoice, take pleasure in, another's good, just~ because it ishis good. By it I re-joice in ~the divine perfections~ "Thus approving the good which we see in God, and rejoicing in it, we make the act of l~ve which is called complace-ncy; for we please ourselves in the divine pleasure infinitely more than in our own,' (St. Francis de Sales, Looe of God, V, i). A third and higher'degree of love is~ the love of benevolence, By it we wish another well, want good to come to him. This love we express in the Our Father when we pray: "Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom ~ome, Thy will be done!" Love consists more in deeds than in words. "If you love me, keep my commandments," Our Lord said (John 14: 15). Every-body knows that "talk is che~p,'° but actions filled with love are purest gold. A fine expression of love is a gift. That is why we give gifts on birthdays and on other joyous occasions. Gifts are the language of love. This is shown most strikingly at Christmas time. It is ~ the . feast of giving, of the Gift. Men give then because God taught them to show love that way. He gave the first Christmas Gift by giving Jesus Christ, His son. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son" (John 3:16). That was Bethlehem. That was Calvary, too. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son." The .lesson ChriSt taught from the crib and from the cross is the same lesson; love in deed, in giving. The soul that loves God cannot miss that. It is convinced that love consists in a mutual exchange of gifts. "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for cnrlst. The answer leaps forth: "Take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding~ and my whole will." One gives oneself whole and entire. We cannot do more. But we can do it more solemnly and more specifically, and we have. Religious surrender to God the goods of the world by the vow of poverty. They surrender to .God the goods of the body and of family, life by the vow of chastity. They surrender to God the goods of the soul, especially that most precious thing, their will, by ~he vow of obedience. "Almighty and Eternal God, I vow to Thee perpetual poverty: chastity, and obedience." This is our answer to the divine challenge: "Thou shalt love'the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy .whole soul, and with all thy strength, and wi'th all thy mind . This do, and thou shalt live." 204 The Moral Code Cat:holic I-lospit:als Gerald Kelly, S.J. SOME years ago there was a colorful basketball official who used to delight (and sometime~ enrage) spectators by his dramatic way of telling players, "You can't do that[" Again and again his whistle would be heard and he would be seen speeding across the floor, an accusing finger' pointed at some offending player, as his piercing voice insisted," "You can't do that!" ¯ For all too many people, I fear, this officialmminus his pleasing dramatics--might represent the Catholic hospital and its moral code. Engraven in the minds of these people is the picture Of a devoted non- Catholic physician bending over his patient in the operating or de-livery room, yearning to do something to save the patient's life, but frustrated in this salutary design by the Church, which, through the Sister superior or supervisor or chaplain, raises its restraining hand 'and says unsympathetically, "You can't do that!" Certainly much of the publicity given to v~arious events that take place in our hos-pitals caters to this impression. For example, a few years ago, in Brownsville, Texas, a physician who had sterilized a woman in defiance of the hospital code was dis-missed from the staff. The incident received nation-wide publicity in the daily'papers; and the correspondent of one widely-read weekly devoted to it considerable space and ev?n more emotion. The Sisters of Mercy had closed the doors of mercy to the doctor whose only purpose was mercy~ Follow-up letters from doctors, including one from the vice-chief'-of-staff of their hospital, favored the Sisters and showed little sympathy for the expelled physician. Other letters, however, showed marked sympathy for the doctor and for his emo-tional reporter. One letter in particular expressed great !mpatience with this.Church which insists on projecting the taboos .(a favorite epithet for commandments, divine and human) of the Dark Ages into the twentieth-century operating and delivery rooms. In this and similar incidents We have examples of the old prob-lem of misunderstanding.' The critics usually do not understand our hospital code. Even Catholics, I think, seldom realize what goes into a code. In fact, many seem to have the impression that a Cath- 205 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious olic hospital moral code consists in ond supreme principle (which, incidentally, is "best-seller" nonsense at its best) that mothers must die fortheir babies. These people ought ko have more accurate in-formation, and it seems logical that they might expect to get it from religious because the Catholic hospital, is one of the most distinctive and extensive achievements of our religious institutes. The following paragraphs p~ovide at least the minimum essentials for giving correct information. ~ Why a Code? Since.the administrators of Catholic hospitals are men and women whose lives are consecrated to God, they can conscientiously conduct these hospitals only when they have a reasonable assurance that the law of God will be observed in the treatment of the sick. One way of obtaining this assurance is to formulate the pertinent moral prin-ciples and their applications into a code and to have the staff-members guarantee that they will observe this code. The first reason for having a code, therefore, is to satisfy the conscience of the admin-istrators. This is aptly stated in the introduction to the present code of the Catholic Hospital Association: "Catholic hospitals exist to render medical and spiritual care to the sick. The .patient adequately considered, and inclusive of his spiritual status and his claim to the helps of the Catholic religion, is the primary concern of those entrusted with the management of Catholic hospitals. Trustees and administrators of Catholic hos-pitals understand this responsibility tbwards each patient whom they accept, to be seriously binding in conscience. "A partial statement of this basic obligation is contained in the present Code of Ethical and Religious Directives. All who associate themselves with a Catholic hospital, and particularly the members of the medical and nursing staffs, must understand the moral and reli-gious obligations binding on those responsible for the management and operation of the hospital, and must realize that they are allowed to perform only such acts and to carry out only such procedures as will enable the owners and administrators to fulfill their obligations." What was .lust said might be construed as meaning that the sole or primary purpose for having a moral code is to protect administra-tor~ against doctors who might perform illicit opera.tions in their hospitals. This" is not true. Generally speaking, doctors and nurses, both Catholic and to a large extent the non-Catholics, want clear 206 July, 1953 ~ HOSPITAL CODE guidance in the ethical problems of their profession. And they want it because they are conscious of a need. As members of a. profession ithat deals constantly with life and death, with mutilation of the hu-man body, with expensive and sometimes dangerous remedies, they are faced again and again With acute ethical problems. Yet large numbers of them, even among tl~e Catholics, have never had the op-portunity of taking~a course in medical ethics. Others who have had such a course have grown "rusty" and need some convenient way of refreshing their memories. For all of these a moral code, which con-tains concisely-stated principles and practical applications to the field of medicine, satisfies a definite need. Making a Code What have our Catholi~ hospitals done to provide the needed guidance through a moral code? For many years the hospitals of the United States and Canada used a very brief ~ode which was excellent at the time it was formulated but which became more and mor~ in-adequate as the progress of medicine introduced new problems and threw new light on old ones. A new and more complete code was needed, and many dioceses prepared such a cod~ for their own use. It was not until 1947 that work was begun on a revised code for the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada. The work done by the committee on this revised code may be of interest., The committee first made a careful examinationof all the recently-composed diocesan codes, selected what seemed the best material from them. and arranged this material plus their own contributions in a manner that seemed best for handy reference. When this was done, a preliminary draft of a new code was sent for criticism to a large number of doctors and moralists in various parts of the United States and Canada. The doctors consulted included both Catholics and non-Catholics. They were chosen for eminence in their profession and not for ~hei~'religion. These consultants, doctors and moralists;: submitted criticisms some of them. very detailed---of the prelim-inary formula. The criticisms were carefully weighed by the com-mittee and a new formula was drafted. , This was referred again to the original critics; more suggestions were offered; and the code was finally formulated in a manner that met"with universal apprbval. This code was publ!shed in 1949 by the Catholic Hospital Associa-tion of the United States arid Cahada, and it is used today in most o'f the dioceses of these two countries. Some dioceses which had gone~ 207 GERALD KELLY Review [ur Religious to great trouble to prepak-e their own codes still use these in preference to the revised code of the C~tholic Hospital Association. Two observations are in place here in order to ~0revent misunder-standings. First, there is a question pertinent to revising a code: does this mean that morM principles change, or, as some people would put it, does it mean that the Church has changed its moral ~tandards? Obviously, the revision of a hospital code should have no such im-plications. Moral principles do not change: and, from the stand-point of ~principles, the only'reasons for revising an approved code might be to include some principle not beret0fore included, or to ex-press more clearly and simply one of the principles already included. But the application of moral principles to medicine can change be-cause this application depends on the medical facts, which can change with the progress of.science. For example, there was a time when the only way of successfully treating certain infections was' by surgical operation, but tod~ay many of these infections can be arrested by the use of recently-discovered drugs. A fact like this can be the basis for declaring that an operation which was permissible several years ago because necessary for the patient's welfare is no longer permissible. This is but one example of how the application of principles to con-crete cases can change. The revision of a code is largely concerned with these concrete cases. A second observation concerns ~he fact that different codes are fol-lowed in various dioceses. Does this mean that what is morally good in one place is immoral in another? Again the answer is in the nega-tive. The differences in the codes concern neither the moral prin-ciples nor the licitness of specific operations and treatments. They concern rather the selection and arrangement of materi.al, with per-haps the addition of some purely disciplinary regulation .which may be thought necessary in one place but not in another: for example, on the need of consultation before some operation is allowed. Content of Code .: At this point, if not before, someone might well ask just wh~it, is a code, and what goes into it. I can best answer this question by're-ferring specifically to the revised code of the Cat.holic Hospital As-sociation, which is entitled Ethical and Religious .Directives/~or Cath-oti~ Hospitals. As the title implies, this code contains two sections. The second section contains directives of a religious nature which concern the reception and administration of the ~acraments and the 208 dulg, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE reverent disposal of.amputated members and immature babies. For the most part, this sectibn of the code would directly concern only Catholics or those who wish to become Catholics. The first section contains ethical directives, that is, principles of the natural law with applications to medicine. Since the natural law binds all men, the provisions of this section apply to all patients, doctors, nurses, and other hospital personnel, regardless of their religion. This is really the moral code of our hospitals. My subsequent remarks app.ly to this section. Basic Principles The,baslc moral principles which are ~ formulated and applied in ¯ our ethical directive~ can be reduced to these six: (a) the .need of the / patient's consent; (b) the inviolability of innocent human life: the intrinsic.evil 'of contraceptive practices: (d) the principle~.of the "double effect"; (e) the principle of "liberty" and (f) the principle of "totality." Perhaps a few words about each of these principles will .be informative without being unduly soporific. ~) The patient's consent. Each individual human being has bqth ~the right and the duty to care for his health. When a doctor treats a patient, he is simply exercising the patient's own right of self-preservation for him, and he may not perform even legitimate operations without the consent of the patient.,. This Consent may be' given explicitly, as would be the case if an operation would be ex-plained to the patient and he ~would then agree to it. Or it may.be implicit, as would be the case if the patient asl~ed for a cure, with the understanding that he is.willingto Submit to all the necessary pro-ce. dures, even without .explanation. Or it may be reasonabtg pre-sumed, as is the case when a doctor gives emergency treatment to an unconscious man. Sound morality requires consent in one of these forms and l~oth civil law and medical associations recognize ~his. For infants and others who are incapable of acting rationally, the parents or guardians have the right to give the consent., b) The inviolabilitg of innocent human life. The meaning bf this principle is strongly and clearly explained in a memorable pas-sage of our present Holy Father's Allocution on the moral problems of married life (October 29, 195 I). This.passage Should be f~imiliar, not 0nly to religigus in hospital work, but to educators as well. "Now the.child, ~ven the unborn child," said the Pope, "is a hu-man being, a human being in .the same degree and by ~he same title as 209 ,,It GERALD KELLY Review for Religious is its mother. Moreover, every human being, even the child¯ in its mother's womb, receives its right to life directly from God, not frdm its parents, nor from any human society or authority. Therefore there is no man, no human authority, no science, no 'indication,,' whether medical, eugenical, social, economic/or moral, that can show or give a valid juridical title for a deliberate and direct disposing of an innocent human life, that is to say, for an action which aims at its destruction, whether such destruction be intended as an end or as a means towards some other end which may "itself be in no way illicit. So, for example, to save the life of the mother is a most noble end, but the direct killing of the cl~ild as a means to that end is not law-ful. The direct destruction of the 'so-called 'valueless life,' whether born or unborn, which was practised a few years ago in numerous in-stances, can in no way be justified. And therefore when this i~ractice began the Church formally declared that it is contrary to the natural law and to the positive law of God, and consequently" illicit--even under instruction from the public authority to kill those who, al: though innocent, are nevertheless by reason of some physical or-ps3;- chical taint useless to the nation and even become a burden on the ¯ community. The life of an innocent human being is inviolable, .and any direct assault or. attack on it violates one of those fundamental laws without which it is impossible for human beings to live safely in society. We have no need to teach you the particular significance of this fundamental law and its bearing upon your profession. But do not forget it: above any human law, above any 'indication' whatso-ever, there stands the indefectible law¯ of God." The Pope's words are obviously directed against doctbrs and others who think that in certain situations there are good reasons (they call them "indications") for the direct killing of an unborn child. Against these men he defends the right of the child. But he does not limit his words to the child; he defends all innocent human life. The direct (i.e., the intentional) taking of such life is never permissible. Any procedure which'would result in death for either the mother or the child (or for any other innocent person) can be justi-fied only when the death is an unintended and unavoidable by-product of the procedure. Incidentally, this principle of the inviola-bility of human life also condemns the so-called mercy-~killing (the taking of a patient's life to relieve him of suffering), whether it is done with or without the patient's consent. c) The intrinsic evil of contraception. The Church, especially in 210 July, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE the oi~cial t~aching,of the two last Popes, has'constantly branded artificial birth control as contrary to the law of nature, and therefore intrinsically evil. The most ~adical form of this evil is direct steri-lization, which means the intentional destruction of the procreative power. Doctors have many ways of accomplishing this, and all of of them.are forbidden by our code. .d) The principle oF the "'double effect.'" Students of ethics are familiar with this principle and know that it contains the solution to many of the practical,~problems of life. Conscientious people often use it without knowing it exists. The aviator who bombs an im-portant military target, foreseeing but not desiring the deaths of some civilians, is perhaps unwittingly using this principle. The student who must read a treatise on sex, foreseeing but not wanting tempta-tions against chastity, is using perhaps also unwittingly the p~inciple of the double effect. And all of us. whether we realize it or not, are following this same principle when we perform some good and neces-sary action, realizing that, despite our best intentions, certain others will misunderstand and will be'led to rash judgments and to criti-cism. The deaths of the civilians, the sexual temptations, and the harsh thoughts and criticism, are all simply unavoidable and un-wanted by-products of actions that are good in themselves and of sufficient importance to be performed despite the evil effects that at-company them. The principle of the double effect has many applications in medicine, especially as regards surgical operations on diseased repro-ductive organs with the unavoidable destruction of the procreative power and as regards treatment of a pregnant mother with some un-intentional but unavoidable risk either to herself or to her child. This last point was clearly explained by. Pope Plus XII in his Allodution to the "Family Front" (November 26, 1951): "On purpose," he said, "We have always used the expression "direct attempt on the life of an innocent person,' "direct killing.' Be-cause if, for example,-the saving of the life of the future mother, in-dependently of her pregnant state, should urgently require a surgical act or other therapeutic treatment which would~have as an accessory consequence, in no way desired or intended but inevitable, the death of the fetus, such an act could no longer be called a direct attempt on innocent life. Under these conditions the operation can be licit, like other similar medical interventions, granted always that a good of high worth is concerned, such as life, and that it is not possible to 211 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious postpone the operation until after the birth of the child, or to 'have recourse to other efficacious remedies." e) The principle of ."libertt.t." Physicians do. not always see eye-to-eye on the value of certain treatments or operations. For ex-a.~ ple, take the much-discussed and too-much-popularized operation called Idbotomy. Thisoperation consists essentially in severing cer-tain fibers in the brain, and its general purpose seems to be to reduce emotional tension and thus help in the cure of some mental illnesses and in relieving otherwise unbearable pain. The sharpest kind of con-troversy exists among reputable physicians as to the good produced by the operation, the risks it involves, the types of patients that might benefit from it, and so forth. And this is but one example of many decidedly controversial questions in the sphere of medicine: Theologians, too, have their differences of opinion; and this is especially true when they are faced with a new problem. "There are pros and cons to many of these problems, and it may take a long time before the issues are sufficiently clarified to have a ffnanimous opinion for either side or until the teaching authority of the Church inter-venes to settle the matter. Sound morality supplies this practical principle that may be fol-lowed in these legitimately debated matters: obligations (i.e., pre-cepts and prohibitions) are not to be imposed unless they are certain. This is what I mean by the principle of "liberty." For the doctor, this means that, with the consent of the patient, he and his consult-ants may follow what they sincerely judge to be the proper medical procedure as long as this procedure is not certainly wrong. I f) The principle of "totality." I have taken this woful from Pope Pius XII, who said in his address on the moral limits of medical research a~ad treatment (September 14, 1952): "By virtue of the principle of totality, by virtue of his right to use the services of his organism as a whole, the patient can allow individual parts to be destroyed or mutilated when and to the extent~necessary for the good of his being as a whole." Obviously, this is an extremely important principle in medi'cal practice. Every time a doctor, acting according to the principles of sound medicine, and with the consent of his pa-tient, removes an eye, a hand, a gall-bladder, etc., he is following this principle of totality. He removes the member, which is a part of the whole, because it has become in some way.a threat to the survival or the well-being of the whole. 212 Jul~, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE Conclusion The foregoing are. the main, if not the only, principle~ that form the core of an~] sound medico-moral code. Perhaps I have giventhem too much space: yet it seems to me that one really appreciates our hos-pital codes only when he sees these basic principles grouped together and briefly explained. It may be taken for granted that an~ doctor who conscientiously follows these principles will act, not ~nly ac-cording to sound morality, but also according to sound medicine. Earlier in this article I suggested that in the minds of many people the supreme moral principle of Catholic hospitals seems to be that mothers must die for their babies. This, as I said, is best-seller non-sense at its best, and perhaps I should have said at its worst. Implicit in this attitude is the idea that in a critical situation a Catholic mother must always prefer her baby's life to her own. The idea is erroneous. Obviously, no mother may allow the direct taking of her life in order to save her baby, because, as Plus XlI declared, the direct destruction of any innocent life is morally wrong. And even a~ regards the risking of her life, e.g., by submitting to a dangerous operation, for thd sake of her baby, we must be very careful about making universal state-ments. We would have to consider many concrete factors before we could decide whether such a risk is obligatory or even permissible. Closely related to this erroneous notion that in our hospitals mothers must die for their babies is the idea that, since Catholic hos-pitals do not permit thereapeutic abortion (a "gentle" expression for the practice of killing babies to "save" mothers), they lose more mothers than do other hospitals. Not only is there no statistical basis for this, but what statistics we have indicate the very opposite. /~or example, two Boston doctors, Roy J. Heffernan and William "A. Lynch, recently obtained information about maternal deaths from 171 hospitals in various paris of our country. This information covers a period of eleven years, 1940-1950. In these hospitals, during this long period, there were more than ~hree million deliveries, about evenly di~iided, between hospitals that permit therapeutic abortions and hospitals that exclude this practice. The maternal death rate in the hospitals that do not allow therapeutic abortions was .87 .per thousand deli~ceries, whereas in the hospitals that do allow therapeu-tic abortion the maternal death rate was .98 per .thousand deliverles. According to these and similar statistics', the keeping of God's law saves not only babies but their mothers, as well. This is a too-littld-known aspect of the apostolate of Catholic hospitals. 213 .ues!: ons and AnSwers ~18m What can be done to counteract some Iong-sfandincj practlce, s en-gaged in during time of retreat by Sister-retreatants, for example, re-hearslng daily for one or two hours the Mass and hymns to be used ,for the reception ceremony; embroidering and crocheting between conferences2 The Sisters who participate in these works find that it interferes with thei~ recollection. ¯ Some work ab.out the house, some choir practice, and other little jobs (like needlework) would not seem to interfere ,too much with retreat recollection if indulged in only for about aft hour or so a day. That would still allow the retreatants a fair amount of time for un-disturbed private reflection an~l personal duties. If, however, the re-treat schedule were already extraordinarily crowded (which is usually not the case), there might be little time left for such tasks as indi-cated in our question. In any case, it is important that retreatants h~ve a fair amount of leisure time for private reflection, for jotting down. spirittlal "lights," for additional rest, and the like. ml9m At times it is necessary to post items pertinent to religious' in various departments of an establishment in regard to keeping rooms in order, having greater care of furniture, and the like. Would it not further a bet-ter ~om;nunity spirit if such directions were posted in the community room rather than on the doors of the different departments where outsiders may read them and make comments? Yes, it would be better to post items of a personal or private na-ture, whether they pertain to the community as a whole or to indi-vidual members of the community, in some place reserved to the reli-gious family .in preference to other more or less public places. Thus criticism might be lessened. It is possible, :though, that sometimes superiors ihtend such notices not merely nor primarily for religious who are in charge of or are working in a department, but especially for the outside help. Then such notices would be posted where those for whom they a~e intended would see them. In these cases, however, care should be taken that the wording of the notice does not occasion criticism of the religious. 214 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS In a religious congregation (in which simple vows are taken) may a ~ell-glous who is subiect fo a provincial superior have a right of appeal to the superior general when the religlous wants a farad or extra permission? To begin with, religious have the right of communicating with higher superio.rs: such correspondence is sealed. Religidus could. therefore, ask for various permissions from higher superiors. Some extraordinary permissions are usually asked of higher superiors ra~ber than of the immediate superior. Ordinary permissions, however, as a general rule are to be sought from the immediate superior. If that superior refuses the permission, one should not request the same per-mission from a higher superior without informing him that the per-mission was refused by the lower superior." Good government dic-tates that procedure, as ~ell as courtesy ahd possibly the rules of the institute. Before asking for any extra permissions or "favors," religious should remember .that superiors are to help their subjects observe common life; hence superior~ may not readily grant extra permission.s to a subject unless the Circumstances of the case warrant it. Likewise superiors must then be willing, and able, to grant the same permission to any other, subject in the same circuhastances. Subjects should try to lighten° the superior's burden' of of~ce by not requesting permis-sions which superiors should not grant either because they are not consonant with religious life, or because they would violate or harm common life, or because of some other good reason. Besides being a violation of common life, "favoritism" in a community is always odious. The cause of our Venerable Founder has been in progress at Rome for thirty years. In order to help Stimulate popular devotion to our Founderu particularly among ou~ students and their parents--our Order is in the habit of prlntlng, from time to time pictures and devotional pamphlets about him. Up to now. printed matter of that type only bore the nlhll obsfaf of the ordinary of the diocese where our motherhouse is located. It was brough~t to our attention lately that we need the approbation of the Holy See ~or an~ printed material about our Fo, under who has been de-clared Venerable. Is that observation correct? Canon 1387, of the, Code of Canon Law states that what per-tains in any way to the causes of beatification and canonization of 215. QUESTIONS ~ND ~NSWERS Servants of God may not be published without the permission of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. @his restriction applies only~to causes which are pending before the Sacred. Congregation; not to those which are finished (person b~s been canonized), or are pending be-fore some other body "than the Sacred'Congregation of Rites. During the time permission must be obtained from the Sacred Congregation, no further permission of the local ordinary is necessary for publica-tion of matter approved by the Sacred Congregation. The Codex pro Postulatoribus Causarum Beatiffcationis et Can-onizationis i4th edition, 1929, page 26, nos. 21 and 22) repeats the abo~ce and includes pictures (imagines) under the provision of can-on 1387. Several author~ who comment on canon. 1387 say that it seems to refer only t6 documents and. acts connected with the prosecution of th~ cause, such as summaries and proofs proposed for furthering the cause, opinions of consultors; comments of. the prornotor tidei, and the like. These authors rely on a Monitum of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Rites of February 12, 1909, which required previous' permis-sion of the Sacred Congregation for the publication of accounts,of the llfe, virtues, and "wonders" of Servants of God. Consequently it seems probable that the devotional pamphlets and pictures mentioned in our question need not be submitted to the Sacred Congregation for approval. m22-., Postulants are being sent out to the missions to hel'p with the teaching in schools*. They return to the motherhouse fop the week-ends. Are supe-riors justified in extending the postulancy for,three or four months, because the number of novices to be 'professed is not sufficient to fill the places of Fhe postulants? The Normae of 1901 (which have been used as a model for the constitgtions of rehgzous ,congregations) allowed a period of pos-tulancy ranging between gik--and twelve months. They permitted the superior general f~ a ~just cause to prolong the postulancy up to three additional months i~ particular cases (n. 65). A just cause was considered to exist if superiors remained uncertain about the vocation of the candidate, about his qualifications Or defects, or about his ad, justment to the life of the institute. ¯ The Code of Canon Law speaks of a postulancy of at least six entire months which must. be made by all women in religious insti- 216 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS tutes with perpetual vows and by the lay brothers in the.institutes of men. It permits the major superior ,to prolong the postulancy, but not beyond another six months (canon 539). This may be done in particular cases. The purpose of the prolongation is again to allow superiors more time to size up the applicant's vocation and more pre-cisely. his aptitude or fitnes~ for their religious institute. In the light of the above, it is rather difficult to see how superiors wbuld be justified in extending the postulancy for three or four months in the case under consideration. It might be well to add that the Apostolic Delegate has special .faculties to shorten or prolong the postulancy pre~scribed by the Code of Canon Law. Relatives of a relig;ous send money to a mutual friend with the under-standing that the religious will let that friend knowwhat he wants the friend to buy for him on the occasion of his blrfhday, Christmas, Easter, and the like. Is such procedure in keeping with poverty, or would the religious be considered as having a reserved fund of money? In the final .analysis the practice outlined' in the question reduces itself to a private fund of money at the disposal of the religious, a form of peculium generally contrary t~o the poverty professed by most. religious institutes, At best, this is contrary to cohamon life and the spirit of povert, y. A religious who countenanced such a practice could very well profit from reading Father Gallen's excellent article on "The Spirit of Poverty'" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII .[1949], 35-43), not to me.ntion various other articles on common life arid the vow of poverty. As a practical solution, the religious could advise his relatives, who wish to give him a present, to send the money.to 'him rather than to the mutual friend. It would be understood that the reli-gious will turn in the money to his superiors to be added to the com-munity funds; then, when the religious needs something, the superior will provide it from the community funds. In that way both the vow and the spirit of poverty, as well as commott life, will be safe-guarded. A Sister acts as organist for the children's choir and for the adult choir during Mass and other services. Does canon law forbid this? A similar questi6n about a Sister organist was answered in the 217 Review ?or Religious BOOK REVIEWS pages of this REVIEW, VIII (1949), 325. Attention was called to possible diocesan regulations on the matter, even though the Code of Canon Law says nothing about it. In genera~ it seems that there would riot be much objection to a Sister acting as organist for a chil-dren's choir. In case of reai need this might also be stretched to in-clude an adult Choir of women only. But for a mixed adult choir:. "In practice,no Sister should undertake to play the organ for amixed choir of men and women without the express permission of the local ordinary and of her ownhigher superior" ibid.). / Book Reviews .~IRACLES. By Jean Hell~. Translated by Lancelot CL Sheppard. Pp. v~ -h. 288. David McKa¥ (~omp~ny, Inc., New York, 1952. $3.~0. This work is not a philosophical or tbeo16gical treatise on mir-acle. s. Rather, by a fairly detailed historical presentation of selec.ted cases, it is designed to give the reader a fairly general knowledge of, them. It is "a synthesis, or more modestly perhaps, an attempt at a synthesis" (p. 14). The whole story is built around persons, and l~eferably persons Who are not very remote from us in time. The language is not technical, but adapted to all intelligent readers. ,, The first chapter is an account of "miracles of humility": it: pre-sents the "stories of the Cur{ .of ~Ars and of Bernadette Soubi~ous; Then there follows, "Fatima, or the Age of Mary." Therese Neu-mann does not measure up to the author's standards and require-ments. But--surprisingly enough--"Catberine Emmerich, 'Narra, tot' of .the Gospels" and her writir~gs touched up by Clement Bren-tano meet with his full approval. The apparitions at Beauraing, BelgiUm, 1932-1933, are judged t6 be "childish fiction.'" Neverthe~ less' this is one of the few among recent cases that have received epis-copal approbatton. A particularly interesting feature of th~s book is the final chapter: "imitators and Fakers of Miracles." By contrast it serves especially well to bring out the great differences that obtain be-tween, genuine supernatural signs and others that are ~fraudulent, and how the pretended marvelous can be detected and distinguished from whaTt his~ a wuthhoelnet iwc.ork emphasizes the prudent reserve and critical spirb of the Church toward whatever is proposed as surpassing the limiv 218 duly, 1953 BOOK REVIEWS of nature, and tends to,bring about in the mind of the reader a simi-lar wise attitude.---AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD. ., A LIFE OF CHRIST. By Aloys Dirksen, C.PP.S. Dryden Press, New York, 1952. Pp. 340. $3.75. This book is unique in two respects: first, it has the '.'split-p~ge format." that is to say, in the upper part we find the Confraternity text of' the Gospels, and entirely separated from this section, a com-mentary on the Gospel text. One can turn the pages of the upper section without disturbing those below. Secondly, the Commentary and its Introduction are models of intelligent compression. Eight introd_uctory chapters furnish,,~i background for a better understanding of the actual commentary. These include a brief dis-cussion of the sources for a life of Christ, an outline of the geography of Palestine, a survey of the l~revious history of the Jews. the politi-cal and social conditions and prevalent religious beliefs of the period when our Lord was onearth. Such a comprehensive introduction can treat these matters only in barest outline, and if a few inaccuracies have crept in, this can readily be excused. The commentary, too, is suggestive rather thar~ exhaustive: but it is usually very much to the point. The ordinary reader will find there what he wants to know about the Gospel text he is reading. At the end of the commentary, by way of appendix, is a list of messi-anic prophecies found in the-Old Testainent. and of the Old Testa-ment quotations found in the four Gospels. Since the author uses many tec

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KNUBEL, '93. PAUL W. ROLLER, '94. JOHN J. BRALLIER,'93. NIELS L. J. GRON, *93. FLAVIUS HILTON, *93. Business Manager; G. FRANK TURNER, '93. Assistant Business Manager : BENJAMIN R. LANTZ, '94. ™ /One volume (ten months), . . . .$1.00 lERMS*t Single copies, 15 Payable in Advance. All Students are requested to hand us matter for publication. The Alumnt and ex-members of the College will favor us by send-ing information concerning their whereabouts, or any items they may think would be interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address, THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EDITORIAL, 37 FREEDOM IN GERMAN UNIVERSITIES, 39 MOTHER EARTH 41 ZEROS 41 COLLEGE LOCALS, 42 ALUMNI, 45 FRATERNITY NOTES 50 ATHLETICS, 51 TOWN AND SEMINARY 52 LITERARY SOCIETIES ,.,.,, 54 EDITO-RIAL. AN impetus has been given this year to oratorical contests between colleges, particularly in the East. The Western insti-tutions have had this test of comparison for some time, but in this section, it has fallen into disuse or been superseded by the various field contests. Of late years, the struggle between most colleges have savored more of brawn than brain.' A reaction in favor of the latter has, however, been awakened, and it will be appropriate and beneficial if only to a limited extent the training turns from matter to mind. The intellectual should figure to a larger extent than it does. This is a step in the right direction and would be eminently in keeping with the idea of a school of learning. There is a movement on foot to form a State Inter-Collegiate Oratorical Association, and it is proposed that those colleges which have representatives in the State Athletic Associa-tion be elegible to membership. Here is a fresh field for a display of comparative prowess, and would have something to distinguish it from the exhibition of an ordinary athletic club. The enthusiasm manifested in our col-lege of late in all departments shows the state of affairs to be healthy and is accomplishing many good results. In this new opportunity for a test of strength Gettysburg will meet her sisters in any overtures. What's to be done about it? * * WHEN a mob marched the streets of Paris, a young corporal in charge of a regi-ment held them at bay by a salute of cannister. This was Napoleon, and his method of master-ing the situation was by annihilation. In one of the mining camps of the West a mob of 38 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. lynchers are subdued by a gentleman, alone, unarmed, by the power of personality. With guns pointed at his own breast as well as at the one he was protecting, while from two hundred throats came the ominous slogan, "Lynch him!" the pistols are lowered, the thirst for blood withstood,the crowd conquered, by the simple words uttered with rare presence of mind and nerve, " Boys, you can't have this man." This is Heffefinger, famous for his prowess on the foot-ball field, now a Pay-master on a Northwestern railway. " A new field for the athlete" at first suggests itself. Yet it is but the legitimate field of the true athlete, who is nothing less than a true gen-tleman. The admiration for the ability of this man, confined heretofore, perhaps to the lovers of sport, resolves itself into a more exalted esteem and must be shared by all lovers of true manhood. There is no surprise in the incident. He that in the whirl of a foot-ball game, when the brain seems to lose the faculty of percep-tion, when all the world goes round, when one is conscious of nothing but fists, and arms, and knees, and death-like embraces, and earth itself is no longer a terra finna for one's feet, but leaves him treading on space till it rises to meet him with a thud; he who in such a melee keeps himself in order amid general chaos in a master manner, must in similar cir-cumstances, prove master of the situation. And the circumstances are not unlike. There is also a little to be said in favor of a sport that furnishes opportunities for the culture of such nerve and presence of mind. * * THE musical clubs have taken down the orange and blue and hung black on their car. The decree has gone forth that they will not be allowed to give entertainments, during this term, away from town. The musical ability that has wandered into our midst during the last few years has been carefully fostered until at present the college has among its students an organization of mu-sicians such as it has never before possessed, and one which is the equal of any of the simi-lar college clubs in existence—we make no exception. At the very height of success, the Faculty, by refusing to allow the clubs to make a short trip, have brought on a crisis in things musical. This action has also deprived the college of one of its best advertising me-diums. There is hardly a college in the land that does not realize the advantage to be de-rived from a traveling organization representa-tive of its musical talent. The most serious consideration, however, is as to the future. Under the existing circumstances it is a ques-tion whether the men next year will feel justi-fied in making such extensive preparation to give a series of concerts, as it involves sacri-fices of time and money. Can we afford to lose our place in the ranks of the progressive colleges? * * ONE of the luckiest strokes of fortune that could happen this college would be the en-dowment of a Department of History and Poli-tics. Owing to the present union ofthese depart-ments with that of English literature the work of the professor is hampered on both sides. This combination is a most unnatural and illogi-cal one. Just as reasonable would it be to give the management of the instruction in his-tory and politics to the Greek, or Latin, or German professor. Moreover, an extension of the electives in both English and history is desirable but impracticable, because the pro-fessor is already overworked. We feel confi-dent also that the course in literature and rhetoric for the under-classmen is curtailed not because the Faculty do not realize the import-ance of these subjects, or because the students are crowded for time, but on account of a lack of facilities. The prime reason, however, for this plea is the educational value of history itself. What men think of the world depends on what they know of it, and we dare say most of us know little enough. This, of course, is partly our own fault, but it is also due in great measure- to the lack of adequate instruction in THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 39 history. Whenever any of our liberal-minded friends feel disposed to give Gettysburg Col-lege some thousands of their wealth, let them remember the really urgent need of a separate department of History and Politics in this institution. * * * THIS is the last issue of THE MERCURY that the present staff will control. The societies have elected a new staff and they will have control of the publication for one year. We are pleased to state that THE MERCURY is on a sure financial basis already and we wish to thank all those who have contributed to its success. The many words of commendation which we have received on every hand, both by letter and through the press, have been very encouraging and have aided us. We were tempted to publish some of these but we remained firm in our first decision that THE MERCURY must stand on its own merit. The new staff is as follows: Editor, Julius F. Seebach ; Assistant Editors, Frank Fickin-ger, Sumner R. Miller, Roscoe C. Wright, Henry E. Clare, Alfred S. Cook, Paul W. Roller, and Waldo D. Maynard; Business Manager, Benj. R. Lantz; Assistant Business Manager, Chas. F. Kloss. We bespeak the same consideration for the coming staff that has been shown the retiring members of the board. FREEDOM IN GERMAN UNIVERSITIES. THE hegemony of Germany in all branches of science, without excep-tion, must be recognized by all civilized na-tions. It is a fact that Germany, scientifically, produces more than all the rest of the world." Mon. F. Lot, L'enseignement superieur en France. Ce qu'il est ce qu'il devrait etre, 1892. The wisdom of Germany, it is often sneer-ingly said, is professorial wisdom. Look at England and you will see men like Humphry Davy, Faraday, Mill, Grote, Darwin, Spencer, who have no connection with English institu-tions. In the fatherland, however, the case is different. Nearly all the pioneers of science hold academic chairs, those who do not have at least the right to deliver lectures in the uni-versities. The universities are the seats of science. No wonder that scholars of every tongue come to them, even from the farthest parts of the earth. What is the cause of this prominent position ? It is the freedom which is granted to the students and to the profes-sors. To the German mind students are young men, responsible to themselves, who aspire after science of their own free will. They arrange their own plan of studies as they think best. They have free choice among the teachers of the same subject. It matters not whether these be ordinary or extraordinary (assistant) professors or private docents. At the same time they have perfect freedom to migrate from one university to another, from Ronigsber"' to Zurich, from Gottingen to Gratz. Outside the university there is no con-trol over the conduct of the students so long as they do not come into conflict with the guardians of public order. No civil authority can touch the color-bearing citizen of the re-public of letters. Even if the drawn swords of policemen should meet the naked rapier of the " Burschen," the university authorities are called upon to decide. The " Bursche " stands or falls to his rector. It must be considered fortunate that German students have retained a vivid sense of corporate unions, by which an honorable behavior of the individual is demanded. To Americans this uncontrolled freedom is, no doubt, a subject of astonishment. How can young men be left thus to themselves without the greatest detriment? But it must be remembered that no German is allowed to become a citizen of a university except he has given proof of his ability to use rightly the freedom which is granted to him. He comes from the gymnasium with a logically 40 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. trained judgment, with a sufficient habit of mental exertion, with a tact developed on the best models to discriminate truth from the ap-pearance of truth—right from wrong. Delighted in youthful responsibility, he then devotes himself to the task of striving after the best and noblest which the human race has hitherto been able to attain in knowledge and in speculation. Joyfully he sings : " Hurrah ! Freies Wort lebe ! Hurrah hoch ! Wer die Wahrheit kemiet und saget sie nicht, Der bleibt furwahr ein erbarmlicher Wicht, Frei ist der Bursch !" He is joined in friendly rivalry with a large body of associates of similar aspirations. In mental intercourse with his teachers he learns how to " work the thoughts of independent minds." The German regards his student life as his golden age. With the melancholy tune's: " O alte Burschenherrlichkeit! Wie schnell bist du verschwunden ! Nie kehrst du wieder, goldne Zeit, So froh und ungebunden," he leaves the city of the muses. Since the German students are esteemed as men, whose unfettered conviction is to be gained, and who can no longer be appeased by an appeal to any authority, instruction is given to them only by teachers who have proved their own power of advancing science. No professors are introduced into the faculties who have not the qualifications of an inde-pendent academical teacher. He who desires to give his hearers a perfect conviction of the truth of his principles must know how convic-tion is acquired. He must have worked at the confines of human knowledge, and conquered for it new regions. A teacher who retails views which are foreign to him may be sufficient for those pupils who depend upon authority as the source of their knowledge. To such, however, as require bases for their beliefs, which extend to the very bottom, an opinion which is not based upon independent research, appears of no value. It is only with students who give themselves to the formation of inde-pendent thoughts that the intelligence of the teacher bears any further fruit. But the conviction of the student can only be acquired when freedom of expression is guaranteed to the teacher's own conviction. Liberty of teaching has not always been in-sured in Germany. In times of political and ecclesiastical struggles the ruling parties have often enough allowed themselves to encroach. The political freedom of the new empire has brought a cure for this. There is now no ob-stacle to the discussion of a scientific question in a scientific spirit. When toward the end of 1892 a reactionary party sought to deprive the theologians of the advanced school of their academic chairs, the German nation regarded the movement as an attack upon their sanctu-ary. Liberty of teaching! Freedom alone can cure the errors of freedom and a riper knowledge, the errors of what is unripe. No wonder that the Germans have such a number of young men, the so-called " privatdocenten," who without salary, with insignificant incomes from fees, and with very uncertain prospects of the future, devote themselves to arduous sci-entific work. And how readily the faculties admit young men who at any moment may change from assistants to competitors. Thus it has been seen that the entire organi-zation of the German universities is permeated by respect of free, independent thought. This love of freedom, which is more strongly im-pressed on the Teutons than on their Aryan kindred of the Celtic and Romanic branches, is the main cause of the intellectual supremacy of Germany. But liberty necessarily implies responsibility. The German professors and students are in a responsible position. They have to preserve a noble inheritance not only to their own peo-ple, but also as a model to the wider circles of humanity. They must work for independence of conviction. I say zvork! For indepen-dence of conviction is not the facile assumption THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 41 of untested hypotheses, but can only be ac-quired as the fruit of conscientious inquiry and earnest labor. They must also show that a conviction which they themselves have worked out is a more fruitful germ of fresh insight and a better guide for action than the best inten-tioned guidance by authority. The spirit which overthrew the yoke of the Church of Rome also organized the German universities. Germany, which in the six-teenth century first revolted for the right of free inquiry and gave its witness in blood, is still the van of this fight. Truly to Germany has fallen an exalted historical task. And if the mighty armies of her mighty foe should invade her sacred borders and crush the youth-ful defenders of the united Empire, Germany will still be the conqueror of the world. MOTHER EARTH. Mother Earth is waiting for her children, Wooing them to seek her quiet breast, Offering for their wounds a balmy healing, For their weariness—a dreamless rest. When the sun is riding in the heavens, When the day is shining warm and bright, Then they oft forget the patient mother, Yet she knows they will return at night. Mother Earth is calling to her children, Calling them in every passing breeze, In the mystic murmur of her waters, In the rustling of her forest trees; But the tender music of her whisper Falls unheeded on each deafened ear, For the chinking of her gold and silver Is the sweetest melody they hear. Mother Earth is beckoning to her children, Beckoning from each dancing flower and vine, Fluttering hands from every nodding tree-top, Wave and beckon in the glad sunshine; But her children's eyes are strained with watching For the fluttering of their while-sailed ships, For the laden barge whose longed-for coming Sets the wine of fortune to their lips. Mother Earth, thy children have forgot thee In the bustle of their noisy life, Lost are all thy gentle invitations In the dust and din of noonday strife; But when evening dews are softly falling Then, all bruised and weary from the fray, Heeding late thine oft-repeated summons, One by one they drowsily obey. —M. R. H., '94. ZEROS. IN the great problem of destiny, whether it be that of a race or of a nation—or per-chance of both—we find figures of value and zeros as in the simplest mathematical problem. In scanning the pages of history we find in every problem presented to the race for solu-tion, whether one of sociology or one of national or international importance, men of foresight, men of wisdom, men of individual thought and action—great men—who at a glance have grappled with the questions of the hour, and, by their industry and perseverance, planted on heights far in advance the ensigns of liberty and progress. As we look upon the great march of hu-manity, from the gates of Eden to the nine-teenth century, we see in the vanguard of this mighty host men leading in thought and in action, the light of whose achievements, shin-ing with refulgent splendor, has illumined ever the pathway of nations. In the constellated canopy of history there are stars which far surpass their fellows in brilliancy and splendor. Amid the social darkness of the fifteenth century, when igno-rance and superstition enveloped Europe as with a pall, there shone forth a Calvin and a Luther—bright stars which will continue to shine with an ever-increasing brightness until the dawning of the other day. When the great problem of the Reformation presented itself to mankind for solution all must admit that these men were figures of inestimable value. When the problem of American Indepen-dence was presented to the struggling colonies for solution, we see a Washington, a Jefferson, an Adams, and a Henry, at whose urns we may even to this day rekindle within our 42 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. breasts the slumbering fires of patriotism, and freely imbibe the true spirit of fatherland de-votion. A quarter of a century ago, when the life of the nation hung trembling in the balance, when one of the greatest problems to which a nation has ever been brought face to face was presented to Americans for solution—a pro-blem which cost many a human sacrifice upon the altar of a country's devotion, and for which the sod of many a field was crimson-dyed— there stood forth from the multitude, pre-eminent among all other leaders, the immortal Lincoln, whose life-work can be best summed up in the intertwining of the pine and the pal-metto o'er his tomb. Thus has it been through all history from the beginning. However trivial or mighty in importance the problems have been, we find alongside of the figure's value the zeros. As there are those who of themselves advance, and thus advance our race, so are there those who by their efforts would retard the onward, upward march. We meet on every hand these counteracting, deadening influences. These negative forces are at work in eveiy age. They pull down where others build; they tarry where others progress. Setting themselves up in opposition to every generous impulse, every noble endeavor, and every patriotic movement, as zeros to the left of a significant figure, they decrease the value of all that is noble and good, and depreciate whatever is honorable and upright. But who are zeros ? Well may we ask. In brief, carrying out the original figure, men who are nothing, stand for nothing, have not the courage of their con-victions, without individual value, unstable as water, wavering as the reed in every wind that blows. In this age of constant change, this age in which Church and society are under-going so many transformations, zeros.are not wanted, but men. Men who are not driven hither and thither by every wind of dissension, nor stranded upon the shoals of every new doctrine ; men who can, when these storms arise, let down through the troubled waters the anchor of firmness and stability until it rests secure upon the grand old rock of prin-ciple. These are the men who preserve our government and free institutions, not only in times of civil commotion, but also in the hour of a nation's peril. Many and varied are the problems which are brought before the American people. These problems must be solved, and each American citizen is a factor in their solution. As we look about us, particularly at election time, and see the masses—the body politic of this great Republic—arranged as so many zeros at the dictation of a " party boss," dis-posed of as though they possessed no individual opinions, no individual value, does not this spectacle impress us with a sense of the dan-gers toward which we are drifting ? By using such factors in the solution of our political problems, is it difficult to see what the result will be ? The result of every problem is in proportion to the number of zeros employed in its solution. Bearing this thought in mind, I would plead earnestly for individual thought, individual action, individual merit, individual value and worth. The words of Longfellow come to us with a peculiar aptness, " In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife." When this becomes a living reality, will America reach the summit of national great-ness. Then might will not make right, and justice will not be handicapped. ROSCOE C. WRIGHT. COLLEGE LOCALS. MARION J. KLINE, Editor. SINCE the last issue of THE MERCURY Dr. Charles Baum, '74, of Philadelphia, has endowed the Baum Sophomore Mathematical Prize with $500. The interest on this amount will be annually given to the Sophomore who THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 43 attains the highest grade in mathematics. THE MERCURY wishes to extend to Dr. Baum the sincere and hearty thanks of the students of his Alma Mater for his kindness. The Philadelphia Press of April 20th con-tains the following item of interest to all friends of our college and the Lutheran Church: " The will of the late Jacob Reddig, of Ship-pensburg, was probated to-day before Register Clark. The public bequests made by the tes-tator are $500 to the Theological Seminary of the General Synod of the Lutheran Church; S500 to the Pennsylvania College at Gettys-burg ; $500 to the Board of Home Missions of the General Synod of the Lutheran Church ; S200 to the Lutheran Board of Church Ex-tension ; $200 to the Education Society of the West Pennsylvania Synod of the same church ; Si00 to the Missionary Institute at Selin's Grove, and $100 to the Tressler Orphans' Home at Loysville." " Mr. R., you should never pick your teeth with a metallic tooth-pick !" Mr. R., of'95.—" I beg your pardon, but it isn't metallic. It is gold." Is that the kind of non-metallic gold you have in New York State ? Prof. H.—" What treaty was made in the year 1842 ?" Mr. O., of '93.—" There was a treaty con-cerning neutral trade made by Washington!' Prof. B.—" What mode is attributo ?" Mr. M., of '96.—"Ablative." Mr. J., of '95, says he is taking vocal lessons in singing. Persevere, Charley, and you will make the glee club. Chappie H., of '95, insists upon it that Adam was in the ark, while Mr. E., of '95, who is famed for his extensive and accurate knowl-edge of the Bible, graciously points out to him his mistake by telling him it was Moses. Mr. K., of '93, is quite an electrician. The other day he was heard to exclaim: " Hello, Rutt; do you have any isolated wire ?" Dr. B.—" What was the number of soldiers who were placed as a guard over Peter in prison ?" Mr. V., of '93.—" There were four quarts— I mean four quarters of soldiers." Bad break, Billy. " What is the subject of your graduating speech ?" one Senior was heard to ask of an-other. " They gave me 3 Es and 5 Ds," was the significant reply. Mr. H., Sr., of '95 (hunting for molybdate solution).—" Doctor, where will I find the elliptic solution?" Mr. B., '93, has a phonogragh. During the Easter vacation he was giving entertainments. One evening he made the following announce-ment : " The next selection is ' The Midnight Fire Alarm,' as played by the U. S. Marine Band. You must listen for the gong and then the alarm will be sounded." Then the phono-graph played " Nearer, My God, to Thee." Mr. B. now puts the title on each roll. Mr. S., '94 (carving pork).—" This beefsteak has the queerest appearance of any beefsteak I ever saw." Put on your glasses, Selly. Mr. R., of '95 (as a six-mule team passes by).—" Well, a six-horse team for such a little load ! New York must certainly have some ' way-back' sections." Mr. A., of'93, to Mr. G, of '93 (with photo-graph of beautiful young girl suspiciously near his lips).—" Stop kissing that photo., G." Mr. G.—" I am not kissing it. I'm blowing the dust off." Mr. B., of '93 (to street-car conductor).— " Please give me a transfer to Heart-iy Street." With a phonograph to occupy his mind and a girl to possess his heart, our friend B. is in a bad way. Mr. H., Sr., of '95, says that there are a large number of Italians digging up the electric rail-road. Dr. S.—" Pants is the abbreviated form of pantaloons, Mr. C." Mr. C, of '07.—" But, Doctor, pants is uni-versally used." " Arthur, I fear we must modify the univer-sality of the usage." Mr. S., of '93, says Gettysburg is a bad place for crows. " One day I saw fifteen dead crows walking along the railroad track." That must have been a remarkable sight. At a "World's Fair Exhibit" contest for amateur photography, Mr. R. A. Warner, for- 44 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. merly of the class of '95, had the compliment paid him as a photographer of having seven of his views selected for exhibition. Among the views was one of" Pennsylvania Hall," Gettys-burg College, and also a bird's-eye view of the campus. THE MERCURY extends congratula-tions. Several years ago the Board of Trustees passed a rule that, beginning with the Class of '93, each class shall be represented in the Com-mencement exercises by ten speakers. These speakers shall be the ten men who shall have attained the highest averages in their studies for the three terms of Junior year and the first two terms of Senior year. This arrangement is much more satisfactory to all concerned than the former rule of having the whole class speak, and its wisdom is exemplified in the case of the present class, which will graduate about 50 men. In accordance with this rule Dean Bikle has made the following announcement of speakers and subjects: Latin Salutatory, John J. Brallier; "Safe-guards of Suffrage," C. Edward Allison; " Man's Use of Natural Forces," William H. Deardoff; "The Roman Element in Modern Law," John G. Dundore; " Socialism and In-dividual Liberty," William J. Geis; "The Gothenburg System," Andrew S. Hain ; " Na-tional Quarantine," William C. Heffner ; "Fa-miliarity with the Best Literature," Frederick H. Knubel; "Literature and Revolution," Edgar Sutherland ; " Valedictory," Marion T. Kline. Another evidence of the progressive spirit of our preparatory department appears in the adoption of a new marking system, viz., ex-emption from examinations to those who se-cure a term-mark above a certain per cent. This system—new to us—has been almost universally adopted by the larger colleges and universities, and has in it much to recommend it to our own institution proper. It' has be-come almost an aphorism that examinations do not measure a student's ability or his honest intellectual acquirements. The new system does away with that practice so hurt-ful in its effects upon the college man. We refer to the " cramming " for examinations. And it encourages instead, honest, faithful work from day to day. We predict for the future classes of our college a better equipped set of men as a result of Professor Klinger's advanced ideas on education as shown in his new methods. The " Class Day" Committee, of the Class of '93, Messrs. Brallier, Guss, Hilton, Knubel, and Kline, have arranged a programme for Class Day, and it has been adopted by the class. The class also selected the gentlemen who have places on the programme. The following is the programme : TUESDAY, JUNE 20TH, 1893. Master of Ceremonies Gellert Alleman 3 l'- M. Ivy Poem, Frank R. Welty Ivy Oration, . John C. Bowers Ivy Song, . Class of '93 6.30 I1. M. Music, Band Address of Welcome, Jerome M. Guss Class Roll, Virgil R. Saylor Music, Band History, G. M. K. Diffenderfer " Bellamy," Charles W. Leitzell Music, Ban(i " Pulswana," William L. Ammon Class Song, Class of'93 John Hay Kuhns, Poet On April 8th, at 11.15 A. M., our President, Dr. H. W. McKnight, set sail from Hoboken, N. J., on the " Kaiser Wilhelm II," of the North German Lloyd line, for a trip to the continent. On Monday, April 17th, a cable-gram, announcing his safe arrival at Gibraltar, was received at Gettysburg. He sails from Gibraltar to Genoa and then will spend one week in the southern part of France. Thence he will visit the principal cities of Italy and pass through Switzerland and Germany. He will then visit Paris and London. He expects to set sail from Southampton, Eng., about June 7th, for New York. He will return on " The Spree," which is due in New York on June 13th. THE MERCURY wishes the Doctor a pleasant time, and trusts that he may return to us en-tirely restored to health and strengthened for many years of usefulness as the honored President of Gettysburg College. Y. M. C. A. NOTES. The College Association was well repre-sented at the recent district convention held in Middletown, Pa., on the 7th, 8th, and 9th of THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 45 April- There were six authorized delegates from the college, and one from the preparatory-association. They seem to have taken active part in the exercises and devotions, and were full of enthusiasm and zeal for the work as they gave their reports at the regular meeting on Thursday evening, April 13th. The meet-in"- of that evening was especially well at-tended, and close attention was paid to the talks delivered by the delegates, who recounted the methods and extent of Y. M. C. A. work in the district. Mr. Malof, a Syrian, a native of Damascus, having been present at the Middletown Con-vention, also addressed the meeting in a very pleasant and interesting manner. We expect good results from the Conference of Y. M. C. A. Presidents from the States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland, to be held at Carlisle, April 27th to 30th inclu-sive. The Presidents of both the college and preparatory associations expect to be present, and also Mr. Marion J. Kline, of the Senior Class, who will present some papers before the Conference. The good influence of the Y. M. C. A. among our boys is very apparent and most encouraging. The leaders appointed have, with but few exceptions, taken charge of the meetings and conducted the devotions in a most acceptable manner. Let all our students identify themselves with this organization and attend all its meet-ings regularly. Then we may expect greater results and richer blessings to ourselves and our institution. ALUMNI. FRED. H. KNUHEL, Editor. MANY a letter of praise and encourage-ment has been received by us from the Alumni; they impel us to more earnest work for the improvement of THE MERCURY. The present staff of editors has decided not to publish any of them, but keep this department purely for the brief mention of interesting bits of news that come under our eye. We are always open for suggestions, notes, and the like. Recently the Literary Societies adopted rules to govern the publication of THE MERCURY. Among; them was one which seeks the election of an editor by the Alumni Asso-ciation, who is to have charge of this depart-ment along with a student. It is impossible for one who is yet in college to do all that should be done; his sources of information arc not sufficient. We hope the Alumni Associa-tion will elect a live man for us at their meet-ing in June. Mr. Frank Fickinger, '94, is the student elected, who will hereafter take care of the Alumni notes. Commencement is approaching fast and every alumnus who possibly can should be here. There ought to be rousing reunions of the classes of '90, '83, '68, and even of '43, though the living members of the last named are few in number. Lack of space prevents us from mentioning the Easter services and accessions of our ministerial graduates. The Lutheran Publication Society has just issued The Distinctive Doctrines and Usages of the General Bodies of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the United States. The General Synod is represented by Rev. Prof. M. Valentine, D. D., LL D., '50; the General Council by Rev. Prof. H. E. Jacobs, D. D., LL. D., '62; and the United Synod in the South by Rev. E. T. Horn, D. D., '69. The three other divisions of the book are not by Gettysburg men. Seven P. C. men contribute to the April Lutheran Quarterly. Dr. E. Miller, '41, " The Pastor fertile Times ;" Dr. M. Valentine, '50, " Conquerers through Christ;" Dr. E. J. Wolf, '63, "Two Facts as to Inerrancy;" Rev. G F. Behringer, '68, '' Frederick the Wise and the Castle Church at Wittenberg ;" Rev. J. Wag-ner, '71, " The Lutheran Church Doctrines in the Nineteenth Century;" Rev. M. S. Cressman, '75, "The International Lesson System;" Rev. J. Aberly, '88, " The Decennial Confer-ence in India." Rev. Prof. M. Valentine, D. D., LL. D., '50, and Rev. Prof. H. E. Jacobs, D. D., LL. D., '62, have able articles in a recent number of the Lndepcndent on " Denominational Union among Lutherans." '35. A picture of Hon. M. G. Dale appears in the February School Board Journal. He is President of the School Board of Edwards-ville, 111. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. '36. Rev. F. A. Muhlenberg, D. D., Presi-dent of Thiel College, was stricken with paraly-sis, but has recovered and resumed his work. '40. The fifth volume of Lectures on the Gospels and Epistles, by Dr. Seiss, has ap-peared. It is in size and form like the four other volumes. '44. John T. Morris, Esq., has been spend-ing some time in Florida for the benefit of his health. '46. The Sunday-school of St. Matthew's Church, Philadelphia, Pa., Rev. Wm. Baum, D. D., pastor, celebrated its 74th anniversary at Easter. '47. Rev. J. G. Butler, D. D., for so long a time Chaplain of the United States Senate, on account of the change of administration holds that position no longer. '48. In the Philadelphia Press of April 20th appears an able article by Hon. Edw. McPher-son. It is a stricture on Prof. Woodrow Wil-son's article on the relative merits of Bayard and Blaine. It was copied from the Gettys-burg Star and Sentinel. '50. The April Reviezu of Reviews gives an excellent portrait of Dr. Valentine in an illus-trated article by Dr. Barrows on the World's first Parliament of Religions to be held at Chicago next September, of which Parliament Dr. Valentine is a member. On September 12th he will read a paper on " The Harmonies and Diversities in the Theistic Conceptions of the Historic Faiths." '51. On the nomination of Congressman Beltzhoover, '62, Hon. David Wills has been appointed one of the Vice-Presidents of the Congress of Finance of the World's Fair. The congress is to meet about June 19th. He is also a delegate from the Carlisle Presbytery to the General Assembly. '53. Rev. P. Bergstresser resigned his charge, Middletown, Md., and will make his future home in Chicago from May 1st. He has been awarded a prize for a poem written by him. '53. Rev. J. S. Lawson, pastor of the Luth-eran Church in Pittsburgh, East End, has just issued the first number of a periodical, to be known as The Lutheran MontMy, It is to be issued in the interest of the pastors and churches of the Pittsburgh Synod. '53. A large part of Rev. W. F. Ulery's article on the " Intermediate State," that ap-peared in a recent Lutheran Quarterly, was rcpublished in The Thinker, of London. '55. Rev. Prof. Eli Huber, D. D., who occu-pies the chair of Biblical Literature in the Col-lege, has been bereft of his wife, who had been sick for a long time. He has the sympathy of all. '56. The corner-stone of Dr. S. A. Holman's new church in Philadelphia was laid some time ago. H. M. Bickel, D. D., '48, delivered an appropriate address. '57. Prof. H. L. Bauger, D. D., has been chosen one of the Vice-Presidents of the Anti- Gambling Society, and also as a member of the Advisory Board of the World's Congress on Religion at Chicago. '57. Prof. L. A. Gotwald, D. D., has been acquitted of the charges brought against him as a Professor in Wittenberg Theological Seminary, that he was not teaching the type of Lutheranism under which the college was founded. The defense was that he had not violated the obligation he took at his inaugu-tion. The Doctor will preach the sermon on Sunday night of Commencement Week to the students of Newberry College. '57. Dr. C. L. Keedy informs the public that the report stating that he has been negotiating to sell Kee Mar property, at Hagerstown, to the Catholic sisters is incorrect. '58. Rev. E. S. Johnston received a fine gold watch on April 9th from the members of the three churches composing the Stoyestown, Pa., charge. The occasion was his birthday. '61. Rev. J. B. Remensnyder, D. D., pastor of St. James', New York city, is preaching a series of Sunday evening sermons on the "Epiphanies of the Risen Lord." '62. This year's Spectrum, the Junior annual, will contain a historical sketch of Co. A, Twenty-sixth Emergency Regiment, Pennsyl-vania Volunteers, the College company, by Captain F. Klinefelter. '62. C. V. S. Levy, Esq., has been again appointed City Attorney of. Frederick, Md. '62. Rev. J. L Smith, of Christ Lutheran Church, Pittsburgh, was highly complimented THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 47 by the Pittsburgh Journal of April 8th, on his very successful work during his first year's pastorate there. '63. Rev. M. Colver, some weeks ago, preached a special sermon before the Knights of Pythias, on " Faith without Works is Dead." It received high praise both from the Order and the local press. '63. Prof. E. J. Wolf, D. D., is one of the speakers on " Lutheran Day " at the World's Fair next September. '64. The present address of Rev. P. Doerr is Ligonier, Pa. '64. The address of Rev. J. G. Griffith has been temporarily changed from Stella, Neb., to Shannon House, Pawnee City, Neb. '64. Dr. Theo. L. Seip has been appointed by Dr. William T. Harris, United States Com-missioner of Education, as a delegate and honorary Vice-President of the Congress of High Education, at the World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, which is to convene July 25th, 1893. '65. A cablegram announces the safe arrival of Dr. McKnight and Mr. Scott, at Gibraltar. '68. The Inter-Ocean of Monday, March 13th, devotes a column and a half to a sketch of the history and growth of Grace Lutheran Church under the faithful ministry of Rev. L. M. Heilman. This sketch is followed by a very full outline of the sermon preached the day previous, together with a portrait of Rev. Heilman and an engraving of his church and parsonage. '68. Rev. R. F. McClean, for many years Presbyterian pastor at New Bloomfield, has removed to Carlisle, Pa. '68. Dr. Richard and his wife returned to Gettysburg on Tuesday evening, April nth, from their year's sojourn in Europe. An ac-count of the reception given them will be found among the Seminary Notes. Dr. Richard brings a phototype reproduction of the Codex Vaticanus for the use of the Seminary. '69. Rev. E. T. Horn, D.D., of Charleston, S. C, has been elected to membership in the American Society of Church Histoiy. '70. Rev. A. G. Fesnacht, of York, will erect two houses on West Middle Street, Gettysburg. He was in town recently looking after their erection. '71. Rev. Dr. W. H. Dunbar, of Lebanon, Pa., lectured in Baltimore, at the First Lutheran Church, and for Dr. Parson in Washington. '71. Prof. G. D. Stahley, M. D., Professor of Hygiene and Physical Culture, has been in-vited to become one of the honorary Vice- Presidents of Department Congress of Phy-sical Education at the World's Fair. '71. The salary of Rev. John Wagner, Hazleton, Pa., has been increased from $1,200 to $1,500, and the council voted the same to take effect from his eighteenth anniversary, which occurred on the first of July of last year. '72. St. John's Lutheran Church, Northum-berland, Pa., Rev. A. N. Warner, pastor, bought a parsonage on April 1st, and made the first payment, $600. '73. Rev. S. L. Sieber preached his farewell sermon to his congregation at Lewisburg, Pa., on April 9th. During his three years' pas-torate much has been accomplished. '74. An addition to the Lutheran Chapel, at Hughesville, Pa., Rev. J. A. Wiit, pastor, is planned. Already $3,200 have been secured. '74. Mention is made elsewhere of the gen-erous gift of Charles Baum, M. D. At last the Sophomores have a prize to contend for. '74. The Democrat and Sentinel of Lewis-ton, Pa., has great words of praise for Rev. J. B. Focht. '74. Rev. M. O. T. Sahm has removed to New Millport, Clearfield County, Pa., of which pastorate he has taken charge. '75. Rev. E. G. Hay, Pottsvillc, Pa., was presented by his congregation with an Easter Egg, containing fifty dollars in gold. His successful parish paper, The English Lutheran, is in its seventh year and has a circulation of 700. '75. Rev. E. D. Weigle, of the First Luth-eran Church, Altoona, Pa., was recently pre-sented with a handsome secretary by the young people of his church, the occasion be- 48 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. ing the celebration of his sixth anniversary as pastor. Mr. Weigle will preach the Bac-calaureate before the graduating class of Lutherville Seminary, June 4th. '77. On Easter Sunday a very handsome polished brass lecturn was dedicated in St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Canajoharie, N. Y., Rev. Wm. M. Baum, Jr., pastor. It was pre-sented by one of his members. '77. The address of Rev. R. F. Hassinger is changed from Beaver Springs to Beavertown, Snyder County, Pa. '77. Rev. B. F. Kautz, Millersburg, Pa., has been granted leave of absence for three months to afford him- an opportunity to regain his health, which is somewhat impaired. '77. Rev. F. P. Manhart is starting out with great vigor in his work at Missionary Insti-tute, Selin's Grove. He has issued a number of circulars to pastors and friends of the insti-tution. '77. Rev. W. L. Seabrook has returned from Florida to his church at Abilene, Kansas. His health is fully restored. During his long and severe sickness his congregation has acted nobly toward him. '77. Rev. C. S. Trump and his wife cele-brated the tenth anniversary of their wedding on March 6th. The members of the congre-gation sent a gift of a horse and buggy. Our congratulations and best wishes. '77. Rev. J. J. Young, D. D., now of Rich-mond, Ind., preached trial sermons on April 9th at St. John's Church, New York city. He has received a call from there and will proba-bly accept. '78. Geo. J. Benner, Esq., has been retained as counsel in the Heist murder trial, which will come up before the August court at Gettysburg. '79. Rev. E. Felton, Baltimore, Md., is re-covering from his late illness. He is now in Gettysburg and will remain for a few weeks. '80. Rev. Lindley N. Fleck was installed pastor at Oriole, Pa., on March 12th, by Rev. Prof. Jacob Yutzy, President of the Susque-hanna Synod. '80. Rev. J. A. Metzger recently preached his tenth anniversary sermon as pastor of his first charge. '80. Grace Lutheran Church, Springfield, 111., Rev. M. F. Troxell, pastor, was dedicated on March 19th. Pictures of the church and pastor appear in the Illinois State Register of March 18th. The sermons on the day of dedication were by President Clutz, '69, of Midland; President Dysinger, '78, of Carthage, and Dr. Barnitz, '61, Western Secretary of Home Missions. Mr. Troxell is a representa-tive of the Lutheran Church in the Illinois Church Alliance. '81. Rev. W. P. Swartz was elected Modera-tor of the New Castle Presbytery, which con-vened at Elkton, Md., last month. '82. Rev. H. L. Jacobs has been appointed to the pulpit of the Methodist Church in New Oxford, Pa. '82. Rev. H. H. Weber, General Secretary of the Board of Church Extension, preached a series of inspiring sermons in Bethlehem Tabernacle, Harrisburg, Pa., beginning ' on Palm Sunday, extending nightly through Pas-sion week, and closing on Easter Sunday. '83. Rev. Prof. H. G. Buchler is a member of "The New England Association of Col-leges and Preparatory Schools." '84. Rev. Herman F. Kroh has resigned from the pastorate of St. John's Lutheran Church, Sparrow's Point, Md. He has at present no other charge. His address is 152?. North Wolfe Street, Baltimore. '84. Dr. J. B. McAllister is a delegate from Dauphin Co. to the convention of physicians to be held in New York in June. '84. Rev. L. M. Zimmerman, pastor of Christ Church, Baltimore, has issued the first number of a neat parish paper entitled The Pastor s Indicator. '85. Rev. G. G. M. Brown, pastor of the Union Bridge and Keysville congregations, Maryland, has issued a helpful paper, The Pastor's Anniversary, which contains a sum-mary of the past two years' work, and some spiritually valuable suggestions to his flocl for the future. The suggestions are ones for any Christian. good THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 49 I '85. Rev. E. G. Miller was installed at Eas-tern on April i6th, by Rev. M. Valentine, D. D., LL. D., '50. '86. Rev. J. Elmer Bittle, of the Theological Seminary, has received a call to the Lutheran charge at Braidland, Pa., which he supplied during his last vacation. '86. The Messiah Lutherans of Harrisburg recently voted Rev. Deyoe an increase of $200 in his salary, which he declined in favor of the church's debt. '86. Rev. E. E. Ide has canvassed the western section of Baltimore, and will in the near future organize a prosperous mission. The field is a rich one for an English Lutheran Church. '86. The San Jose, Cal., Report of April 12th publishes an excellent likeness of Rev. V. G. L. Tressler, M. A., in connection with an article on his life and work. His great suc-cess in his church work is lauded and the cause-ascribed, " confidence in ' The Victory of the Faith '." Mr. Tressler is the Lutheran denomi-national Secretary of the State Y. P. S. C. E. '87. Rev. S. E. Bateman is continuing to introduce new ideas in his work at St. Mark's Mission, Hagerstown, Md. He has now a " Literature Table," which is supplied with church papers, periodicals, tracts, etc., for free distribution. '87. Christ Lutheran Church, Harrisburg, Rev. T. L. Grouse, pastor, celebrated its third anniversary at Easter. It was organized with 60 members, and now has 210. '87. The sickness of Rev. Cyrus G. Focht, Centreville, Pa., continues ; he is yet in a very critical condition. '87. The College Forum, the paper of Leba-non Valley College, begins in its March num-ber an excellent article on " Prometheus Bound," by Prof. J. A. M'Dermad, A. M. We await the continuation. '87. Dr. I. Newton Snively has been elected President of the Northwestern Medical Society, Philadelphia, and also Assistant to the Pro-fessor of Nervous Diseases in the Medico- Chirurgical College. '88. Rev. John Aberly, the students' mis- '90. Rev. F. S. Geesey has been elected sionary to India, has issued his circular letter ' pastor of Trinity charge, York Co., and will No. 2, which is addressed to the students of all the Lutheran colleges and seminaries that help to support him. '88. Rev. L. S. Black assumed charge of Christ Church, Gettysburg, on April 9th. The evening following, a reception was ten-dered him in the lecture-room of the church. The local papers of his former charge are sending good words after him. '88. The new chapel of the Church of the Reformation, Baltimore, Rev. D. Frank Gar-land, pastor, will be dedicated on Sunday, May 14th. '88. Rev. Leander Goetz will not go to Evansville, Ind., as reported, but continue in his present charge at Newberry, Pa. '89. The Church of the White Deer, Pa., charge, Rev. R. E. Fetterolf, pastor, burned to the ground on Sunday morning, March 19th. " To rebuild will be a very difficult thing for the present," Mr. Fetterolf says. '89. E. C. Hecht, of Red Lodge, Mont., ex-pects to go to Germany in a year or two to study the Romance languages. '89. Rev. A. M. Heilman, Dallastown, Pa., was surprised by his people recently by the handsome sofa and other things they presented to him on the twenty-seventh anniversary of his birthday. '89. Rev. H. E. Wieand's congregation at Clarion, Pa., have bought the old Methodist church property for $1,250. '89. Rev. H. E. Zimmerman, of the Semi-nary, has accepted a call to Tannersville, Pa. '90. Rev. J. E. Bittle has been called to the charge at Baitland, Pa. '90. Rev. H. C. Bixler has accepted the call to the Manchester (York Co.) charge, and will enter upon his duties about the middle of June. '90. Rev. E. E. Blint has accepted the unanimous call to St. Paul's Church, at Littles-town, Pa. He has been assisting Rev. J. G. Goettman, D. D., of Allegheny, Pa., for the past few weeks. 5o THE COLLEGE MERCURY. enter upon his work about June 15th. He will reside in Spring Grove. '90. Mr. Joseph S. Shapley is a charter member of the Delta Chi fraternity recently organized in the Law School of Dickinson College. F-RATEHNITCj MOTES. JOHN J. BRALLIER, Editor. PHI KAPPA PSI. Bro. A. C. Carty, '96, of Frederick, Md., was initiated April 15th. Bro. G. Frank Turner presided as Secretary at the recent District Council held at Philadel-phia. Bro. Schmucker Duncan, who is attending the Yale School of Philosophy, spent a few days in our midst recently. A symposium during Commencement week is proposed by our chapter. The hearty co-operation of our Alumni is solicited. Among the persons chosen as speakers for Senior Class Day Exercises are Bros. F. R. Welty and J. C. Bowers. The former will write the Ivy Poem and the latter will deliver the Ivy Oration. PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bro. Fickinger, '94, has been elected Alumni Editor on the new MERCURY staff. Bro. Knubel, '93, has been chosen as one of the ten Commencement speakers. Bro. J. W. Richard, D- D., '68, has returned from his extended trip abroad and has again entered upon his duties in the Seminary. Bro. Sanford B. Martin, '90, who spent the first week of the present term with his parents in Gettysburg, Pa., has returned to his studies in Yale Law School. The Pennsylvania State Convention of 0 /' J will meet at the Wyandotte Hotel, South Bethlehem, Pa., May 4th and 5th, under the auspices of the Beta Chi (Lehigh) Chapter. Bro. E. E. Blint, who will graduate from the Seminary in June, has accepted a call to the St. Paul's Lutheran Church, Littlestown, Pa. Bro. Blint will be one of the three speakers from the graduating class at Commencement. Bro. D. F. Garland, '88, surprised us re-cently with a short visit. He is much inter-ested in having the musical clubs come to Baltimore, and says we are sure of success. Bro. Garland's chapel will be dedicated on Sunday, May 14th. Bro. Luther De Yoe, '86, also spent a few days with us. PHI DELTA THETA. Bros. English, '94, and Meisenhelder, '97, were initiated on April 8th. Bro. Chas. Reinewald,, of Emmitsburg, Pa., recently spent a few days in our midst. Bro. Lantz, '94, has been elected Business Manager of THE MERCURY, and Bro. Cook, '95, was chosen as one of the Associate Editors of the same journal. Bro. Brallier, '93, will be one of the ten Com-mencement speakers, and has been assigned the Latin Salutatory. Bro. Leitzell, '93, was also elected one of the speakers for Class Day Exercises. Extensive preparations are being made for the accommodation of" Phi's " at the World's Fair. The Boddie brothers, members of Tenn. Alpha, have offered to fit up a nice, large cor-ner room on second floor of their hotel, the Great Western, corner of Jackson and Frank-lin Streets, Chicago, and donate it to the Fraternity as Phi headquarters. This location is in the heart of the city near the depots, Board of Trade, Grand Pacific Hotel, etc., and the generous offer will be accepted. The June number of The Scroll and a World's Fair " extra " will contain notices of interest to all the Phi men who intend to visit the Fair. ALPHA TAU OMEGA. Bro. James P. Michler,' 97, of Easton, Pa.; was initiated March nth, 1893. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 51 Bro. W. L. Ammon, '93, will be one of the speakers for Class Day Exercises during Com-mencement week. . / Y recently received information from Bro. ]I. W. Booth, Chairman of A T ii Fraternity Exhibit, that the proposed general Fraternity Exhibit is likely to collapse. A new official catalogue of all members of A T Q will be out in a short time. The direc-tory is under the efficient management of Bros. Booth and Ehle, of Chicago, and will be a book of great interest as a source of infor-mation to all Alpha Taus. The Fraternity Congress of the World's Fair will meet July 19th and 20th in Memorial Art Palace. This will be the greatest Pan- Hellenic reunion ever assembled. The chief and most important event of the meeting will, a joint session of Fraternity Editors. ATHLETICS. PAUL W. KOLLKR, Editor. BASE-BALL promises well, thirty candi-dates or more having applied for the various positions on the team. Captain Geis has the men in hand and gives them an hour and a half of hard practice every evening. The old men are doing very good work, and many new men are showing up finely. Among the new men the most promising are McCartney, '97, Leisenring, '97, Cook, '95, and Hoffman, '95. Many others show decided base-ball talent, which will be developed as the season progresses. The following is the authentic schedule of games as obtained from Manager Turner : Franklin and Marshall, at Gettysburg. Indian School of Carlisle, at " Dickinson, at " Western Maryland, st Westminster. Bucknell, at Gettysburg. Johns Hopkins, at Gettysburg. State College, at " " at State College. Bucknell, at Lewisburg. April 29th, May 6th, May 10th, May 13th. May 20th, May 30th, June 2d, June 9th, June I oth, A return game will be played with F. and M., date not yet fixed. You will notice from the schedule that a great many of the games arc to be played at Gettysburg; that will demand a hearty support of the team by the boys, and let us not fail to give it. The Freshmen class has organized a base-ball team with Mr. Brown as manager. The Sub-freshmen class has also placed a team in the field with McCartney manager and White captain. Some exciting class games can now be looked for. There is no reason why we should not have more class games, they are very often the means of bringing new men to the front. Mr. Chas. Huber, '92, being unable to de-vote his time to the work, has resigned his position as manager of field and track athletics. Mr. W. O. Nicholas, '94, has been elected to fill the vacancy. Manager Nickolas is now ready to receive entries for the spring athletic contest. This contest is preliminary to the annual athletic games held in Philadelphia. The men who make the best showing will be sent to these games as our representa-tives. We are now a member of the State League, and we trust that our men will endeavor to make as good a showing as possible. The candidates for the foot-ball team will practice once every week for the remainder of the term. The work will consist of run-ning, kicking, falling on and catching the ball, and work of that kind. It is very necessary that some work of this kind be done before the fall term, so that we can devote more time in the fall to perfecting the term work. Everybody seems to have caught the tennis fever. There are at present eleven courts about college, and all of them are occupied most of the time. Manager Hoffer has been working hard to make the annual tournament a success. He is now ready to receive entries. 52 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. All who desire to play in the tournament must hand in their names before May 5th. The entrance fee is 25 cents. Prizes will be given as follows : First prize in the singles will be the finest racket Spalding makes. Second prize, a college sash. The first prize in the doubles will be two tournament rackets. Second prize two fine belts. Three booby prizes will also be given. The tournament is to be played during the first part of Commencement week, and is quite an interesting feature of that inter-esting week. No regular work in the gymnasium is re-quired this term, the entire time being devoted to field sports, which demand all the energy one can muster. The athletic field fund is gradually increas-ing. An effort was made during vacation to increase the fund, but the committee has not yet made a report. The following is the Treasurer's statement of moneys received up to date: STATEMENT OF ATHLETIC FIELD FUND. Previous statement, $185 79 From the following, per F. J. Baum : W. J. Miller, 5 00 Joseph Stulb, 5 00 V. L. Conrad, D. D., j 00 Rev. H. B. Bickel, 50 April 21st, 1893. $201 29 E. S. BREIDENISAUGH, Treasurer. Quite a large and appreciative audience listened to the phonographic entertainment given in Brua Chapel on Saturday, April 22d, by Messrs. Bare, '93, and Newcomer, '95, for the benefit of the base-ball team. The enter-tainment was in every way a success, and the snug sum of $20.50 was realized. Many thanks are due the gentlemen for thus helping athletics and at the same time giving the students and citizens of Gettysburg such a treat. TOWN AND SEMITSTVRy. FLAVIUS HILTON, Editor. SEMINARY. ON Friday, April 14th, the Seminary Faculty announced to the Senior class the subjects for their theses. They are: Luther's Catechism, H. C. Bixler; Christian Asceticism, J. E. Bittle; The National Sun-day- Closing of the World's Exhibition, W. J. Bucher ; Catholicity in Mission Work, E. B. Burgess; the Bible in . the Schools, H. H. Fleck; Apostolicum Controversy, F. S. Geesey; the Present State of Higher Criticism, M. F. Good; Inspiration of the Scriptures, O. H. Gruver; the Relation of the Synagogue to the Church, H. L McGill; St. Paul and Women, W. G. Minnick; Phillips Brooks, S. T. Nicholas; Hawaii, H. C. Reller ; Christian Sociology, U. S. G. Rupp ; Fifty Years of Lutheran Foreign Missions, F. S. Schultz ; Duty of a Christian Man, S. A. Shaulis ; Music in Christianity, L. T. Snyder; Ultramontanism, W. J. Wagner. The Faculty have selected as speakers for the Seminary Commencement, Mr. Edward E. Blint (subject not yet assigned), Mr. J. F. W. Kitzmyer, The Preacher as Pastor; and Mr. G. H. Reen, Responsibility of Christianity for Islam. Thursday, April 13th, Dr. Richard made his first appearance in the class-room of the Seminary after a year's absence in the Father-land. The usual rhetorical exercises, on motion of Mr. Pohlmann, were set aside and the Doctor was then assured of the pleasure the students had in seeing him in his accus-tomed place. At the close of the address of welcome, Dr. Richard gave a hearty response and in the course of his remarks, said that Lutheranism was taught at Gettysburg as purely as in any of the German Universities, and that he was proud of the General Synod Church. His remarks touched upon the political, social, and religious state of Germany, but dwelt particularly upon the political. After the Doctor's response, Dr. Wolf and Dr. Hay gave a few reminiscences of travel in Germany. Dr. Valentine consoled those who do not expect to make such a trip by recalling to mind stay-at-homes who have become illus-trious men. Mrs. Richard then told what Germany looked like through a woman's spectacles. Rev. L. S. Black welcomed the Doctor as "one of his old boys." The meeting THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 53 ■adjourned and a general hand-shaking fol- Bowed. A course of ten lectures on Ecclesiastical Architecture will be delivered next year by Dr. Richard. It will treat of the history and development of Roman, Gothic, and Italian ■Architecture. i The Inter-Seminary Missionary Alliance minutes for 1892 contain a very interesting paper, entitled, " The Pastor and the Foreign ! Field," by G. H. Reen, of the Senior class. J. K. Cook will supply, for the summer, at Floyd Court House, Va., and Mr. E. R. [ McCauley, at Blacksburg, Va. The following supplied vacant pulpits April 16th : F. S. Shultz, Morelville, Pa.; S. A. Schaulis, Huntington; M. F. Good, Man-chester, Pa.; O. H. Gruver, Sparrows Point, Md.; W. J. Wagner, Littlestown, Pa.; F. S. Gusey, near Spring Grove, Pa.; Messrs. Dun-lap and Pohlman, at St. James, Gettysburg. And on the 9th, Messrs. Getty and Schantz, at St. James. Rev.S. Stall, editor of The Lutheran Observer, announced that a prize of #10 would be given for the best article on " The Value of a Church Paper." For the second, $5. The treatment of the subject is at the option of the students. Rev. M. Valentine, D. D., installed Rev. E. Miller, at Easton, April 16th. Dr. Richard secured and brought with him a photo-type reproduction of the Codex Vati-canus, the N. T. original in the Vatican Library, Rome. It is attributed by scholars to the middle of the fourth century, and regarded as the most valuable literary treasure of the world, and until within the last few decades not accessible to scholars. The original Codex is written in small capital Greek on parch-ment sheets, 10 by 12 inches, in three columns of 42 lines each to a page. In 1889 100 copies were made, which were quickly picked up by public libraries and a few private in-dividuals. By the aid of a German book-seller in Rome, Dr. Richard was able to get a copy, which cost 200 fr. It is expected the Seminary Libraiy will secure this treasure from Dr. Richard for the use of the students. This, added to our other valuable N. T manu-scripts, exceedingly enhances our facilities for textual criticism. The process made the copies even more legible than the original, and equal to the original for purposes of study. Among his other acquisitions, the Doctor secured Strype's Memorials of Cranmer (1694), and Heylyrts History of the Reformation in Eng-land (1674). TOWN. The congregation of Christ Church held a reception on the evening of April 17th for Pastor Black. Captain Calvin Gilbert has the contract for furnishing the markers and gun-carriages for the position of the regular troops. In the rearrangement of this Judicial Dis-trict it was attempted to join Adams with York and with Cumberland, who in turn opposed the union. It being expedient to separate Adams and Fulton, the only thing left was to make Adams a separate district, and so was reported from committee. This would do away with our associate judges. The Springs Hotel will not be opened this summer. However, large orders for water are daily received, and bottling has commenced. Gettysburg National Bank stock sold recently at $119 (par, $50); the highest price yet reached. Water stock sold at $23.25 (par, $15)- Gettysburg is indulging its passion for arbu-tus this season, and many there be who gayly travel the intervening 10 miles and seek it. Mrs. Walter chaperoned the Clover Club and their guests on their annual pilgrimage in quest, April 19th. Mr. Shantz, an expert botanist, Mr. McCauley, Mr. Frontz, and Mr. R. B. Wolf, all of the Seminary, formed the gentlemen of the party. At the meeting of the Masonic Lodge on the evening of the 17th ult, called for the con-sideration of a market-house and a town hall project, $20,000 worth of stock was taken and a site on West Middle Street, selected on the lots of Ed. McPherson and Mrs. Weaver. An architect was employed to furnish plans. April 17th a crowd of Italians arrived, and were put to work on the bed of the electric road. They commenced near the Peach Orchard. Poles for the trolley have been strewn along the streets. The company has secured the lots on which Wible's Warehouse and adjoining buildings stood for the location of the power-house. The buildings will be re- 54 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. moved immediately. The citizens are contract-ing for electric lights in places of business and private houses. Twelve double-decker cars, each with a trailer, will be put on, giving a capacity for 2,000 passengers per hour. All separate departments of the enterprise are re-quired to be finished by the end of June. ' Mr. Tipton furnished a large assortment of photographs for the Massachusetts and New York exhibits at the World's Fair. It is ex-pected that Pennsylvania and Ohio will engage similar collections. William Lochren, Mr. Cleveland's nominee for Commissioner . of Pensions, visited the battle-field on April 10th. Lawrence Heim and Archibald Mackrell, two of Pittsburgh's representatives at Harris-burg, viewed the field a few days ago. Quartermaster Hiram Hayes and wife, of Wisconsin, were here last week. LITE-RTVRy SOCIETIES. NIELS L. J. GRON, Editor. THE most active society men are now busily engaged in securing new members for their respective society. The members of the sub-freshmen class are the victims against whom the arrows of persuasion and exhorta-tion are aimed. He who desires to rise by stepping on the heads of others will soon be hurled to the ground; the man who wishes to illumine his own society by casting shadows upon his opponents will soon find that his effort has been expended in the wrong direc-tion. If you work for Phrena., do not depreciate Philo., if you are at Philo. then do not fail to give Phrena., at least, her dues. Though there may be some advantage in canvassing new students, explaining and deeply impressing upon them the merits of your so-ciety, yet a much more effective plan would be to see that all of the performances in the society show evidence of diligent preparation and then extend a hearty and cordial invita-tion to new students to attend your sessions. A student who desires to reap all the ad-vantage possible during his four fleeting col-lege years should commence society work at an early period of his course, but before he permits his name to be proposed in either so-ciety he should by all means be sure to visit both, during their regular sessions, at least] once, but better twice. Young men, do not] listen to persuasive tongues nor let your eye I be captivated by richly adorned walls; let the members and their methods of work appeal to your reason and then follow its dictation. This year and hereafter the Inter-Society Oratorical contest between members of the | Junior class will be held during Commence-ment week. The contestants are already be-1 ginning to prepare for the battle and we antici-pate a treat which shall do great credit to the literary abilities of the societies. May not Gettysburg Literary Society mem-| bers soon aspire to even higher honors ? Whyi not enter the arena of the Inter-Collegiate I Oratorical League, which we understand is | just now being formed? PHILO. NOTES. At the first business meeting of this term, I Philo. elected her portion of the editorial staff I of THE MERCURY, she also elected the following officers : President, Dundore; Vice-President, Fickinger; Corresponding Secretary, Allison, Jr.; Recording Secretary, Reitz; Treasurer, Kempfer; Assistant Librarian, Nicholas; Sub-scriber for papers, Mattern. On the evening I of April 21st, a most instructive and entertain-ing programme was rendered. It was the first of I the four authors' evenings of which we have' previously spoken. Lord Tennyson and his works were the subject for contemplation as I usual, selections on the piano was a part of I the programme. The interest which these] authors' evenings seem to arouse among Philo.'s members is largely due to the efforts of the Committee on Arrangements, of which Mr. John Hoy Kuhns is the chairman. Messrs. J. Enniss and Russel Auckerman, '97; have been introduced as active members | of Philo. PHRENA. NOTES. At the first regular meeting of this term, the following were elected to represent Phrena. on the staff of THE MERCURY : Business | Manager, B. R. Lantz, '94; Associate Editors, Wright, Maynard, Clare, and Cook, '95. Shimer, '95, is prevented from returning to| college on account of failing health. He con-f I templates taking up medicine at University 011 Pennsylvania as soon as he is able. i ADVERTISEMENTS. in Wanamaker's. Sporting goods of every sort. Sporting wear of every sort—Coats, [Trousers, Caps and such a gathering of Shoes for every indoor or outdoor game [as was never before seen in America. And Wanamaker prices—as low as [anybody's, very likely lower than any-where else. ATALANTA was the swiftest girl of antiquity. The myth has come true to-day in a Wheel. Our ATALANTA is a Bicycle as fast, as strong, as simple as any on the market; faster, stronger, simpler, safer, better than most of the "first-class" machines. And lighter—weight 30^ lbs. But the best part is the price—$120 for a bang-up $150 Bicycle ! JOHN WANAMAKER. SEND FOR CATALOGUE OF FOR youfSG I^DTSS, NEAR BALTIMORE, MD, This widely known, thoroughly equipped, and extensively patronized School will open its 41st Annual Sesson, Sept. 13th, 1893. All the Departments of a High Grade Seminary. Address, Rev. J. H. TURNER, A. M., Principal, LUTHERVILLE, MD. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. CHJ^LLES s. DUfiCRfl, '82, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW, Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CHHS. E. STRHLtE, '87, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. DR. CHAS, B, STOUFFER, OFFICE, STAR AND SENTINEL BUILDING, GETTYSBURG. PA. fiber's Dril2 Store, Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. Prescriptions Carefully Compounded. matest Styles \r\ flats, Shoes, AND Gents' Furnishings, R. M. ELLIOTT'S. N. B.—Stiff Hats made to Fit the Head in two minutes. A. D. BUEHLER&CO., Headquarters for B©@I^s a^d Brags, Stationery and Blank Books. LOWEST CASH PRICES- IV ADVERTISEMENTS. Absolute Evenness of Touch, Richness and Brilliancy of Tone,] Extraordinary Singing Quality, Unequaled Workmanship, Power of Standing in Tune longer than any other Piano| made, are among the characteristic qualities of DECKER BROS. PIAfiOS 33 Union Square, ^eua York. Used in Philo. Hall at Pennsylvania College. GO TO C.A.BLOCHER'S Jeuielpy Stove fop Souvenir ^ Spoons, ^ Sword Pins, &c. DEEKA Fine Stationery and Engraving House, 1121 Chestnut St., Philadelphia. Post Office Corner, Centre Square. WEDDING INVITATIONS VISITING CARDS BANQUET MENUS DIPLOMAS AND MEDALS COLLEGE INVITATIONS i CLASS STATIONERY SOCIETY STATIONERY PROGRAMMES, BADGES STEEL PLATE ENGRAVING FOR FRATERNITIES, CLASSES AND COLLEGE ANNUALS. All work is executed in the establishment under the personal supervis-ion of Mr. Dreka, and only in the best manner. Unequaled facilities and long practical experience enable us to produce the newest styles and most artistic effects, while our reputation is a guarantee of the quality of the productions of this house. ADVERTISEMENTS. R. H. REININGER, Merchant * * * Tailor. * * THE BEST WORK AT THE LOWEST PRICES. Suits from $12.00 to $40.00. Pants from $4.00 to $12.00. NEXT DOOR TO POST OFFICE, UP-STAIRS. CENTRAL SQUARE. PETE THORNE, Shaving $ Hair Cutting Parlors. FIKST eUASS 7VRT1STS. CENTRAL SQUARE. FLEMMING & TROXEL, Billiard AND Pool "Rooms. BALTIMORE STREET. RfHOS ECKEHT, DEALER IN Hats, Shirts, Shoes, Ties, Umbrellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, Pocket Books, Trunks, Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc. AMOS ECKERT. SPECIAL* TO STUDENTS. Fine Tailoring. JOSEPH JACOBS, Merchant Tailor, Chambersburg Street, (Below Eagle Hotel) GETTYSBURG, PA. Red Front Cigar Store R. H. RUPP, Proprietor. j4o. 8 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. The place for a fine Cigar or a good chew. Solid Havana filler, 5 for 25c. An elegant article. A FINE ASSORTMENT OF PIPES AND SMOKING MIXTURES. VI ADVERTISEMENTS. ESTABLISHED 1876. PE/NKOSE MgEKS, VV/dTcnndrcER s» JEWELER. Liafge Stock of tliatehes, Clocks, Jeuuelpy, etc., on Hand. GETTYSBURG SOUVENIR SPOONS. COLLEGE SOUVENIR SPOONS. That IVHO BUYS HIS BASE BALL, . BICYCLE, . . LAWN TENNIS 10 BALTIMORE STREET", GETTYSBURG, PA. Students' Headquarters IS AT J. R. STINE & SON'S CLOTHING STORE The Cheapest Clothing and-Gents' Furnishings in Gettysburg. CUTINQ, YACHTING AND BOATING SUPPLIES, MERCHANT TAILORING A SPECIALTY. COME AND SEE US. J. R. STINE & SON, THE LEADING CLOTHIERS, MAIN STREET, GETTYSBURG, RA. ELSEWHERE . THAN AT . A. Q. SPALDING & BROS. CHICAGO, NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA, ToSMsulison ft. 243 Broadway, 1032 Chestnut St. DnTTLEFIELD LlVEKT. Rear of Washington House, Opposite W. M. R. R. Depot. GETTYSBURG, PA. . ^Mfe All Kinds of Teams. Good Riding Horses. -:o:- The Battlefield a Specialty, With First-Class Guides. DAVID McCLEARY, Prop

The Mercury November, 1909 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. Mak^« °f CAPS AND GOWNS To Gettysburg College, Lafayette, Lehigh, Dickinson, State College, Univ. of PeMi -ylvania, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods of Degrees To The Class of '10. We have begun our college campaign for next Spring and Summer. Over 25,000 employers look to Hapgoods for their men in sales, offices and technical positions in all departments. Most of these Arms use college men. They arrange with us to cover the en ire college world for them. We have a unique preposition of in mediate interest to any college man who will be open for a propo-sition. Let us tell you about it. Write to-day. TXL _,_^ _j c^ 17^ ,-~ " TIM JVJtTJOJVJJ, ORGJJYMZJITtOJV Of HfipGrOQEltB, BMUMM- BUOHMUBS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. -/i/very G-ttaartea. B. B. Cqwoll, Proprietor. All our drugs aud chemicals are sold to you under a positive guarantee, pure and full strength. H. C. LANDAU, DRUGGIST. EVERYTHING A FIRST CLASS Drug Store should have Opposite Eagle Hotel. lfm0Vmmt*f^mt^mftlwt^n GETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. - LIBRARY - I WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 18S7 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. HUMMELSTOWN BROWN STONE COMPANY QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Waltonville, Duphin Co., Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK Telegraph and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visiting quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs —GO TO— TIPTON The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. D. J. REILE, Clothing, Gent's Furnishings Sole Agent for the CRAWFORD SHOES, 13-15 Ohambersburg St. Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— HARRY B. SEFTON'S BARBER SHOP 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. R. E. ZINN & BRO. DEALERS IN Groceries and Choice Provisions. Carlisle St., Gettysburg. THE GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of ' HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. * 2 a, ft ft * « « » » *w ft *« a * * «« ft * ft ft .-■> a» * « Seligniqq ARE GETTYSBURG'S MOST RELIABLE TAILORS And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. Give Them a « »»« *««* » « ft Your Patronage * « *»« » a »« »a * » «» ft ** ft »« « « ft «««»« * « ft « e» ft « ** »« « «« «« « ft * » « ft »* PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. A Special Proposition Is open for the first person ID any com-munity who will deal with us for a Piano or Organ. WEAVER ORGANS AND PIANOS have no question mark to the quality. I IIII I .__ _ _ Z WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, I YORK, PA , U S A. MAIL THIS COUPON TO US. Send me special proposition for the purchase of a Piano. Name Address m * .-I-. •I" •■!•■ T\ •*■ ± Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AND GENT'S FURNISHINGS. Sole Agent for WALK -OVER SHOES ECKERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right He Lutheran PubliGatiori Society No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt. THE [UIERCORV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER, 1909 No. 6 CONTENTS. THE WBONG OP WASTE 2 DAVID M. CRIST, '10. FEESCOING A LOST ART 3 ELMER STOUFFER, '11. A HALLOWE'EN STOEY 7 SAMUEL BOWER, '10. THE VOTEE'S DOMINANT PBINCIPLES: WHAT THEY SHOULD BE 12 ROT V. DERR, '10. IS GEEMANY A MENACE TO THE WORLD'S PEACE? 15 C. M. ALLABACH, '11. A NAEEOW ESCAPE 16 R. L. MCNALLY, '13. THE "BACK HOME" BOY 20 EDWIN C. MORROW, '12. THE EVOLUTION OP THE BEAST 22 EDWARD N. FRYE, '10. THE SPIEIT OP THE PLACE 24 HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, '10. EDITORIALS '. 29 EXCHANGES 31 GETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. | - LIBRARY - I THE MERCURY. THE WRONG OF WASTE. DAVID M. CRIST, '10. jO the contemplative mind one of the saddest things in the world is the waste that is going on, and has gone on ever since civilization dawned. Much of this waste is wretched, needless, wicked; it means human efforts thrown away; it is one form of homicide for it sacrifices life and the material that life thrives on, and thus it hampers progress. What does a grain of corn amount to? Nothing, we hear the wasteful man say. Yet the secretary of agriculture of Missouri computes that one grain on every ear of corn grown in his State alone would add one hundred thousand dollars to the wealth of the State each year. We have all been told what a large sum the saving of a few cents a day will amount to, if allowed to roll up for a period of years, yet we all go through life really unmindful of the possi-bilities there are in such little things. A Kansas statistician has recently figured that the men of that State are constantly wearing on their coat sleeves eighty thousand dollars worth of buttons which serve no earthly use. It is easy enough, of course, to over do economy and make it ridiculous, and it is often most difficult to say whether a given policy is wasteful or economical. In this country our railroads work their locomotives very hard, and wear them out in a few years, whereas in England locomotives are used very carefully, and are kept in service several times as long. The English blame our railroads for being wasteful in this, whereas our au-thorities hold that it is better to get the best wear out of any ma-chine in a reasonable time, and then scrap-heap it, and replace it with something newer and better. Large scale producers such as the Carnegie Steel Company of Pittsburg, have owed their success in no small degree to their lavish expenditures, or industrial experiments, and for the in-stallation of new machinery as soon as its superiority to that in use has been demonstrated. So ideas to what is waste will differ. Unquestionably we are wasting our coal, oil, natural gas, and THE MERCURY. 6 timber supplies in this country, but under the conditions it does not pay to husband these material resources. A few years ago the world became alarmed because its fuel supply seemed to be coming to an end. Now, we are harnessing the rivers, water-falls, and even the glaciers, and making them do much of the work that coal hitherto has done. There is no small doubt that before the coal supply is ex-hausted the world will be so completely electrified that the use of coal will have become obsolete. The waste of timber is more serious, and yet as lumber rises in price other materials will be developed to take its place, witness the present rapid introduc-tion of concrete for building purposes. This country would not be what it is if it had been developed UDcler such a saving policy as has necessarily dominated the rise of European nations, so it would be well for us to remember the words of Benjamin Franklin when he said: "What maintains one vice would bring up two children. Eemember many a little makes a nickle. and farther, beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship." FRESCOING A LOST ART. ELMER STOUFFER, '11. EW people realize that the frescos which they see on the walls of buildings are the remnants of a once great art. An art which for the number of men who were engaged at it and scope of application never had an equal. The history of this great form of art is long and of itself interesting to read. It is not the purpose in this article to give the history beyond what is necessary to the illustration of the subject in hand. It shall be our purpose to discuss the art as we know it, and the methods of the frescoer of to-day. It is claimed by many that the art of frescoing was known to the ancient Egyptians, but this is doubtful. If they knew any-thing at all about it, it could not have been more than enough THE MERCURY. •to cover the walls of their houses with the crudest and coarsest kinds of earth colors mixed with water. True one can find buildings decorated in patterns which are supposed to be genu-ine reproductions of ideas found on the walls of Egyptian ruins, but the methods of getting these actual designs are never told. The whole is fanciful and not certain enough to receive much consideration. The Greeks were familiar with the art of fres-coing but the extent to which they developed the art is uncer-tain. The excavations of Schlieman have brought forth some old decorated pieces of walls which were thought to be frescoes, but careful examination has shown them to be mere earth colors applied in various designs. The Hebrews it is certain knew nothing of frescoing. It was not until the beginning of the Christian era that the art rose to its fullest development. The Christian artist wanted an art which would properly express the emotions. The stirring scenes of the early Christian times were the subjects for the •church decorator to work upon. The art which he would use must be able to express faith, hope, joy, sorrow, grief, pain and things of that nature. Sculpture, the art of the Greeks, would not answer his purpose for that is essentially an art of repose. Frescoing seemed the only one capable of answering his purposes so he employed it. Even then the early decorator was held in check by ecclesiastical interference. In decorating the churches he was not permitted, even though he had the impulse, to use any type not traditional. For this reason we find nearly all the fres-coes of this period consist of the gaunt, pinched bodies of an-chorites and saints. In the sixteenth century this art reached its highest state of development. In this period some of the world's most famous frescoers lived, and some of the most noted frescoers were executed. Several of the works produced in this period are extant to this day. The wave of Iconoclast fanaticism which swept over Europe in the sixteenth century struck the art a blow from which it has never wholly recovered. In England nearly all the paintings were destroyed. In some churches they were merely defaced, hut in those churches where the frescoes could not be destroyed without permanently injuring the buildings, the despoilers cov- THE MERCURY. «red them up with lime. On the continent of Europe the hatred was not so intense, and it is doubtful whether any works of real value were destroyed. It is true, however, that when the Icono-clastic wave had swept away, the art was practically dead. In America very little is known about frescoing. Our near-est approach to it are the distemper paintings with which we decorate our theatres and churches. Several reasons might be mentioned for this, but the most reasonable seems to be that Americans are too impatient to apply themselves to a trade in which the first and chief requisite is painstaking precision. The Americans as a class are too much in a hurry to take the time which it is necessary to do a good work of frescoing. The aver-age American does not care what a piece of work costs but he invariably does want his work done at once. So little interest is taken in the art in America that not one color manufacturer is to be found who so much as manufacture the kind of color which mural decorators use. The American decorator must depend upon the shops of Germany for the colors which he uses. German workshops also supply America with her supply of deco-rators. Frescoing as clone in former times required a great deal more skill than it does to-day. The work was all done while the plaster was still soft. The decorator decided in the morning just about how much surface he wished to cover that day. The plasterer, who worked right with him, then finished that much. With a sharp pointed awl or some other instrument the deco-rator then marked the design in the plaster, and proceeded to his task. Sometimes a small design of the work in hand was made and kept lying by to refer to in case the decorator became puz-zled as to how to proceed. The necessity of this can readily be seen when one remembers that some of the great works of this kind were fifteen and sometimes twenty years in the accomplish-ment. If all which was marked could not be done in the day the plasterer cut the unfinished portion off and they began all over again. An almost perfect knowledge of pigments was ab-solutely essential to the decorator of the old time. Lime in dry-ing causes many colors to fade and some to become darker. It was necessary for the mechanic to know just what effect the lime tf**ftiufvrxv GETTYSBURG COLLEGE * Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 10 THE MEBCURY. "An unlucky spot," sighed Proud Patrick. "He ain't the first, nor thirteenth to be tuk tar." Hattie came running in with the holy water bottle and Mis-tress Proud Patrick eagerly bathed poor Oiney's head. As the cold drops fell showering upon his face Oiney winced in spite of himself. "The color is comin' to his cheeks," said Hattie as she knelt over him solicitously. "The fire is warmin' him. He's comin' roun' all right." "God be thanked for holy water bottle said Mrs. Proud Pat-rick. "Let's raise him up a bit," said Del. "An' a drop of nice warm sweet milk with a pinch o' ginger and sugar might do the poor fello' good," said Hattie. "Bether couldn't be," said Del. "An' a bowl o' tea," added Chris. "An' a drop o' spirits," said Joe. At this insinuation a perceptible glow over-spread the features of the unconscious one and to the delight of Del and eve^one there, a sigh escaped his lips. "God be thanked," said Hattie. Del bent over his patient and softly whispered, "Oiney." Oiney slowly opened his eyes and looked wonderingly and in-quiringly about him. "Del—is—is—thet—you ?" "Yis, yis, me darlint." "Del—where an' where can I be?" "Make yer min' aisy, ye are in a dacent house an' with dacent folks. Mister Proud Patrick and Mistress and Hattie McPher-son. Del then asked for a drop of whiskey and tried to persuade Oiney to take it but he refused. "Just a drop," said Del. "Only a toothful," said Mrs. Proud Patrick," and take it as medicine. It'll send the blood through yer veins." But Oiney looked gratefully at Mrs. Proud Patrick and ten-derly at Hattie, but still refused to touch the whiskey. The patient grew rapidly stronger on the beef tea which was THE MEKCURY. 11 tendered by loving hands and thanked the whole family for the trouble they had gone to in his behalf. "But ah, ye knows I can't be kapin' ye dacent folk out o' bed all night—it's almost mornin' now." "Oh, that's all right," volunteered Hattie. "It's no bother an' as to me uncle an' aunt, there, they can go to bed any time now seein' ye are on the fair way to mendin' yerself; an' me an' Eosie-an' Matthew 'ill tarry a while an' git ye somethin' to eat." "Uncle," she continued, "you an' me aunt can now take yer-selves off to bed seein' poor ill Oiney here is gettin' along bet-ter. Myself an' Eosie an' Matthew 'ill take care of him jes as good as if you was here." So with more thanks Oiney bade them good night and wished them a sound sleep and pleasant dreams, and assured them he would never forget their timely generosity. Then Hattie warmed some sweet milk and supported Oiney while he drank it. He was soon sufficiently strengthened to make his way to the fireside with the help of Hattie and Eosie, where he and Hattie sat down together. Oh, I'm ever so glad you're comin' roun' so fast," Said Hattie. "Faith an' I know the doctor I'm thankin' for the same," re-plied Oiney, his eyes beaming upon her. "Och, don't bother me Oiney, it's a poet you should a' been born—you've a tongue as sweet as any poet's." "Well, it's no poet you should a' been born, darlin' but in the Garden of Aiden." "Array, go way with ye." "Yis. in the Garden of Aiden, when man was alone an' com-fortless." "But the Bible never mentioned Adam takin' 'fever gortach," and Oiney reflected. "Oh, Adam would a' got it some how if he had a thot that it would a brot you in its wake." "Houl on Oiney. Take yer arm away out o' that. Take it away. Tre' ain't no danger o' my takin' waikness—no fear of it." "An' thr' all blamin' poor Adam 'cause he ate the apple"— went on Oiney, philosophical!}', gazing into the fire, still keeping ^■^■i^^n^^^^^^^^^^^H 12 THE MERCURY. his arm across her as if absentmindedly. "I know well if I was Adam an' some people I know was Eve, an' that if this partick-ler Eve offered me the same size o' rat pizen and sayed, Here Adam, my sweet, take this, its good, I'd swallowed it an' swared it was honey." "My, what a nice fellow you'd make for the lucky woman that gits ye," said Hattic. "But will ye take away yerself an' take yer arm out o' thet." "Oh," said Oiney in surprise. "Is that where my arm is?" Yet absentmindedly he went on philosophizing upon man's lonely lot had not God given him lovely woman to be a joy and a blessing forever. Del whiled away the early morning hours for Eosie, the maid, and poor Chris and Joe Eegan smoked their pieces of pipe. When the gray dawn began to filter through the blackness of the night, Hattie and Eosie who now had to begin their day's work, bade their sweethearts a merry good-bye after promising to meet them on Sunday evening at the Crooked Bridge. THE VOTER'S DOMINANT PRINCIPLES SHOULD BE. WHAT THEY ROY V. DERR, '10. .NDIVIDUAL right of franchise is the heart of a demo-cratic government. The stability and perpetuity of a nation such as ours depend upon the righteous use of the ballot-box j while corruption and dissolution are the fruit of its abuse. The right to vote becomes a cherished privi-lege by the young man as he approaches twenty-one. At this point a searching question confronts him. Will he be influenced by seductive tradition and paternal inheritance? Will he con-tinue to cast his vote as father always did? Or will he permit his privilege to be directed by certain guiding principles? This is the vital question. When one thinks of the untutored multi-tudes who become the prey of scheming politicians, it becomes an THE MERCURY. 13 important question. But what should these dominant motives, of action be? If our voter is a man of any education or good judgment, he will seek to have a general knowledge of the country's condition and needs. He aims to know the issues at stake, and the plat-form of his chosen party with regard to them. Why ? That he may decide whether the candidate in question is fully qualified for the position. In other words he will endeavor to vote intel-ligently. Not merely boasting a long ancestry who were stal-wart Democrats or life-long Eepublicans. Very often such a spirit is but ignorant pride and betrays the lack of intelligence and reason. The voter should not only be able to state his party,, but also to tell why it is his preference. But the careful voter will not stop with an investigation into the ability of the candidate to fill the duties of office. He goes further and deeper. He will seek to know the aspiring office seeker as a man. What is his character? A man of self-con-trol and integrity ? Will he prove faithful to the trust ? These questions must be answered affirmatively by the conscientious voter. Strict sense of civic duty demands nothing less. The loyal citizen will not cast his vote for incompetent or unworthy men out of mere favor or friendly acquaintance. To do so weak-ens the dictates of his moral conscience. The highest motives should control our franchise; the prosperity of the State, the-welfare of the community, and the best interests' of all concerned. This is true loyalty and genuine patriotism. Above all, for the thoughtful man the dominant principle will be party subordinate to the man. Some one may ask would not such universal independent voting destroy political parties? They are essential to counter-balance one another in government. In answer the true voter will use his influence in securing the best men on the party ticket of his preference, if for some reason these are not chosen, but undesirable nominees instead, the strict sense of civic duty will compel him to refuse to vote for those men. Partisanship must bow before right and duty. Prejudice and tradition must yield to justice and intelligence. It is bet-ter to cut one's ticket and prove traitor to one's party than to iise one's franchise in voting for incompetent or unworthy men. Then he will have nothing to regret. L GETTYSBURG COLLEGEI Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY ^^^■^^^^B^^^H 14 THE MERCURY. Who is to blame for corruption in politics? For partisan legislation and bad government? Those holding office we say. But our nation is a democracy! We boast of the rule of the-people! The boomerang springs back upon the voter himself. Corrupt legislation reflects itself upon the public at large. If office holders prove unloyal to their country's trust, it shows that the voters were not careful enough to elect the best men. This situation is but a practical application of the fable in which the indulgent master gives shelter, under his tent, to the imploring ass who in turn ungratefully kicks him out! What, then, should be the voter's dominant principles? To serve his country and State, not only party and self. To know the needs and conditions of his nation or community. To elect the man best fitted to fill the position, that is the man of capabil-ity and character. The former involves the ability to discharge his duties well and efficiently. The latter includes those quali-ties of honesty and integrity as will enable the office holder to stand fearlessly against bribery, partiality or injustice. Such is the type of man whom the true voter will strive to elect. So long as the right of franchise is jealously guarded and highly prized, there will be no need to fear the downfall of our repub-lic. But she shall ascend higher as a moving power in the eyes of the civilized world. Her destiny will not approach soon, but with the oncoming years, she shall exert an untold influence-among the nations of the world. THE MERCURY. 15 IS GERMANY A MENACE TO THE WORLD'S PEACE ? C. M. ALLABACH, '11. T can hardly be denied by those who have noticed the trend of international politics that Germany is the greatest obstacle to the world's peace to-day. This has become strikingly evident in recent years. Diplomatic relations between the English and Germans have been strained for more than a decade. The famous Kruger tele-gram of 1896, the intense commercial rivalry, the hostile attitude of the German people during the Boer War, the biting criticism of the press, and finally, the manifest intention of Germany to wrest from Great Britain her maritime supremacy, have all com-bined to make the situation critical. To England, this mari-time supremacy is a matter of life and death; to Germany, it is an object of mere desire or ambition. Examples of German aggressiveness are numerous. The first American experience of it was in the Samoan Islands in 1888, and a second in 1898, when Germany sent a powerful fleet to the Philippine Islands. Japan felt it in 1895 when Germany joined Russia and France in forcing her to recede from the Liao-Tung Peninsula which bore no small weight in furthering and hasten-ing the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War. All Europe and America was unfavorably impressed by the attitude of the Ger-mans in the Boxer uprising. Then, too, it is generally known that Germany took the initiative in the Venezuelan blockade in 1M2, and since the power of Russia has been considerably les-sened by the Russo-Japanese War, the Germans appear to be even more aggressive than before. These actions truly speak louder than words, but the words are not lacking either. The German Kaiser's speeches are teeming with expressions which clearly reveal the German attitude. Among many others he said at Cologne in 1897: "We have great duties in the world. There are Germans everywhere whom we must protect. German prestige must be preserved abroad. The trident belongs in our hands." In 1900, upon delegating to Prince Henry the command of the Oriental fleet, he said: "Im-perial power is sea power. The two are mutually dependent. 16 THE MERCURY. Should anyone infringe our rights, then use the mailed fist and earn your laurel wreath." To departing soldiers he used such terms as these: "Spare nobody." "Take no prisoners." "Give no quarter." Such expressions are not the mere workings of an individual's maind, but are the sentiments of a nation expressed through its chief executive. It is true, too, that Germany is the greatest obstacle to the policy of limitation of armaments and obligatory arbitration. It was with great difficulty that the German government was per-suaded to consent to the establishment of the permanent Court of Arbitration. She opposed nearly every policy advocated by England. She held strict views of belligerant rights and voted against every specific proposal of obligatory arbitration. The Germans have rejected the advances since made by the English to enter upon an Anglo-German understanding concern-ing the cost and extent of their naval programs, claiming that no formal proposal has been made and therefore no official transac-tions have followed. Since Germany was not in harmony with the proposals of the Hague Conference, there seems to be but one remedy to check the steadily growing martial spirit of the sturdy Germans, namely, an alliance between the two greatest branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, England and America. Unless some such alliance is formed, the law of "the survival of the fittest" will be the outcome; of which the fittest is the strongest, the best or-ganized, and the most unscrupulous. A NARROW ESCAPE. R. L. MCNALLY, '13. JHNEAKEY was feeling blue that night as we sat together in the lobby of The Eoyal. He awaiting the arrival of a certain well-padded person, whom he pleased to call his victim,—and very impressibly informed me would be his last one,—while I was trying to pass away the night of idleness. Sneakey started to tell me all about his intended re- THE MERCURY. 17 form, and was in the midst of a "profound resolve" with his fist in the air intending to bring it down on the handle of my chair, when the arrival of a ponderous white steam car arrested his at-tention and without a sign or signal he arose from where he sat walked over to the door where the fat and hearty autoist would have to enter. Only once did he glance back at me, and then very quickly. I thought 1 noticed a shade of distress in that glance, but dismissed the thought of the fact that Sneakey, above all, would ever shrink from a job. Sneakey followed this particular individual over to the desk and watched him register, lighting a cigarette in a cool and un-interested fashion, but carefully noticing in his mind the rooms to be occupied by this person. He didn't return to where I was sitting, a very wise thing on his part, but strolled over to the bil-liard room, where fifteen minutes later, I found him actively en-gaged in a game with a stately looking, shifting-eyed sport. I walked on through and out on the street, took a car, and was soon in my room snugly seated in my large chair, planning, and thinking I had spotted a large elegantly finished mansion across the park, occupied solely by an old gentleman of eccentric habits. his brother, two house maids, and a general utility man. Next morning after breakfast I strolled across the park to in-vestigate my intended loot and map out a course that would be sure to bring me safely to my goal. I bought a paper afterwards and nothing could be printed clearer, nor more prominent to me than the little three-lined announcement that Sneakey, the one and only friend I had to depend upon, had been intercepted in an attempt to enter the rooms of a wealthy guest and was being held for trial. Of all the news, this was the most distressing. But what could I do but accept it as a present from our dreaded enemies, the plain clothes men. I did not know what to do for tools, and to attempt such a task alone would be almost fool-hardy, and Sneakey's presence was an excellent solution to both of these quanderies. But, since he was taken into the strong arms of the police, I could do nothing else than depend on luck. It was now 10.30 A. M., and I thought I might run across an old acquaintance, but there was none I could think of, let alone trust as an accomplice. After dinner I made a list of what I t^^^m^^^m 18 THE MERCURY. was in need of and among the things I needed most was a pair of wire nippers in case I would need them. Now I knew that Sneakey had a pair so I walked over to his room, having to pass the seat of my night's work, and picked the lock. Hanging across the back of a chair was a coat made up with the lining of a smoking jacket. I quickly realized its value and took it over to a tailor's and ordered it pressed, and put into proper shape. In the pocket of this coat I found a cigar which I took as a charm for my safety because I found it in the pocket of the most valuable tool I could have possibly came across. Placing the cigar carefully in my pocket the next thing to do was to get a mate at all hazzards. Scotty kept a rather notable pool room where I had been in the habit of spending some time and where I knew I could find a collection of choicest men of my profession. On entering I could hardly believe myself when who should step up and shake my hand but Harry Musser. I hadn't seen him for years, and why, I'm sure, is not because he had fallen into the same ill luck as Sneakey. I told him all of my plans and asked him to go along and help "cinch it," but woe for my hopes; he had a job on hand at White Flains, and was leaving that night on the 11.30 boat to ge to White Plains about 2 A. M., and be safe from all view to carry out his aim. Well, this was the last hope, and I decided to go alone. I saw Harry off and returning to my room put on the coat nicely tailored, and walked across the park and on around to the rear entrance of this house. Just as I entered the hedge I heard West Hall Hedge clock strike one. Walking up to the porch I started operations by climbing the vine, since I had to dispense with Sneakey's excellent tact of pitching a rope ladder. Gaining the level of the window sill I swung across and caught hold of the sill and hung suspended until I could grasp the shutter and pull myself up so that I could place my foot against the opposite side of the window frame and gradually work myself up inch by inch until I was standing on the sill holding on to the shutters. I was starting to work on the win-dow when I heard somebody walking on the pavement. When he got opposite the place where I was he stopped, lit a cigar and gazing aimlessly about, turned his steps and walked up the gravel walk and sat down on the porch almost under me and smoked. THE MERCURY. 19 After about fifteen minutes I did not see or hear him stir, and concluded he was asleep. Much was my chagrin when I found the window pulled up tight against the upper frame. To get in was almost impossible, and to get back to where I came from, was impossible. I had to decide some way. I knew that it would be safer to get out through the house than to get past that night watchman below, so taking a small finger-nail clip from my pocket, I dig two crescent shaped holes in the window frame, and placing my fingers in them bent all my effort toward pulling it down. It yielded, and carefully lowering it, I climbed in, down on the floor and I thought noislessly over to view my room in general, when all of a sudden, the lights were turned on brightly and a small buz sounded on the wall which I knew was a signal. Then locating the door, I made for it, but was barred by a huge porpous of a man whom I concluded was the butler. I had to pass him to liberty, and being much smaller, knew a struggle would be useless. I waited until he charged, then side-stepping I gave him a lucky stroke in the stomach. He wasn't long in the fight. Throwing my hat in a corner, I ran my fingers through my hair, put the coat inside out, the cigar in my mouth, ran down to the front door, to escape, preparing lest the police should arrive before I got away. Two officers were coming down the pavement at a good speed. I did not know what to do in so-tight a place. I decided to use strategy, so assuming a horrified expression, I called to them that here was the place, and ex-plained that the old gentleman had became suddenly worse, and that I was sent by him to bring his son, who lived some distance-from the house. That story wasn't believed in full by them, and! they decided to go along with me to bring his son. The two fol-lowed me for a square, and then stopping, I reasoned that two of them should go back to the old man, and assist the butler in car-ing for him, while the other officer and I went for the son. To this they agreed, and we two sped, where, I did not know until, reaching into the pocket of this coat, my hand fell upon the wire nippers. I just happened to think of Sneakey. I knew he wouldn't be in his room so I made a short cut there and pound-ing on the door received no reply, until a doctor next door put his head outside the door and informed us that that gentleman mi^^^^^^^^^^^^mwg^^^^^^^^^^^^^m 20 THE MEECUET. had left yesterday morning and had not returned yet. Now I knew to go along back to the house would mean my arrest so I told the officer that he should go on back to assist the other officer and the butler, while I awaited until this doctor would dress and go along with me, that we would follow in a few moments. When the officer left, I feigning that I intended to wait, followed after him down to the street level and proceded over by a back street to my rooms. Next day I learned of Sneakey's sentence of two years and went around, packed up his furniture to store it. In the pro-cess of this packing I was assisted by this doctor who told me of the very strange call he had last night. THE "BACK HOME" BOY. EDWIK C. HOBBOW, '12. EE we, the great American people, interested in the farmer boy? "We are. Why should the attention of the richest, most commercial nation of the earth turn to the humble youth of sunburnt face and freckled nose "back home ?" There are several conspiring reasons which cause the lines of national interest to deflect from their normal course toward that obscure spot on the map where is growing to man-hood the average country boy. One of the first reasons, perhaps, is to be found in the fact that he is "the boy back home." Somebody has said, "God made the country, but man made the town." Well, what man made the town? It was the man from the country; and it is the man from the country who is making the town grow and prosper to-day. It is from the hay-field rather than from the gutter; from the garden rather than from the crowded quarters of the town, that men are being drafted to fight the great battle of the world's market place and public halls. The bulk of brains, the brawn, and the character of this country has come from the country; and from the country will come at least many of our big men of the succeeding gen-eration. THE MERCURY. 21 The country boy is running America to-day; his name is legion. Abraham Lincoln, the greatest monument in American history, has established a standard of idealism for all American frontier boys. President Eoosevelt was a western rancher. William Jennings Bryan, who, despite conflicting views and re-gardless of politics, is an international character, wears overalls on his Nebraska farm. Anthony Comstock, one of the greatest and best moral forces in America to-day, came from a New Eng-land farm. Homer Davenport, one of the best known political cartoonists in the country, grew up on a far western farm. And so the list may continue down along the directory of the "Who is Who"—including United States senators, merchant princes, economic, scientific and philosophic authorities; light of the bar and pulpit; writers, artists and musicians; there is no seat of the mighty where the farmer boy has not sat. If there is anybody in this whole country of ours who is a free citizen, it is the country boy. He is as free as everything about him,—the air, the sunshine, the birds, the snow. Out here in God's own country, a boy can not help growing to manhood brave and strong and clear-minded. Simple taste, simple appe-tites, a simple home, these are a wholesome curriculum for a boy's individual education. Plain food, regular hours, and plenty of healthful exercise,—these create a strong body, the only fit setting for a strong mind. The farmer boy grows up away from the atmosphere of riotous vice. He is not bred in the shadow of corporate domination and "higher ups;" he recognizes no "higher up" in this world than his Father. He is imbued with the faith that a man who dares can, and that a man who can should. He has confidence in himself, and belief in his future. That is what we by times call by one of several names: Energy, backbone, enterprise, jasm, initiative, perseverance, grit, gump-. tion. Whatever it is, it is a winnig quality,—it is power. The thoughtful men are realizing this to-day as they never-did before. Employers know it and want young men from the country; educators feel it and rejoice over the country bred scholar. The voter knows it; and the politician knows that he knows it, with the result that we get in office to-day some honest and fearless men, who stand for the best in American polities,, though tied until almost powerless. 22 THE MERCURY. It is no disgrace to have come from the country, and the boy from the country need not be afraid to apply for a job. His record is good, and nothing need stand between him and success. THE EVOLUTION OF THE BEAST. EDWARD N. FRYE, '10. |OWJST from the mountains came two beasts into a plain upon which grew a few blades of grass; they stood facing each other with snarls. Finally the battle be-gan to rage as to which should get those few blades. It became a life and death struggle, and the turmoil was great. It was a case of the survival of the fittest. The strong one con-quered and the grass was his. The other lay in the dust and gore with his life slowly ebbing away. Thus as I look out over this great country and see the strug-gle of man for life, for liberty and for progress, and then think that he is called beast and materialist, I am reminded of the story of the beasts. The charge is not wholly untrue. Man is a materialist, but a materialist by necessity, a materialist because he is a creature of society and society is warring to keep him bound. His materialism is a bread and butter problem. His materialisms are the necessities of life, nourishment of the body and a life with its comforts. The problem is how shall he pro-cure those necessities upon which his life depends, and how can he add to his daily life those comforts. These are the foremost thoughts in his mind. His hunger must be satisfied and his body clothed, likewise he must care for his wife and his children. Of course he is a materialist and what else could he be. What would give him existence? Surely not spiritualism. The life of man is made up of more or less materialistic wants. And he has been called a materialist because he is forced to center all thought on these wants. He has been called a materialist be-cause he is demanding that which by right is his and which so-ciety will not grant. He has been called a materialist because the other big beast, capitalism, is contending with him for the THE MERCURY. 23 last blade of grass. He is being driven to the very brink of de-spair with only one thought: "How can I live," and with one problem to solve: "How can I procure bread and butter." He is forced further and further to the point of starvation and still that mighty hand reaches out to grasp more from his little to swell its fortune or fill its coffers. Thus the working man is forced to lift up his voice and cry for his rights when the Ameri-can aristocracy consider him nothing more than a machine to further their interests. Whentheworkingman is reduced to a thing he becomes a materialist by necessity. He cannot lie back on the oars and pray that the Almighty God may give him bread, for then he would starve. He is therefore compelled to concentrate his energy, to rise up against such conditions and let his voice be, heard in order that he may receive that which by divine right is his. Then only when he receives that right can he turn his at-tention to the other phase of life, the spiritual side. To bring this about there must be an evolution of social condi-tions, not a revolution as the one who stands without the turmoil describes. The working man must rise up out of his present condition and let it be known that he is not a mere beast for the purpose of serving capitalistic interests and when of no more use to be turned off to starve or to be an object of charity. The capitalist, who is the real materialist, and in a sense a pragma-tist, must realize that the so-called brute is his social brother, born with all the privileges of a human being and with a soul that is equally precious in the sight of God. The capitalist must recognize that life is not a mere dream for the other fellow, but that it is a reality demanding a certain share of this world's goods to make it a joy and to prepare that soul for its rightful inheritance. This will take place when he ceases to say of his social brother: "Beast, beast," and in turn shows him his love. If the capitalist would change his perspective what a change would surely be in human affairs and in human lives. How much strife would be eliminated and how much deeper would be the spiritual life. Then man could think more seriously of things that are spiritual. The stomach of the working man would be filled and his physical wants attended to. You must satisfy those physical wants before you can hope to have him seek the wants of the soul or to develop him spiritually. 24 THE MERCURY. THE SPIRIT OF THE PLACE. HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, '10. S the autumn twilight closed in upon the old Thomaaton campus, so fraught with traditions and memories of a century's existence, there seemed to be an element of discontent, quite foreign to the place indeed, which per-meated everyone. Grant Hilsey, if the conversations which were conducted in low tones throughout the quadrangle were correct, the cause of all this discord, was throwing off his football togs in a room luxuriously furnished in every appointment. He then took a quick shower and dressed thoughtfully. Yes he was right. Something would happen tonight. Something must happen. What should he do ? Should he go to the mass-meeting or stay in his room? What was best for the college? All these ques-tions played havoc in Hilsey's mind while he was dressing and while he ate a late supper at the training table: The old chapel on the hill was that night the scene of the largest mass meeting Thomaston had ever known. Tomorrow-was the day for the "big" game with Greenvale, and the slogan of the meeting was, "Thomaston expects every man to do his duty." After speeches short and to the point by various mem-bers of the faculty, the 'Varsity men were called for one by one, and responded with short talks, promising their best efforts on the morrow. "What's the matter with Captain Hilsey?" shouted the cheer leader. The answer was an irresolute, "He's all right," amid a hubbub of hisses and jeers. The cheer leader looked aghast. "Let's see him. We want Hilsey," clamored the crowd, seem-ingly ashamed of its first action. Every one turned to the rear whence they expected Hilsey to come but there was no answer. Hilsey was not there. The captain had come into the meeting late and had sat in the rear, listening to his men as they spoke. He, too, would do his best to win. How could he lose, leading men with such spirit? Then came the jeers. He had known they must come, but he could not check the hot tears that kept swelling to his eyes. There was still one chance. He was in the rear seat and had not THE MERCURY. 25 been noticed in the excitement of the evening. H suited his ac-tion to the thought, and when the crowd turned to look for him, he had gone forth, unseen and alone. The leader shook his megaphone for silence and said in a voice that quivered just a bit, for he was a friend of the captain, "Pel-lows, tonight we have insulted one of the best captains Thomas-ton has ever known. He has picked the team with the best in-terests of the college at heart, regardless of what his enemies may say. For four years we have seen Grant Hilsey fighting for Thomaston honor. Where is the man who ever saw him betray the college. We have elected him captain, and upon him our hopes of beating Greenvale depend, and yet we hear criticisms, "improvements," and even jeers on the eve of our gratest game. It's mighty fortunate he isn't here to see this, for you know the Hilsey pride and its hard to tell what any one of us wouldn't do under his circumstances. Now fellows, lets make it so he can hear it. "What's the matter with Hilsey?" "He's all right," came back witht the roar of thunder. The dissatisfaction over the picking of the team and the captain himself seemed to be go-ing fast. "Who's all right?" Hilsey," re-echoed the crowd. "We want Hilsey," they yelled, but none appeared. The leader again motioned for silence. "Boys," he said, "one more rick-etyax for Captain Hilsey." The yell was given with a lust. All feeling was gone now in the spirit of the place which gripped every man in a way which was irresistible. With a "last long ray for the 'Varsity," the most successful mass meeting Thomas-ton had ever seen was over. When Grant Hilsey emerged from the building all seemed a confused mass. He had been publicly insulted and even jeered at. Last year, after the season which had ended by "sweeping Greenvale off the face of the earth," as the Thomastonian had it, he had been the hero of the college. He had made the run that had won for his Alma Mater, and it was quite natural that Hil-sey should be elected captain of next year's eleven. The election had been unanimous. He had come back this fall eager to pro-duce another victorious team, but the material was new and hard to get into shape. He had done his best, fairly and squarely, with the result that his associates characterized him as a deserter, for he had not chosen the, team entirely from his own "clique." 26 THE MERCURY. He was too fair for that. He was also criticized by that class of students—all too common everywhere—whose chief concern it is to kick, who are too good for everybody, yet whom nobody wants, and who still, somehow or other, exercise an influence,—probably only due to their persistency,—on every college community. The result was that Hilsey had become the most unpopular man in the college. As he walked through the campus he had grown to love, his mind was crowded to overflowing. What should he do? The Hilsey pride asserted itself. He would show them. No Hilsey could be played with in this manner. They had said that his team was "crooked." Let them improve on it. They would see that they couldn't do without Grant Hil-sey. Eevenge would be his and sweet would be his revenge. Instead of going to his room Hilsey went across the campus to his fraternity house. It too was deserted. He would send for his trunk after the game. As he sat musing on the porch the old walls loomed up before him. How he longed to graduate. But he was a Hilsey and a Hilsey never gave in. What did he care for the place anyhow? There were surely others just as good. The night train for Watauga was almost empty that night. All traffic was turned toward Thomaston for the morrow's big game. It was too late for Hilsey to go home when the train got in, so he resolved to stop at the hotel till the next day. Through-out the night and the morning his mind was in one vast whirl. He would wait till evening before going home. He remembered that all his people were at Thomaston to see the game. Some-how or other he felt that he was shirking something. Maybe he ought to go back to Thomaston even though his fellows had de-serted him. What did these unworthy sons have to do with old Thomaston anyhow ? He remembered a little essay of his on college spirit, on which he had been complimented highly. He was a Freshman then. He remembered the past three years, their ups and downs, their fortunes and misfortunes. Yes, they were happy years, all too happy but they were gone for good now. The Hilsey pride had shown itself. But that essay on college spirit kept forcing itself into his mind. That was theory he knew, rather sentimental at that. Was there such a thing at Thomaston as real live college THE MERCUKY. 27 spirit? He had done his best but did he have the spirit which could endure all for the sake of the college. Anything but gibes, he thought. But what else had he endured. He had failed at the first trial. He was a failure, a quitter, and Thomaston had expected every man to do his duty. Again the college walls loomed up in his mind. Yes, he loved them, he loved their •every stone, he loved their traditions and their lore. He looked at his watch. Could he make it? The Thomaston spirit asserted itself. He signalled a passing car, which he recognized as one of his father's. "Fast as you can to Thomaston," were his orders. It was a long ride but never for an instant did Hilsey's intentions change. There was such a thing as college spirit, Thomaston spirit. He was completely in its spell. As the car neared the campus he heard the cheer leader call, "Now then Thomaston." It thrilled his very heart. That was Thomaston, his Thomaston. "To my room," he fairly yelled to the chauffeur. The campus was de-serted. Over the green hedge which surrounded the athletic field, he could see a mass of crimson and gold. That meant Thomaston, the Thomaston he longed to fight for. It was the work of a few minutes to jump into his togs. Never was he so proud of the hugh "T" on his sweater. To think that he was so near forfeiting the privilege of wearing it. As he neared the field he heard a count—one-two-three—and then a long drawn out —nothing, all from the opposing side. His heart gave a throb. There was a chance yet. He flung off his sweater. He would show them that the Hil-sey pride was swallowed up in his college spirit. A great shout arose as the wearers of the crimson and gold saw Hilsey. They forgot enmities. He, their only hope, had come back to make them win. His judgment had been vindicated for his team had played wonderfully, and, but for a beautiful kick would have held Greenvale to no score. "Ten minutes to play," announced the time-keeper as Hilsey took his place at quarter. The team had been holding well be-fore. Now with a leader they played an aggressive game. Slowly they marched up the gridiron. Once they lost the ball, only to regain it on downs. Thomaston enthusiasm knew no bounds. There were no spectacular runs, ten yards being the greatest 28 THE MERCURY. single gain. With one minute to play a touch-down was made and the goal kicked. "What's the matter with Hilsey?" again shouted the leader. Never was such a yell heard as when they cried, "He's all right." The game was over. Again the colors of Thomaston flew high. Hilsey was late for supper again that evening. The sun was setting beyond the chapel hill with a blaze of crimson and gold, which seemed to him to be in honor of Thomaston's victory, his victory. The old chapel looked dearer than ever. In a few short months he would receive his diploma there. "It's the spirit of the place," he murmured as a crowd of students came down the street, wood in one hand and oil cans in the other. "There he is now. We want Hilsey," they cried." Yes," he muttered, as he was being hoisted upon the shoulders of his ad-miring fellows, "its the spirit of the place, the college spirit, the Thomaston spirit." I H E HE RCU RV Entered at the Postoffi.ee at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER, 1909 No. 6 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers C. M. ALLABACH,'ii S. T. BAKER, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKLE, FH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary Societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies IS cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be ac-companied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. fore, his duty to cultivate it. THE CONYERSA- What a world TIONALIST. of meaning this word contains! What a flood of memories it brings to us! Un-consciously there leaps to the im-agination the pictures of talkers who have given us many a pleas-ant hour. The human voice is probably man's greatest gift. It is his dis-tinguishing feature. It is, there- Indeed this should be his ambi- ^■■■^^^■H 30 THE MEECUEY. tion: to be affable, clear, optimistic and pleasant; to develop a ready wit and the happy accomplishment of speaking the right word at the right time. Indeed to keep silent always is as great a fault as constant babbling. Franklin expressed the idea as follows: "As we must account for every idle word, so we must for every idle silence. Conversation is not a wooden thing; it is elastic, happy and free; it runs, hops and skips. Indeed man's greatest asset is speech and harmonious conversation between two or more should be made the supreme pleasure of life. Conversation costs us nothing in dollars and cents; it com-pletes our education; discovers friends for us and can be enjoyed at all times and in all places. Although conversation is common to all ages, we believe the golden age of youth makes most of it. The young man or woman—particularly the college man or woman—uses the gift of speech to give expression to the bright-est hopes for the future. The collegian, in fact, lives in the fuT ture and oh! what a loss it would be to him to be deprived of the pleasure of building castles in the air. Talk is the great instrument of friendship. By it as Steven-son says, "Men and women contend for each other in the lists of love like rival mesmerists. By it friends can measure strength and enjoy that amicable counter-assertion of personality which is the gauge of relations and the sport of life." Conversation generally drifts to the two great subjects, "You and I." Of course the third party may be given passing consid-eration but vain humanity can not long escape the subjective. This fact is quite noticeable in the chat of two college chums. It invariably has to with the welfare of the speakers directly or in-directly. This being the case the conversationalist should be careful to clothe his old subjects in new garments and to bring them forth from the mint, as it were, with new and ever delight-ful aspects. Yes, let us continue to talk! Let us enjoy our talks, but let us seek to find more and more ways to benefit from them. THE American business world is a rapidly flowing river. To get into this rapidly moving stream, man must hustle and not be slothful. The competitions of modern life have become so keen THE MERCURY. 31 that there are no opportunities for the lazy. Man must either work or go to the wall. In every community this fact is under-stood but too often not believed. Should not these student days be hours of industry and benefit ? Many a night is spent in folly and the following day suffers. The only real and lasting enjoy-ment in life is to be found in work. Everything which man creates decays when neglected, but nothing in nature goes to pieces so fast as man in idleness. The conditions of all our faculties and enjoyments are found in the full exercise of all our powers to the limit of their capacity. There are examples of college men ad inflnitissium whose voice touches no sympathetic chord in the activities of to-day. Their thoughts never got beyond college politics and rivalries of secret societies. They have always been idlers and now are hopeless failures. As in the lower life the busy bees have no room for the drone, so in a college community the diligent students have no room for the dilatory. Let us conscientiously answer the ever-present question would our parents approve of their money's time and benefit ? and give tireless attention to our own work and advancement and when the commencement clock strikes we shall all be ready for our liberal professions. EXCHANGES. | GAIN it becomes our pleasant duty to examine and com-ment on our exchanges. We are gratified to see so many of the former papers again appear this year; as well as many new ones. A few of the former ex-changes have not yet made their appearance, but we trust it is only a matter of a short time until we shall again have the pleas-ure of receiving them. The matter of criticism is quite a relative one; some papers choose to tear every thread of good out of productions by hostile criticism; others are too apt in praising. It has always been our custom to act the part of appreciative critics in dealing with our friends. Of course there is often a necessity to make the harsher 32 THE MERCURY. kind of criticism, but in so doing we shall always do it with a friendly spirit and trust no offense is taken. Of the few exchanges to reach our hands this year one of the best is "The Gilford Collegian;" its departments are all well ordered and literary contributions are of a high order. The ora-tion, "The Solid South," is a very pertinent production; it deals in a broad and sensible manner with the reasons of southern solidity and shows how the causes for it no longer exist and that the idea belonging to a past time should be relegated to its pro-per place by the thoughtful citizens. The story, "The Heart of a Woman," in the same issue is very clearly written and not only causes much amusement but some serious thought. The October issue of "The College Student" is filled with well written articles. "The Crime of the Congo" and "The Crucible of Life" show much preparation and skillful arrangement of material. "We gratefully acknowledge all exchanges received. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. IN this Drama of Four Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Role (roll). Every summer hundreds of students make BIG MONEY selling Aluminum Cooking Utensils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGRAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. MILLER, '10, Representative, Who has a full line of samples. EDUCATION The times an .1 the Schools demand that the best things shall be done and in the best manner. Watermans^FountainPen accomplishes everything that can be required of a good writing in-strument. Made to last for years of service and give its owner the satisfaction which comes with owning "the best." From all dealers. The Globe trade-mark i» our guarantee .742 Market St. San Frm 136 St. Jftinei St., Moi.trenl 12 Golden L*n«. ton-ton G Ru« A* lUnovm Paris PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUIOTTU^E Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. H. B. BENDER. 37 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. L. WEIGAND, DEALER IN FRESH AND CURED MEATS OF ALL KINDS-Boarding Clubs a Specialty. §003^5 f^e5tQUPQDt, No. 7 Chambersburg Street. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE, College Emblems, Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 722 Chestnut St., Phil delphia. Specialties: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer. Charles S. Mumper, DEALER IN FURNITURE, PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS REPAIR WORK DONE PROMPTLY I will also BUY or EXCHANGE any SECOND-HAND FURNITURE No. 4 Chambersburg street, Gettysburg, Pa. D. J. Swartz, DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. —IS— OHLER BRO.'S RESTAURANT, First National Bank Bld'g. The place to eat the best Ice Cream. QUICK LUNCH and Oysters in season. Your Photographer, If not, why not? 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. FLEMMING I BAIR'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrange-ments by telegram or letter. Dock Bock 257. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. WINDSOR HOTEL, W. T. BRUBAKEB, Manager. Midway between Broad St. Station and Reading Terminal on Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. BOOMS $1.00 PER DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and consequence in PHILADELPHIA. The Modern Steam Laundry . . OF YORK . . Offers the COLLEGE STUDENTS first-class work at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUFFER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. The Baltimore Medical College Preliminary Fall Course begins September ist. Regular Winter Course begins September 20th. Liberal teaching facilities ; Modern college buildings; Comfortable lecture hall and amphitheatres ; Large and complete equipped laboratories; Capacious hospital and dispensary; Lying-in department for teaching clinical obstetrics ; Large clinics. Send for catalogue. Address DAVID STREETT, M. D., Dean, N. E. Cor. Madison St., and Linden Ave., Baltimore, Md. COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORK MEANS TASTY WORK CAREFULLY DONE. MENU CARDS WINDOW" POSTERS LETTER HEADS ENVELOPES DANCE CARDS TICKETS Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, done in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

Ralph P. Vander Heide, October 3, 2013 ; The Weber State College Oral History Program was created in the early 1970s to "record and document, through personal reminiscences, the history, growth and development of Weber State College." Through interviews with administrators, faculty and students, the program's goal was to expand the documentary holdings on Weber State College and its predecessor entities. From 1970 to 1976, the program conducted some fifteen interviews, under the direction of, and generally conducted by Harold C. Bateman, an emeritus professor of history. In 1979, under the direction of archivist John Sillito, the program was reestablished and six interviews were conducted between 1979 and 1983, with additional interviews being conducted by members of the Weber State community. In 2013 the campus prepared to celebrate the 125th Anniversary of Weber State University in 2014. In order to document the student experience, interviews were conducted with Weber State College Alumni on an ongoing basis. ; This is an oral history interview with Dr. Ralph Vander Heide, conducted on October 3, 2013 in his home in Ogden, Utah, by Jamie J. Weeks. Ralph discusses his memories of Weber State College from 1955 to 1957 and his membership in the Sigma fraternity. Also present is his wife Judith Howell Vander Heide and our video technician Stacie Gallagher. ; 28p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Ralph P. Vander Heide Interviewed by Jamie J. Weeks 3 October 2013 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Ralph P. Vander Heide Interviewed by Jamie J. Weeks 3 October 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees, who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State College Oral History Program was created in the early 1970s to "record and document, through personal reminiscences, the history, growth and development of Weber State College." Through interviews with administrators, faculty and students, the program's goal was to expand the documentary holdings on Weber State College and its predecessor entities. From 1970 to 1976, the program conducted some fifteen interviews, under the direction of, and generally conducted by Harold C. Bateman, an emeritus professor of history. In 1979, under the direction of archivist John Sillito, the program was reestablished and six interviews were conducted between 1979 and 1983, with additional interviews being conducted by members of the Weber State community. In 2013 the campus prepared to celebrate the 125th Anniversary of Weber State University in 2014. In order to document the student experience, interviews were conducted with Weber State College Alumni on an ongoing basis. ___________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management University Archives All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Vander Heide, Ralph, an oral history by Jamie J. Weeks, 3 October 2013, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Ralph Vander Heide October 3, 2013 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Dr. Ralph Vander Heide, conducted on October 3, 2013 in his home in Ogden, Utah, by Jamie J. Weeks. Ralph discusses his memories of Weber State College from 1955 to 1957 and his membership in the Sigma fraternity. Also present is his wife Judith Howell Vander Heide and our video technician Stacie Gallagher. JW: To begin with, why don't you tell us a little bit about your early life? You did start out in Ogden, right? RVH: Yes, I was born in Ogden on April 15, 1937 at the good old Dee Hospital, which was then on 24th and Harrison. My family lived in west Ogden. I come from an immigrant family; Dutch on my father's side and Danish on my mother's. We lived there with my grandfather actually. I like to say, we had a compound, you know like the Kennedys, and we had an aunt here and an aunt there. We had about three houses on the street, and that's where we lived until I was ten years old. I went to the Hopkins school, which is named after a man who was superintendent of schools in Ogden. Mister or Doctor I don't know, but his name is Hopkins. My dad worked for the railroad and mother started teaching again five years after I was born. I was in grade six when we moved to Cohen Street above Harrison and I went to Lorin Farr School then to Central Junior High and on to Ogden High School, and on to Weber State College. I looked around at other universities and colleges, I wasn't rejected but I thought well you know, I will spend the money somewhere in California or New York or Salt Lake City or I can put my feet under my dad's table. I could keep driving my leaded, lowered 1 Chevrolet, it was a fifty-something. Metallic blue and I didn't want to leave that behind you know, so I stayed in Ogden at Weber College. JW: And did you have any siblings? RVH: Me I'm it. They took one look at me and said that's enough. JW: So it's good that you were raised with all your aunts and cousins. RVH: Or they knew they could never do anything better, maybe that's the other way of looking at it. JW: I found and printed off your pictures in the 1956 and 1957 yearbooks and your pictures from Sigma. (App. 1-4; 1956 Acorn and 1957 Acorn) RVH: Yes. We are still playing with Sigma through to this day. We have regular meetings going again. We meet once a month. We have lunches and twice per year bring our mates. Not too many turn out, but we are working on it. JW: The move of the Weber campus from 25th Street to Harrison took place in 1954 and you attended campus in the fall of 1955, so where did you attend class? RVH: I was on both campuses. JW: Really? RVH: We all were back then. I wasn't on the lower campus much, you had to take PE down there I guess, so I did take PE classes on 25th Street. I can't recall anything else on that campus, I guess drama, but I didn't do anything with that. I was mostly on the upper campus by far. You could go early then and park right in front. I thought why not, so I would take my books and park right in front and crack the book open and that way you got to see the girls go by and your friends and everybody else too. 2 JW: So were there four buildings? RVH: There were those original four yes, and then we had something very famous call the TUB (Temporary Union Building). I did an article on the TUB. JW: Oh did you? RVH: The alumni association asked for some stories and I did one on my experience with the TUB and professor Sheldon Hayes. I took piano lessons from his wife, so I knew the family, I think they were from Brigham City. My mother knew them, and my grades were getting worse and worse in his class because I was stopping in at the TUB for coffee and conversation. It was a big deal to drink coffee there. I was that immature, as were several of us. So Sheldon Hayes took me aside and told me I better quite spending so much time playing "Joe College" and get with the program. I don't know to this day how he knew. My point of the story is that it shows how good our professors were, they did take care of us and they really did watch over us. JW: That seems to be an ongoing theme I hear from everyone. So what courses did you take your first year in 1955? RVH: Well that's a little harder. I was filling groups because I hadn't declared a major yet. I like languages, so I took Spanish and there was never a nicer old gentleman than Victor Hancock who taught Spanish and other languages. He noted my language interest and gave me a couple books and encouraged me along the way. I already knew some Dutch, so I knew what language learning was about, and I took some Spanish in high school and junior high. So Spanish was part of the deal and I took English and that I liked very much because I liked 3 to write. I had Bob Mikkelsen among others and he was very good I thought. He must have been around 38 or early40's, I don't know, but a young guy and someone I could relate to. They were all helpful to us. We had a really good program at Ogden High. It was an outstanding high school I think, but still we were just kids and immature. They knew that. I know now they knew that then, but we didn't know that then. They were really helping us along. You thought you wrote something brilliant and then Mikkelsen says, "Well you know, this isn't spelled right and that is a dangling participle." You didn't know as much as you thought you did. Let me just add, when I went down to the U (University of Utah), they used to say things like, "You will lose credits when you transfer from Weber." I did not lose one credit, it all transferred. It was good to know that the U had that much respect for us. JW: So back then, were most of the students attending Weber people that you had maybe gone to high school with? RVH: A lot of them were, yes, but I got to know some of the people from other high schools and that was nice too. I notice now when I go out with friends who went straight to BYU (Brigham Young University) or Utah, they don't know anybody at Weber, and I enjoy those relationships with the guys we knew back then. I know the president or the head of this department or this student or Sigma; it was good for me to be there. JW: What kind of activities did Sigma do while you were there? RVH: Oh we would have kegs. We had a stripper once. I believe our president of Sigma had to go in and explain that situation. We had some guys who had 4 returned from Korea and they weren't quick to take any flack. They ran Sigma for the most part and they weren't about to put up with this baby stuff. First of all they said we would have no initiations, like drowning us in reservoirs or waterboarding or anything like that. We were men, so when you got your bid to Sigma you were proud to be a man. We would go see a naughty movie and have a beer. You always had to have a keg that was big stuff. JW: So were you the "wild fraternity" on campus? RVH: Well yes. I read the blurb in here (yearbook) this morning, but I haven't read it for years. We were known for that and we did a lot of good too, so we were also do-gooders, but sometimes it got a little carried away I guess. We had our annual pajama dance and we all wore ten layers under the pajamas, but some of the guys are saying we didn't. However, I think I'm right on that, I don't think those mothers were letting those girls go out of the house… JW: Without several layers on? RVH: Well yes. We had those mothers where you know, you drove up after a date and they flicked the lights off and on when you were sitting in the car. Damn that was annoying, you would always park further down the street. JW: So were those most of your activities? I mean you guys were having fun, but I know you were doing good things because I think that was the point of the fraternity, to contribute back to the school right? RVH: Yes well, I wasn't in athletics but I was a music major when I started. I was a voice major, so I did some of that choir stuff and singing, and then I dropped that major along the line for different reasons. 5 JW: Who was your choir director while you were there? RVH: Mr. Hanson was there and Roland Parry, it was hard to beat [that level of musicianship] anywhere. Let me get this right, his wife Helen I'm pretty sure was the daughter of James E. Talmage, who was one of the best known authorities of the Mormon Church, ever. He was really an intellectual man and it turned out she was gifted herself, and so she came from that line of people. Parry was from the local Parry family who were here long ago and owned a lot in Ogden. He was a musician and teacher of some note. He wrote "All Faces West," the story of the Mormons coming here. He knew, because he met him in New York, Igor Gorin the baritone, who was not ever known well enough during his lifetime. That has been recognized since, but I knew Igor Gorin because I sang in a choir as a nobody at the age of 15 or 16. He let me speak to him in his trailer and that was fun because I was so interested in vocal training. I would ask, "What do you drink before you sing in this dry climate?" but we are off the subject I guess. JW: Well, that is interesting to me because we do have some Igor Gorin pictures and a few items about him left over from Roland Parry in the archives. RVH: It's hard to get a recording though isn't it? The Parry family does have records, but I don't know if or how they have released them. JW: As far as the social activities you are involved with, you enjoyed singing, and were you involved in the musical productions the college put on? RVH: Well, I was involved a little bit with music, but, I'll tell you one guy I sang with was Heber Jentzsch, who is the president of the Church of Scientology International. He had a marvelous voice and I think he went to Las Vegas as a bar singer, it's 6 hard to get employment, there's competition out there. He came from a polygamist family actually, and I don't think he would mind me saying this, that's just how it was. I was trying to think of where we had our school dances, that was always big stuff, the proms, the dances, kings and queens. JW: We already mentioned the TUB. I wondered if there was more to the TUB socially? RVH: The TUB was fairly big in my life because you'd go up there and you could have a snack or coffee and that was new, you can't do that in high school. That was kind of fun, I guess that made you feel grown up or like a real college guy. JW: Did they hold other activities there in the TUB? RVH: I don't think it was big enough. It was one of those government buildings which we had around Ogden from way after the war and it had been moved to the campus. Temporary did mean temporary and it went away. You know some of these things they have called temporary, like down at the U, and they are still there. JW: There isn't anybody that we've ever talk to that didn't have great things to say about the TUB and so it must have just been such a big deal. RVH: Well you couldn't study there very well because people were banging dishes and what not, but you went there and talked and had coffee I suppose. JW: So what was the dating scene like back then? RVH: Well you know, not much different I would say. It was the day of going steady right? 7 JPH: Getting pinned. RVH: Right, getting pinned. I guess we did some of that. I never did any pinning so I don't know. JW: So you kept your Sigma pins to yourself? RVH: Yes, well you had steady girlfriends and that sort of thing and that was big, but it caused too much trouble and concern when you went steady and would date somebody else, then you weren't steady anymore. There was a time when I thought I was steady, and I wasn't steady its turns out, but I think you're sort of stuck with one girl. JW: Was there a lot of group dating or a lot of friends hanging out together? RVH: Well yes, you hung out together, but you went with your girlfriend. Well I don't know, there were two or three girls that I was sort of steady with no matter what, that means eight dates or something, but I was just a little nerdy kid from Ogden High. I wasn't one of those cool guys from Korea, boy we thought they were really men you know. JW: Oh the ones that had been to war? RVH: Yes, and they had let us into their fraternity, wow. JW: So who was your favorite professor? RVH: Oh I guess I would have to say Jennings Olson. Jennings Olson knew about as much as any man I've ever known. JW: So did you have him your second year? RVH: All I could. JW: Really? 8 RVH: Yes. I would have private talks with him because he said things that I didn't hear in the church for example. He was so prepared he would write his whole outline of his lecture on the boards just after he walked in and then go through those points. He really introduced me to that stuff big time; philosophers and people that I had never even heard of. If you're receptive to that, as I was and I'm still very receptive to that, it was just mind boggling. I mean I'm still talking about it and I'm seventy-six. I saw him a few times after my Weber days. I would come home and visit my mother for example and he would be outside exercising and walking. He had polio when he was a boy and he started weight lifting. He did everything in his power to overcome that limp he had. He was as strong as an ox and he would win weight lifting competitions in the state. Besides his intellectual accomplishments, he had built a special room on his house for his weights and equipment. I've known people who have lifted with him and they say he was fantastic. He was very helpful to us meatheads. He would make time for you with all the intellectual ability he had. I often wondered why he didn't go somewhere else, which may be in your mind but I don't know, I absolutely don't know. He was not respected in the community because he was very anti-Mormon. He thought it was nonsense and that doesn't make you too popular at Weber State in 1955 because everybody else is involved with the church, or at least most of them were. Weber is very different that way now in having broadened the backgrounds of the people they hire. So he offended a lot of people just by being. 9 I thought they were all pretty good. People like Robert S. Mikkelsen in English. They had a man named H.E.D. Redford, no relation to Robert, but he was an actor and taught the drama and theater, he was outstanding. Thatcher Allred was a fine professor, a very knowledgeable man. I didn't take art, but a good friend of mine did, and the art people were as good as any. You go to the U, or you go somewhere else, and you have other professors then you can compare. I've been to school in Europe, I've been to the University of Zurich, I went to the University of Madrid, the University of Seville and I went to the University of New York at Albany. I never had anybody superior to, not even equal to Jennings Olson. Now he didn't know languages. I've had professors who knew maybe five or six languages, but I never had anyone better as a teacher. Maybe Dr. Paul Wyler at the U. There are some of these famous people around Brewster Ghesilin was one down there, a writing teacher, but we're talking about Weber. JW: So did you know President Miller? RVH: I did, my family knew President Miller, and he was superintendent in the Weber District before he went to Weber State. I remember when he came to our house, I was probably five, and he asked my mother to come back to teaching. He said, "We have got to have you." He came to our house! So, I got dragged along sort of at an early age and played behind the piano because I wasn't supposed to be there I guess. She taught out in west Weber, and that was quite a drive, do you know where that is? JW: Well I guess I'm thinking out past Marriott-Slaterville? 10 RVH: Yes, out there. So yes, President Miller and his wife had four daughters and were highly respected here. I was interested to learn when I taught at Clearfield High, the principal there, Joseph Cook was a good friend of his, and they both went to the Weber Academy, and it was a big deal that you drove all day to get into Ogden I guess. So those two men, well Cook didn't have a doctorate, but he had a masters, that's pretty high education back then for the rural communities. A lot of being a good teacher, principal or superintendent is common sense anyway and Miller had that. Miller was a scholar and a gentleman and a very nice man. JW: So how did he interact with the students? I mean you knew him on a personal level, but what about the regular student. RVH: Well yes that's true, somewhat I did. I thought he interacted well, but not in the way some do. He wasn't among us every day and walking around or anything. He was receptive and listened to you, helped you, warned you, and put up with things like Sigma. Some professors wanted to drive us off the campus with whips, and with our beer in our cups. JW: What kind of diversity was there on campus? RVH: I don't think there was any diversity back then, but it began to change rapidly starting about then. Some of the best students I knew at Ogden High came over to Weber. I was sort of surprised, some went off, but it was a money issue. If they could afford to go to Colorado, or California, some of the very best scholars went to places like Columbia. I could name names but I won't, or Stanford maybe we had one go to Stanford I don't know. 11 JW: So was there any kind of political activity going on on campus? RVH: Not really back then. I go over there now and I enjoy it cause I see these kids and they are every color and their hair is kinky or straight, and some of them are smoking cigarettes right outside doors as close as they are allowed to stand, and they are just fun. And then inside they have this cause and that cause, and I would go up and read their causes so I can take a piece of candy or whatever they are offering there. There's always somebody there it seems to me every time I go over there. Then they are grabbing coffee there at Starbucks, that's a cut up from the TUB. JW: Are you still involved with Weber? RVH: Well yes, I'm on the AHA Committee, the Arts and Humanities Advisory with Dean Madonne Miner, who is one of the people who has come fresh to the college without local baggage. Not that local baggage is all bad but you have to have some variety and she's part of that. We do a lot with Weber. We go to some of the plays and concerts and some of the things are in people's homes. We support them quite a bit. JW: And so why did you return back to Ogden? RVH: Well I returned because it was home and I was happy here. My mother was here and she was alone because I am an only child as we mentioned earlier, and she was getting older and it was harder to get around, and I wanted to be closer to her to help her out. It was time to retire somewhere and we could have stayed where we were, Judy liked it more than I did, but it was a very nice place to be. We looked at houses here for a while and we found this house and Judy liked the 12 house a lot, and it was okay with me. Sometimes we say, this is really mean I guess, but we say we live here because it's closer to Salt Lake. We came back and I felt real good about that because we were here three years before Mother died and I was really glad I was here. JW: Is there anything that we haven't covered? RVH: Probably. JW: Anything that you would like to talk about, about Weber and your days there? RVH: I'm concerned that Weber can hold onto that now. Weber keeps selling itself this way, as a place that cares for students and so on. I've seen a lot of evidence of that. I have taught some classes there in Spanish for example with Tom Mathews and sat in on some other classes. I observe professors if I'm over there in the halls and they are greeting students and so on, some more than others. I think that still does exist even though classes are bigger and you can't know everybody like you could back then. We probably really did know just about everybody but that is harder and harder and it is a problem as the place gets bigger. We've got the other campus now, but I think that special care for certain students who really need it is good. You know we used to call Weber, Harrison High as it was just an extension of high school. Ogden High was much bigger and seemed to be more sophisticated to me than maybe Weber was. Everybody went to school there; the wealthiest kids in town, the poorest kids in town, so Weber was different than that, but I don't know how you hold onto that. I have gone to school many places, 13 but I never saw more of that than I have here, caring for students. So how do you hold onto that? JW: I don't know. I earned my bachelors at Weber and I felt the same way and it wasn't that long ago. I think for the face-to-face courses, the professors are still the same way and just as involved with the students as the students would like them to be. I think the real issue, because I teach online classes, I think that's where some of that is starting to come in. When you have online classes it's really hard to build a rapport with someone you have never met face-to-face. There's no way we cannot move in that direction, we have to, in order to remain competitive, but I do think that is the place where we are starting to lose that close rapport with students. RVH: I have seen students, like with Tom, and he will tell me, "Oh she is married and she's got three kids, or this guy just came back from here and he works over there," and he knows and he doesn't just walk out the door. I've had these guys they walk in, look at their clock, start the lecture, then walk out, and I haven't seen that at Weber. JW: I've never experienced that at weber. JPH: Well you know, having gone to Stanford, and I'm two years ahead of him academically, I did know a couple of professors. Actually one was William Scowcroft, who's from Ogden originally. I was a creative writing major and I knew Wallace Stegner and my freshmen Western Civilization professor, but the rest of them didn't know you from a hot rock, they didn't have any interest in knowing you. I mean when I go back to reunions, and I love the people I went to 14 college with, there are 1500 people in my class. Obviously I didn't know everyone, but it's so different from the way he is describing this experience where the professors actually knew you. I mean I had classes with 300 people in them. RVH: Maybe Weber doesn't want to grow that much anyway. I know we've talked to the new president about this very thing, and he likes that about Weber. JW: Right, and he comes from the U which has their share of walk-in, walk-out professors. RVH: Yes, he has a prestigious background, but I still think he is down to earth and will mingle. JW: He is new to us, and it's always hard to move from one president to another one. However, I've been impressed with the events that I've gone to and having talked to him I think he's going to do a good job. RVH: Ann Millner has awfully big shoes to step into; I've never seen anybody give more than she did to the job. JW: She was nonstop. RVH: She could tell you about an injured football player, how he was recovering, and in the next minute talk about next year's budget in the drama department. She was just up on stuff like that, all the time, everything that happened. JW: Right, and that's the thing, it's hard to fill a previous president's shoes, but I think that he is going to do okay. He seems to be sliding in pretty easily and he really has shown his face all over campus, which is appreciated. I mean if they're not walking into your building and they are not paying attention, then people notice. 15 RVH: I tease him about about that. I say, do you know my name? JPH: His mother went to Skidmore. RVH: Yes, his mother went to Skidmore, so he got me back. JPH: Which is where Ralph taught. RVH: He asked, "Did you teach my mother?" and I said, "Thanks, thanks a lot." JW: Well good, he has a sense of humor then. RVH: Yes, he does, it's real subtle. JW: Yes, you have to catch it. Well, unless there's something else you would like to add, I think we've covered your time at Weber, and I know you're still involved. RVH: Yes, and for ten years we worked with school accreditation. Mainly in Utah, but internationally as well, so schools from New York to Bangkok. That was something that Weber can help prepare you for too. You have so many experiences during your life, but they all add up. We got to see some good teaching and some bad teaching in that experience too. One or two were colleges, so again you compare Weber in the mix. JW: Well we appreciate being able to come here and appreciate our time with you. It has been really interesting. I love that every story is different and yet they all come back to this warmth for Weber that most people don't feel for their alma mater, so it's nice to hear. RVH: In the last three years I have finished and published a book and an anti-Nazi magazine published in Chile by the Germans who fled their homeland. Judy and I wrote a second one as well. I was pleased that Weber's Radio Station student 16 personnel were very helpful in giving me interview time (i.e., same old spirit of cooperation). By the way, no married couple should write a book together—the marriage did survive. 17 1 Appendix 2 3 4

Daniel Levine on Hidden Hands, Vocation and Sustainable Critique in International Relations











Daniel Levine is part of a new generation
of IR scholars that takes a more pluralist approach to addressing the hard and
important questions generated by international politics. While many of those
interviewed here display a fairly consistent commitment to a certain position
within what is often referred to as 'the debate' in IR, Levine straddles the boundaries
of a diverse range of positions and understandings. Time to ask for
elaboration.














Print version of this Talk (pdf)




What is, according
to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your
position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?






The
question I'd like us to be asking more clearly than we are is, 'are we a
vocation and, if so, what kind of vocation are we'? This points to a varied set
of questions that we, as scholars, gesture to but spend relatively little
theoretical time developing or unpacking. There's an assumption that the
knowledge we produce is supposed to be put good for something, practical in
light of some praiseworthy purpose. Even theorists who perceive themselves to
be epistemologically value-free hope, I think, at least on an intuitive level, that
some practical good will emerge from what they do. They hope that they are doing
'good work' in the sense that some Christians use this term. But, there is not
really a sustained project of thinking through how those works work: how our notions of vocation might
be different or even mutually exclusive, and how the differences in our notions
of vocation might be bound up in non-obvious ways to our epistemological,
methodological, and theoretical choices.







Moreover,
except for a few very important and quite heroic (and minoritarian) efforts, we
don't really have a way to think systematically about the structure of the
profession: how it influences or intervenes or otherwise acts on particular
ideas as they percolate through it, and how those ideas get 'taken up' into
policy. Brian Schmidt has
done work like that, so has Inanna Hamati-Ataya,
Ole Waever, Ido Oren,
Oded Löwenheim, Elizabeth Dauphinee, Naeem Inayatullah,
and Piki Ish-Shalom; and it's good work, but
they are doing what they are doing with limited resources, and I think without due
appreciation from a big chunk of the field as to why that work is important and
what it means.







When
I started writing Recovering
International Relations, I had wanted to recover the 'view from nowhere'
that many social scientists idealize. You know, that methodological conceit
where we imagine we are standing on Mars, watching the earth through a
telescope, or we're Archimedes standing outside of the world, leveraging it
with distance and dispassion. I had worked on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict
for a long time, was living in Tel Aviv, working for a think tank, and was—am—an
Israeli citizen and an American citizen. I had this somewhat shocking discovery
right after the Second Intifada broke
out. Most of my senior colleagues were deploying their expertise in what seemed
to me to be a very tendentious way: to show why the second Intifada was Yassar
Arafat's fault or the Palestinian Authority's fault—or, in a few cases, the
Israelis' fault. There were some very simplistic political agendas that were
driving this research. People were watching the evening news, coming into work
the next morning, and then running Ehud Yaari's commentary through their respective fact-values-methods mill. Or if they were
well-connected, they were talking to their friends on the 'inside', and doing
the same thing.







It
was hard to admit this for a long time, but I was very naïve. I found that very
unsettling and quite disillusioning. That's why the view from nowhere was so
appealing. I wanted to be able to talk about
Israel and Palestine without taking a position on Israel and Palestine—but without eschewing the expertise I had
acquired along the way, in part because I was
a party to this conflict, and cared about its outcome. I was young,
inexperienced, and slightly arrogant to boot—neither yet a scholar, nor an 'expert,'
nor really aware of the game I was playing. So my objections were not well
received, nor did I pose them especially coherently. To their credit, my senior
colleagues did recognize something worthwhile in my diatribes, and they did
their best to help me get into graduate school.







As the
project developed, and as I started engaging with my mentors in grad school, it
appeared that the view from nowhere was essentially impossible to recover. With
Hegel and with the poststructuralists, we can't really think from nowhere; the
idea of it is this kind of intellectual optical illusion, as though thinking
simply happens, without a mind that is conditioned by being in the world. Therefore,
there needs to be a process by which we give account of ourselves.







There
are a variety of different ways to consider how one might do that. There's what
we might call the agentic approach, in which we think through the structure of
thought itself: its limitations, our dependence on a certain image of thinking
notwithstanding those limits—thought's work on us, on our minds. This is closest
to what I do, drawing on Adorno and Kant, and Adorno's account of how concepts
work in the mind; how they pull us away from the things we mean to understand
even as they give us the words to understand them. And drawing on Jane Bennett, William Connolly,
Hannah Arendt, Cornel West, JoanTronto, and JudithButler to think through how one
conditions oneself to accept those limitations from a space of love, humility
and service. Patrick Jackson's (TheoryTalk #44) Conduct of Research in IR is quite
similar to this approach; and so is Colin Wight's Agents, Structures and International
Relations; though they use more philosophy of science than I do.







One
could also do this more 'structurally.' One could say 'this is how the academy
works and this is how the academy interconnects with the larger political
community' and then try to trace out those links: I mentioned Hamati-Ataya,
Oren, and Ish-Shalom, or you could think of Isaac Kamola,
Helen Kinsella, or
Srdjan Vucetic.








Any of
those approaches—or really, some admixture of them—would be pieces of that
project. I would like us to be doing more of that—alongside, not instead of,
all the other things we are already doing, from historical institutionalism to formal
modeling, to large-N and quantitative approaches, and normative, feminist and
critical ones. I would like such self-accounting to be one of the things
scholars do, that they take it as seriously as they take methods, epistemology,
data, etc. Driving that claim home in our field, as it's presently constituted,
is our biggest challenge.






How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?






I'm 42,
so the Cold War was a big deal. I'm American-born, and I was raised in a pretty
typical suburb. John Stewart from the Daily
Show is probably the most famous product of my hometown, though I didn't
know him. My view of history was a liberal and progressive in the Michael
Waltzer/Ulrich Beck/Anthony Giddens, vein, but I was definitely influenced by
the global circumstances of the time, and by the 'End of History' discourse
that was in the air. I thought that the US was a force of good in the world. I
was a nice Jewish boy from New Jersey. I really wanted to live in Israel for
personal reasons, and the moral challenge of living in Israel after the
Intifada seemed to go away with the peace process. So, it seemed to me that it
was a kind of golden moment: you could 'render unto Caesar what was due to Caesar',
and do the same for the Lord. I could actually be a Jewish-Israeli national and
also a political progressive. (That phrase is, of course, drawn from the Gospels,
and that may give you some sense of how my stated religious affiliations might
have differed from the conceptual and theological structures upon which they actually
rested—score one for the necessity of reflexivity. But in any case, those
events were important.)







I moved
to Israel when I was 22 and was drafted into the military after I took
citizenship there. In the IDF, I was a low-level functionary/general laborer—a
'jobnik', someone who probably produces less in utility than they consume in
rations. Our job was to provide support for the combatants that patrolled a
certain chunk of the West Bank near Nablus—Shechem, as we called it, after the
biblical name. I was not a particularly distinguished soldier. But we were cogs
in a very large military occupation, and being inside a machine like that, you
can see how the gears and pieces of it meshed together, and I started taking
notice of this. Sometimes I'd help keep the diary in the operations room. You
saw how it all worked, or didn't work; or rather, for whom it worked and for
whom it didn't. All that was very sobering and quite fascinating.







I once
attended a lecture given by the African politics scholar Scott Straus, and he
said the thing about being present right after genocide is that you come across
these pits full of dead bodies. It's really shocking and horrific—there they
are, just as plain as day. Nothing I saw in the sheer level of violence compares
to that in any way—I should stress this. But that sense of it all just being out there, as plain as day, and being
shocked by this—that resonated with me. Everyone who cared to look could
understand how the occupation worked, or at least how chunks of it worked. So I
would say in terms of events, those things were the big pieces that structured
my thinking.







Here's two
anecdotal examples. Since I was a grade of soldier with very limited skills, I
was on guard duty a lot. We had a radio. I could hear the Prime Minister on the
radio saying we are going to strike so-and-so in response to an attack on such-and-such,
and then I could see helicopters pass overhead to Nablus, and then I could see
smoke. Then I could see soldiers come back from going out to do whatever it was
the helicopter had provided air support for. I'd see ambulances with red
crescents or red Stars of David rush down the main road. It began to occur to
me that there was a certain economy of violence in speech and performance. I
didn't think about it in specifically theoretical terms before I went back to
graduate school, but Israelis had been killed, political outrage had been
generated. There was a kind of affective deficit in Israeli politics that
demanded a response, and some amount of suffering had to be returned—so the
government could say it was doing its job. I found this very depressing. My odd
way of experiencing this—neither fully inside nor outside—is certainly not the
most important or authentic, and I'm not trying to set myself up as an expert
on this basis. I'm only trying to account for how it made me think at the time
and how that shows up in what and how I write now.







Later,
when I was in the reserves, I was in the same unit with the same guys every
year. One year, we were lacing our boots and getting our equipment for our
three weeks of duty in a sector of the West Bank near Hebron, I think it was. I
remember one guy, one of the more hawkish guys, said 'we'll show 'em this time,
we'll show them what's what'. Three weeks later, that same guy said 'Jeez, it's
like we're like a thorn in their backside; no wonder they hate us so much.' (He
actually used some colorful imagery that I can't share with you.) I remember
thinking, 'well, ok, he'll go home and he'll tell his family and his friends;
some good will come of this.' The next year, I saw the same guy saying the same
thing at the start, 'we'll show those SOBs.' And then three weeks later, 'oh my
God, this is so pointless, no wonder they hate us…' So after a few years of
this I finally said to him, 'tagid, ma
yihiyeh itcha?'—Like, dude, what's your deal? 'We've had this conversation every year! What happens to you in
the 48 weeks that you're not here that you forget this?' And I think he looked
at me like, 'what are you talking about?'







I
thought about that afterwards: we have these moments of experience when we're
out of our everyday environment and discourse, the diet of news and fear, PR
and political nonsense—that's when these insights become possible. So, when
this guy comes in and says 'ok, we'll get those SOBs,' he's carrying with him this
discourse that he has from home, from the news and TV, from his 'parliament'
with his friends where they get together and talk about politics and war and
economics and whatever else—and then a few weeks of occupation duty disrupts
all that, makes him see it in a different light, and he has these kinds of
fugitive experiences which give him a weirdly acute critical insight. Suddenly,
he's this mini-Foucault.







In a
few weeks, though, he goes back to his life, there's no space or niche into
which that uncomfortable, fugitive insight can really grow, so it just sort of
disappears or withers on the vine, its power is dissipated. This is a very
real, direct experience of violence and it's covered over by all of this
jibber-jabber. So there's a moment where you start to wonder: what exactly
happens there? What happens in those 48 weeks? What happens to me during those weeks? You can see how a
kind of ongoing critical self-interrogation would evolve out of that. Again,
none of those things are exactly what my book's about, but it gives you a sense
of how you might find Adorno's kind of critical relentlessness and negativity vital
and important and really useful and necessary. You can see how that might
inform my thinking.







In
terms of books, as an undergraduate, I had read, not very attentively, Said and
Foucault, and all of the stuff at the University of Chicago we had to take in
what they called the 'Scosh Sequence,' from sociologists like Elijah Anderson
and William Julius Wilson to Charles Lindblom and Mancur Olsen: texts from the
positive and the interpretive to the post-structural. I had courses with some
very smart Israeli and Palestinian profs—Ephraim Yaar, Salim Tamari, Ariela
Finkelstein. And of course Rashid Khalidi was there at that time. Once I was in
the military, the Foucault and Said suddenly started popping around in my head.
Suddenly, this sort of lived experience of being on guard duty made the
Panopticon and the notion of discipline go from being a rather complicated,
obscure concept to something concrete. 'Oh! That's
what discipline is!'







When I
went back to graduate school, I was given a pretty steady diet of Waltz,
rational deterrence theory, Barry Posen, Stephen Walt (Theory Talk #33), and Robert Jervis (Theory Talk #12). Shai
Feldman was a remarkable teacher, so were Ilai Alon in philosophy, Shlomo
Shoham in sociology and Aharon Shai in History. Additionally I had colleagues
at work who were PhD students at the Hebrew University working with Emanuel Adler;
they gave me Wendt (Theory Talk #3), Katzenstein's (TheoryTalk # 15) Culture of National Security, Adler and
Barnett, and Jutta Weldes' early article on 'Constructing National Interests'
in the EJIR (PDF here).
My job was to help them publish their monographs, so I got really into the guts
of their arguments, which were fascinating. I am not really an agency-centered
theory guy anymore and I am not really a constructivist anymore, but that stuff
was fantastic. I saw that one could write from a wholly different viewpoint,
perspective, and voice. This is all very mainstream in IR now, but at the time,
it felt quite edgy, very novel. Part of the reason why the middle chapters of Recovering IR has these long discussions
about different kinds of constructivism is that I wouldn't have had two
thoughts to rub together if it was not for those books. I do disagree with them
now and strongly, but they were very important to me all the same.






What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the
world in a global way?






I'd be
more comfortable answering that question as someone who was, until relatively
recently, a grad student. I've not been productive long enough to say 'Well,
here's how to succeed in this business and be a theorist of enduring substance
or importance' with any authority. But I can say, 'here's how I'm trying to be
one.' There's a famous article by Albert O. Hirschman called 'The Principle of
the Hiding Hand,' (PDF here)
and in it he says that frequently, the only way one can get through really
large or complicated projects is to delude oneself as to how hard the project
is actually going to be. He takes as an example these ambitious, massively
complicated post-colonial economic projects of the Aswan High Dam variety. The
only way such enormous projects ever get off the ground, he says, is if one
either denies their true complexity or deludes oneself. Otherwise you despair
and you never get it done. From the first day of seminar to dissertation
proposal to job—thank God I had no idea what I was in for, or I might have
quit.







Also,
the job market being what it was, we had to be very, very passionate scholars who
wrote and argued for the sheer intellectual rush and love of writing. And yet,
we also had to be very practical and almost cynical about the way in which the
academic market builds on the prestige of publications and the way in which
prestige becomes shorthand for your commodity value. At least in the US, the
decline of tenure and the emergence of a kind of new class of academics whose
realm of responsibility is specifically to engage in uncomfortable kinds of
political and moral critique—but without tenure, and at the mercy of a sometimes
feckless dean, an overburdened department chair or fickle colleagues—that's very scary. If you're doing 'normal
science', it's a different game and the challenges are different. But if your
job is to do critique, in the last ten years, it's a very big deal. Very
difficult. I'm very fortunate in that regard; at Alabama I've had great support
from my department, my chair, and my college.







I was a
Johns Hopkins PhD, and my department was fantastic in terms of giving me
support, encouragement, getting out of my way while throwing interesting books
at me, reading drafts that were bad and helping me make them good—or at least
telling me why they were bad. We did
not get particularly good professional training, because I think they did not
want us to get professionalized before we found our own voice. I'm really
grateful for that, truly. But then there's this period in which you have to
figure out how to make your voice into a commodity. That's really tough, it's a
little bit disheartening—even to discover that you must be a commodity is dismaying; didn't we go into the academy to avoid
this sort of logic? But just like Marx says, commodities have a double life, and
so do you. The use-value of your scholarship and its exchange-value do not
interlock automatically and without friction. So you spend all this time on the
use-value of it—writing a cool, smart, interesting dissertation—thinking that
will translate into exchange-value, and it turns out that it sort of does, but
a lot of other things translate into exchange-value too that aren't really about
how good your work is necessarily. And many of your colleagues, if what you're
doing is original, won't really understand what you're doing; the value or the
creativity of it won't be apparent to them unless they spend a lot of time sifting
through your bad drafts of it, which only a few—but God bless those—will do. So
how you create exchange-value for yourself is important. So is finding people
who will care about you, your project, your future—and learning when to take
their advice, when to ignore it, and how to do so tactfully.







If all that's
hard, you're probably doing it right. It's unfortunate that that's how it is,
but at all events, that's how it was for me.











Would you elaborate on the concept of
vocation and why this is so important to the view from nowhere? It is important
to say that the view from nowhere is perhaps difficult. So is vocation, or a
kind of Weberian approach, a way to articulate that for you?







There's
a quote in a book from a Brazilian novelist named Machado de Assis. His
protagonist is this fellow Bras Cubas, who's writing a posthumous memoir of his
own life. He's writing from beyond the grave. From there, he can view his whole
life and his entire society from outside; he's finally achieved positivism's
view from nowhere. But the thing about this view—and the book means to be a
sendup of the Comtean positivism that was fashionable in Brazil in those
days—is that it gives him no comfort. He now knows why he lived his life the
way he did; how he failed and what was—and what was not—his fault. The
absurdity of it all makes sense. But it changes nothing: he has died
unfulfilled, unloved, and essentially alone: a minor poet and back-bench politician
who was ultimately of little use to anyone nor of much to himself. All he knows
is how that happened.







In the
end, if we're all playing a role in how a world comes into being and it's in
some sense our job simply to accept this, and our job as scholars merely to
explain it, this gives us no comfort in the face of suffering, in the face of
violence and evil. To some extent as scholars, and to some extent as a
discipline, we exist as a response to evil, to suffering, to foolishness, to
folly; it's not a coincidence that the first professorship of IR is created in
Britain in the wake of WWI, and that it's given to someone like E. H. Carr.







If we
don't have a view from nowhere because we've given up anything like a moral
sense that can't be reduced to fractional, material, or ideological
sensibilities, and if we know that sometimes those 'views from somewhere' can
provide cover for terrible kinds of evil or justify awful kinds of suffering,
then the notion of vocation seems to come in at that point and say well,
'here's what I hope I'm doing', or 'here's what I wish to be doing', or 'here's
what I'd like to think I'm doing', and then allowing others to weigh in and
give their two cents. Vocation, in the sense of Weber's lectures, comes out of
that. It's Kant for social scientists: What can I know? What should I do? For
what may I hope? In other words, what the necessity and obligation of thinking
is on the one hand, and on the other what its limitations are.







This is
a way to save International Relations from two things: one, from relativism and
perspectivism, and the other, from a descent into the technocratic or the
managerial. I am trying to stand between the two. My own intellectual
background was in security studies at Tel Aviv University in the 1990s: the
period immediately after Maastricht, in the period of the Oslo Process, the end
of Apartheid. My hope back in the days when the peace process seemed to me to
be going well was that I'd be able to have a kind of technocratic job in
Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Defense. Counting tanks, or something
similar. I thought that would be a pretty good job. I would be doing my part to
maintain a society that had constructed a stable, long-term deterrent by which
to meaningfully address the problem of Jewish statelessness and vulnerability,
but without the disenfranchisement of another people. I could sit down and
count my tanks with a clear conscience, because the specter of evil was being
removed from that work. The problem of the occupation was being be solved.
Again, it's somewhat embarrassing to admit this now.







I would
say in the US academy, there is definitely a balance in favor of the
technocrats. We have enormous machines for the production and consumption of
PhDs in this country. The defense establishment is an enormous player. Groups
like the Institute for Defense Analysis need a lot of PhDs, the NSF funds a lot
of PhDs (for now, at least), and that tips the balance of the profession in a
certain way. My ability to use ideas compellingly at ISA won't change that fact
all by itself, there's a base-superstructure issue in play there.







In
Europe, it's a different story, for a bunch of reasons. The defense
establishments of the EU member states aren't as onerous a presence. And, there
are more of them; so there's a kind of diversity there and a need to think
culturally about how these various institutions interlock and how people learn
to talk to each other: the Martha Finnemore-to-Vincent Pouliot-to-Iver Neumann (Theory Talk #52) study of ideas and institutions and
officials. Plus, you have universities like the EUI and the CEU, which are not
reducible to any particular national interest or education system; creating
knowledge, but for a political/state form that's still emergent. No one knows
exactly what it is, what its institutions and interests will ultimately be.
Because of that, it's hard to imagine the EUI producing scholars with obviously
nationally-inflected research programs, like Halford Mackinder,
Mahan, Ratzel from a century
ago. There will still be reifications and ideologies, but there's more 'give'
since the institutions are still in play. And there's fantastically interesting
stuff happening in Australia, and in Singapore—think of people like Janice
Bialley-Mattern, Tony Burke and Roland Bleiker.











Critique has a long and controversial
history in our discipline. Could you perhaps elaborate, as a kind of background
or setting, how critique can be used in IR and why you've placed it at the
center of your approach to IR theory?







Critique
as term of art comes into the profession through Robert Cox (Theory Talk #37) and through the folks that were writing
after him in the '90s, including Neufeld, Booth, Wyn-Jones, Rengger, Linklater and
Ashley—though pieces of the reflexive practice of critique are present in the
field well before. For Cox, the famous line is that theory is always 'for
something and for someone.' The question is, if that's true how far down does
that problem go? Is it a problem of epistemology and method, or is it a problem
of being as such, a problem of ontology? Is it fundamental to the nature of
politics?







If the
set of processes to which we refer when we speak of 'thinking' is inherently
for someone and for something, and that problem harkens back to the idea that
all thinking is grounded in one's interests and perspectives, i.e., that all
practical or systematic attempts to understand politics are 'virtuous' in the
Machiavellian sense (they serve princely interests) but not necessarily in the Christian
sense (deriving from transcendent values), then we have a real problem in keeping
those two things separate in our minds. Think of Linklater's book Men and Citizens in International Relations
as a key node in that argument, though Linklater ultimately believes (at least
in that book) that a reconciliation between the two is possible. I'm less
convinced.







Now
recall the vocation point we discussed before. IR as a discipline has a deep
sense of moral calling which goes beyond princely interest. And the traditions
on which it draws are as much transcendently normative as anything else. So
encoded in our ostensibly practical-Machiavellian analyses is going to be
something like a sense of Christian virtue; we'll believe we're not merely
correct in our analyses, but really and
truly right in some otherworldly, transcendent way. True or not, that sense
of conviction will attach itself to our thinking, to the political forces and
agendas that we're serving. We'll come to believe that we are citing
Machiavelli in the service of something greater: whether that's 'scientific
truth' or the national interest, or what have you. Nothing could be more
dangerous than that. Critique, as an intervention, comes here: to dispel or
chasten those beliefs. Harry Gould, Brent Steele, and especially Ned Lebow (Theory Talk #53) write about prudence and a sense of
finitude: these are the close cousins of this kind of critique.







If we
take seriously the notion that people sometimes fight and kill in the service
of really awful causes while believing they are doing right, and that scholars
sometimes help them sustain those convictions rather than disabuse them of them—even
if they do not intend this—then critique becomes an awfully big problem and it
really threatens to undermine the profession as such. It opens up a whole new
level of obligation and responsibility, and it magnifies what might otherwise
be staid 'inside baseball'—Intramural scholarly or methodological debates. Part
of the reason why the 'great debates' were so great—so hotly fought—had to do
with this: our scholarly debates were, in fact, ideological ones.







It
undermines the field in another way as well. If we take critique seriously,
there's got to be a lot of moral reflection by scholars. That will make it hard
to produce scholarship quickly, to be an all-purpose intellectual that can
quickly produce thought-product in a policy-appropriate way, because I will
want to be thinking from another space, and of course precisely what
policy-makers want is that you don't
think from some other space; that you present them with 'shovel ready' policy
that solves problems without creating new ones.







So you
now have not just a kind of theoretical or methodological interruption in the
discussion of, say, absolute or relative gains. You now have to give an account
of yourself. And for me, that's what critique in IR means. To unpack the
definition I gave above, it's the attempt to give an account of what the duties
and limits of one's thinking are in the context of politics, given the nature
of politics as we understand it. Because IR comes out of the Second World War,
we're bound to take the most capacious notions of what political evil and
contingency can be; if we are not always in the midst of genocide and ruin,
then we are at least potentially so. And so contingency and complexity and all
the stuff that we're talking about must face that. I want to hold out that Carl
Schmitt and Hans Morgenthau might be
right—in ways which neither they, nor I, can completely fathom. Then I have
to give accounts of thinking that take a level of responsibility commensurate
with that possibility.







In that
vein, when I look at accounts of thinking in the context of the political, when
I look at what concepts are and how they work and how they do work on the world
so that it can be rendered tractable to thought, I realize that what we come up
with when we're done doesn't look very much like politics anymore. We have
tools which, when applied to politics, change it quite dramatically; they reify
or denature it. To be critical in the face of that, you're going to be obliged
to an extensive degree of self-interrogation and self-checking, which I call chastening.







That process
of chastening reason, is, in effect, what remains of the enlightenment obligation
to use practical reason to improve what Bacon called the human estate. What's
left of that obligation is to think in terms of the betterment of other human beings
as best as you can, knowing you can't do that very well, but that you may still
be obliged to try.







That's
really hard to do and it's an odd form of silence and non-silence. After all,
if I were to look at the Shoah while it was happening, or look at what happened
in Rwanda, and say 'well, I don't really have a foundational position on which
to stand so I can't analyze or condemn that'—that would not be a morally
acceptable position. Price and Reus-Smit (TheoryTalk #27) say this
in their 1998 article and they are absolutely right. But then there's the fact
that I don't quite know what to say beyond 'stop murdering people!' The world
is so easy to break with words, and so hard to put back together with them—assuming
anyone cares at all about anything we say. So I am obliged to respond to those
kinds of events when I see them, and I am also obliged to acknowledge that I
can't respond to them well, because my authority comes from the conceptual tools
I have, and they aren't really very good. Essentially, what I'm doing as
scholar of IR is the equivalent is using the heel of my shoe to hammer in a nail.
(That's a nice line, no? I wish it was mine, but it's Hannah Arendt.) It will
probably work, but it will take a while, and the nail won't go in so straight. To
chasten one's thinking is to remind oneself that the heel of one's shoe is not
yet a hammer; that all we're doing is muddling through—even when we do our work
with absolute seriousness and strict attention to detail, context and method—as
of course we should.











You discuss IR theory in terms of different
reifications. In which was does that also lead you to take a stand against a Weberian
understanding of IR?







I think
where I depart from Weber is that he has more faith than I do that, at some
point, disenchantment produces something better. There is faith or hope on
their part that the iron cage that we experience as a result of disenchantment
and as a result of the transformation from earlier forms of charismatic and
traditional authority to contemporary rational ones won't always be oppressive,
not forever. New forms and ways of being will emerge, in which those
disenchanted modes actually will fulfill their promise for a kind of
improvement in the human estate. If it's a long, complicated process—hence the
image of slow boring into hard wood—but faith is still justified, good things
can still happen.







For me,
the question is how would you manage a society that is liable to go insane or
to descend into moments of madness because of the side-effects or intervening
effects of disenchantment and modernization, while holding fast to the notion
that at some point, this is going to get better for most people? I'm a bit less
certain about that than I read Patrick and Weber being. I think that even if
they're right, it makes sense morally as scholars, not necessarily as citizens
or individuals or people, to dwell in the loss of those who fall along the way.








I find
myself thinking about the people who are gone a lot. My ex-wife teaches on
slavery, and I think a lot about this terrible thing she once told me. On slave
ships, when there was not enough food they would throw the people overboard
because ship masters got insurance money if their property went overboard, but
not if human beings succumbed on-ship. There's a scene depicting this in
Spielberg's film Amistad and it
haunts me. I find myself thinking about those people, dragged under with their
chains. I wonder what they looked like, what they had to say. I wonder what
they might have created or how their great-great grandchildren children would
have played with my child. I wonder if my best friend or true love was never
born because her or his ancestor died in this way. An enormous number of people
perished. I can't quite believe this, even if I know it's true.







Yoram
Kaniuk, the recently deceased Israeli novelist, wrote that the Israeli state was
built on the ground-up bones of the Jews who couldn't get there because it was
founded too late. I wonder about them too. And when I taught course modules on
Cambodia, I would find myself looking at the photographs made of the people in
Tuol Sleng before they were killed, the photo archives which the prison kept
for itself. There is a mother, daughter, father, brother, son, and I find
myself drawn into their eyes and faces. I don't want those people to disappear
into zeros or statistics. I want somehow to give them some of their dignity
back, and I want to dwell in the tragic nature my own feeling because it bears
remembering that I cannot ever really do that. If I remember that, I will have
some sense of what life's worth is, and I won't speak crassly about
interventions or bombings or wars—wherever I might come down on them. I would
say that it's almost a religious obligation to attend to the memory of those
people. My desire to abide with them makes me very, very suspicious of hope or
progress. I want this practice of a kind of mourning or grief to chasten such
hope.







There's
a problem with that position. Some will point out to me that this will turn
into its own kind of Manichean counter-movement, a kind of Nietzschean ressentiment. Or else that dwelling in
mourning has a self-congratulatory quality to it. And there are certainly
problems with this position at the level of popular or mass politics. We do see
a lot of ressentiment in our
politics. On the left, there's a lot of angry, self-aggrandizing moral
superiority. And you can think about someone like Sarah Palin in the US as a
kind of populist rejection of guilt and responsibility from the right.







But as social
scientists, we might have space to be the voice for that kind of grief, to take
it on and disseminate the ethics that follow from it; to give that grief a
voice. That kind of relentless self-chastening is what I'm all about. I think
it opens you up to new agendas and possibilities. I think it's a much deeper
way to be 'policy relevant' than most of my colleagues understand this term. If
we are relentlessly self-critical as scholars, and if we relentlessly resist
the appropriation of scholarly narratives to simplistic moral or political ends
and if we, as a society, help to build an intolerance of that and a sense of
the mourning that comes out of that, we also open our society up to say things
like, 'ok, well what's left?'







And
then, well, maybe a lot of things are left, and some of them are not so bad. Maybe
we start to imagine something better. That's where I'd rejoin Jackson and
Weber; after that set of ethical/emotional/spiritual moves. I think, by the
way, that Patrick mostly agrees with me; it's only a question of what his work
emphasizes and what mine has emphasized. On this point, consider Ned Lebow's
notion of tragedy. He and I disagree on some of the details of that notion. But
on top of his remarkable erudition, he's a survivor of the Shoah. I suspect he has thought very deeply about grief and
mourning, and in ways that might not be open to me.











The final question I want to pose to you is
a substantive one: Your understanding of critique somehow does relate to
sustaining progress, in a way. Perhaps on the one hand, you are not so
optimistic as Weber was, but on the other hand, your work conveys the sense
that it is possible to bridge the gap between concepts and things. I'm not sure
if it's possible, but perhaps you can relate it to the substantive example of
how your work relates to concrete political situations. I think the example of
Israel-Palestine comes to mind best.







Again,
I don't think I am as optimistic as that. In my heart of hearts, I desperately
wish this to be the case. To think of the people who were most influential on
my intellectual development—my cohort of fellow grad students at Johns Hopkins
and our teachers, to whom as a group I owe, really, everything in intellectual
terms—I was certainly in the minority view. Most of them were, I think, working
in the Deleuzian vein of making 'theory worthy of the event.' I just don't
believe that's possible; or anyway I think it's really, really, really hard, the work of a generation to tell that
story well and have it percolate out into our discipline and our culture. In
the meantime, we must muddle through. I hope I'm wrong and I hope they're
right. I'm rooting for them, even as I try to give them a hard time—just as I
give Keohane (Theory Talk #9)
and Waltz and Wendt and everyone else I write about a hard time. But I'd be happy, very happy, to
be wrong.







What I
do think can be done is that you can sustain an awareness of the space between
things-in-themselves and concepts, and by extension some sense of the fragility
and the tenuousness of the things that you think and their links to the things
that you do. Out of this emerges a kind of chastened political praxis.







You mentioned
Israel and Palestine, which I care a great deal about and am trying to address
more squarely in the work I'm doing now, partly on my own and partly in pieces I've
worked on with my colleague Daniel Monk. What we observe is that though the diplomatic
negotiations failed pretty badly twelve and a half years ago, we're still
looking at the same people running the show: the same principal advisers and
discussants and interlocutors: in the US and Israel and in the Palestinian Authority.
The same concepts and assumptions too. Just a few days ago, Dennis Ross
published a long op-ed about how we get the peace process back on track, and
you might think that you're reading something from another time—as though the
conflict were a technical challenge rather than a political one. You know that
Prince song about 'partying like it's 1999'?







I don't
know what a peaceful, enriching, meaningful Israeli-Jewish-Arab-Palestinian-Muslim-Christian
collective co-existence or sharing of space or world looks like, but I know
that this pseudo-politics ain't that. When I see something that's just a
re-hashing, I can say, 'come on guys, that is not thinking, that's recycling
the old stuff and swapping out dates, proper nouns and a few of the verbs.' Nor
is it listening to other voices who might inspire us in different ways, or
might help us rethink our interests, categories and beliefs. Lately, I've been
listening to a band called System Ali, hip-hop guys from Jaffa's Ajami quarter,
who sing in four languages. What they say matters less to me than the fact that
they really seem to like another, they trust each other, they let each voice
sing its song and use its words. They have something to teach me about
listening, thinking, acting and feeling—because it's music after all—and that
can produce its own political openings.







Of course,
there are pressure groups, from industry and AIPAC to
whatever else in the US, and those groups merit discussion and debate, but I'm
also wary of the counter-assumption which follows from folks who talk about
this too reductively: that there actually is an American interest, or a
European or Arab or Israeli one, which somehow transcends partisan interest—one
that can be recovered once the diaspora Jews, the oil moguls, the arms dealers
or the Christian 'Left Behind' people are taken out of the picture. That feels
like the same heady brew that Treitschke and Meinecke and the German realpolitik scholars poured and drank:
that the national state has some transcendent purpose to which we gain access
by rising above or tuning out the voices of the polity or its chattering
classes. Only with a light liberal-internationalist gloss: Meinecke meets David
Lake (Theory Talk # 46),
Anne-Marie Slaughter or John Ikenberry.







I can
also go meet starry-eyed idealists who want to hold hands and sing John Lennon,
I can say to them yes, I want to hold your hand and sing John Lennon, but I am
also enough of a social scientist to know that if a policy does not respond to
real and pressing problems—water, land, borders etc.—that any approach that
does not respond to those things will be hopelessly idealist. It will be what
my granny called luftmentsch-nachess—the
silly imaginings of men with their heads in the clouds, like the parable about Thales
and the Thracian maiden. I am not interested in being either a luftmentsch nor a technocrat. So what
does that leave with you with? You need to balance.







You can
look at groups at the margins of political culture to see what they can tell
you. In Israel and Palestine, it's groups like Ta'ayush, Breaking the Silence and Zochrot, and this settler
leader who recently died, Rabbi Frohman, who was going out and meeting every
Palestinian leader he could because for him, being a Jew in the land was not,
in the first instance about his Israeli passport. There were and are
possibilities for discussion that feel really pregnant and feel very different
from the conversation we are sustaining now; which reveal its shallowness and
its limitations and its pretentiousness. These other voices are of course not
ideal either, they are going to have their own problems and limitations, their
own descent into power and exclusion and so on, but they reveal some of the lie
of what we're doing now.







I guess
in the end, social scientists make a living imagining the future on the basis
of the past. I also spend a lot of time reading novels and watching books and
films. Partly because I am lazy and I like them. Partly because I'm looking for
those novels and films to help me imagine other possibilities of being that
aren't drawn from the past. Art, Dewey tells us in The Public and its Problems,
is the real bearer of newness. Maybe then, I get to grab onto those things and
say ok, what if we made those them responsive to an expansive materialist
analysis of what an Israeli-Palestinian peace would need to survive? What if we
held the luftmentsch's feet to the
materialist/pragmatic fire, even as we held the wonk's feet to the luftmentsch's fire? Let them both squeal
for a while. There's possibility there.







Daniel J. Levine is assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Among his recent publications (see below) stands out his book Recovering International Relations.



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Related links








Faculty Profile at U-Alabama
Read the first chapter of Levine's Recovering IR (2012) here (pdf)
Read Barder and Levine's The World is Too Much (Millennium, 2012) here (pdf)
Read Levine's Why Morgenthau was not a Critical Theorist (International Relations, 2013) here (pdf)
Read Monk and Levine's The Resounding Silence here (pdf)




Print version of this Talk (pdf)

MAY, 1901 o oTheo o Qettysbur Mercury VOL. NO PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE GETTYSBURG,PA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Amos Eckert Dealer in Hats, Shirts, Ties, Um-brellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, Pocket Books,J-Trunks, J>J> Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc. AMOS ECKERT. PRICES ALWAYS RIGHT. TUB Llltta No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for Any-thing and Everything- in the way of Books for Churches, Families, Colleges and Schools, and Literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending- your orders to us you help build up* and develop one of the church institutions, with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Supt., No. 1424 Arch St. Phila. 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPYRIGHTS &C. Anyone sending a sketch mid description mnv quickly ascertain our opinion free whether ah invention is probably pulentable. Communica-tions strictly confidential. Handbook on Patents sent free. Oldest apency for securing patents. Patents taken throuph Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, in the Scientific American, A handsomely illustrated weekly. Largest olr-culationof any scientific journal. Terms, $3 a year; four months, $1. Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN & Co.36lB">adwa>- New York Branch Office, 626 F St., Washington, D. C. J. I. MUMPER, PHOTOGRAPHER, 29 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Special attention paid to COLLEGE WOKE A fine collection of Battlefield Views always on hand. Mail orders receive prompt at-tention. C. A. Blocher's Jewelry Store, For Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, Etc. All kinds of Jewelry. Repairing a Specialty POST OFFICE CORNER CENTRE SQUARE THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS The Social Qualities of Robert Burns as Manifested in His Poems, 70 The Cultivation of Patriotism, . 77 Superlatives, . 80 Perseverance, . 82 A Dutch Schoolmaster's Adventure, . . . . .84 Editorials, . 88 An Old Reader, . 90 Pictures, . 91 Spontaneity in Literature, . . . . . .93 In Nature's Realm, . 96 A Country Barn on a Rainy Day, . . - . 97 All Souls Day, . 98 Exchanges, . 100 Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing! Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long. -Milton. Through wood, and stream, and field, and hill, and Ocean, A quickening life from the Earth's heart has burst As it has ever done, with change and motion, Prom the great morning of the world when first God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed The lamps of heaven flash with a softer light; All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst; Diffuse themselves; and spend in love's delight The beauty and the joy of their renewed might. -Shelley. 70 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE SOCIAL QUALITIES Of ROBERT BURNS AS MANIFESTED IN MIS POEMS D. C. BURNITE, '01 [Graeff Prize Essay] A CAREFUL comparison of the lives of poets, with their pro- ■*"*• auctions, discloses this fact, that almost universally there exists more or less inconsistency betiveen their true characters and the characters which their poems would lead us to believe they really possessed. In some cases the former belie the latter completely. In others, the works are in a large measure faithful transcripts of the men. Great uncertainty would attend an at-tempt to paint pictures of the natures of many poets were we to use as materials only the evidence drawn from their productions. Recurring bombast and affectation preclude any possibility of using their poems, with any great amount of reliability, as stand-ards by which to judge their real characters. Not so, however, with all poets. Here and there in the field of our inspection appears a bard, whose writings are a faithful reflection of his real nature. But before we can be sure that this is true of any poet, we must be certain that he is thoroughly sin-cere. So, before we can proceed to show that the qualities indi-cated in the poems of Burns are revelations of his actual personal characteristics, we must prove his sincerity. And we do this, not by a comparison of his verses with his biography, but by testi-mony drawn from the poems themselves, apart from all historical evidence. Men who talk much of themselves, as Burns does, are not gen-erally prone to admit their own shortcomings. But this poet, contrary to general practice, makes no attempt to present only the good side of his character. Frequently he gives us glimpses of his own weaknesses; not a shameless exhibition of guile, but always with expressions of sorrow and remorse. Never hidden, always open, he bares his whole heart, and shows himself as he is. He seems anxious to have us see him in a true light. How frankly and clearly he reveals his true self when he proposes "A Bard's Epitaph" for his own tomb. Read his condemnation of his own self: . THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 71 " Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, "Wild as the wave; Here pause—and thro' the starting tear Survey this grave. " The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name !" Can we read this and believe that Burns was not sincere ? But there are other evidences of his genuineness. Affectation and sincerity are incompatible. But, no matter how closely we scrutinize his lines, we find no indications of the former in Burns' works He must have been a lover of the truth, for he never descends to the expression of feigned emotions. His pictures are real; all are undoubtedly the products of his own experience. Of his hundreds of poems, with one or two exceptions, none are the offspring of imagination. All he presents he himself has seen and felt. We see no indications of anything assumed about his addresses "To a Mouse" and "To a Mountain Daisy." Neither is there anything false or overdrawn in his descriptions. Per-fectly natural himself, he presents things as they are. Nothing could be written with much more fidelity to life than his "Cotter's Saturday Night." Without his characteristic straightforward-ness such complete depiction of Scottish peasant life would have been impossible. All his poems manifest in the man a spirit of genuineness and deep sincerity. With this conviction, then, that Burns wrote exactly as he saw, thought, and felt, we can be certain that the social qualities which his poems suggest are identical with those he really pos-sessed. Our investigation, then, involves an answer to the question, What social qualities do Burns' poems make us think he pos-sessed ? With this answered, we then know, with some measure of accuracy, what Burns himself was socially—what it was that, in all probability, must have rendered him an ever-welcome guest both in the humble homes of the Scottish peasantry and in the mansions of the gentry. But in order that we may be competent judges as to what features in his social nature were attractive and 72 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY what were not, we must make allowance for the differences in time, place, and circumstances, and view the matter, not from oicr point of view, but from the standpoint of his Scottish contempo-raries. Only then can we avoid the danger of an over or an under estimation of the man's social constitution. We have already spoken of what we regard as the crowning social virtue of any man—sincerity. "L,et a man but speak forth with genuine earnestness the thought, the emotion, the actual condition of his own heart, and other men must and will give heed to him."* Burns, as we have stated, does this. We here have a certain quality which would of itself draw men to its possessor. A writer whose poetic works are imbued throughout with the truth must himself have been sincere. Burns must have attracted his fellows because of this one social quality, if for nothing else. The whole world loves a patriot. Even those of other nations than his own admire him; but especially his own countrymen. Burns' poems indicate the presence of patriotism in the heart of their author. Compare his stanzas with those of former Scottish bards, and what do we find ? The subjects of their themes are foreign, and they even scout their own native dialect. The poeti-cal works of Burns are the initial achievement of a new era in his nation's literature. He is the first to give out a body of dis-tinctively Scottish poetry. He saw no need to step beyond the borders of his own laud for things of which to sing. He writes of things, not English, or Irish, or Continental, but of things Scottish—thoroughly so, from his country's ' 'braes'' to her moun-tains, from her field-mice to her horses, from her beggars to her kings, from her daisies to her trees, from her " burns" to her rivers; all of his own "bonnie laud." Nor does he hesitate to take the initiative of using the language of his fireside; not, however, because he was unable to write in pure English. Some of his poems show that he could. But he prefers his native tongue, and seems to delight in the use of its quaint expressions. He appears proud of his dialect, and all he describes with it. In almost every poem there breathes the true spirit of patriotism, a quality which we believe helped to make his society desirable. What Scotchman could have avoided a feeling of attraction to the "loyal native" who wrote such things * ♦Carlyle. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 73 .'* ' j as "My Heart's in the Highlands" or "Scots wha hae wi' Wal-lace bled?" Another social characteristic is revealed in his verses; a trait indispensable to gaining the good-will of the Scottish peasantry. How generously he applies himself to the faithful interpretation of the thoughts, feelings and manners of that class amongst whom he was reared ! His poetry teems with this natural sympathy for the lowly inhabitant of the thatched cottage. His were the first Scottish poems to show it, and from it we can be sure that the man himself thoroughly loved the humble people of whom he writes. How nobly he exalts their simple lot in the words he puts into the mouth of Luath, "the ploughman's collie" in "The Twa Dogs." In the "Cotter's Saturday Night" he brings to the notice of the humble bread-winners, not the ills, but the blessings of their toilsome lives. He would make them proud of their station and their labor. He appears at all points to have been a thorough democrat, and evidently was in close touch with the lives of the poorest people. It is such qualities as these that hold men in social esteem, with thehighas well as the low. A highly sympathetic nature was a social trait which undoubtedly helped to make Burns popular. Cheerfulness is a prime essential to social success. A glance convinces us that the man who wrote these poems surely had this attribute. Such a one must have cheered the lives and bright-ened the very faces of those with whom he came in contact. At every turn we meet his genial poetic laughter. And this, too, in the same poems in which he tells of his own misfortunes. To be happy in adversity; what an enviable trait! And if he could shake off his coil of pitiful thought and recognize the good things in his own life, he surely would shed some beams of happiness on the lives of those about him. All his songs attest this quality. "When at his best, you seem to hear the whole song warbling through his spirit, naturally as a bird's."* Note it in this stanza: "Ye banks land braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care?" A vein of humor makes its possessor welcome. "I,augh, and the world will laugh with you." Doubtless Burns' little world "Jeffrey. 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY enjoyed many a laugh with him. For some of his poems fairly bubble with humor. And the author of these must have exhibited a like trait when he spoke, as well as when he wrote. We realize this when we "Remember Tarn O'Shauter's Mare;" or read the following from "Death and Dr. Hornbook": "The Clachan yill had made me canty, I was nae fou, but just had plenty; I stacher'd whyles, but yet took tent ay To free the ditches; An' hillocks, stanes, an' bushes, kenn'd ay Frae ghaists and witches. "The rising- moon began to glow'r The distant Cumuock hills out owre; To count her horns wi' a' my pow'r, I set mysel'; But whether she had three or four, I could na tell." These and many other poems, manifest in Burns himself a spirit of jocularity which, we believe, heightened the attractive-ness of his nature wherever he went. That a man was a friend of "John Barleycorn" was no social defect in Burns' day. And he'seems, from his poems, to have been a participant in "those convivial enjoyments which were not only counted excusable by the temper of the time, but gloried in by all whose heads were strong enough to indulge in them without ruin."* In fact, as a "total, abstainer" Burns' social career would likely have been curtailed. It is perfectly natural, therefore, that he gives drink and drinking a very prominent place in his verses. And the fact that he does so leads us to conclude that he was a not infrequent participant in the then prevalent jolly tavern carouses. Many evidences in his poems manifest his inclination toward convivial enjoyments of a more healthy character. He seems to have had a fondness for other gatherings than those where the consumption of "usquebae" was the central feature. We refer to such social functions as he speaks of in his "Hallow E'en." He evinces perfect familiarity with the jolly practices of that mysterious night, as he describes the mirthful sports of the country "lads and lasses." In fact, his frequent description of J *Blackwood'6. Feb., 1872. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 75 such scenes convinces us that he must have been an important member of the peasant society of his locality. But we see evidences that he would also make a valuable ad-dition to a higher plane of society than that of his own country-side. The mere fact that he was able to produce such remarkable verses is enough to show that he was fitted to move on a higher level than that of the peasant class. We can treat only briefly of a few of the many manifest traits which, besides those already cited, would make him a social attraction in the hall as well as in the hut. It is hard to prove conclusively from his poems that Burns was a good conversationalist. But we think there are indications that warrant us in believing that he was. The ease with which we understand the thoughts he wishes to convey in his lines, i. e., his extreme simplicity, together with his vivacity of expression and his powers of vivid description, lead us to think that he was a good talker. Nor would such a writer be at a loss for topics for conversation. He seems perfectly familiar with the full details of an immense variety of topics. Burns undoubtedly was at perfect ease in conversation. A keen insight into human nature, as we see it in his verses, would enable him to throw himself quickly into close sympathy with new associates; an almost invaluable social quality. His oft-appearing spirit of independence would gain him respect. The thoughtful tenderness he exhibits, not only for his fellow-men, but for beasts and flowers, too, suggests a feature in his nature which would draw men to him. Thus we see in his poetry, char-acteristics which would make his company acceptable to those of high rank. Of Burns' actual social successes in a certain direction, we have positive evidence. The great majority of his poems are con-cerning women with whom he has been in love, or at least ad-mired greatly. And we can easily see that, if not as a lover, at least as an admirer, he was accepted in .some cases. At any rate, we can judge from these poems that he had sufficient attractions to make him acceptable among the lasses of his native land. This gives us a clue, though an uncertain one, to his personal appear-ance and manners. To have been admired by so many women, he must have been to some degree attractive in looks and move-ments. 76 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURi Thus far we have considered only those things in Burns for which he was undoubtedly admired. But he shows traits that we cannot believe were acceptable to all of his contemporaries, for he refers in different passages to the fact that he had enemies. Certainly there were some who did not admire all he did; but just as we are limited in giving all his good qualities, by the fact that he does not make manifest in his poems all the traits he really pos-sessed, so are we limited, but to a greater degree, in observing all his bad qualities; for though he constantly confesses that he had monstrous faults, he has not specified what the particular immor-alities were that he committed, and we cannot know all these without referring to his biography. However, he does exhibit definitely some traits which, we believe, would be hindrances to his free movement among all classes of society. Profanity may have been attractive to his tavern associates, but must have been a shock to the strict piety which we know prevailed in his community. Reference to "Holy Willie's Prayer" manifests a spirit approaching blasphemy, an indication that the poet himself was probably not averse to the use of strong expressions by word of mouth, as well as pen. As a sincere man, Burns was a hater of hypocrisy, upon which subject he wrote several poems. But this feeling leads him into a fault. The satires he has written against hypocrites are too bitter to be commended. Were we to see only those works, we would have little desire to meet their writer. The acrimony of his invective seems unreasonable and repulsive, rather than at-tractive. We have mentioned Burns' drinking habits; but though we have no direct testimony in his poems that he himself was over indulgent, yet some of the scenes he depicts make clear that he must have been present at them, or he could not have described them so well. He at least practically confesses that he frequented places and associated with persons of low repute. Whether it is likely that he indulged in the orgies he describes, the reader can judge from the evidence. Such tendencies as these thus indi-cated certainly did not at that time constitute admirable social qualities. That Burns was positively vulgar, we must admit. A look into certain of his poems, which we do not deem fit to make more public by quoting them here, will convince us of this. It is seen, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 77 for instance, in certain lines of ' 'The Kirk's Alarm.'' A betrayal of such lack of decency, in the eyes of some, would seriously affect his social character. Though to many persons the absence of Christian qualities in a man would be no social objection, yet we must be of the opinion that Burns' great lack in this regard would form a barrier to his entrance into close acquaintance with many persons at his time. We are sorry to admit that such a genius, in all his works, shows no spirit of true devotion to his Creator and His Son. Probably a closer inspection of Burns' lines would manifest more qualities wherein he would be attractive or not; but we think we have drawn from his poems enough of both kinds to indicate whether or not he deserved to be popular. It is our decision that his good far outweigh his bad social qualities. We believe that were Burns' biography to be forever lost, with noth-ing but his poems for grounds from which to reason, the world today, were he to come back again, would greet him—just as Scotland would have done immediately after his death—with open arms. And we would welcome him, if for nothing else, because of his social qualities as manifested in his poems. THE CULTIVATION OP PATRIOTISM FRANK LBNKER, '03 HPO have a thorough understanding of the subject one must ^ necessarily have a full and true conception of the meaning of the word patriotism. Patriotism is—" L,ove and devotion to one's country, the spirit that originating in love of country prompts to obedience to its laws, to the support and defense of its exist-ence, rights and institutions and to the promotion of its welfare." From the definition of the word it is readily seen that without patriotism no good government can exist and by as much as the people of a nation are patriotic or unpatriotic, by so much that nation will be either pre-eminent or debased in the galaxy of nations. Patriotism is of different kinds. It is patriotism that leads a man to shoulder his musket and amid storms of applause and the entrancing strains of his national air to dare to fight for his country's honor. It is still greater patriotism that enables him to endure 78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the privations and hardships of a severe campaign and which enables him, when some very daring service is required, willingly to lay down his life. It is patriotism that a man displays when for a season he leaves the pleasures of his home, neglects his business and exposes himself to the censure of those opposed to him, to become a voice of the people in the nation's council. But only the true statesman, the man who stands for right and principle against personal interests, displays this patriotism. Then, too, anyone may be a true patriot. He need not be a soldier, he need not be a statesman, but one thing Me must be—a man—a man true and firm, a man of high principle and lofty sent-iments and above all he must dare to stand by the right. If each one should place his country's welfare above his struggle for per-sonal gain and aggrandizement, what a powerful nation such men would constitute. It is acknowledged that there is no power equal to the mother's in shaping the characters and disposition of the young. If the solemn duties and obligations of motherhood could but be more strongly intrenched in the minds of those who have assumed the positions of wives and mothers, patriotism would surely become a more self-sacrificing and deep-seated kind. Mothers should endeavor to bring their children up to maturity even-minded and devoted to their country and to their God. Early in life children should be taught to reverence the starry ensign—the symbol of their freedom, to respect the nation's laws —safeguards of their liberty, and above all to know our history. Let them know how the nation was established on a foundation of right, cemented with the blood of some of the noblest men who ever lived. Let them know how, when the nation was in its in-fancy, our statesmen studied and planned so that laws tending only to progress might be promulgated. Let them know how gallantly our warriors punished England's insult to that banner, which so long as the true American spirit prevails will tell of the freedom of our nation and assure every American citizen protec-tion abroad or a speedy vengeance if molested. It should not be forgotten to tell them of the Civil War which for a time threatened to disrupt the Union. Tell them how the North was arrayed against the South and how bravely brother engaged brother to the death. But most emphatically tell them that each fought for principle. They fought not concerning petty THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 79 matters but rather concerning deep-rooted belief that each was right. Then review how at first there seemed to be bitter feeling, then gradually take them through the intervening space of time and at last show them how gloriously a united, a thoroughly . united and closely associated baud of men, representing the North, South, East and West, defeated the cruel Spaniards on San Juan hill. Our young should also be led to hate the greatest curse of the nation, they should be taught to abhor the greatest enemy of true manhood and upright living—the moral-debasing and character-weakening rum. Can a drunkard be a true patriot? No, most decidedly not. For how can a man who weakens himself morally, physically and mentally by using the vile stuff offer his ablest and best services to his country either as a statesman, a soldier, or as an exemplary private citizen. Double-dealing, rottenness and corporation influence in politics is another great evil and the one which probably above all others might possibly cause the downfall of these United States. Oh, would that some of our statesmen were more honorable men, would that they were more stalwart warriors in the defense of right and more zealous to forward measures drawn up for the public good rather than for personal gain and advantage ! L,et those, in whose power it is to elect the law-makers, cast their ballots for none but honest men. Then, with an honorable man guiding the ship of state, and none but honorable men on the crew, how can it be otherwise than that a more patriotic spirit would be displayed in the next generation. We turn our sad, reluctant gaze Upon the path of duty; Its barren, unwilling' ways Are void of bloom and beauty. Yet in that road, though dark and cold, It seems as we begin it As we press on—I/O ! we behold- There's Heaven in it. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 80 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY SUPERLATIVES J. B. BAKER,'01 WHEN, in accusing Peter of affiliation with Jesus of Nazareth, the morbid scions of Jewish authority, said "Thy speech bewrayeth thee," they described a condition of more than local interest. The sentiment their charge embodied has outlived the perverted Sanhedrin. It prevails to-day and applies to us. We are the heirs of a rich language; londled were we in the lap of opulence and children of fortune are prone to squander. Our language, being as it is a composite one, necessarily, by the survival of the fittest, contains the accumulated grace and vigor of its varied progeny. Its verbs express accurately every shade of human thought, even to the antipodal range of a Shakespeare. Its nouns are like the notes of a pianoforte, so varied is their tone. Its adjectives, in their several degrees embellish even that which already is sublime. They are the grace notes in the vernacular strains and of all things the most difficultly used. The proper adaptation of an adjective, even in the positive de-gree, to its corresponding noun is of itself a task of no mean im-port; the comparative requires more skill, while the superlative, like a run of extras on a key board, is accomplished gracefully, only by a practiced man. And yet how prone we are to use them. With what readiness we carry every thing to a ne plus ultra. Why is it thus? Wherein lies the cause ? Emerson has probably answered it, in his essay on history, without intending directly to do so. After a short disser-tation on the various nations that have come and gone over the highway of time, he says, "But I will make no more account of them. I believe in Eternity, I can find Greece, Palestine, Italy, Spain, the islands, the genius and creative principle ofeach andall eras in my own mind." The much-travelled man does not call each high hill a cloud-piercing peak, nor does he speak of every landscape as nature's last attempt. Those are the foibles of childhood. The evolutions of such whose peregrinations have not as yet translated them be-yond their native shire. Precisely the same is true in the world of thought. The cos-mical mind uses few superlatives. The farther out it pushes into unknown tracts, the more it discovers of hitherto unrevealed re-ality, the closer appears its affinity with it, and with that increasing THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 81 identity there comes an increasing frugality of terms. He who has thoroughly established his identity with all reality could not possibly predicate a superlative of any thing without paying his own self an indirect compliment, and this, if report be true, is of all things the most odious to men of a larger growth. So much' so at least that they will use them stintingly, save only as applied to Divinity. As proof of this we need but resort to the sayings and writings of such great men. The genial paternal Emerson is judiciously sparing even in the use of his comparatives and yet there \s an ex-hilarating loftiness in all his thoughts. The many sided Ruskin speaks most frequently in simple, homely, childlike terms, and yet Carlyle compared his words to copious lightning bolts pour-ing incessantly into the black words of anarchy about him. Tolstoi, whose boldness has incurred the hostility of the Russian royalty, seldom calls things by their hardest names, yet his pen is a very scramasax in the side of monarchial iniquity. Nor is this abstemiousness from any thing that smacks of hy-perbole a characteristic only of him who sits down quietly at his desk and writes in his pacific words. It is characteristic of great men everywhere. Even in the forum, tempest-tossed and raging. The men who kindled and maintained the fires of patriotism through seven years of blood strife were men whose speech was as plain as their garb. A few months training in a country school and a six weeks course in law would not be likely to embellish much the speech of any one. But "give me liberty or give me death" had a potency that added superlatives could not augment. Daniel Webster, in that paragon of American philippics, his reply to Senator Hayne, is deadliest when he is plainest. His unadorned arrows are the swiftest. Lincoln, the great, in his speech on these hallowed grounds, gives us not only a model in structure well worth study, but manifests a chastity in terms seldom seen. Not once, in referring to the war in which we were then engaged, does he use an extravagant term such as thousands of others might with apparent justification have employed, and yet there is an Alpine sublimity pervading it all. So we might continue our citation almost indefinitely, pushing our observations out even beyond the confines ofour native tongue; including all ages past and present, all lands and climes, and find the great men every where corroborating the truth. The greater 82 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the man, the smaller will things appear, and with the diminution of things will come a corresponding frugality of terms; deducting from this the converse and we have in very truth the modern ap-plication of those ancient words, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." PERSEVERANCE EMORY D. BREAM, '02 T^HE old saying, " A rolling stone gathers no moss," has been * illustrated so often, and in so many ways, that when we see a young man going from one thing to another, not following one pursuit long enough to overcome its difficulties, we at once con-clude that he will never amount to much. The youth who comes to college with the intention of being a doctor, a lawyer, or having in view some other profession, and when he encounters difficulties in Greek, mathematics and other hard studies, has not the conquering spirit to master them, shows to a marked degree the lack of persistency. Or if, during his college course, he is swayed from his purpose, and decides to take a special course because he has failed in some department, or there is in the regular course a laborious, abstract subject which he dislikes, and which he has not the courage to attempt, it is evi-dent that he will never be well prepared to face the more difficult problems of life. Hence, instead of steering to a position of trust and honor, he will drift down the stream along with thousands of aimless beings like himself. On the other hand, the young man who chooses a worthy and honorable calling because he knows it is right and noble to do so; because he knows that to attain the desired end he will have to work long and hard; if such a young man will do with his might what his hand findeth to do, and, like Henry Clay, Daniel Webster or Abraham Lincoln, overcome every obstacle that comes in his way, each victory won will strengthen and encourage him for something higher. With such persistency he is bound to make life a success. The boy who enters life as a clerk, and looks forward to the time when he will be a prominent business man, lending a help-ing hand to the needy, using his influence in every good cause or having some other worthy aim, and takes for his motto this I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 83 proverb of Solomon, "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings;" the boy who enters a blacksmith shop, determined to hammer out, as it were, link by link the very chain by which he is to be raised to honor and usefulness; if such boys keep in mind the life of Iceland Stanford or P. D. Armour or Clem. Studebaker, never dreaming of failure, future genera-tions will not fail to call them blessed. The drummer-boy who says to himself, '' I shall not always beat the drum. I will rise just as high as my talents or the neces-sities of war will permit;" the youthful soldier behind the gun, who performs faithfully every duty, no matter how small it may be; if within his breast burns the spirit of patriotism ; if he feel that faithful work insures success, and that success means that a man must make the best possible use of his God-given talents for the benefit of his fellow-men; if he never allow himself to be deceived nor turned from the path of martial glory by spending his time, strength and money in the regimental saloon; if such drummer-boys and soldiers take as their ideal Paul Jones or An-drew Jackson or Ulysses Grant, their names will be recorded on the pages of history. To-day there is a greater need than ever for able men in the pulpit; for h°nest cashiers in our banks; for upright and noble statesmen, who do not enter politics for money or the gratifying of selfish desires; for truly patriotic generals and admirals, like him who was called "Father of His Country," and who will not, after the war is over, fill the columns of our newspapers with abominable wrangling as to who won certain battles, Santiago for instance, or who will be promoted-and who will not. We shall be needed. Our future depends upon the present. To make the best use of our present opportunities, we must per-severe. "Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving' thine out grown shell by life's unresting sea." —The Chambered Nautilus. 84 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY A DUTCH SCHOOLMASTER'S ADVENTURE A. 0. WOLF, '04' SOME eighty years ago, in the vicinity of the little village of Gettysburg, there lived two celebrated characters. One a long, lank, ungraceful Dutch schoolmaster by the name of Joseph Sleutsenslizer, who wielded the birch in a most prolific manner and who was noted for his arrant cowardice and marked suscepti-bility to feminine influences; the other, Mike Miller by name, a type of Herculean manhood, famed for his ability to break the most vicious horse, and for a diposition to indulge in all the pranks and roguish proceedings-of the most recklessly disposed element of the mischievous young men among whom he lived. It so happened that these worthies were rival suitors for the hand of the village belle. Their antagonism had attained to such proportions that our friend Joseph had felt himself constrained to exert his influence to prevent his rival from receiving an invita-tion to a ball which was to be held at a neighbor's home some distance south of the village. For thus, the schoolmaster argued to himself, he would be able to anticipate the advances of his rival and to monopolize the society of the fair one in question. His plans had worked well. The revelry was over. The tracing and retracing of the woof and weft of the dizzy dance by the light of the roaring logs had ended. The dingy rafters had ceased to ring with peals of girlish laughter and strains of the violin. The swish, swish of fantastic feet was no longer heard. Echo from her rocky cavern stepped forth perplexed at the sudden transformation. A scamper for wraps, a change from almost tropic heat to the crisp atmosphere of a November night, and the terpsichorean revelers bid adieu to their host and the dancing. As they trudge homeward beneath the brilliant emblazonry of a star-lit sky, oceans of midnight air poured over the mountains into the forest-covered valley making its branches groan with forebodings of the coming storm. The maidens became startled at the demoniacal laughter of some melancholy night-bird only to give the attentive swains an opportunity for reassuring them. Jest is passed from couple to couple, and their hilarious spirits find vent in snatches of song and in pertinent thrusts of wit. At the fork of the road they separate with a hasty "good night" and a counter ejaculation of unthought-of-until-the-last-moment inter-rogations hurled at each receding party. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 85 Joseph was now reaping the fruit of his well laid scheme, as, with the fairest of the fair maids in the little village on his arm, he turned to the right on the road that leads past Devil's Den. His heart beat wildly for it was rarely that he had the opportunity of enjoying the society of the beautiful but somewhat reticent maid. In fact, the society of others seemed preferable to his own. This made him gloat over his good fortune as an ogre would gloat over his cannibal repast. The infatuated schoolmaster failed to conceive himself anything but a brilliant courtier in at-tendance on the object of his affection. Moreover, his bigotry would not permit him to offer his awkward, uncouth appearance and decidedly rustic air in striking contrast to the trim figure of his companion, as a possible explanation of her reticence and her disposition to indulge in a peculiar sort of suppressed laughter. Suddenly she became communicative and deftly turned the drift of their conversation on ghosts, hobgoblins and other super-stitious fancies so dear to the heart of the early Dutch settler. Oh, what's that ! she cried, clasping his arm in terror. His heart stood still. But just then a passing breeze rustled the dead leaves on a bush by the roadside which she had mistaken for the crouching figure of some wanderer from Spiritland. After this his aroused imagination saw ghosts innumerable; headless hobgoblins and winged fairies. Even the murky air seemed teeming with imaginary hosts. The drift of his com-panion's conversation by no means tended to allay his trepida-tion. In a fearful whisper she told him of a time when her father passed along that very road after nightfall, and how a horned creature with gleaming eyes and nostrils that breathed forth sheets of flame snatched him up and was bearing him away. It became frightened at the wild cry of a panther, dropped him half dead and galloped into a cavern in the adjacent hillside. Again, she related the story of the adventure of a certain deacon which happened at the rocks which they were then Hear-ing. The deacon was going home from a visit to a sick neighbor and on passing the rocks he heard an unearthly crash and felt the rock on which he stood heave under him. Thunder pealed. The sky was kindled by a lurid blaze. The ground was on flame, and fiery torrents came down in tumultuous avalanches. The rocks melted and the valley assumed the aspect of a basin of glowing ore. He bounded with the speed of the wind through the raging 86 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY conflagration. The sulphurous molten tide pursued him, spouting white columns of vapor and sheets of vitreous lava. As he ran, it gained speed on him; when he bounded, the spot Irom which he sprang was on fire before he alighted on the ground. At length he sank exhausted, but the indefatigable lava rolled on like armies rushing to battle. Suddenly the earth quaked and a fissure appeared, out of which leaped a compan}' of devils as if shot from a subterranean catapult. The foremost, whose stature was as that of a tree, advanced and with a claw-like hand had picked him up and was about to hurl him into the bottomless pit. The deacon recollecting himself cried, "Get thee behind me, Satan,'1 which so enraged his captor that, with a horrible roar, he hurled him through the air with such force that he continued his aerial course until he lauded on his own door step. Joseph was now fully aware of his danger. His natural cow-ardice prompted him to cast his eyes in every nook and cranny of that mass of rocks which now bears such a sinister name, and from which he firmly expected to see the beginning of a sponta-neous combustion which would overwhelm him. Nor had he long to wait. Just as they came opposite the rock a blood-curd-ling yell resounded which would have put to shame a vociferous Comanche brave. By a sudden contraction and relaxation of his muscles, Joseph was elevated some three or four feet in the air. He turned to look for his companion, but she was fleeing with the speed of a whirlwind and giving vent to that series of ex-quisitely rendered screeches, in which startled women delight to indulge. Another whoop from the rock, accompanied by the rattle of chains and clank of iron, and Joseph's knees began to strike each other in a remarkable manner. He looked up, and there on the summit of the rock stood his Satanic Majesty plainly outlined against the stony vault. To the excited beholder he seemed panoplied in all the regal habiliments of a prince of the nether world. His hoofs and horns gleamed in the starlight, and from his eyes scintillated the fiery sparks of his wrath. The poor pedagogue was in a serious predicament. His limbs moved convulsively. His hair rose and with it his hat, allowing the cool breeze to fan his throbbing forehead. His heart palpitated wildly. His breath came in short quick gasps. Hoping that he was in some horrible nightmare, and that his visitor would soon vanish, he looked up. His majesty was de- I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 87 liberately stepping to the edge of the rock where he tore a tree from its roots, and with a sepulchral roar leaped headlong, with the tree in his grasp, upon the terrified Joseph. The branches of the tree struck him and bore him to the earth. His tormentor leaped upon him, kicked him, pulled his hair, spat upon him, at the same time producing the most hideous noises. Tired of his diversion, he threw the trunk of the tree across the breast of the prostrate pedagogue and started, roaring like an enraged buffalo, in pursuit of the fleeing girl. A rescuing party, aroused by the clamor, came and released the terror-stricken Joseph and heard his fabulous tale. Their mirth knew no bounds. And ever after when the irate school-master was asked to relate his adventure at the Devil's Den he would exclaim, "Vat ! you dink a Dutchman's a geece, hugh ! Do you dink I shust come over tomorrow ?" This, dear reader, is how Devil's Den came to be so named. Again the sun is over all, Again the robin's evening call Or early morning lay; I hear the stir about the farms, I see the earth with open arms, I feel the breath of May. Century Magazine. Oh, the merry May has pleasant hours, And dreamily they glide, As if they floated like the leaves Upon a silver tide. The trees are full of crimson buds, And the woods are full of birds, And the waters flow to music, Like a song with pleasant words. Willis. & There is something grander than the ocean, and that is con-science; something sublimer than the sky, and that is the interior of the soul. —Victor Hugo. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 E. C. RUBY, 'Oi, Editor-in-Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. F. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant,-E.d,.it.ors Advisor•*y Board . -K, o ,"-. PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. M. IS"S "ANNIE M. .S"W" ARTZ, '02 _ " _ " ." ~ PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. A. B. RICHARD, '02 _ T _. _ ' -. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Peuusj'lvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Fifteen Cents. Notice to discontinue seudiug the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS '"pHE first day of May was once a festival in honor of an Ameri- *■ can "saint," canonized simply by popular acclamation. Our colonial troops deprived themselves of the patronage of St. George by their rebellion, and at once they looked about for a saint of their own. Their choice fell on Tamina, a sagamore of the Delaware Indians, who, tradition says, bad whipped satan. Naturally the soldiers concluded that the conqueror of satan could also overcome St. George. The name of St. Tamina was in-scribed upon the banners of the colonial troops and on the first day of May celebrations were held in his honor. These celebra-tions were a combination of the Indian war dance and the old English May Day frolics. The May-pole was crowned with a THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 89 liberty cap, and bore a tomahawk instead of the garlands of flowers used to decorate the English May-pole. The army was not alone in doing honor to the "saint." Poets sang of his virtues. His life was dramatized and appeared on the stage in many places. Societies, which usually took the place of the modern club, were formed under his name. In England it was customary, on the first day of May, to wear a sprig of green gathered in the early morning and worn all day. This sprig was called the " May." The narrow-leaved elm and the hawthorn were the trees from which the sprig was usually taken. The expedition into the grove after it was called " going a-Maying," and the carrying of it home was " bringing in the May." The erecting of a May-pole, the young men and maidens dancing around it with flowers and song, and the choosing of the most attractive maiden as the " Queen of the May," to whom homage was paid as long as the day lasted, were characteristic features in the observance of May Day. This festival was quite general in England until the Puritans of the Commonwealth put a stop to it and uprooted the May-poles. It was again revived after the Restoration, but has now nearly, if not entirely, died out. In the New England States this same festival had been observed for a short time. Here it was also opposed by the Puritans, who regarded it as an emblem of satanic rule. In such an atmosphere it could not flourish long, and soon became a thing of the past. The custom of giving " May baskets," however, survived a little longer, and for aught we know may still be observed in some places. A basket, tastefully arranged with flowers, was left by the love-sick swain at the door of his lady-love; children tied baskets and bouquets on the door-knob of the house wherein dwelt their playmates, and friends remembered each other by gifts and flowers on May Day morning. r"pHEPvE is a surprising lack of knowledge in regard to *■ South America, its people and their ways. There is more known of Europe, Asia and Africa than of South America, once an echo of Spain in her glory and the home of a brave people con-quered by treachery and deceit. When we do study its history at all, we start with its discovery and almost abruptly end there. 90 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Perhaps it is because we do not have so much in common as we have with the people of other countries that we know so little about the people, but it would be better to be more familiar with the doings and character of the people who live on the same side of the world as we do. We usually regard South America as made up of a number of little republics always at odds and the people as indolent and uneducated. We might change our minds some-what if we knew more about them. The natural resources of the country are worth study also, the magnificent mountain-ranges, the valuable forests and mines, the rivers and bays, the fertile plains equal to any which nature has ever bestowed on any country. —S. AN OLD READER CHAS. W. WEISKB, '01 I picked up an old school reader, Which up on the attic lay, Covered with the dust of ages, Brown with mold and decay. I opened its well-worn pages— They were soiled and marked with grime, By the little hands which used them In a by-gone, happy time. And out came the flood of memory, "With a rush, a flutter and sweep, And I lived those days all over— Those days ere I climbed life's steep. Aye! there was the old brown school house, With its warped and beaten floor, And there were the old wooden benches, Arid the old thumb-latch on the door. And there was the rude cut initial, Carved on the desk and seat, And under the forms the shuffling Of stout-booted restless feet. Around me arose a murmur, A chatter and whisp'ring gay, The humming of happy children, In the school beside the way. But the cold winds weirdly sighing, Awoke me from my dream; The present lay before me— Iafe's bright and silvery stream. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 91 PICTURES MARY C. SIELING, '03 HPHERE are pictures not painted with the brush of the artist. * The hills, the valleys, the sky, the rivers—all the works of God—what are they to him that see, aught but so many beautiful pictures ? How the hills, with their trees rising rank above rank, brighten the valleys between them. What artist can imitate the delicate shade of their green ? What colors mixed by man are so beautiful as their red and gold in autumn, and in what picture hung in our houses is there expressed the desolation of those same hills in winter, when the trees are bare and the winds moan through their branches ? The stream sings through the valley, hurrying on to the sea. The sunbeams dance upon the waters, making the scene still more pleasing, while the flowers along its banks add to its,beauty. All this is a beautiful picture, and it fills our hearts with peace. In the sky, too, there are pictures. The heavens are a moving panorama. The blue of the noon-day sky is to the sight what far-off beautiful music is to the ear. It fills us with a vague longing, and turns our thoughts to what is high and spiritual. The sunset is the most beautiful of all pictures, for do not the rifted clouds, bordered in gold, with the splendor spreading from them, seem like outer battlements of heaven when the inner gates are opened ? These pictures are around us and above us day after day. They gladden us, purify us and uplift us. He who can copy these pictures on canvas is the painter, and that man is the best painter who can most com-pletely forget himself and yield his soul and his hand to the Mas-ter of all paintings, content to let himself be the means through which the copies of the paintings, engraved deep on his own soul, are made to stand out on canvas. Raphael painted his beautiful Madonna because, in his mind, there was a beautiful picture of the purity and love of the mother of Jesus, and this picture was his, not only from a study of the Bible, but from the memory of his own pure and noble mother. Michael Angel o, who in the age in which Christian art had reached its zenith, stood almost unrivaled as a painter, sculptor, architect and poet. He painted and carved as never man painted and carved before or since, because he more fully than other men let nature and the God of nature speak through his life and his hand. 92 THE GETTYSBURG MEBCURY But artists are not the only men who try to copy these pictures which God has painted. The poets and prose writers also paint pictures, not with brush and palette, but with words in writing. "The Great Stone Face," how clearly we see with Hawthorne the long valley with the great family of lofty mountains beyond, the great face of stone carved in the side of the mountain, the people of the valley. Ernest, who, as a boy and man, looked through a long life for the face that should resemble the great face carved in stone, and who should thus fulfill a tradition of the valley ! With him we look into the face of the rich man, warrior and poet, and with him we are saddened to find in each one something lacking, but with the people we shout to see at last that he, Ernest himself, is the man who resembles the great stone face. But these pictures drawn by prose writers and painters, in the end mean to us only as much as we put into them. We cannot enjoy a poem or a painting of a forest stream unless we ourselves have felt the restfulness and delightful coolness of a streamlet murmuring over the pebbles under the shade of the overhanging trees, nor will the most beautiful pictured children Millias appeal to us before we have learned in some way the beauty and inno-cence of childhood. Thus in truth, all the pictures, of which we have spoken, depend on the great painter, Nature. But every-body is to a certain extent an artist, because everybody is paint-ing a picture called character. This picture is of more importance in the sight of God and to us than any other kind of picture. Upon this picture depends our happiness hereafter. Some people are trying hard to paint the picture well, while others handle the brush so carelessly that in the end the picture is a mere daub. There are a few men whose characters stand out above others like the paintings of the mas-ters. We should study these pictures, and let the beauty of their character enter into our own lives. If you would teach a boy self-poise, coolness of judgment and majesty of character, let him read about George Washington. If you would have him sincere, looking through the glamour of symbols to the things beneath, let him study long and well the lives of such men as Socrates and Lincoln. But if you would have him to be a true man, rounded, combining all virtues, let THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 93 him study the life of Him more majestic than Washington, for He was the God of man, and more sincere than Socrates. "We should study His life until just as Ernest, by looking long and lovingly into the great stone face, grew like it in feature, we also, by looking at the picture of His character, may grow more and more like Him. SPONTANEITY IN LITERATURE J. RUSH STONER, '01 QPONTANEITY, applied to literature, may be used to desig- ^ nate that spontaneous flow of eloquence or spirit from the depth of the author's own nature, giving to literary work spice and attraction. It may have an ennobling effect, or it may have a degrading effect, according as the life and ethical ideas of the author are high or low. It constitutes the ground upon which what is commonly called good and bad literature are distinguish-able. In the higher sense it might be looked upon as inspiration in literature; in the lower sense, merely as an evil tending to de-moralize the race. All who are familiar with the poetry of Robert Burns have recognized there the naturalness with which the poet gave vent to his feelings. And with the exclusion of his coarser poems, he might be taken as a good type of authors, whose writings flow with natural freshness of pure humor, pathos and wit, appealing strongly to the higher sympathies and the nobler passions. There is in literature a force that molds the character or indi-viduality of the reader. This element, or subtle force, makes itself clearly manifest in the life principles of different individuals, through the subconscious impressions it ingrains upon the mind. For the reader, if he is in the highest sense a true reader, must be in a receptive state, imbibing the spirit and tone of the litera-ture perused. And these impressions are stored up for future reproduction in the principles of life. Enthroned thus in the ruling element of the world, this force becomes at once a power in shaping the destiny of the race. Those who are at all susceptible to literature resort to it either for rest, pleasure, instruction, or for its ennobling influence. The scientist, exhausted from his deep abstraction in the realms of nature, searching for laws and principles in large collections of 94 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY facts, comes hither to quaff from this sparkling fountain, this source of the emotional nature. It is to him a source of rest and pleasure, indispensable to his well-being, that he may draw from his life's work the best results. And, too, what wealth of in-struction is yielded to the earnest seeker after knowledge as he pries into this mine of wisdom. Above all, the ennobling effect ofgood literature is universal; experienced alike by scientist and all who come within the scope of its power. The existence of this subtle force in literature may be verified by the career of a distinguished scientist of the nineteenth cen-tury, who neglected entirely the fine arts and the reading of in-spired writings for the absorbing interests of his life's work. In this description of his own life, Darwin tells his pathetic story. He tells how in the early part of his life he took great delight in poetry and music, and then, after many years of their utter neglect, he tried to read some poetry. But he could no longer appreciate it. His mind had become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, and was so revolutionized that poetry seemed unendurably dull and even nauseating. He had lost all appreciation of the higher tastes. He says this atrophy of the emotional nature is doubtless a loss of happiness. And he expresses an intense regret that he could not have his life to live again, that he might, at regular intervals throughout his busy career, pay some attention to those things which appeal to the spiritual side of life, that this horrible atrophy in his mind might have been averted. Here was a man who accomplished a vast work in science, but his absorption in the work, and neglect of the finer arts, brought him to a painful consciousness of the reality of this element in literature, and its influence upon the reader. While there are many instances that demonstrate the reality of this force by showing the change brought about in the indi-vidual who is isolated from its influences, there are also numerous evidences of its positive influence upon the individuality of the reader. So positive is this influence, that the literature a person enjoys is an unfailing index to his character. If the mind be turned into the channels of heroic and active literature, a heroic spirit of'strong and manly principles, master of circumstances and capable of resisting the most powerful evils, is the inevitable re-sult. If, on the other hand, time is spent in devouring nonsensi- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 95 cal trash of a doubtful, or possibly degrading moral tone, you have as a reward, or rather demerit, a nerveless, sentimental tem-perament, unfit for the accomplishment of any great work, be it in the study or in life's profession. There is no more contemptible type of human character than the nerveless sentimentalist and dreamer, who spends his life in a "weltering sea of sensibility," and never does a concrete, manly deed. But, ah ! the individuality formed by contact with inspir-ing and ennobling literature ! How sublime is that character, standing firm amid the tempests, like a tower when everything rocks about it, and the weaker fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast ! Since there is. a spontaneous force in literature exerting its influence over every reader, whether he is conscious of the fact or not, how essential it is that all current literature and fiction should be idealistic, upholding the ideal of the race; for this is the law of human progress. It would be better if the realistic novel were never published. What we want is a stalwart ideal-ism. In life " aim and ideal are everything;" so it is in litera-ture. And if these be high and just, the author is true to his profession, and will be false to no one. How great is the responsibility resting upon the author ! He may be the agency through which humanity is brought into the most exalted phase of moral excellence, or into the vilest degen-eracy, endowing the race with real wealth to promote its civiliza-tion, or bringing upon it the deadliest curse. Then let those who are looking forward to a higher order of things, social and politi-cal, equip themselves and aspire to win the favor of the people by making the idealistic literature surpass in splendor the low-grade realistic novel, as the glorious mid-day sun outshines the insignificant glow-worm. And let the unscrupulous author, who has no higher ambition than to cater to the populace, sink into oblivion beneath the weight of a refined popular taste and criti-cism. This mournful truth is everywhere confessed, Slow rises worth by poverty depressed. -Johnson. 96 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY IN NATURE'S REALM J. RUSH STONER, '01. How oft in life's deep vestige sought,— Be it in Nature's realm and throne, Where fleeting time has strata laid, And plant life quivering, by zephyrs blown, Wafts perfume o'er the sacred dead, Or in the search of truth and lore,— The Unintended lifts its head And speaks in oracles of yore! In the closing days of winter drear, When anon begins through Nature's veins To course the life of a living world, We strolled through field and rustic lanes; Enchanting for romance were they, In facts for science richer still. We searched for minerals, types of rock And phenomena caused by rippling rill. And lo! within a fractured rock A microscopic plant was seen. Perennial, delicate, tiny thing, It has of Nature's marvels been One oft escaped the human eye; A life unscathed by Aeolian breath Or Zeus' cataclysms wild, Nor felt Apollo's scorching dearth. But clinging to the rugged cliff A lonely, solitary form; In all the great, wide universe Only a little speck forlorn; Yet symmetry and order plain Are there set forth in clear design By the Supreme Intelligence, Its "Great Original," benign. A useless infinitesimal plant! But it a mission has to fill: It may proclaim the law Divine, And be of greatest value still. If it but shows that God, who keeps The stars in cosmic beauty bright, Regards the smallest forms of being, It turns on science floods of light. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 97 i And man, a spark of the Divine May see in this the message clear, That God who rules things great and small In sweet compassion holds them dear. And he may catch the inspiration, That love, the essence of the soul, Controls and rules the universe And pilots safely to the goal. A COUNTRY BARN ON A RAINY DAY D. S. Weimer, '03 TT is a warm summer morning, the folks have arisen from the long, A sweet slumbers of the night, breakfast has been prepared and served, the horses have been fed and harnessed, and all are ready to go to their respective duties, when, lo! the sky becomes dark, ened and in a short time the rain begins to descend upon the parched earth, causing the drooping plants to lift their heads, as it were, and to spread out their leaves that they may be bathed by the gentle rain. All stand wrapped in delight, as they watch the rain which has been needed so long, no one being unwilling to rest from his labor, while the gentle rain descends to replenish the earth with flowers and fruits. Soon the scene changes. The father, ever mindful ofhis duties, bids the sons go to the barn to unharness the horses. When this is done, they are told that they must go to the barn-floor and pre-pare to thresh some rye in order to have some long straw for tying the corn in the autumn. Soon the doors are thrown open and you see the boys sweeping the floor to get ready to place upon it the sheaves of grain ready for the flail. When the sweeping is completed, you see James climb thelad-der and pass into the mow, while Henry remains upon the floor to arrange the sheaves in order, one after the other, until the floor is fairly covered, when James ceases to throw them from the mow and descends to the floor and prepares to begin with the flail. Taking their flails, they step to their places, and at once begin to strike with alternate strokes, creating a great noise so that it is very difficult to be understood in speaking, but doing the work to which they were appointed with apparent ease and skill. They 98 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY labor during the long hours of the day, ceasing only when thefact that it is time to perform the regular evening duties is made known to them. From what I have said, you may infer that the "Country Barn" is, besides being a protection for the animals against the inclem-ency ofthe weather and a storehouse for grain, a kind ofworkshop, where boys are taught to improve their time and not to throw away the golden moments. We shall see that it is something more. While James and Henry are busy at their work, Willie, Ned, and Joe, who are yet too small to bear the greater burdens of life, are rolling over the hay, turning somersault, standing upon their heads, playing "Run and Jump," "Hide and Seek," and indulg-ing in other sports. Seated in the corner of the barn-floor or run-ning to and fro, or lounging in the swing made by Henry, are Jane and Nell, too selfish to engage in sport with the boys, or probably keeping away, pouting on account of some trick which the boys have served them. Thus wesee that the "Country Barn" is a shelter, a storehouse, a workshop, and a playhouse, teaching to us the lesson that the things which exist may be used for different purposes, each pur-pose in its own time, being necessary for full and complete devel-opment and advantageous to all. «f^£> ALL SOULS DAY W. H. B. CARNEY, '99. Arched above, a reefless ocean Gray of clouds; no sunny glow: Leafless trees affect no motion To the biting' winds which blow. Everywhere are solemn faces,— Father, mother, daughter, son; Over all I see the traces Of a sorrow, deep and lone. Towards God's acre slowly walking Where a loved one lies "At Rest"; Thinking all, but none are talking: Sometimes Silence speaks the best. w THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 99 On the arm a wreath of holly With white flowers wove between; But the gnawing melancholy Of the heart cannot be seen. In the churchyard there is weeping Over every ivied mound; Some have infant forms in keeping, Some by sculptor's hand are crowned. On the graves the wreaths are lying, Glistening with blood-warm tears, Tribute of a love undying, Living on through dragging years. In a homestead sits a maiden Sighing o'er a golden band ; For his grave her hands not laden; There's a trench in foreign land. In her dreams a wife is hearing Lashing waves that froth and roar; And she sees a boat that's nearing,— But it never reached the shore. • In the church is told the story How the Christ, in village Nain, Gave a widow cause to glory, Raising up her son again. While the trumpet tones are blowing All the dead in Him shall rise; And the living, those reknowing. Shall meet with them in the skies. Every desert yield the treasured, Every mountain, and the Bea, Thousands in whose deeps unmeasured Toss like leaves upon the lea. Then I see the faint hearts strengthen And the tears are wiped away; For the shadows soon will lengthen, Herald of Eternal Day. —Berlitz School of Languages, Berlin, Germany. 100 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY EXCHANGES TVTE have been pleased to receive more than the usual number " of magazines and journals from different colleges and universities during the past month, many of which visited our desk for the first time. Among these the Red and Blue, because of its neat and attractive appearance, and wealth of both poetry and prose, will always be most heartily welcomed. The Harvard Monthly is unassuming in appearance, and filled with excellent literary productions. The Nassau Literary Magazine and the University of Virginia Magazine are both entertaining as always. In addition to these, many others could be mentioned. It has been interesting to note that nearly all the magazines have given considerable space to poetical selections, and also that the number of really good prose articles is greater than dur-ing the previous month. The Lesbian Herald contains a tender and beautiful poem, "The Trailing Arbutus," whose title was probably suggested by John Burrough's poem on the" same subject. We quote the fol-lowing : " Her presence like glimmering sunshine seemed, And the soft sweet breath of the spring, The blue of her eyes was the blue of the heaven, Her voice had a gladsome ring. " Like the voice of the birds as they sing in the trees, When the sweet April shower is done, Or lift to the heavens their anthems of praise When a glad new day has begun. " But the wind swept by with a wailing moan, And the maiden so wondrous fair Was gone in her glory of summer sheen, But the prints of her feet were there. " You call it the trailing arbutus flower, A sweet breath of spring, you say, But I know the glory which gave it birth In the foot-prints left that day." The author of '' The L,ady of the L,ake '' in The Mountaineer evidently appreciates the vivacity and beauty of one of Scott's grandest productions, and thoroughly enjoys the chivalric spirit manifested by the characters. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 101 In the St. John's Collegian appears an article on " The Bible as a Text-book.'' The importance of this subject cannot be ques-tioned when we think of the efforts which are made to exclude the Bible from the curriculum of our educational institutions, and the author's very thorough discussion has our entire appro-bation . The Juniata Echo is publishing a series of articles on Porto Rico, written by Prof. M. G. Brumbaugh, Ph. D., Commissioner of Instruction in Porto Rico. These articles contain valuable information. The last issue contains an article on Martin Luther, part of which we take the liberty of quoting: " Martin Luther was the example of loyalty, the exponent of freedom, the guiding star of the Reformation, the advocate of the genuine Pauline Doctrine, and the mainstay of Christendom since the Apostles. . ******* " 'Thou, who art so great in whatever aspect we view thee, so worthy of admiration, so deserving of universal gratitude, alike great as a man, a scholar, a citizen, and a Christian', hast so in-spired us with the thought so characteristic of thy life, that he who steers his frail canoe the best, truest and noblest in the ser-vice of himself, his Alma Mater, his nation and his God; steers it longest when he receives his reward." "The Chemist's Guess" in The Free Lance teaches two important lessons—" the result of careless work " and " honesty is the best policy." J-Other exchanges to be acknowledged are: The Dickinson Lit-erary Monthly, The Susquehanna, The College Folio, The Western Ufiiversity Courant, The Catthage Collegian, The Scio Collegian, The Phoenix, The Campus and The Forum. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. R. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed lor variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. In buying don't forget the Advertisers. They support us. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammelstomn Bromn Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. B. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAMER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and "Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 50 Twist, " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. WHITEWATER, WIS. Askjour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyon. Agood local agent wanted in every school No. 1. Chased, long or short $2 00 No. 1. Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 awfwmiffmmmmwiffmiffifmrmiffmmiffifrTffffgg 7k Printing and Binding We Print This Book THE MT. HOEEY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing- to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. *SPRINGS, PA. UMkJttiUlUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUR H. S. BENNEF?, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc, Tobacco and Cigars. 17 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days' tight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta-tionery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TAWNEY_^ Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. . A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. M. B. BENDER Furniture IRON BEDS, MATTRESSES, SPRINGS Picture Framing" and Repair Work done Promptly 27 BALTIMORE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. fyokl Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON WTJ /~T\P\r\Dl Successor to . r . {JJUKJKl, Simon J.Codori Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. * CHAS. S. MUMPER (Formerly of Mumper & Bender) Furniture Having opened a new store opposite W. M. R. R. Depot, will be pleased to have you call and examine goods. Picture Framing promptly attended to. Repair Work a Specialty Students' Trade Solicited FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. 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EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER, 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered tltrough A. N. Beau. To Repair Broken Arti-cles use Remember MAJOR'S RUBBER CEMENT, MAJOR'S LEATHER CEMENT, Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Pleased Customer Is not a stranger in our establish-ment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. Try My Choice lane of ,\ High-Grade Chocolates 3 'at 40c per lb. Always fresh, at ,£ CHAS. H. McCLEARY J Carlisle St., Opposite W.M.R.R. jj Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A i Always on Hand. B,C L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day John E. Hughes, Prop. 1 k Capitol Cit£ Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURG, PA. Pirst-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Nig-ht. European Plan. Lunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINQER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisl e St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS Wright, 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. MOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LONG & HOLTZWORTM, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Hotel for First-Class Guides and Teams THE BATTLEFIELD A SPECIALTY Uhe JSolton Market Square •fcartfeburg, fl>a. Earge and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Eight and Steam Heat. J. M. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Proprietors Special Rates for Commer-cial Men "EZ 1ST IMMER CUT ET WAS ZU WISSEIN." These are the words of Goethe, the great German poet, and are as true in our day as when uttered. In these times of defective vision it is good to know something about eyes. A great deal has been learned about the value of glasses and their application since Goethe lived. Spectacle wearers have increased by thousands, while at the same time, persons losing their eyesight have been greatly diminished. If your eyes trouble you in any way let me tell you the cause. Examination free and prices reasonable. We grind all our own lenses and fit the best lenses (no matter what anyone else has charged you) for $2.50 per pair and as cheap as SO cents per pair, or duplicate a broken lens if we have one-half or more of the old one, at a reasonable charge, returning same day received. .E. L EGOLE. 807 and 809 North Third Street, HARRISBURG, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. ^entpol Jlotel, ELIAS FISSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Inght and Call Bells all through the House. Closets aud Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-minfr's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.30 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled Einen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONG, Prop. Horace Partridge & Co., BOSTON, MASS. Fine Athletic Goods Headquarters for Foot Ball, Gym-nasium, Fencing' and Track Supplies. Send for Illustrated Catalog. 84 and 86 Franklin Street R. W. LENKER, Agent at Penna. College. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, lee, ■•««>Iee Creams Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. The Leading garber v5f)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. Grymi5£im(i, PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. 10 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. i\. kiimm Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. GETTYSBURG, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adams County. i I - >- L PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. For Fine- Printing go to Tte Jo Co Wile Pnviqjg HOOK CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGARS. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg Leadership IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S EURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony ? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: PALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STIINE McPherson Block- No. II BALTIMORE STREET <5ett\?stmret pa. /iDerville E. Zinn, proprietor The Leading Hotel Rates $2.00 per Day Long & Holtzworth Livery Attached Cuisine and Service First-Class We furnish The swellest Furnishings for Collegians in America. Ties, Hosiery, Gloves, Underwear, Sweaters, Hats, Caps. PRICES EXTREMELY REASONABLE. Joseph Auerbach, 623 Penna. Ave., Washington, D. C

Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Jan./ Feb., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 41, 1982 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr

Issue 39.3 of the Review for Religious, May 1980. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration wilh faculty members of the Dbpartment of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, MissQuri, © 1980. By REVIEW FOR REL~O~Ot~S. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription'U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RF.L~CaOt~S: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor. Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and A nswers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1980 Volume 39 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVlF.W FOrt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. A Check on Our Availability: The Examen George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is engaged in campus ministry, and at the same time, working nationally with priests and religious. He resides at Scranton University, Scranton, PA 18510. [n an earlier issue (January, 1972, "Consciousness Examen") I had written about a renewed understanding of the traditional lgnatian exercise of the daily examen. In that article I preferred to talk of an "examen of con-sciousness," because most of us had come to understand "conscience" in a narrowly moralistic sense. This had turned the examen into a fairly negative practice, soon discarded when we got into the typically busy apostolic life. To set aside specific time each day to see what we did wrong was not very much help. Nor did the practice enrich our apostolate much, because it gradually turned God into Someone always catching us .doing something wrong--and thus we wrought havoc on our self-esteem. A good sense of self-value, an ef-fective apostolate, and our image of God are always intimately connected. A Positive~ Understanding of the Examen .~: The formal examen should rather be a time of prayer about how much God has loved me in the yery existential details of my day, and how he could have loved me more in certain situations if my inner spiritual decisiveness and external presence had been a bit different. This is not just a different articula-tion of the meaning of the examen. Rather, it leads to an enormous difference attitudinally and effectively. A healthy self-esteem has to be ultimately and ir-revocably rooted in our Father's love, climaxed in his victory in Jesus. This neither excessively highlights, nor denies, my daily sinful weakness. Rather it leads to a consoling humiliation, found in a Father's forgiveness that is con- 321 :322 / Review for Religious, V~olume 39, 1980/3 stantly available in Jesus as my personal savior. In this way, the daily effect of my sinful condition is not to tear down self-worth, but to build up true apostolic humility, which itself is the source of genuine self-esteem. This positive understanding of the examen helps avoid another fallacy. Many times the full, rich prayer of the consciousness examen shrinks into a quick, superficial reflection over the day, and the five traditional elements of the examen thus collapse into the third element by itself--a general survey of the day's activities. The formal examen, however, was never intended to be just a quick thinking-over of the day. It is supposed to be prayer--and that within a fairly specific form, one related to the daily contemplation but not identical with it. And if the examen is to be chiefly about God's love for me, then gratitude should play a major affective role. Of course, it is the gratitude of a sinner who is at peace with the nothing he can do on his own, because he is still wonderfully learning how our Father's love turns everything to good--even his own sinfulness. The Examen Is Essential to Availability In the conclusion of his letter to the Society. of Jesus on "apostolic availabi_lity," Father General Pedro Arrupe made thi~ statement: To become partly immobile through lack of availability on the part of individuals and the consequent fear of superiors to give them the missions called for by our apostolate today, would constitute a most serious threat to the very existence of our vocation . lgnatian availability is the guarantee and the conditio sine qua non of our practice, which leads to salvation, and alone is of interest to the Society and the Church. A strong claim! My central point here is that the daily examen is the primary means to maintain this disposition of Ignatian and, indeed, of all apostolic availability. Even so, why should a brief period of prayer assume such great impor-tance? This leads us to another insight often neglected in the past. The formal examen-prayer, with its five elements, (usually) lasting about a quarter-hour, is always a means to the informal examen, which is a special faith-sensitivity that is with one all through the day. Often in our early years, we have turned the formal examen-prayer into an end-in-itself, giving to it a rigid fidelity that corrupted its significance. Of course it would be illusory to imagine that we can grow into living the informal examen=sensitivity without the early development of habitual practice of the formal examen and a con-tinuing adaptation of our involvement with this type of daily prayer. Through the informal examen, a person acquires a special ability for discerning (or examining) "presence" in everything. For Ignatius, this quality-presence was more important and extensive than the formal examen-prayer, inasmuch as this presence helps the person to recognize ,the grace of apostolic availability and flexibility that is being'offered in every situation. Apostolic availability is a profound faith-experience that roots one's iden-tity and security in God's love. When a person's security is too rooted in a job The Check on Our A vailability: The Examen / 323 or a place, or even a certain reputation, there results a stubborn rigidity that undermines his availability, just as availability canequally be undermined by a disordered need for change and variety--as when a person is so superficially committed that he really doesn't care whether he's changed or where he's assigned. In that same letter, Father Arrupe pointed up some of the challenges for what we have termed apostolic availability that are especially present in the new directions, institutional involvements and types of service that are re-quired in the modern world. What is fundamental; though, is that availability ¯ is primarilya readiness and sensitivity of heart, not simply a changing of job and/or place. In the heart of a person serving for many years.in the same mis-sion there can be an availability that is very apostolic and invigorating~--and often more difficult than the "availability" that leads to a new assignment. Apostolic availability and genuine perseverance in the same task orplace can never be opposed. In the formal examen, we hold up our day to be seen against the light of God's love. Sometimes this will be more instructive for us than was the experience itself., We may appreciate what we didn't even see in the actual experien.ce. At other times, we can savor the depths implicit in our sensitivity in the actual experience of the day. The continuing informal examen makes us sen-sitive in every situation to a Father's love that is always available, makes us ready to respond in filial 10ve to the Father's desire, as Jesus was--especially on Calvary. At such a point of insight, we see how often our cowardice or disordered desires reveal us to be persons of the "Second Class" (Spiritual Exercises, 154), who seek to make God come to what we desire. This is precisely backwards: consolation and greater apostolic service are to be found in our coming to what God desires. The sensitivity of apostolic availability distinguishes the heart ofa person of the "Third Class" from one of the "Second Class." The difference can become very subtle in one's interior af-fective life, but what~is always at issue is nothing less than better service for the justice of God's kingdom. Availability and Discernment In our sinful human condition, apostolic availability does not at all come naturally to us, but often is born of our decisive dealing with desolation in ac-cordance with the principles of Ignatian discernment. The seven capit.al sins, as inner affective experiences (.before we intentionally act on them), are each a type of desolate violence endemic to our sinful condition. They infringe on, and restrict the freedom of our availability. In decisively going against this desolate violence (see Exercises319), we become interiorly available to God's loving and consoling attractiveness, which a!ways frees us for whatever his Heart desires of us now. In this way, Jesus' own decisive availability to his 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Father, in service to our world, is gradually born in our affectivity through our careful living, with all the subtlety of discernment, in the face of our inner, desolate violence. The daily examen is the most practical and regularmeans to practice, this discernment for availability. Our particular examen could then focus on the flaw or weakness that now is most keeping us from this fuller apostolic availability. What is that flaw or weakness? It is not so much something that we decide on, but rather what God will reveal: to us in his loving concern that all of us should belong to him ~ver more totally. By responding to his call through the particular examen, and directing our attention and effort primarily against that flaw or weakness, we are allowing ourselves to be drawn more into the apostolic availability of Jesus where he and we best find the Father. The Examen: An Action-Reflection Model Apostolic renewal is not simply being able to get more done. Apostolic ac-tivity is not measured simply in quantity, but must respond to the dictates of a wise sensitivity in the zealous lover of God. A certain degree of.reflectivity is essential to the growth of this sensitivity. Although in the beginning this reflectivity may seem labored and artificial, as one matures in the Spirit it becomes more integrated, less obvious, and part of the "presence" one has everywhere. There is much talk about various action-reflection models to help renew our apostolic presence, and, indeed, some such model can be an essential instrument and method for apostoli~ religious formation from the novitiate onward. I suggest that the examen is precisely such an action-reflection instru-ment, one that is built right into our daily life, and capable of fostering apostolic availability as a whole way of life open to service to the needs of our world for God's greater glory. In these models, we reflect on our experience, hoping that the reflection will lead us to better quality in our apostolic efforts. Hence the reflection is never for itself, nor directed to a self-centered sanctification, Often in the past, the examen did not have an hpostolic orientation, ~but tended to a suf-focating introspection. As we mature in outpractice Of the examen, the separate steps of action-reflection-action integrate into a sensitivity of presence in the activity that makes us available in everything for the call of our Father's love, in whatever way he desires for his greater glory in our world. Just as the routine and regularity of the daily order help to keep the con-templative monk attuned to God, so the examen can keep the apostolic religious, who is both active and contemplative, a~ttuned to God's love, and allow us, mortified by apostolic availability, to find in everything of this world a son's filial, loving service of his Father. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation Carl F. Stark/off,' S.J.~ Father Starkloff's last article in our pages, "Oppression, Death and Liberation: Thoughts in a Context," appeared in the issue of November, 1978. He continues as superior and director of St. Stephens Indian Mission; P.O. Box 294; St. Stephens, WY 82524. The', title of the recently published National CatecheticalDirectory--Sharing The Light of Faiths'is more provocative than one might think upon first sight, if one reads it as a missionary statement. It can be interpreted in the light of a eatechesis that is meant tO instruct Catholics in the faith handed on through baptism. But if we examine those places in the DireCtory that dis'cuss the relationship between faith and culture,' we may be sufficiently disturbed to make us probe more deeply the rfieaning of what it is to share our faith. To speak of the missionary apostolate brings to mind the turbulent history of the exegesis of the so-called "Great Commission" in Matthew 28:18-20, which is placed on the lips of the risen Christ as he sends forth his joyous (though not yet spiritually rejuvenated) disciples to teach all nations about the source of their joy. This gospel mandate began a missionary enterprise that sent preachers of the Good News throughout the known world and outward to the barbarians of northern Europe, the East and to the far-off British Isles. J. Verkuyl points out that the early reformers, probably because of their sense of urgency to establish their movement among European Christians, wanted (mistakenly) to restrict Jesus' mandate to the time of the Apostolic Age.2 The ~ Sharing the Light of Faith: National Catechetical Directory for Catholics of the I~lnited States (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, 1979). See especially pp. 7-16; 85-98; 116-119. 2 j. Verkuyl, Contemporary Missiology: An Introduction, tr. Dale Cooper (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1978), pp. 18-19. 325 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 nineteenth century, however, witnessed phenomenal growth in mission activi-ty among all Christian denominations, and the confident expansionist attitudes of the period endured up to the mid-point of, our own century. Today, however, there is a widespread "malaise" among missionaries, as Walbert Buhlmann puts it, though he is careful to note that such a condition is one environment that can nurture hope.~ In any case, there is a c'risis of confidence in the Church's self-image as a "sent" community, and the crisis extends back from the mission frontiers into families and communities, and into individual souls, as Christians question their right and duty to "spread the Gospel." This is a cultural and theological crisis that offers promise of much growth in understanding of the relationship between faith-proclamation and cultural sharing, or, to view it from the dark side, between preaching the Good News and cultural imperialism. A great quantity of material is flowing, from the pens of missiologists about this prob-lem, and there are various theories dealing with the faith-culture question. I have shared in this effort elsewhere. This article, however, is an attempt at a "spirituality" that might further an experiential approach to faith and culture as it is rooted in the life of prayer. Fundamentally, prayer is at the root of this crisis that touches catechesis in the "established" Church, and ,even touches relationships between parents and children. Chesterton wrote somewhere that to deny the right of parents to teach religion to their children is to deny them the right to teach them anything. If our prayer lacks conviction, we are easy prey to dp~bts about this right and duty. In this article, I do not intend to discuss whether there should be missions; I happen to believe there should be. Nor do I intend to take up the much-debated question of a "moratorium on missions"; 1 happen to believe that missions are part and parcel of Christianity. That "mission" should be done differently, with consideration of mutual'resources and values between the missionary and the local culture is beyond iluestion.And that mission should cease to be mission and become church is a prominent New Testament value articulated by St. Paul in his dealing~ with theJocal churches. But amid all the discussion of liberation and oppression, of imperialism and colonialism, of faith and culture, there shines the Light at the center, who is Jesus Christ--the only ultimate justification for all missions. The love of God as manifested in him must be preached-- no doubt in a~.growing way much more by Africans and Asiatics and Other third world people t.o p~eople of the first and second worlds. But they, too, must heed their calling to be transparent mes~sengers. The transparency of which I speak is primarily a question of the missionary's "spiritual life, and that is the subject of this article. A recent b~ok on mission spirituality stresses the importance of the mis-" sionary's life-style for his or her witness to the Gospel. Michael Reilly writes: ~ Walbert Buhlmann, O.F.M., Cap., The Coming of the Third Church, trans. Ralph Woodhall, S.J. (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1977), p. 405. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 327 How can the life-styles of these countless men and women who did so much to spread Christianity in the early centuries be described? There is no lack of testimony and evidence on this point. It can be summarized under five categories: the transformation and moral uprightness of their personal lives, their fellowship and social concern for others, their joy, their endurance under hardship and persecution, and the power which they exercised by virtue of their faith.' This iri general speaks of the awesome demands laid upon the missioi~er. Certainly no mission labors c~in be sustained without these qualities, to which we will more explicitly add perseverance in profound daily prayer, even and especially amid the many "dark nights" that cultural conflicts can create or intensify. The growih in a person's ~n spiritual life should be a continuing conv'er-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious orders, of which Bernard Lonergan writes in the transcendental phenomenology of his theological method.~ Missionaries above all, because they confront so many new and challenging experiences, must undergo such conversion, which is fed by, and, in return, nourishes a gospel-centered awareness. The,apostle must have also that unqualified, unreserved "being in love with God" that Lonergan calls religious faith,6 and this faith should be anchored in the historical reality that is:Christianity. Lonergan writes: ""There is a personal entrance of God himself into history, a communication of God to his people, the advent of God's word into the world of religious expression.'" The missionary will have to apply this dynamic of constant growth to cultural realities and religious values, as well as to his or.her own sources of spiritual power, experiencing these with both.pas-sionate involvement and prayerful detachment. The title "missionary" is not only audacious and shocking; it is unforgivably arrogant unless one assumes in it the motive that stems from the experienCed knowledge of Jesus Christ as the embodied presence of God's love in the world. This love incarnate becomes most explicit in the various' gospel texts that order the proclamation of salvation to all peoples. To preach eternal salvation is fundamental to all missionary zeal. But because salvation is incarnate for the Christian, his preaching cannot merely" project salvation into eternity, disembodied and unattached. The Good News calls people to ex-perience God's love and kindness within temporal existence, Otherwise, why take creation with any seriousness, at all? Our reading of the various reports of the life. and work of Jesus of Nazareth has been conditioned by our catechetical upbringing. We have learned to see Jesus as laying down his life when.he wills to do so, meanwhile battling with the scribes and pharisees in their apparent hypocrisy and their intransigent insistence on external conduct. But it is to the credit of the Michael Collins Reilly, S.J., Spirituality For Mission (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 53. Bernard J. F. Lonergan, Method in Tti'eology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 3-25. Ibid., p. 105, ' Ibid., p. 119. 32~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 "liberation theologians" that they have forced us to become aware of the pervasive and persistent struggle of Jesus to win for the poor of Yahweh a humane existence, snatching their lives from the hands of powers that oppress them with needless burdens and joyless, unwarranted submissiveness to human domination. Thus missionary zeal is summoned to examine itself about its concern for a basic humaneness of life; it should feel great pain whenever the Good News is kept from persons because they are humiliated and demeaned, when they suffer oppression or oppress one another. Indeed, our spiritual resources must be strong enough to make us believe that faith can thrive under oppression, but our contemplation of the Gospel also shows us that Jesus fought conditions that enslaved people, Jesus' mission, and that of the Church, is to work for the conditions that permit a joyous and free wor-ship of God. This is a profound social dimension of the Gospel that more and more who read it are coming to perceive. For the prayerful and devout Christian, one of the most urgent motives-- perhaps the motive--for mission.activity, at least in the year~; of Catholic and Protestant missions since the sixteenth century, has been the brooding con-templation of countless hordes of souls going to hell because they did not con-fess Jesus Christ. With the reflective work of modern theology and Vatican Council 1I (rooted incidentally in some very good and very old "natural theology"!), we may still have concern for our neighbor's salvation, but there is also the opportunity for a more enlightened appreciation of the values to be found in the religious traditions of all peoples, and for a more modest assess-ment of the spiritual condition of the non-Christian. This appreciation of the spiritual values of other religion, along with the sense of a Gospel permeated with social values, leaves mission theorists with the task of formulating new attitudes towards the mission apostolate. In fact, this qualifying of the sense of missionary urgency has led to a growing spiritual crisis for many church people, most especially those in an active mission apostolate. Toward a Missionary Spirituality The approach to prayer that I hav~ chosen to discuss here is one that might help the follower of Christ to find "seeds of the word" and a means of salva-tion in the religions of non-Christians or in elements of tribal spirituality not explicitly Christian. At the same time, however, it seems to me a nullification of the Christian vocation to deny or to bypass the person of Jesus Christ, taken both historically and in the Pauline cosmic dimension, as the fullness of divine grace intended to be the Father's greatest gift to humanity. 1 do not say this as a scriptural or dogmatic fundamentalist: the praying Christian should also be an inquirer into the more sophisticated areas of comparative religion and scripture scholarship. Still, whatever level of hermeneutics we may under-take, the New Testament constantly reminds us that courteous dialogue with non-Christians is only part of our calling. The prayerful realization of what Christ means in my life can do no less than move me to tell my dialogue Missionary Player and the Problem of Inculturation / 329 partner how utterly central Christ is for me. What the other does with his ex-perience of my witness is a matter of his personal decision, always to be respected. But that person should know that my life of prayer has shone out through my personal testimony and conduct. Juan Luis Segundo has proposed a helpful approach to the centrality of Christ and tile witness of the Church. He reminds us that the principle "no salvation outside the Church" should not be taken as a matter of church boundaries but rather that it deals with the mediatory role of the Church.8 Segundo calls the Churcha reality at once particular (pertaining to cultural realities), since it is a historical movement serving as a sacrament, and univer-sal, since it serves as a medium of salvation: "It is the expression of the mystery of Christ himself.''9 In Christ the missionary preaches God's love to people, and if he feels unable to broadcast the triumphalistic boast that no one outside the Church will be saved, he is still conscious of the unique gift of Christ. Segundo calls the Christian "one who knows"-- knows Christ as the beginning of the Father's plan that moves into the future and permeates all of time. The Christian is not the only one to enter into this plan, but he is the one who knows it through Revelation.'° This is anything but a revival of primitive gnosticism; it is rather a consciousness (grounded in prayer) of the gift of sav-ing knowledge and the acceptance of a calling found through hearing the Word of God. Such a "knowledge" given.to the Christian is the content as well as the experience of conversion, a living faith that Lonergan calls an "other-worldly falling in love."" What the Christian knows then becomes the driving force for the labor of proclamation. It is, for one thing, a deeply biblical spirituality, for our encounter with the Word of God in Scripture and preaching is our summons to mission. However, I have chosen here to offer a more particular approach or method based on resources within my own Jesuit order, hoping that these resources will serve others in developing a mission-centered prayer life. Recent documents of the Society of Jesus remind us that the Jesuit's self-knowledge is found in the sense of being a sinner who is nonetheless called to be a companion of Jesus.'2 We redeemed sinners are by vocation a "com-munity of dispersion," ready to be sent on mission." The basic dynamic of this vocation, paralleling similar resources in other communities, is the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius o( Loyola, which, made, serve to mediate the gospel-conversion-mission experience. Examining the experience of conversion and mission, we immediately con- 8 Juan Luis Segundo, S.J., Tr. John Drury, A Theology For Artisans of a New Humanity (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1973), Vol. I, p. 76. 9 Ibid., p. 78. ,o Ibid., p. 13. " Lbnergan, Op. Cit., p. 240, ,2 See Documents of The 31st and 32rid General Con.gregations of the Society o f Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 401. ,3 Ibid., p. 405. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 front the problem/mystery of Christ and culture, of the universal sway and dominion of the Risen Christ .and the particular authenticity of cultural values. Indeed, the Exercises are themselves a partictilar cultural phenomenon within which the Christian faith is rekindled and nourished, and which have proved themselves to contain certain universal values. One who truly receives the liberating love of God in the Exercises comes in touch with the sovereign God in a discovery so powerfully expressed by Karl Barth: The love of God stands where there is disclosed, beyond and above and in the twofold negation, the preeminent affirmation--Jesus Christ, the .Resurrection and the Life~ Blessed discovery! God stands in light inaccessible. Blessed discovery! All flesh is as grass and all the glory of men is as the flower of the field. When, in spirit and truth, one of these discoveries is made, the other is involved in it, for both are in fact operations of the One God, whose universal majesty is the "Yes" in the"No.'"' The gift of a knowledge0of the love of God is so moving and powerful (perhaps in a very quiet way), that it is no wonder that enemies of the lgnatian Exercises have called them a brainwashing. The radical freedom of Christian conversion, as Barth so stirringly tells it above, calls us into a permanent state of tension. This tension is made up of what, to borrow from a number of spiritual writers, we might call "moments" of the Exercises--the two moments of conversion and of mission, I call them moments in the sense that they are kairoi, transcendent of any chronological order; they are experienced in an interweaving rather than in succession, and not merely in time of retreat but in the insertion into comrhunity and ministry. In the Exercises, the first truth one comes to grips with is God's sovereign-ty over one's life and destiny. One has to wrestle with and deeply assent to the fact that we are created to praise, reverence:and serve God, and thus come to salvation. I use the word "wrestle" here because the ascesis of,the Exercises contains much wrestling (though in the end we seethe folly of all this muscle!); no human being readily surrenders his or her own sovereignty andautonomy to anyone, even to God. Nor should they readily surrender. We are persons gifted with dignity, and until we realize that this dignity can be brought to final perfection in God alone, through obedience rather than abject slavery (an important reflection in ministry to the oppressed), we should not sur-render our autonomy. Yet we finally do have to surrender to God as Chris-tians, having,wrestled with him and been so wounded that we manifest in our very steps, as Jacob did, the divine-human struggle that eventuates in our ob-taining his blessing. Then the believer, too, becomes an Israel who realizes that all this effort was part of a foolish bout with God's love. I wish to return to this matter of conversion later, for it is the genuine source of crisis (under-stand "decision") in the missionary's grasp'of problems of culture and social justice. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, tr. Edwyn Hoskyas (London: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 321. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of lnculturation / 331 Once the Christian has yielded to divine sovereignty (or arrived at a stage of acceptance, for the faith-choice that expresses this yielding occurs many times in "becoming a Christian"), he has again accepted the reality of his own sinfulness--the disobedience, the recalcitrance, the anger at God's insistence on submission. There goes with this an even more difficult acceptance of divine love, for within our sinfulness we find an inability to let ourselves be loved, and even glory in perversely thinking about God's "No" to us and fear His "Yes." With the opening to grace we rejoice in that essential Christian ex-perience of acceptance of self as loved by God. The loving power of Christ is the "tree of life" that nourishes our circle of existence at its very center--a powerful Amerindian image that indicates a wholeness of life based on devo-tion to its source. But the moment of conversion is hardly complete with repentance, or with the return of the prodigal. The once-lost younger son will discover now the meaning of mature membership in his father's household, that it is shared life and companionship, but also involvement in the labor and the suffering. Such a call to deeper filial piety may well bethe sequel to the Prodigal Son parable, in which the erring but more attractive younger son is equalized with the dour older brother who we all quietly tend to scorn. The sin in all of us resists true belonging. Thi~ is why the SpiritualExercises lead the Christian to understand what it is for Christ to be a "King" in our lives, for him to have a loving sovereignty 'rather than by an imperious and aloof barking of orders that avoids deeper ih~,olvement. David Fleming describes the Meditation on the Kingdom of Christ as the placing of oneself into a "mythical situation, or the kind of story-truth of which fairy tales are made."'~ One seeks to know Christ in whatever fashion one may need in ~order to bring home the fact of his lord-ship. The meditation on Christ's kingdom is thus thematic forall contemplation of the life, death and. resurrection of Christ. All the while meditating on the ministry of Jesus, a retreatant prays for the grace to know him more intimately, to love him with grea~er intensity and to follow him more closely. One can begin to attempt this radical Christian prayer, having first meditated on the mystery of the Incarnation, which we shall later take as the basic model for the missionary apostolate. St. Ignatius presents the Incarnation con~ templation as a mental trylStich, representing the Godhead in heaven, humani-ty struggling on earth, and the young woman of Nazareth who assents to the mysterious calling to' archtypically stand for every Christian's response to God. This meditation enters into the second moment, or moment of mission, but first of all it reminds the Christian that the essential grace to be gained from meditating on the life of Christ is "an interior knowledge of the '~ David L. Fleming, SoJo The Spiritual Exercises: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 65. 332 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Lord, who for me has become man, that I may more love and follow him.'''6 This "for me" (so dear to St. Ignatius-- as well as to Martin Luther!) is the ex-pression of faith in a God who never remains for himself alone but perpetually gives of himself. It is the expression of the love of a missionary God. As the Christian enters more deeply into the mystery of the Incarnation, he realizes how much of the sinner hangs on, and how the moment of conversion is ever-present. As the Meditation on the Two Standards or Two Leaders-- Christ and Satan- shows us, the threat of fear and pride and exaltation of the false self is never far away. Within the gospel accounts one also contemplates types of persons who experience different degrees of submission to God, and so asks himself in what way this reflection applies personally to one's life. As the dread reality of St. Luke's journey to Jerusalem looms up, the Christian is made to realize, along with St. Matthew's newly appointed head of the Church, the still unconverted :Simon Peter, that each one of us shares in that journey. Somewhere within this period of meditation, St. Ignatius' Three Modes of Humility challenge the follower of Christ with the call not merely to avoid all sin, but to enter into his poverty and humiliation and suffering-~-to share fully in his mission. The Third Week of the Exercises is an entering into the fullest meaning of the passion of Christ, not merely with tears of empathy but with readiness for full association. The apostolic moment of the Exercises is mysteriously present here: one comes to sense the many possible challenges that could in the future demand a personal appropriation of the kenosis of the Son of God. Once again, the Christian may fear Christ and remain_ sitting outside the Garden of Olives, only to fall asleep, to avoid the grim strain of apprehension. Or, the disciple might insist with Peter that he will never betray Jesus, and almost in the same moment deny even being with him. We thus discover that it was a relatively simple matter to love God in a childish way as our understand-ing Father, in contrast to our acceptance of his Son as an intimate friend. Friendship can demand so much, and we fear the maturity that it requires, especially when we find that the Son of God, in his hour of greatest need, calls his disciples "friends." This is the opportunity to pass even more dramatically through the ever-deepening dying of "becoming a Christian," which, as Kierkegaard wrote, is all that we ever do in relation to Christ; we never fully "arrive" in this life. But if the Christian perseveres in prayer, there may come, finally, the gift of identification ~,ith Christ in which the cloak of sinfulness falls away and true companionship is accepted. If the Christian embraces the mystery of the cross (according to his or her own personal vocation), there comes that peace which pervades one's prayer at the. entrance to the sepu!chre. A true Christian is a child of the Resurrection, an heir to the joys of the Ibid., p. 70. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 333 triumphant Christ, and a bearer of that joy. The Christian contemplates and absorbs the spirit of the risen life as the spirit of his own life, and, according to Ignatius, reaches holiness through sharing the joy of the Friend who has defeated death. It should be no surprise that this experience, too, is a conver-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious dimensions of life. We do not easily accept joy in our lives, or the fact that we are created for joy, as C. S. Lewis was astonished to discover. In the face of the grief in the world (and, if we are idealistic missionaries or social activists, our own tenden-cy to take too seriously our personal warfare with all this grief), we find it hard to transform our, solemn frowns into laughter of rejoicing. Perhaps we cannot but think of God as the Ruler of Olympus who becomes jealous of our hubris at thinking we might ever simply be happy. And there is that temptation to sadness in the anticipation of apostolic struggles. So conversion to Christian joy, and the mission to share that joy, are again telescoped into two moments of one experience. St. Ignatius did not leave us simply to contemplate the Resurrection with the first disciples. He has bequeathed to us the Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love, which is summed up in God's desire to share himself with his friends. There is given here a recapitulation of all good gifts that descend from the Father of Lights in whom there is no shadow, (Jm 1:16-17). We consider all gifts received, and more, we affirm ourselv~es as gifts of God's favor. A joy-filled Christian can thus say: Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my intellect, and all my will--all that 1 have and possess. You gave it to me;to you, Lord, 1 return it. All is yours, dispose of it according to your will. Give me only your love and grace, for this is enough for me." This contemplation also expresses an aspect of the apostolic moment, both in the call to offer one's gifts in the divine Service, and in the vision of God dwelling in and giving life to all creatures. The consideration of the labor of God within all things helps to feel his presence as the very life of the ministry. There is here, too, a profound theodicy that enlightens the missionary about the working of the Holy Spirit in all created reality, where the Word is somehow present before his preaching even begins. It is a great blessing for an aspiring young missionary (or an older one seeking renewal) to be able to sum up his spiritual experience with the vision of all good gifts descending from above--the gifts of justice, goodness, pity and mercy--"as from the sun des-cend the rays, from the fountains the waters." This is ongoing conversion in the highest sense. The Translation of Prayer Into Mission Let us get "practical" about all of this. Where does one go missiologically Ibid., p. 140. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 with the experience of conversion-mission? If I am a redeemed sinner, saved by God from my own self-oppression as well as from the,oppression of false spirits, l am under a mandate t~ p.roclaim that experience to all people. Fur-ther, as Barth has written, we have surrendered our old way of thinkingto the divine "No" and thus ~have been .renewed in a life of grace through His "Yes." To believe that one is saved is the ultimate experience of freedom, and if one has been gifted with a share in God's holiness, he may even sense a call to relinquish homeland and culture in order to announce that freedom to others. Such a state of soul is a great gift and a great mystery; it is also a great problem, and without ongoing intellectual conversion, can leave one open to many deceptions. There is hidden in this experience the danger that the con-verted Christian will interpret some of the chltural trappings of his conversion as essential to conversion itself. In fact, I woul,d venture the guess that much of the zeal to save "savages" has arisen from an uneducated state of mind in x, relation to what one sees as their "unhappy and primitive state." Metanoia in its most profound etymological sense must be part of any missionary prepara-tion and part of an ongoing learning process. Perhaps the most helpful spiritual approach to a missionary openness to foreign experiences is faith in the Incarnation as a continuing contemplation. So St. Ignatius' Meditation on the Incarnation might well serve as the fun-damental reflection of the apostolic moment of the Exercises.lncarnational theology has, of course, been thematic in the thought of theologians and in Church documents since Vatican Council II. Its frame of reference is the historical context of gospel proclamation, which stresses the service of Christ and his Church to .the temporal order, and the hope this service offers to humanity for a more truly di~,ine-human life. A healthy incarnationalism is also eschatoiogical, and in its optimism does not forget the reality of sin. It realizes that God's becoming human does not empty him of his transcendence but rather gifts humanity with a share in that transcendence. In simple w~ords, the Incarnation has its total fulfillment outside history and awaits the kingdom of God in faith even as it expresses its presence already. In. the con-rex: of missiology, incarnational theology proclaims the en-flesh-ment of God within cultures, and challenges all cultures to reach beyond themselves. Ignatius Loyola was a man of great sensitivity to the ways in which the Gospel is to be received humanly, as his instruction for the use of the senses in prayer attests. The Contemplation on the Incarnation is an experience of the divine entering history, of the Good News transforming human cultures and confronting the evils that threaten what is truly of God's creation in them. ln-culturation does pose a tension, if not even a dilemma, for the Christian, as I have already indicated. The zealous missionary who is filled with a desire to show Christ's love to the world iS a person who has acquired the gift of detach-ment from a familiar environment, though perhaps not to the degree he may think he has acquired it. Even the most dedicated Christian carries his or her native culture along as mental and affective baggage, and tends to extend that Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 335 culture, along with the Gospel, to other peoples. To offer the good things of one's own culture to others is a natural and authentic aspiration, if one is aware that these things are not coextensive with the Good News of Christ. This awareness can come only from a deep study'of the culture and from a "participation" in it to whatever degree is compatible with Christianity. Another factor of great importance is the relationship the Christian, has towards the people to whom he is missioned,. There is a danger that one will project one's own degree of commitment into these people, and thus expect of them too soon that same kind of response. Likewise, to compare one's own "surrender" or submission to God, acquired with the help of many cultural blessings and advantages, to the enslavement of oppressed peoples and its concomitant apathy or resistance, is of course a tragic confusion of entirely different experiences. Worse yet, one might even miss the signs of a people's dedication simply out of a failure to comprehend their ways of expressing it. However, meditation on the Incarnation, if we supplement it with proper cultural training, inserts us into the saving love°of the Godhead as well as into the infinite patience and empathy of Jesus Christ, who met people "where they were," living with them in their struggles and calling them to converison. Christ never destroyed or shattered a person's life, however great a shock he may have dealt, but rather uplifted and sanctified the life of every person. In the Contemplat!on on the Incarnation, St. Ignatius in. structs the retreat-ant to "see" the various persons in the eye of the imagination: "those on the surface of the earth, in such variety in dress and in actions; some white and others black; some in peace and others in war; some weeping and others laughing; some well, others ill; some being born,, and others dying . ,,,8 One is to continue by imagining how so many live in blindness, how they swear and blaspheme, how th6y kfli and go down to hell. And in the same mental exer-cise, we are shown how Father, Son and Holy Spirit conspire to work out the salvation of the suffering human race, and how the messenger Gabriel goes to speak to the Virgin of Nazareth. Whatever Ignatius had in mind as he described the misery of our race (in his own cultural terms!), and however we may have evolved in our attitudes about,how many benighted pagans are going into damnation, a sensitive response to his vision of a suffering humanity draws one deeply into a sharing of the human condition. The point here is that human beings have always injured and oppressed one another in various ways; but the much stronger aspect of this truth(See St. Paul'spollo mallon in Romans 5.) is that all types and cultures, all races and .nationalities, enter into the divine compassionate vision and its willto save and transform. Those who are to be saved will be saved as black or white or red or yellow, whether they wear three-piece-suits or loincloths or nothing at a!l, whether their music is rendered by pipe organs or jazz bands or ancient drums. We do not really know what God has in mind to Ibid., p. 72. 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 do with diversity in the kingdom of heaven; we do know that he has a total disregard for differences as far as the equal dispensation of his kindness is concerned. Thus a meditation on the Incarnation, if carried through with full involve-ment, takes a missionary into the midst of the culture he serves. It prods him to study anthropology and sociology and comparative religion, both in books and in lived exp~erience, as well as to do all that is necessary tomake him atten-tive, intelligeni, reasonable and responsible. It serves as the affective nourish-ment of all the intellectual and procedural efforts one may bring to work in a foreign culture. It would seem, therefore, that a missioner's own prayer life would change, to some degree, along cultural lines: An openness and sensi-tivity to the people will lead to a sharing of indigenous forms of prayer and worship. No matter how hard 1 may try, I will never become a Native American or South African black or campesino, especially if the culture I serve has a history of deep Wounds inflicted by the very society and church I represent. This should in fact be an initial experience of inculturation--to realize that onb is a foreigner or guest, or better, a pilgrim, and that one naturally resists becoming part of a new culture, especially in its startling and strange aspects. But still, we ~can take on many qualities of our environment, and should do so if they insert us better into the life of the people and help us to grow personally. Generally, the first experience of mission life for the outsider is one of conflict. This is emphatically true of all who enter into work among societies suffering from powerful structures and histories of persecution or cultural invasion. To become part of a wounded culture is to absorb inevitably the feel-ings of frustration, anger and despair; to experience the "diminishment" that occurs within as one responds again and again to expressions of these negative feelings. There may also be a deep dissatisfaction with oneself over the failure to remain tranquil and "understanding" in the face of such assaults. The mis-sionary must then turn, in a way perhaps never before experienced, but anticipated in earlier prayer, to the reality of a suffering and dying Savior, who himself knew pain and rejection and the feeling of being an outsider. When'the Word pitched his tent among us, he certainly had to live as an alien in our midst, with disciples who failed to understand, with authorities who re-jected him, with hangers-on who melted away in the face of conflict. The mis-sionary can be helped spiritually, through intellectual resources and the study of the history of injustice or persecution in the area of hi~ activity. For exam-ple," in studying the near genocide of a number of ti'ibal cultures at the hands of invaders who made these people aliens in their own lands, the missionary can learn to approprihte the sense of weakness often felt by Christ himself in the face of the burdens of history. However, even in a badly wounded culture, one can experience gifts in greater number. Among many of the more traditional, or "primal," societies Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 337 of Africa or Asia or the Americas, can be found spiritual attitudes remarkably resonant with the Christian experience: creative suffering, prayer, contempla-t! on, worship forms, acceptance of death, ascetical practices. One can learn to appreciate the reverence of the people, the sense of appreciation for nature, the deep respect for spiritual realities. It is possible to learn to enjoy the music, the dance, the language, the good times, as they occur in a natural cycle of tribal events. Perhaps the missioner will even find in the new culture (not because he hates his own but because he loves it too) a new"sacred space" in which to be at home. As this occurs, one finds oneself both proclaiming and experiencing conversion. Missionary prayer is then truly coming to birth according to the mystery of the Incarnation. To sum up, then, Christian conversion is not a narrowing experience. While it focuses our gaze upon Christ as the Father's unique expression of love, it also constantly opens our horizons and leads us to greater social and cultural understanding. But the conversion process must be a composite of in-tellectual, moral and religious growth. Prayer alone will not achieve this, but without prayer the missionary is merely another cultural invader. A strongly incarnational prayer reminds one constantly that in Christ the Father has reconciled the divine and the human, and that we can indeed preach a transcendent faith that finds roots in local cultures. "When Did We See You?" Donald Macdonald, ,S. M.M. Fr. Ma~cdonald, master 6f novices for the Montfort Fathers, is stationed at the house of Maria Bhavan; D.R. College P.O.; Bangalore 560029; India. ~ watched a group of sisters, out walking, slowly pass a row of hovels. Out-side one of them, a little girl was squatting, cutting wood. Seeing the sisters approach, she put down her knife, joined her hands in the Indian way of greeting, and gave them a lovely smile. The sisters (presumably) never saw her. Three other sisters were walking some five or six yards further back, and I thought that perhaps one of them would have seen what happened, and so stop for a moment to make a fuss over the child. They, too, walked past. I still see the quizzical look on the child's face. Clearly, mistakes are easily made. It is also unfair and invalid to draw a general conclusion from a particular instance. But from years spent in pastoral ministry, not least with religious, I suggest that there may be more in that incident than many of us would care to see. Such insensitivity may be the rule rather than the exception. Those sisters may be like that even with each other. They just do not see. This same lack of insight may be a consistent feature of their everyday world: They may never really live in the present moment, and so miss so much of what is happening about them. If the mature person is "one whose center of gravity is where he actually is," it may explain the immaturity of some religious lives." What is needed is the ability to be both part of, and apart from, the present moment, to give oneself wholly in the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith. So much of religious life, especially as one gets older, can be so unsatisfactory for so many, because they are never really "alive." Any one, for example, who has ever been in the company of the present Holy Father, might judge that he is in fact a great parish priest of the time when such men 338 "'When Did We See You?" really knew their people. He is always aware of what is happening. Though he may be unable to speak to everyone individually, yet he neglects no one, regardless of how many are about him. What steps, therefore, can the religious take to try to become fully alive to the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith? Listen Like a Disciple Once upon a time, most religious began the day with a "morning offering." I suggest that this once-common custom should be revived to help give a precise focus to our day. A line adapted from Is 50:4 makes an ideal morning prayer: O Lord, give me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the weary, provide me with speech. Each morning, wake me to hea~, to listen like a disciple. We should pray that we may speak only what we have learned of God--a disciple's tongue. We beg that we may never ignore the weary, and so have something to say ~to the child, the~neglect of whom began these reflections. Ideally, we want to be able to answer the questions people dare not ask. We want to offer not just sympathy but empathy,, the ability to feel for and with these persons of our world. We must have time for those that n'o one else has time for. So important is this approach to the present moment, that we should ask God to wake us each morning to hear. But, more than that, we should ~vant to listen like a disciple. In whatever circumstances we are placed, we want to be aware of all that is happening, to assimilate our experience. The whole world is sacrament. Thus we are eager to listen like a disciple, to try and catch every, nuance and inflection of the world in which we live. Most of us share a com-mon degree of hearing and vision. What separates us one from another is insight, or the ability to respond to the unspoken word or gesture. Our prayer, therefore, should be that God would give us the sensitivity to be fully alive in our global village. Our center of gravity is ~vhere we actually are. A day begun with ~suCh a reflective prayer to God can ~urely help give definition to our approach to the present. If our minds progressively assimilate the assumptions underlying the prayer, experience, in whatever form it comes, will be integrated into our lives in God. Through Love in His Presence The religious may further deepen that basic insight, by attempting to share the grasp of reality found in the superb opening prayer of the letter to the Ephesians. There Paul's present situation is prison. The future prospects, in his estimate, probably included death by execut~ion.The past, an apostolic life of mixed fortunes, was evidently drawing to a close. In such circumstances :340 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 notice the approach of a mature Christian faith, and the astonishing balance given by such a center of gravity: "Blessed be God the Fathe~ of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with all the spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ" (Ep 1:3). There, the first move is to God. And what a God--"the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ," who has given us everything. This, from a man in prison, towards the end of his life; no self-pity, nor justified disappointment, nor even the pretence of whistling in the cemetery to pretend he is not scared. His perspective is anchored in "God the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ." Whata marvelously expansive opening to a prayer from a man shut in, and about to lose his career and his life. Then his faith, grasping reality,, takes him almost beyond the limits of imagination to the point of saying: "before the world was made he chose us, chose us in Christ" (Ep 1:4). The sense of awe and wonder is evident as it dawns on him, "the very least of all the saints" (Ep 3:8), that these moments of life have been given him by God. The immediate present is received as a gift from God in Christ offered before even the world was made. How does one quantify love on a scale like that? From this perspective, the present moment is an expression of the depth of the love of God for us that is quite literally beyond computation. One just receives and adores. To the extent that I can share this outlook, I allow God to love me in the present moment. Receiving life as so charged with the love of God, 1, too, deepen my capacity to love. I do not know when I first knew God, but from "before the world was made" God knew and loved me. The present moment is the focus of such love, where I "live through love in his presence" (Ep 1:4). This, l suggest, can be the center of gravity of a mature Christian faith. His Spirit Living in You Following Saint Paul, the religious can go still deeper into the present moment. "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" (l Co 3:16). Individually or collectively, God is present among us in the only way that is real to us--through knowledge and love. Anything else is superficial. The point is given added emphasis when we remember that the word translaied "temple" i~s no(our word for Church, b~t rather, "tabernacle." "God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Religious, aware of God so present to them and in them, could only respond in wonder and awe. Their very personality would reflect adoration. "Your body, you .know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since you received him from God" (l Co 6:19). If the religious truly listened like a disciple to words like that, the love of God, found in the present moment, would take them to !he heights, and give them "the strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth, until knowing the love of Christ which is beyond all knowledge, ~you are filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:19). "When Did We See You?" / 341 For the Praise of His Glory Despite possible appearances to the contrary, the above approach to reality, stemming from an understanding of baptism, is simplicity itself. It has to be if it is to center on the present moment. Here the religious is never in the position of the harassed motorist driving at night, and trying to cope with all the signals he is receiving at a busy road junction. Nor is it an artificial con-struct pieced together from a possibly outdated literary-form. Quite simply the religious is aware that he is loved by God. He has always been present to God. Life is God's gift to him, moment by moment. In responding to life so given, all that is deepest in him echoes awe, adoration and love. Thus does he begin to sound the depths of "the unfathomablk riches of Christ" (Ep 3:8). Aware of the presence of God within him, he believes that with that gift he has received everything (see Rm 8:32). As the reality of this dawns on him, the love of Christ overwhelms him, as he begins to see that "for anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation" (2 Co 5:14,17). His center of gravity is moving gradually from self to Christ. Inescapably, and often at a level beyond words, his faith expresses itself in love, adoration, gratitude. In time, as he continues to allow God to 10ve him,his "life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 2:3), so that, however imperfectly, he realizes, as a baptized Christian, "I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Thus he tries to allow God full play in his life. As many religious know, such an approach to the present moment comes to be as natural as breathing. It is the normal, prosaic everyday basis of his life. It is the common coin he uses moment by moment. Living therefore in Christ in a sacramenthl world, one lives in the presence of God, not at some degree removed from him, as though he were a spectator. The smile and greeting of the child which provoked these reflections, can be seen as an expression of the love of God. Her puzzlement as she was ignored was surely an echo of the rejection of the love of God. The insensitivity of the religious presented a glimpse of Christ handicapped, unable to express his love for the child in that instance (see Ph 3:18). Attempting to listen like a disciple to what God might be saying in an incident that was over in seconds, one realizes all too well that, in addition to the above, there may be other inferences. Lord, in the child and the religious do I see you and me? Do I see your love always expressing itself in the most unlikely situations--and my response? Again, is that how I am to the people who come into my life? This reflection does not depersonalize the child, nor take from her her integrity as a human being. She is not a cipher. But viewed from the stand-point of Christian baptism, which is the basis and point of religious life, it is surely not illegitimate for us to deepen the realiz~ation that we are loved by God, that, as a result, we must "owe no one anything, except to love one another" (Rm 13:8). We are in debt, therefore, to everyone we meet, as we can never adequately repay love. There is perhaps no more exacting test of the authenticity of one's faith. The Threat and,the Thrill of Dominion Labour# Beneviile, S.C.C. Sister Labour~ teaches at Delone Catholic High School; S. Oxford Ave.; McSherrystown, PA 17344 Let us m~ike man in our image, after our likeness. Let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground (Gn 1:26). In the light of the Genesis account, we know ourselves to be the hallmark of the creative power of God who transformed the darkness over the a~yss; the God who shaped the formless waste which was the earth; the God who made light to dispel the darkness; the God whose touch brought forth vegetation and seeds of every kind. Custodians of creation, we are challenged to find joy and fulf!llment in this awesome burden of nurturing the universe. To do so, however, we must discern the subtleties of our behaviorand try to strip away any repressive thought patterns which distort our presence to reality. By un-consciously excluding that which is painful, fearful, or even sublime, repres-sion is the ego's means of scaling down life-- that is, of reducing ffc~th terror and ecstasy to something within our control. From infancy on, we have been schooled to block out that which either threatens or diminishes our own stature; thus anxiety is minimized and we are able to move through life with a kind of equilibrium. 'Capstones of God's creative power, we are marked by an ambivalence which suffers from the pain of finitude as well as from the glorious burden of mirroring Infinitude. We live simultaneously on the brink of obliyion and the brink of infinity. Because the possibility of both destruction and transcendence are threatening, we too readily settle for the protection which illusion offers. But truth and ultimate fulfillment demand that we live face to face with the realization that the universe is teeming with wonder and danger 342 The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / 343 of colossal proportion; and we cannot let our consciousness of this inure us to the utter magnificence of that which has been entrusted to us. Instead of deflecting the wondrous mysteries of the world, we must so sensitize ourselves to our task and privilege that the fullness of God's glorious creation opens up before us, and thus we can revel in the inestimable joy to which we are heirs. ". mountainsand hills shall break out in song before you, and all the trees of the countryside shall clap their hands" (Is 55:12). The innate fear by which we resist the greatness to which we are called-- a Jonah complex according to psychologists--prompts us to entrench ourselves in mediocrity, security and conformity rather than bear the risk of the superlative. In the depth of our souls we glimpse our godlike possibilities, but quiver at the thought of having our potentials actualized. Intensity hurts. Pain--albeit a "nice" pain--is the counterpart of intense living. "We are only the earthenware jars which'hold this treasure to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God" (2 Co 4:7). Our spiritual and.emo-tional yearning often seems to exceed our human capacity to withstand. Repression of the sublime is the defense which enables us to maintain our balance in a universe which would sweep.us off our feet if we were totally sen-sitive to it. Ecstatic moments, for instance, are too charged to be endured for long. Because we lack the strength to bear the miraculousness and force of life at its fullest, we cut back to an idle; we moderate the degree to which we will let ourselves experience the grandeur of it all. Closing ourselves off to the possibility of unlimited greatnessthus enables us to remain intact, untouched in the face of an overwhelmingness which might otherwise be devastating. In Thornton Wilder's Our Town, Emily perceives the truth of life only after she returns from the grave: "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize while they live it--every, every minute?" The stage manager answers: "The saints and poets, maybe--they do some." Just as the fear of greatness keeps us walled up, so does the fear of little-ness. In contrast to the rest of creation, we are at best miniscule, and that's ter-rifying. Man, the self-aware capstone of creation, is, in fact, insignificant. Our fragile position in a mighty world began with our helpless condition at birth. Despite unconscious efforts of denial, none of us can ever quite forget the fact that we were once dirty-faced, cry-baby kids who needed another even to change our diapers. As a species we may have been given dominion, but as individuals our personal histories are at best embarrassing. Unlike animals, we are endowed with a self-awareness which makes the truth of our fragility even more terrifying. "It means to know that one is food for worms., to have emerged from nothing, to have a name, consciousness of self, deep inner feel-ings, an excruciating inner yearning for life and self-expression-- and with all this yet to die.''t Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973), p. 87. :344 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Paradoxically, it's this very terror of our own nothingness which has generated such self-assumed authority, such egoism. The instinct for self-worth and self-preservation has sparked the fantasies and repression which delude us about our true condition. Unable to cope with the reality of our littleness, we have let our egos construct vast networks of illusions by which we assert and argue our own value. Without these lies to feed off, life would be nightmarish. The rose-colored vision which repression insures protects us from the omnipresent bogeyman whose terrors would disarm us: if we ever dropped the mask of importance. According to Kierkegaard, the lies perpetrated by the ego are: the most natural ,defense against the anxieties of life. Dread would be overwhelming without the escape hatch which repression offers. Fantasizing about one's role or place in the cosmos is a comforting ex-ercise by which the emerging person obscures the truth which lies at the root of the human condition. The egoism which dominates us doesn't ring of pride as much asit does of escapism. It's weak man's instinctual defense against his smallness; against . total negation in an apparently capricious and topsy-turvy universe. Let's face it, over and above the natural disasters which threaten us, the evils We heap on one another are staggering: the haunting memory of six million Jews exter-minated; the wake of Three Mile Island and the threat of nuclear extinction; four hundred thousand boat people drowned; incessant wars and rebellions which decimate the hopes of nations. Rather than live vis-a-vis our fragile position, we prefer, in fact, to pull the wool over our own eyes. The crux of our failure to resonate with the challenge of dominion, then, is two-edged: a fear of greatness and a fear of littleness. Repression serves to protect us from a double apprehension about the latent power which might be unleashed in us, as well as from a sense of feebleness in the face of a vast universe. By blocking out any mystery or terror which dwarfs our stature, we live comfortably with the illusion of control. Repression makes the dark so cozy that we forget our need for the light. The price of this illusion, though, seems to be a lobotomy of the soul. We have anesthetized our spirits as a means of maintaining our balance. Undoubtedly, to have been made in the image of the Creator and subsequently entrusted with undisputed authority is a fearful heritage. If we are to attain our true stature, however, we must be persons who accept their creaturehood and are brave enough to live without the facade of power or righteousness or control. We will enjoy the thrill of dominion and minimize its threats only to the degree we can live with our own vulnerability--that is, to the degree we can shed the protective armor which has shielded us from so much of life. Thus psychology and religion merge as we relinquish the security blanket of egoism, which has so falsified our percep-tions, and posit our faith in the God who created us. The formula for such faith is basically simple: "One is a creature who can do nothing, but one exists over against a living God for whom 'everything is The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / :345 possible.' -2 The Scriptures clearly delineate the nature of this call to faith: faith in a God who has told us every hair on our head is numbered; faith in a God who knows when every sparrow falls to the ground; faith in a God who feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass of the field with splendor; faith in a God who has said,. "No one who comes to me shall ever hunger and no one who believes in me shall ever thirst" (Jn 6:35); faith in a God who himself conquered death through resurrection. Such faith is the death knell to all the claims which the ego has so jealously guarded. Instead of making our own arrogant assertions the touchstone, our fundamental identity with Ultimate Power gives us our significance. Creaturehood is no longer a liability--rather, it's a hotline to the Creator. The very One who has called us into existence and given us authority stands behind us and before us. The secret fears which once eroded our joy and op-timism are dissipated the moment we see creatureliness as our claim to the Creator. Similarly, the inner yearning to proclaim ourselves and to experience the something more of life takes on new meaning as we accept our role as capstones of God's creative power. Our identity lies in imaging the Father and in nurturing that which his loving touch has brought forth. No longer is our personal worth determined by social and cultural norms; on the contrary, our individual worth is affirmed by our link with the transcendent God who created us and gave us dominion. Love has shared Itself. We have been made in his image. "Before you were born, 1 called you by name," The mystery at the heart of each of us makes sense and finds fulfillment only in relation to the Mystery at the heart of creation. ~ Becker, p. 90. Towards Mutuality in Ministry Sally Kenel, D. W. Sister Sally serves in the pastoral ministry of St. Mary, Gate of Heaven Parish. She resides at 85-28 Forest Parkway; Woodhaven, NY 11421. Which do you identify with more? A typewriter or a piece of paper? Santa's bag or a Christmas stocking? ~ These either/or questions attempt to indicate a basic tension that exists in identifying oneself as either a "giver" or a "receiver." We religious engaged in ministry probably tend toward the giver option. It is true that mfnistry requires service, but a forced choice between giver and receiver can set up a dualistic I-as-opposed-to-you dynamic. This dynamic, in turn, can be d block to the growth of the minister. Much of our training in religious life has reinforced the notion that "it is more blessed to give than to receive.'" Evidence of our working out of this framework can be found in such everyday responses to people as, "What can 1 do for you?" Immediately, the giver/receiver dualism is established. It is my contention that it is blessed to give and to receive; that the clear cut distinction between giver and receiver does not exist in reality; that there can be, indeed must be, mutuality in ministerial relationships. Since this belief was brought home to me in my ministry with the elderly, reflection on this concrete experience is what will give shape to much of this article. However, mutuality in ministerial relationships can exist between people of different ages, backgrounds, sexes, and so forth. In fact, all our relationships offer the possibility of blurring the lines that separate us, plunging us into that unity of all things in Christ. At first cons'ideration, the elderly may seem an. unlikely group to demonstrate that mutuality in ministry is possible. Often, our culture tends to focus only on the losses and depreciation of old age. Economically, in terms of the relationship Of expenditure to production, the aged person is viewed as Acts 20:35 346 Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 347 a liability. From the viewpoint of the dominant values of medicine, the process of human aging is considered to be totally negative. Moreover, the experiences of many people attest to the losses of aging: loss of income, loss of role, loss of status, loss of affection, loss of competency, loss of power-- to name a few.2 .Certainly, the elderly seem to be a group with serious needs, and meeting these needs can become an all encompassing task. However, to look only at the negative aspects of aging and to focus solely on the needs of the aged, starts us ministers on the road to that dualistic l-as-opposed- tozyou mentality. If mutuality is to be a possibility, we must get beyond the needs to the person. As we meet the person, it is my experience that we will find that revelation continues to take place, that we can receive. "What we like best about your visits, Sally, is that they help us to remember." This comment of one of our parishioners personalized what Becker describes as the special function of the pastoral minister, that is . to "bring up to date," so to speak, the treasury of accepting relationships in the life of the older person. The personal relationships which the pastor activates in the contem-porary history of the elderly will help them to "remember" (anamnesis) the past mercies of God, the past loving, unconditional acceptance of family, friends and members of the household of faith (hopefully)? ~ Becker goes on to indicate that this remembering is biblical in nature. It takes on the import that it has in the Scriptures especially in the Old Testament where "remembering was understood not merely in the sense of recall, but in the sense of reliving, reactualizing by recollection.'" Thus, in listening to the story of a~person's life, often we hear an individualized, unique version of salvation history; a testimony tothe action of God i'n the life of that person. ~ Nouwen says that the "great vocation of the minister is to continuously make connections between the human story and the divine story.''~ Several of the elderly people with whom I have had contact have made,these connections themselves during the course of their lives. From them 1 have learned much about their individual lives, much about the mystery of life, and much about the God who informs all our lives. From them, too, I have learned much about m~own humanity and my identity as a religious. That I would learn about the htiman condition 'from the elderly did not surprise me; in fact, 1 expected to learn from those who had experienced so much more of life~ However, 1 was unprepared for the fact that the lives of the elderly would have so much to say about religious,life, Yet, aging thrusts a person into new relationships with poverty, 10helines~ and oppression, the very conditions to which the vows speak. Thus,. 1 found that the elderly stand with us religious in witnessing to 2 Evelyn E. Whitehead, "Religious Images of Aging", in Aging and the Elderly, Spicker et al., eds., p. 37. ~ ~ Arthur H. Becker, "Judgment~and Grace in the Aging Process", Pastoral Psychology, XXVII (Spring 1979), p. 188. ' Ibid., p. 188. ~ Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Living Reminder (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), p. 24. 3411 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 common values. Let us explore this a little more deeply. According to Johannes Metz: Poverty as an evangelical virtue is a protest against the tyranny of having, of possessing and of pure self-assertion. It impels those practicing it into practical solidarity with those poor whose poverty is not a matter of virtue, bui is their condition of life and the situa-tion exacted of them by society.6 Actually, many middle-class people are impelled into practical solidarity with the poor by old age. Living on a fixed income in our inflation-ridden society does not allow some elderly people even modest comforts. For these, poverty is a new experience which can either be creative or devastating. It is creative for those who, during the course of their lives, have realized that the quality of a person's life is not determined by possessions or achievements. On the other hand, if a person's life has been completely caught up in amassing more money and possessions, the poverty that old age brings will be devastating. Those who deal with their new poverty in a creative way have much to say to those of us who accept poverty willingly. These people demonstrate how poverty can open the heart to surprise, wonder and delight in the simple things of life. Consider, eighty-nine-year-old Bernie whose eyes sparkled as she showed me a jar of grape jelly, the gift of her granddaughter. The jar of jelly represented much more than a welcome addition to her diet; it told her that she was loved and remembered. To Bernie, it was a confirmation of the goodness of people, and ultimately, the goodness of God. Faced with this sincere gratitude for such a little thing, I find myself becoming more'and more aware of the many gifts I have been given. Material possessions fade in mean-ing next to such gifts as good health, friends, and joy in living. It is with people such as Bernie that we religious can grow "to recognize, even celebrate, a deeper truth-- that no one ever earns his way, that life's meaning is more a gift than a reward.'" However, while appre~:iating the qualities such as gratitude which the elderly manifest, we must not lose sight of the poverty in which' they are rooted. This poverty is real. It is the kind of poverty that makes three meals a day a luxury and has the elderly counting out their last bit of change in the supermarket. It is the kind of poverty that keeps the house cold all winter long because utility costs are skyrocketing. It is the kind of poverty that isolates because traveling is impossible and a telephone is beyond their means. In short, it is the kind of poverty that invades one's very being; If we allow ourselves to see poor people like these, to meet them and to be touched by them, 1 believe that we religious will be challenged. What the outcome will be in terms of living out poverty will be up to each of us. But the elderly will have ministered to us, repeating the words of Christ: "There is one thing more you must do. Go and sell what you have and give to the poor; yow will have 6 Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 49. ' Whitehead, op. cir., p. 45. ~ Towards Mutuality in Ministry treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me.''8 Metz goes on to define celibacy:. . celibacy as an evangelical virtue is the expression of an insatiable longing for the day of the Lord. it impels toward solidarity with those unmarried people whosecelibacy (that is to say loneliness; that is to say not having anyone) is not a virtue but their social destiny, and towards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation.9 ~' Along with poverty, old age often brings a new form of loneliness. Distance from family and friends becomes a foe too formidable for the decreasing energy of the elderly to overcome. Opportunities for making new friends are often more severely limited than before. Ultimately, death itself provides the final separation. With the realization that much more of one's life lies in the past than in the future, loneliness can assume new proportions. Only when they are older do some ~people seem to realize how lonely their lives have been. John, a single adult of seventy-six, admits that now he is fascinated by children. He loves to be with them, to talk with them, to play with them, to watch them. He claims that in his younger days I~e never reflected on what it would mean to "live on" through children. Now, he sees this as a definite lack in his life, a choice that he drifted into rather than con-sciously made. Loneliness has made him a~are of his lack of responsibility for his life and he regrets what might have been. However, his new awareness of the fact that life is meant to be lived with and for others has led him into caring for his older sister who is handicapped. Thus, loneliness for John, has led not to resignation but to service. Our loneliness which results from our celibate way of life can lead to ser-vice also. However, this is different from using ministry to neutralize one's loneliness. Just as John has moved from the experience of loneliness to that of being with and for another, so too, must we religious come in touch with our loneliness in order that we may capture its implications for service. For some people, the lonelines~ of old age is a new experience, one which can make them more vulnerable. Consider eighty-nine year old Bill who, in the nice weather, spends most of his time enjoying the warmth of the sun in front of his house. One day he was approached by a well-dressed man who claimed to be a friend of his son. After some pleasant conversation, Bill in- ViCed him into his home where the man proceeded to rob him. Bill's hurt and outr,age stemmed not so much from the loss of mbney but from the fact that "he came as a friend, but in reality was a crook." Yet, Bill was willing to risk again. He opened his door to me, another stranger, and invited me to share a part of his life. For him, loneliness helped to keep alive the hope that relation-ships are possible. This willingness to risk is an important quality for us religious to cultivate. What is the point oi" celibacy if we surround ourselves with people who protect us from meeting strangers? Our celibacy demands that we also be open to Mark 10:21. Metz, op. cir., p, 60. ~150 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 others in ways that manifest the hope that relationships are possible. Such openness calls for risks, and the elderly who often have been separated from their life-long companions can show us how to take such risks. The loneliness of the elderly, which is accentuated by a new awareness of death, can lead them to greater depths of faith and hope. If the, lives of the elderly tell us that relationships with people are possible, so too do they announce the reality 6f ~ relationship with God. Moreover, this relation.ship with God is not merely limited to the present, but has eternal dimensions as well. The elderly 1 have come in contact with have revealed a variety of ways of relating to the Lord in prayer. For some, recitation of formal prayers like the rosary is very comforting. Others have discovered fgrms of contemplative prayer. One woman, unable to leave her home, said tl~at at first she missed attending church, but then came to the conviction that the whole worldis a cathedral and that God is truly present everywhere. She looks forward to experiencing this presence in a new way after death. For me, her faith~an~d hope serve as a reminder of Jesus' words: "I am the resurrection. If, anyone believes in me, even though he dies he will live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'''° It is in union with people such as these that our "longing for the day of the Lord" takes on corporate dimensions. It is in union with people such as these that we religious can break out of our own "lack of expectation and resigna'- tion." It is in union with people such as these that we religious can penetrate into the true meaning and value of our celibacy. Finally, Metz defines the ex~angelical virtue of obedience as: the radical and uncalculated surrender of one's life to God the Father who raises up and liberates. It impels one to stand close to those for whom obedience is not a matter of virtue, but the sign of oppression and of being placed in tutelage, and to do this in a prac-tical way.'t Growing older changes relationships, and often the elderly find themselves the victimsof oppression. A well-meaning son or daughter becomes convinced that the aged parent cannot live alone, and forces a move either to a relative's home or to a nursing home. An irate landlord, angered by the low rent an elderly person pays, refuses to make needed repairs. Doctors who refuse to make house calls make more frequent hospital stays necessary. The violent who prey uppn frail older persons can turn a routine trip to the bank in.:io a traumatic experience, and cause a person to live locked at home in fear. It is much the way Jesus put it to Peter: "When you were young you put on your own beet and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt around you and take you where you would rather not go.'''2 Recently, I received a phone call from a woman whose children and grand- John I 1:25-26. Metz, op. cit., p. 67. John 21:18. Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 351 children were trying to move her to another state to be with them. "Please, please save me from their clutches." Her cry touched me deeply. Several days later I visited her. The pain of moving, the pain of leaving what had been home for forty-five years, the pain of separating from friends and neighbors, the pain of uncertainty about the future, were all still .there. However, something else was there, too. "They want me to move because they love me, and so I am going," she told me. Love was able to penetrate through her pain and make surrender a positive action. It is from this woman that 1 have learned much about "letting go," a characteristic so necessary for obedience. This attitude does not act as a sedativ~ for the pain that can result from having our desires and plans thwarted. It is not a withdrawal from life, a giving up because we cannot have what we want. Rather, it involves an active acceptance of what is, embracing the pain along with the joy. "Letting go" calls for seeing things in true perspective without the warping that our own fears and prejudices can bring to a situation. When we cannot let go of something it is usually because we wish that it were other than it is. We hold on to a relationship after its vitality is gone, wishing that it could return to its former intimacy. We insist on our way of ministering to others, wishing that their needs matched our own gifts a little more closely. We hold on to our anger and hurts, savoring them, but wishing that we were not so fragile and vulnerable. And yet, the wishing changes nothing. Our former friend moves out of our life. The ways in which we are asked to serve are often not what we would choose. We remain vulnerable people. It is in the difficulties that We experience in "letting go" that we religious are most closely united to those subject to oppression. Neither situation is easily remedied; both requi~e struggle. Yet the struggle itself is not sufficient to achieve liberation. This remains the gift of God. "If the Son makes you free you will be free indeed.'''~ And so, while we continue to struggle, we learn from others that the love which makes surrender possible is available to us. The elderly can teach us that liberation is a real possibility. In conclusion, as I have~ been ministering to the elderly, they in turn have ministered to me in a variety of ways. They have helped to bring about a new awareness and sensitivity in my ministry. I have become more conscious of the mutuality, in relationships, more apprec~ia~ive of the role of others in my life. "Giver" and "receiver" no longer seem like isolated, opposed ways of being. In fact, I understand to a greater degree how "it is in giving that we receive." This understanding helps me to approach others with more'humility and respect. No matter in what ways I minister to others, I am aware that they also are ministering to me. Mutuality in ministerial relationships offers oppor-tunities for growth that few of us, if any, can afford to pass by. John 8:36. Come and See: The "Cottage Program" M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' "appeared in the May, 1979 issue. He continues to be "Vocation Father" at St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The "Cottage Program" is an instrument of our cooperation in the mystery of the genesis of a vocation that I wanted to share with you through these pages. In our times, as it had been in the eleventh or in the fourth century, or in the time of Christ himself, serious-minded young men and women seek a teacher, a guide, a master-- someone who could give a fuller meaning to their lives. Andrew and John had traveled south, taking time off from their work. They had heard tell of a teacher, a prophetic man of God, on the banks of the Jordan, and joined the stream of seekers heading in that direction. They listened, they learned, they understood--perhaps more deeply than most, because, when the teacher pointed to another, they followed him. And he asked them: "What do you seek?" Ultimately,. that is the question the Lord addresses to each one of us. And the answer we give is the most significant decision of our lives, the decision that, consciously or unconsciously, decides all else that we do. If we listen to the deepest ye~arning of our hearts, we, too, will respond, "Master, where do you dwell?" Master!. Yes. Be our master, our teacher, our guide, and let us abide with you, wherever that may be for us. And he replies, "Come and see!" It is when we experience this presence of God, speaking to our deepest hearts, that we know we have found our Master, our Way, our Life. Some years ago I was in Rome taking part in a vocation conference sponsored by the Sacred Congregation for Religious. There were brothers and 352 Come and See: The "'Cottage Program" / 353 sisters, priests and lay religious from many nations taking part in the conference. One of the modern features of this conference was that each par-ticipant was :free to speak in his or her own language. One evening in the course of the program we had a question box. Archbishop Paul Philippe, the Secretary of the Congregation, was presiding, reading out the questions found in the box, and inviting answers from the floor. "Now, here is an interesting question," he said. "How do you get across to a young person the idea of the contemplative life?" A little priest from Brazil, a Salesian with an Irish name like McHale, jumped up. In rapid-fire Portuguese he explained that the only way one can convey to a person the nature and meaning of the contemplative life is to bring him or her into con-tact with it, and let him or her discover its meaning, l think Father was right. And I believe that is equally true of any way of religious life or anylife of a transcendent nature. "Come and see." That is the thinking behind theCottage Progr.am. There is on the property of St. Joseph's Abbey (near Spencer, Massachusetts) a small stone house with six rooms in all. It was built in the 1920's, hut the lodge-like living room boasts beams over two-hundred years old, taken from a barn that stood in the days of Ethan ~llen, the onetime owner of the property. The kitchen and dining-room have been converted into bedrooms. The garage is now a chapel, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, the 'first vocation director. In an icon over the altar he points to Christ in the tabernacle. Standing in the shadow of the recently built abbey, the cottage offers young men interested in monastic life the opportunity to "come and see." It is usually full, and at times more than full ("full" means five men, but the rooms can accommodate two, and there is also the attic. There is always room for one more!). Those staying at the cottage follow very much the same schedule as the monks. They' form a little community of their own, so they won't feel strange or lost in the large monastic community, but they do join the monks for the Office, the Eucharist and work. The men are welcome to come for a day, a weekend, a week, or sometimes even 'longer-- whatever seems good for them. They are encouraged to think of the cottage as their home--a sort of spiritual home base. They may come whenever they wish. To date, no one has abused this open hospitality. The first visit is usually preceded by some reading about life .in the monastery. Each evening the candidates (or "cottagers," as they are sometimes called) gather around the great stone hearth for a colloquium or a conference with the Vocation Father, where they can learn of the wisdom and ways of the monks and have their questions answered. In the course of his visit, each young man is given practical instructions on how to do spiritual or faith reading and how to meditate. If he already has a method of meditation which has proved fruitful for him, he is encouraged to continue in it. If it is one learned from an Eastern master, he is helped to see how to place it in a Christian framework so as to open it to the Spirit, to faith, 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 and to love, so that it can truly be prayer. Before he leaves, the candidate is asked to formulate his own rule of life and to go over it with the Vocation Father. Our method for this is simple: After reflecting prayerfully on l Corin-thians 2, the candidate takes four sheets of paper. On the first; he tries to ex-press as succintly as he can the present goals of his life as he sees them. On the second, he lists as fully as possible the things he has to do to attain these goals. On the third, he lists the things he sees have been preventing him from moving toward his objectives. And, finally, on the fourth, he formulates a daily pro-gram for himself, and also a weekly and monthly schedt~ie of particulai: events.* This gives the candidate a concrete, practical support for bringing into his everyday life something of what he has learned and experienced as he shared the monks' life accordin.g to their Rule. Such an experience helps the young man to recognize and foster' the grace of vocation he is receiving. In some chses, it may be a long time before an individual can enter the monastic community. The qottage, though, already gives him a sense that in some way he already belongs, that he has his place in the monastery and a'spiritual father who cares for him. In some cases, the cottage experience puts the young man in touch with the contemplative dimen-sion of his life and shows him how to develop it, even as he moves on to some other vocation. It is not as easy for active religious communities to provide a Cottage Program as it is for monastic communities whose life is centered in a stable fashion in one place. But it is not impossible, and I think it can be, in some way or form, very useful. Let me suggest what I think could be an ideal form for an active religious institute. Obviously, the ideal always has to be adapted as it finds its ieal incarnations. It has been my experience over the years that there are a significant number of active religious who feel the call to a more contemplative form of life, either on a temporary or a permanent basis. It seems sad that they must, in most cases, think of going outside their own communities to realize this. :Far better would it be I think, if, ea~:h province or congregation had its own contem-plative house or house of prayer. Here a core group of members, committed for varying periods of time, could live the spiritual dimension of the particular charism of the community in a fuller way, and devote time.to a deeper study of the institute's proper ~:harism. It would be a place where the other members of the community could come, for days of recollection or longer retreats, to get more deeply in touch with their shared charism, their own deepest spirit. Such a house of prayer or contemplative center would, of cours~e, form a very precious and enriching adjunct for the novitiate and house of formation. It could also greatly encourage and inspire the retirement community as the seni6r members live out their life commitment in a more c0nte.mplative way. Here, though, I am thinking of such a house as a context within which the o *For a fuller treatment of this method, see°the Epilogue of my book, Daily We Touch Hhn. Come and See: The "'Cottage Program'" / 355 vocation father or mother could offer the ministry of hospitality. The aspirants would be able to perceive in the core group,a good expression of the spiritual and communal aspects of the life of that community. It is precisely an attraction to these aspects that often leads ~ oung men and women to explore the possibility of living out their commitment to Christ and his Body in a religious community. There would always be a group of professed religiou~ there with whom the candidates could pray and work. These would normally be members more reflectively conscious of the charism of their community, of their own participation in the grace of the founder. And so they would be able to help the aspirants to identify the grace stirring in their own hearts. Such an arrangement-- a vocation program within the context of a house of prayer or contemplative center--will not always be possible, or even desirable in some cases. Another alternative for a Cottage Program would be the house of formation or novitiate, if the vocation father or mother could find a bit of space there; a few rooms, for the candidates and themselves, and a common room are enough. The formation team could be the "stable com-munity" providing the lived experience for the aspirants. And these young men or women could readily identify with the young people in the formation or novitiate program. Whatever the arrangements, the ingredients that seem to contribute to the makimal success of such a program are:" 1. The presence of a professed community which obviously lives the spiritual aspects of the vocation., though thi~ does not exclude involvement in active .apostolates. 2. Access to the younger members of the community who have recently embarked on this life and with whom the candidates can easily identify. 3. A vocation father/mother willing and able to function as a spiritual father/mother, to instruct in the spiritual arts, to pray with the candidates, and to pray for them. 4. Practical instruction in spiritual reading, meditation (we usually use Centering Prayer), and the art of receiving spiritual guidance. Merton's little book, Spiritual Direction and MeditatiOn, published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota, is good for this. 5. A rule of life. 6. An open and welcoming hospitality. We have found that frequently candidates tell others of their experience at the cottage and are eager to have them share ira this program. This has added to the almost geometric increase of caffdidates we have experienced since we have inauguratedthe Cottage Program. There are many other programs underway~in different religious orders and congregations, which include~ one or othi~r of the aspects of the Cottage Program. I do not propose this program as the only way or the best way, but simply share it as one way, a way that has worked very well for us. I believe it 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 has been not only successful in fostering vocations for our own community (we have seventeen in the novitiate at the moment), butin making a contribu-tion to other religious communities, and to the Church at large. This year more than three hundred fifty have stayed at the cottage. All have found it a beneficial experience. Each learned at least a little more~ about prayer; about community, about Christ our Lord and his great love for each one of us. Such fruit makes a Cottage Program more than worthwhile. Now Available As A Reprint Celibate Genitality by William F. Kra[t Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. " Address: Review for Religious Am 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Vocations: Identity and Commitment M. Marceiline Falk, C.PP.S. Sister Marcelline teaches at Bishop DuBourg High School; 5850 Eichelberger; St. Louis, MO 63109. Clearly we are living in times of crises. There are financial and political crises that make the front pages of our daily papers and evening newscasts. But there is another crisis, one that is becoming, or should be, of great interest and concern to those who love the Church of.Christ: that is the crisis of voca-tions to women's religious communities. " For centuries women religious, by their consecrated lives and devoted labors have fulfilled an important mission in the Church. Will they be able to continue that mission? Only if they are able to maintain their membership in sufficient numbers to continue in existence and so perform the apostolic ser-vices that the Church has entrusted to them. The severe drop in the number of vocations to women's religious com-munities is well-known. It is interesting to observe that both the sudden drop in religious vocations and the massive exodus of religious women engaged in active apostolates occurred at the same time that many communities were discarding religious habits, leaving earlier apostolates for other forms of ser-vice, and adopting life-styles more nearly !ike those of their secular counter-parts. Is there a causal relationship or at least a significant correlation between these concurrent phenomena? Are commitment to a specific apostolate and a readily perceived identity important factors in the viability of religious com-munities, as they are in other groups and organizations? Does a distin-guishable garb help to build an identity, promote a visibility which encourages vocations, make known that a religious woman is somehow different? Does a specific apostolic commitment attract the generosity of young women? Are 357 358 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 external life-style practices related to the number of vocations that a religious community can expect? If the answer to these questions is "Yes" then perhaps this will be instructive in our efforts to reverse the trend of too few vocations. In an attempt to find answers to the above questions, to ascertain the percentage of youthful members' in communities, and to establish a possible correlation between youthful membership and some readily observable life-style characteristics, 1 conducted a survey during the spring and summer of 1978. The results of this survey indicate that, indeed, the answer to these ques-tions is in the affirmative~ The results clearly show that religious communities which have kept a readily identifiable religious habit, however modified, and which engage in well-defined community apostolates do have more vocations. Many have adopted modified habits, but they are still readily identifiable as religious women~ Further, the term, "a definite community apostolate," need not preclude other works of charity being undertaken by the community in response to real need, when the work is not contrary to the spirit of the com-munity, and does not detract from the primary apostolate. The following questionnaire was sent only to major superiors of 300 active religious communities.2 The names were selected in a random manner from approximately 800 listed in the 1975 Catholic Directory. Responses were received from 223 or 74°70 of the sample. Of these, two were incomplete. The questionnaire used follows: Survey on Religious Life-style Practices A. 1. Nameofcongregation (or province) 2. Number of final professed sisters " 3. N~mber of sisters in temporary commitment 4. Number of novices of postulants 5. Number of other types of formation (pleasespecify) B. Policy of Congregation in regard to the following: 1. Is there a (superior, coordinator, Yes.____, No___. 2. 3. 4. .) in charge in each local house? Is this person elected , appointed ., other Other types of local government Are personnel appointments made a) __ by direct appointment.'?, ~. b) __ by choice of individual? c) __ by assignmer~t after consultation with the sister d) __ other (specify) Does your congregation have a definite commitment to a specific apostolate in the Church? Yes , No ? What is/are the principal apostolate(s) your sisters serve? Does your congregation have an official, d~stmctive habit? Yes " , No~__. ' Youthful membership includes sisters in temporary profession or promises and novices. Total membership includes final professed, temporary professed and novices. 2 Very small communities and contemplative communities were not included. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 359 8. Does your congregation permit the use of secular dress? Yes~, No__. a) At the sister's own discretion? b) With thepermission of the major superior? c) Other (please specify) 9: Do the sisters have the use of a personal bridget? Yes~, No~. a) Is there a fixed amount? b) For what purpose may this budget be used? The questions in Part A we~:e used to provide information about the number of religious, and to determine the percentage of youthful membership in the congregations surveyed. The percentage of youthful membership can be used as an indicator of viability or numerical stability. Data from questions in l~art A were analyzed, and results are given in the following table. Com-munities were divided into nine groups, according to the percent of youthful members: Table I Group 07o Youthful Members No. of Communities % of Total Sample I Over 10% 18 8.1 o10 11 9.9-6.00/o 19 8.6°1o 111 5.9-4.507o ' 23 10.4070 IV 4.4-3.5070. " 28 12.6070 V 3.4,2.0070 29 13.1 070 VI 2.4-2.0% 29 13.107o VII 1.9-1.5°/0 23 10.40/o VIII 1.4-1.00/o 27 12.2% IX Less than 1 070 25 I 1.3% Let us assume that an average of about 10%0 of young members will allow a religious institute to maintain its membership,3 and that about five years elapse between entrance into the novitiate and final profession. This would mean that an average yearly entrance rate of about 2% would be required to maintain a numerically stable community.' If we accept this percentage of new members as necessary for the maintenance of numerical stability in the community, it takes into account an expected loss of 2% due to death or departures. Communities, then, which can categorize 10% of their population as "young," and which also have an influx of new members at the rate of 2% per year, would have a numerically stable, or even increasing membership. If a community can only describe 5% of its membership as young, this would indicate that it has been receiving new members at a rate of about 1%. A youthful population of 2% would suggest admissions at the rate of 0.4% annually. In each of these instances, given the typical 2% proportion of change due to death and departure, losses to the total membership would be statistically predictable: 1% and 1.6% respectively. The same predictability ' "Religious in the World (Statistics up to Dec. 31, 1974)," Consecrated Life I, No. 1 (1977). ' For example, a community of 500 would need an average of ten new members per year to main-tain a stable membership. 360 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/3 would pertain to each of the nine categories of communities in our sampling. On the basis of these calculations, Group I would be expe.cted to maintain or increase its total membership. Communities in Groups II find IlI could be expected to have progressively slightly reduced membership. If the present trend continues for groups IV, V, and VI, their membership would probably be halved in three to five decades, while those in Groups VII, VII1 and IX might well cease to exist in about three decades. Obviously these calculations are premised on present trends. Factors, however, coulffchange in the future, and this could retard the fulfillment of these predictions-- or accelerate them. Part B of the questionnaire is concerned with som~ external, behavioral characteristics. The characteristics chosen are different from those usually associated with ~ecular life-styles, and traditionally have been common characteristics among active communities of religious women. Numbers one and two have to do with community governance. Numbers three through six are concerned with apostolate and personnel assignment. Numbers seven and eight deal with the matter of religious habit, and nine, with the question of personal budget. In each of thes~ areas, change became evident after the Second Vatican Council. One of the purposes of the survey was to explore the possibility that these changes had an influence on the incidence of vocations to the respective communities. To this end, the number and percentages of communities which evidenced a particular characteristic were tabulated, and compared against the percent-age of young members each community enjoyed. My fullest hopes in pursuing this investigation were not realized. Nothing could be concluded about postulants, or persons in other types of formation. Responses to questions 2 and 3B, concerning local governance, proved ambiguous, and indications concerning amounts and usages in the matter of personal budgets were too varied to admit of interpretation. Therefore, for purposes of our study, only Part A and questions 1, 4, 7, 8 and 9 of Part B proved useful for our analysis. In the tables which follow, the responses to the various items are grouped on the basis of .the proportion of youthful me.rnbers, i.e., on the basis of how those communities have succeeded in draw-ing new members to join them. Table 2 Percent of Communities With a Person in Charge at the Local Level Number in Group % of Group 10070 15 out of 18 83.3%0 9.9-6.007° 16 out of 19 84:2°/0 5.9-4.5070 18 out of 23 78.3070 4.4-3.5070 20 out of 28 71.4%0 3.4-2.5% 17 out of 29 58.4% 2.4-2.0% 18 out of 29 62.1% 1.9-1.5o/0 17 out of 23 73.9°70 1.4-1.0% 15 out of 27 55.6% Less than I% 21 out of 25 84.0% :Vocation~: Identity and Commitment / 361 Table 3 Percent of Communities with Personnel Placement After Consultation Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-&0%o 16 out of 19 84.2070 5.9-4.5°7o 17 out of 23 73.9°/o 4.4-3.5¢/0 24 out of 28 85.7%0 3:4-2.5%0 18 out of 29 62.1°/0 2.4-2.0%o 24 out of 29 82.8% 1.9-1.5%0 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 20 outof 27 70.1% Less than 1% 20 out of 25 80.0% Table 4 Percent of Communities With Specific Community Apostolic Service Number in Group a/o of Group 10% 15 out of 18 83.3% 9.9-6.0% 16 out of 19 84.2% 5.9-4.5% 19 out of 23 82.6% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82. 1% 3.4-2.5% i4 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 15 out of 29 51.7% 1.9-1.5% 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 12 out of 27 44.4% Less than 1% 12 out of 25 48.0% Table 5 Percent of Communities with a Distinctive Habit Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-6.0% 15 out of 19 80~0% 5.9-4.5% 13 OUt of 23 56.5% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82.1% 3.4-2.5% 14 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 14 out of 29 48.3% 1.9-1.5% 11 out of 23 47.8% 1.4-1.0% 8 out of 27 29.6% 1.0% 13 out of 25 52.0% Table 6 Percent of Communities Permitting Secular Dress at Sister's own Discretion Number in Group ~o of Group 10% 2 out of 18 I1.1% 9.9-6.0% 4 out of 19 21.0% 5.9-4.5%0 6 out of 23 26.1% 4.4-3.5% 9 out of 28 32.1% 3.4-2.5% 15 out of 29 51.7% 2.4-2.0% 17 out of 29 58.6% 1.9-1.5% 15 out of 23 65.2% 1.4-1.0% 19 out of 27 70.4% 1.0% 17 out of 25 68.0% 362 / Review for Religious, 'Volume 39, 1980/3 Table 7 Percent of Communities Using a Personal Budget Number in Group % of Group 10% 5 out of 18 27.8%0 9.9-6.0% 10 out of 19 52.6%o 5.9-4.5% 16 out of 23 69.6%0 4.4-3.5%o 22 out of 28 78.6%0 3.4-2.5% 27 outof 29 93.1% 2.4-2.0% 28 out of 29 96.6% 1.9-1.5% 20out of 23 ¯ 87.0% 1.4-1.0% 26 out of 27 96.3% 1.0% 25 out of 25 100.0% These tables indicate that the characteristics of a specific community apostolate and a distinctive habit do have a strong influence on the number of youthful members, and therefore, on the number of vocations to a com-munity. To test the degree of relationship between the given characteristic and the percent of youthful membership, a statistical analysis of the data given in the previous tables was made. The usual instruments of the Spearmann cor-relation coefficients and significance tests were used to demonstrate statistical correlation between the percentage of youthful members and .the various characteristics with the following results,~ The correlation between youthful membership and the characteristic of having "a person in charge at the local level" did not show any 'appreciable significance. The correlation was 38.33.07o with a corresponding significance of ¯ 154. This is evident from the data, which do not show much variation. Most communities reported a person in charge. Answers to the questionnaire on this point were frequently qualified by such statements as: "Yes, but not in smaller houses," or: "No, except in the larger houses." The correlation between youthful membership and the use of a personal budget is even less, at -31.67070, having a significance of .203. The negative correlation indicates that there is some slight decrease in the use of the budget as the percentage of youthful members increases. Again, although most com-munities indicated the use of a personal budget, the amount and kinds of restrictions on its use varied from very small amounts for the purchase of small, personal items to large amounts with practically unrestricted use. It was interesting to note that the use of th.e personal budget was least evident among communities which did not permit secular dress. Personnel placement after consultation with sisters shows a somewhat higher correlation, of 60.0°70, and a significance of .044. Possibly there is a ~ Spearmann correlation percentages, based on O- 100%, measure the tendency of two variable~ to vary ~together, that is to show a relationship to each other. Significance tests decide whether dif-ferences between values obtained from the samples and theoretical expeclations could be due to chance. A low significance factor indicates that the relationship studied could not be due to chance. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 363 relationship between community apostolate and the placement of personnel in areas of community commitment. Of significance is the very high correlation between the number of young members and the existence of a specific community apostolate (90.0°7o and a significance of .001). This strongly suggests that a community commitment to a specific service in the Church has a strong influence on vocations. Such apostolic services were not necessarily limited to only one area of the apostolate. Many communities, in fact, indicated a wide range of apostolic services. But they were community apostolates, and not left to individual choice. A distinctive religious habit is also a significant factor in the number of youthful religious in a community. In this case, the correlation percent is 77.8070, with a significance factor of .007. The most highly significant correlation was the inverse ratio between the number of youthful members and the use of secular clothes at the sister's own discretion. Here a-98.33070 correlation coefficient, and a significance of .001 clearly indicate the negative influence of this characteristic on vocations.6 Ap-parently commun~ities having an open option for secular clothes fail to attract many young women. The characteristics analyzed in this study cannot be the only ones which in-fluence the number of vocations, and so affect the numerical stability of a religious community. Neither are they necessarily a measure of the internal fervor, or of the importance of a particular community's contribution to the Church and the People of God. Other aspects, such as the quality ofcom-munity prayer life, the kind of apostolate, the geographic location,ethnic origin, time of founding--as well as many other intangibles, such as com-munity spirit, understanding of the vows, and other internal characteris-tics- will certainly also have an effect on the overall picture. However, the statistical analysis of the data obtained in the questionnaire does clearly indicate that, generally, communities with a specific and well-defined apostolate, and those which retain the visible sign of the habit do have a significantly greater number of young members. Apparently these two fac- . tors do, in large measure, provide the initial visibility, the instant recognition of "Who We Are," and "What We Do" that are capable of drawing new members to the communities that possess them. 6 The negative percent means that the use of secular dress has a strong adverse effect on religious vocations. 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Since these characteristics, a reasonably specific apostolic service and a distinctive habit (or nonuse of secular clothes) does seem to show such a high significance, it might be interesting to apply the conclusions to a real community. I made an analysis of membership trends for one particular community. This community changed its apostolic thrust from education to an open-ended .apostolate, according to which its present policy is to permit new members to choose their own apostolic field of service. The use of secular dress was also left to the discretion of each sister. A comparison of the membership of this community between the years 1961 and 1978 shows the following:' Table 8 1961 1978 Nurfiber of Final Professed 513 458 Number in Temporary Vows 47 1 I Novices 48 3 Total Membership 608 472 In 1961, the youthful membership (novices and "juniors") was 95, or 15.6% of the total. In 1978, these numbered only 14, or 3% of the total membership. This represents a net los's of 136 sisters during this seventeen year period, a 22% loss. During this same period, 94 sisters died, and there were 80 new admissions. There were also over 100 departures. The major loss due to departures and a decline in admissions began in 1968, when the policies of individual choice of apostolic service and the use of secular dress became effective. At this time, a new formation program was introduced, placing a strong emphasis on self-fulfillment and promoting individual choice of apostolic service and of the mode of dressing. The median age in 1961 was about forty-eight years. In 1978, it had risen to about 63 years. In 1961, about half the community was professed less than twenty-five years. By 1978, half the community was professed for forty or more years. During the last ten years, since the new policies of self-choice in apostolic service and the use of secular dress went into effect, only fourteen sisters made first profession. Surely this would indicate that the rise in median age is rather due to a lack of new vocations, and of departures, than to a ¯ general rise in the median age of the population at large. Further, it is clear that the median age of this particular community is much too high for com-placency about the future. The following table shows the shift which took place in the median age of this community: ' The year 1961 was chosen as starting date because it was the last year before Vatican ll; 1978 is the latest date for which statistics were available. Vocations." Identity and Commitment / 365 Table 9 1961 1978 Number of Years Number of % Number of % of Professed Sisters Total Sisters Total More than 53 18 3.0 61 13.0 48-52 22 3.6 44 9.3 43-47 30 4.9 65 13.8 38-42 40 6.6 79 16.7 33-37 55 9.0 42 8.9 28-32 65 10.7 32 6.7 23-27 78 12.8 37 7.8 18-22 65 10.7 32 6.7 13-17 39 6.4 40 8.5 8-12 48 7.9 15 3.1 4- 7 54 8.9 8 1.7 3 or less (Including Novices) 95 15.0 14 3.0'- Prognostications from this table make it clear that if the trends continue, and are not somehow reversed, it will become increasingly difficult for this particular community to continue its service to the Church, that, indeed, it faces a struggle for survival in the not too distant future. The. decrease in religious vocations is a grave concern for the whole Church, as the following statement of Paul VI in an address to religious women indicates: ~ In truth, here again we have to" make a double observation that is not a happy one. Religious vocations, for women, too, are falling off; yet both the Church and secular society have a gro.wing need for these vocations. This is one of th~ problems of our time, for whose solution we must work and pray? The importance of identity and apostolic commitment in fostering voca-tions is stressed by Cardinal Pironio, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for' Religious and Secular Institutes: In a serious study of consecrated life--particularly in evaluating certain attitudes and concrete activities--there is no doubt that many things would change if we responded with loyalty to this question: "What do Christ, the ecclesial community, and the world in which we live expect of us?" At any rate, there are three aspects in consecrated life which it would be well to emphasize: The Church expects religious to be faithful to their identi-ty, to their essential values, and to their evangelical relevance . Religious are, before all else, Christians, but they are religious in a way that is unmistakably distinct . Religious identity d0es not segregate religious from the rest of the members of the People of God, nor does it remove them from the world; on the contrary, it identifies them and involves them in the world with their own, unmistakable specificity . The loss of identity is one ~ Pope Paul VI, "New Horizons for Women Religious," address given to women religious on the feast of the Nativity of our Lady, 1964, Documents on Renewal for Religious, Daughters of St. Paul, 1974, p. 57. 366 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 of the causes today of the drop in vocations to consecrated life. When an institute's iden-tity disappears, or is jeopardized, it is only logical for young people to lose their en-thusiasm and become disoriented. Being faithful to one's self is therefore to take on a strong commitment with God and with men. it is the essence of our vocation, and of our consecration, and of our mission.~ I The words of our Holy Father, John Paul II, spoken to mothers general on November 16, 1978, just one month after his election, are particularly significant: And if your consecration to God is really such a deep reality, it is not unimportant to bear permanently its exterior sign which a simple and suitable habit constitutes; it is the means to remind yourse!ves constantly of your commitment which contrasts strongly with the spirit of the world; it is a silent, but eloquent testimony that our secularized world needs to find on its way, as many Christians, moreover, desire. 1 ask you to turh this over carefully in your minds. '° This study of external behavioral characteristics as related to vocations is an attempt to contribute to a serious study of possible causes for the evident decline in the number of religious vocations to active communities of women in the United States. While it is true that this is only part of the total picture, it is hoped that a spirit of openness would encourage communities to consider seriously the impact of these external behavior patterns on the perception of what religious life is all about. The interior spirit of a community is of the ut-most importance, but the external manifestation of that spirit of dedication, the willingness to be recognized by a religious habit and the having of a specific apostolic commitment to the service of Christ in the Church and the world is also important. These externals advertise for all to see: "We are religious! We do believe that our.being and our service are essential to our specifically religious witness." 9 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, "Th~ Joy of Fidelity," Consecrated Life Ill No. ~, 1979. ,o Pope John Paul 11, "Be True Daughters~ of the Church, Not Orily in Words But in Deeds," Strain Forward, Vol. 12, No. 1, January 1979. How About a Semi-Sermon Sometime? M. Eucharista Ward, O.S.F. Sister Eucharista teaches at St. Ladislaus Higl~ School; 2697 Caniff Ave.; Hamtramck, M 148212. It was hard to imagine how God could add to a spiritual nurturing that for ten years had seemed almost the equivalent of hothouse conditi

Issue 39.6 of the Review for Religious, November 1980. ; The Fot~rth Level of Prayer Developmental Stages and the Novice Limits of Adaptability of the Exercises Volume :~9 Number 6 November 1980 REVIEW ~:OR Rrl.J~aOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X). published hi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Departmenl of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room a,28:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By R~v~w FOk RFa.~¢aous. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.(X). Subscription U.S.A.: $8.1XI a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 fi~r two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write R~v~w I;Ok R~-:~,~;~ot;s: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1980 Volume 39 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manu~ripts and books for review should be sent to REw~:w ~on R~:~AG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as repr.ints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Benedictine Call to Judgment James M. Desche~e, O.S.B. Brother James has written this article especially to celebrate the 1500 anniversary of the Benedic-tines. His last article, "Journey into Christ," appeared in the issue of July, 1980. He resides at Christ-of-the-Hills Monastery; P.O. Box 32849; San Antonio, Texas 78216. Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it !s high time for us to awake out of our sleep., the night is far on its course., day draws near. (Rm 13:11,12). Despite the Lord's command to comfort the afflicted, one cannot help but be struck by the frequency with which the Lordhimself afflicts the comfort-able. Despite our very human tendency to seek peace and security, one cannot easily forget (for the Lord will not permit it) that Christ came "not to send peace, but a sword" (Mt 10:34). When, like ancient Israel, we have come to prefer the security of enslaved lives, the Lord, ever perverse in his grace, calls us out of our comfortable slavery to wander in a desert of freedom, exiled from security and peace. ¯ Wandering.in that terrible place, we long with all our hearts to be back in the dreary mud pits of Egypt, preferring the dry but dependable crusts of slavery to those fierce, unsatisfied hungers we discover within us as we sojourn in the desert of fre~edom.and ~of judgment. Whatever the pain of crises in our lives, we must never forget that the crises themselves are divine gifts. The Greeks, who had a word for everything, gave us the word crisis. But they wisely knew (as we often do not) that the word, while it involved pain, really meant a time of challenge and judgment, an opportunity to-measure and evaluate and change. For the Christian, crises are moments in which God confronts us with truths we had preferred not to see, with realities we have chosen to ignore, with decisions we have refused to make. For the Christian, a crisis is a 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 moment--albeit painful--of deepest grace. For a Christian who has become settled in a life of slavery to routine and superficial existence, a moment of crisis is a moment of salvation and an opportunity to regain touch with th~ deep roots of being, to be enlivened and energized by a return to life and grace. Just as there are moments of crisis ! of j udgment-- in each human life, so are there moments of crisis in each human generation and in each human society. This is the human condition: to stand--as an individual and as a race--at eve.ry moment in need of judgment and of conversion, in need of redemption and of new life. It is his recognition of this condition--and of Christ's lordship over all our crises--that prompts Saint Paul to call us to judgment: "Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it is high time for us to awake out of sleep." Paul's word, translated here by "high time," is the Greek kairos, with its sense of urgency, of.opportunity, of occasion. The word for Paul usually suggests a critical time (a time of judgment), a God-filled moment of salvation, an end and a beginning. Fifteen hundred years ago was born a man whose wisdom in crisis was to have an incalculable influence on the history and life of our. western world. Benedict, born around the year 480 in the small Umbrian town of Nursia in the Apennines, found himself thrust into a world in crisis. The old Roman Empire and its social fabric were f~lling into ruin around this young man. Rome itself narrowly escaped attack by Attila the Hun in~452 only to be sacked a few years later by the Vandals. Nor was the Church im-mune from crisis. In 451, churchmen struggling over the doctrinal issue of the two natures in Christ met in council at Chalcedon. The results were a victory for dogma but a defeat for Christian unity, giving rise to the two schisms of the NestOrians and the Monophysites, and planting the seeds of the great disunity between east and west that were to bloom prodigiously in the later Middle Ages. In brief, it was an age not unlike our own. Into the crisis of his age entered this man Benedict who wisely allowed the larger crises of his time to become one with his own personal moment of crisis, of judgment and of salvation. In the person of Benedict, in fact, a judgment is passed upon the age itself: "Even while still living in the world, free to enjoy all it had to offer, he saw how empty it was and turned from it without regret" (St. Gregory the Great: Dialogues, H, Preface). It is the genius of Saint Benedict, and the special mark of his,holiness, that this judgment, while never compromising itself, always avoids the taint of the puritan harshness we of later generations have come to expect in those who renounce the world. Instead, as we discover in the Prologue to his Rule, Benedict's judgment is filled with goodness and grace, with charis as the ancients knew it, sounding clear notes of kindliness; graciousness and mercy. Benedict calls his advice that of a "loving father" and finds only joy in the~call to judgment: "What can be sweeter to us, dear brothers, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 803 life" (Rule, Prologue). As the monk confronts the crisis of his own life, any hardness results from the very hardness and smallness of his own heart. But in crisis, the Lord stands ready to give the monk a neff heart and with this growth comes an ineffable joy: "For as we advance in the religious life and in faith, our hearts expand, and we run the way of God's commandments with unspeakable sweetness of love" (Rule, Prologue). In its essence, the monastic or religious life as Benedict understands it is a call to judgment, a call to be ever open to the voice of the Lord, a vocation to enter into each and every moment of crisis with the faith tha, t God is present in that moment to recreate and renew our hearts and our lives. The great enemy to this vocation is hardening the heart: "Today if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." And Benedict's remedy for this is sounded in the opening of his Rule: "Listen, my son, to your master's precepts, and incline the ear of'your heart." For Benedict this is no poetic fancy. To listen, to incline the ear of the heart, is exactly what is meant by obedience. "By the labor of obedience you may return to him from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience" (Rule, Prologue). Obedience, to the Latin ear ofSaint Benedict, always carried a message we easily miss in the English word. Obedience (from ob +audire) has to do with listening, with hearing, with attending to. It involves an openness and a sensitivity to the voice and,the, will of the Lord speaking to each person in each situation. To obey is tobe wholly open and submissive to the Lord in crisis; it is to be ever willing to enter into crisis because that is .where the Lord will be found at that moment. It is a willingness to allow the Lord tobe our judge, to have his way with us. It isa willingness to let one's,heart be broken, if that is the Lord's will. It is to. hold back no part of one's life,ands'being from the Lord of all life and being. To obey is to be wholly the Lord's creature, Benedict clearly indicates that it is in obedience that the monk finds a deep stability when he quotes from the Gospel the words: "Whoever listens to these w~ords of mine and acts upon them, I will liken him to a wise man who has built his house on rock. The floods came, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it did not fall, because it was founded on rock" (Rule, Prologue). When we are in crisis, security and stability appear to lie in avoiding the critical issue. When .the Lord calls.us out of slavery into the desert, slavery doesn't look so bad. Only the0deepest faith and the deepest trust in the Father's love can teach us to face the crisis, to enter into judgment, to listen to and obey the voice that calls us into seeming desert and chaos and.ruin. For Benedict this faith and trust are reflected in the words: "In his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life." What appears to be a way of death is really the way of life. One of the.practical ways Benedict provides to his monks for learning this deep trust in the Father's unfailing love is the office of the abbot; the abba who incarnates among the monks the Father himself. It is by his obedience to the abbot that the monk learns obedience to the Father. Indeed, it isin his obe- 804 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 dience to the abbot that the monk is obedient to the Father. Yet Benedict is careful to remind the monk that obedience-- in its radical sense of openness to crisis and the will of God expressed in concrete situations--is not limited to the relationship between a monk and his abbot. The monk is to recall that he must be obedient to all his brothers. "Not only is the boon of obedience to be shown by all to the Abbot, but the brothers are also to obey one another, knowing that by the road of obedience they are going to God" (Rule, Chapter 71). The call to crisis involves every member of the community. No one is to be denied our obedience--our listening, our sensitivity, our responsiveness. Every crisis between Christians, whether they be monks or not, is a God-filled kairos, a time of salvation. In light of the foregoing, it may be objected by some that this appears to be a diminution of the force of the vow of obedience. I have avoided all the juridical and legal aspects of the vow. Yet I have done this purposely, and for two reasons. First, the vision I find in Benedict of obedience is deeper, stronger and more demanding than. any purely juridical concept. Indeed, it is possible (perhaps even common) to find juridically conceived obedience an effective means of escaping real crisis, real judgment and encounter between the monk and the Lord. Secondly, a purely juridical view limits our considera-tion to those who are juridically bound by a vow. Yet Benedict's view of obe-dience is no less applicable to every Christian man and woman than to monks. All are called to crisis, to judgment. No Christian is exempt from this demand nor from the demand of obedience to each of his fellow Christians. Nor is any Christian exempt from the demand Benedict makes by the vow of conversatio morum, usually translated as "conversion of manners" or "reformation of life." For in its most profound sense, this vow is essentially a radical call to crisis, to judgment. It requires that at every moment we respond to the voice of the Lord calling us to newness of life. Today's response may have to be relinquished to tomorrow's response. Our hearts must be continu-ally open to each new judgme.nt and call from the Lord. We are not to settle down, not to set camp in the desert, but to be continually on the move. There is no standing still in the service of the Lord. Endless conversion, perpetual metanoia, are the marks of a truly living Christian. To guarantee that the monk will not be tempted to escape this demand of endless reformation and endless conforming to the living will of God as revealed in crisis and discovered by obedience, Benedict adds the third vow of stability. By this the monk renounces his right to escape God's demands in the present moment and circumstances by moving into other circumstances. Run-ning away is not permitted the monk and so there is nothing for him to do but to submit to the divine crisis and know it is God's will that he submit. From the day of his profession, the monk is assured by God's promise that it is here, among these particular persons,, that God will confront him in crisis. To flee from these brothers, then, is to flee from God and his call. (I do not wish here to enter into the problematical issues of canonical transfer of stability or of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 805 departure from the monastic life, though these deserve fuller treatment in light of what has been said here.) One of the last points to consider in Benedict's vision of the Christian life authentically lived is the place of humility. A close examination of his chapters on hi~mility reveals that humility has a great deal to do with truthfulness. It has to do with facing the truth about ones.elf. It has to do with seeing oneself for what one is. It is a virtue of utter and radical realism. Above all, its end is tosee oneself as God sees one. It involves looking at fearful truths intently and steadily, refusing to turn away from them, until by grace and work, all fear is transformed into love and "the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out fear" (Rule, Chapter 7). Humility is thus related to crisis; it helps us to face crisis, to endure judg-ment, to bear the truth. It also enables the monk to be of assistance to his brothers in their need to face crisis. The monk serves his brother by being perfectly truthful, by obscuring nothing of his own weakness or sin and nothing of his brother's weakness and sin. Humble monks do not support one another in self-deception. Equally importantly, the monk is alway.s ready, in humility, to take from the moment of crisis the truth of his own goodness and to affirm the same in his brothers:.Humility is the readiness to admit the truth as it is revealed at every moment. This is particularly seen in the requirement that the monk hold back nothing about himself from his spiritual father. Every selfish thought, every petty jealousy, every twinge of hatred--all must be laid without hesitation before the spiritual father. In this way, spiritual direction for the monk becomes in the truest sense a crisis and a moment of salvation. Nothing of Benedict's vision is without relevance to the life and growth of every Christian. In this fifteen-hundredth year of Saint Benedict's gift to Christianity, it must be seen that his gift is a gift to all men and women who seek the Lord. The gift of his monks is to be bearers of crisis. The monk must live in such a way that the world may never forget that Christ is Lord. The monk must live in such a way that the values of the world, insofar as they are opposed to the values of Christ, are absurd and empty. Benedict's sons and daughters must see that their lives bring a continual judgment on the lives of all men and women; that their lives are lived in a way that proclaims the power of truthfulness, of humility, of obedience. The monk must live his life in such a way that it would make no sense if there" were not a loving Father guiding and ruling all things. It is this "senselessness" that can bring the world into crisis, into facing the truth of its own empty values, its own abandonment of God, This is the Benedictine crisis, this call to judge the world not by condemn-ing or rejecting it, and certainly not by fleeing it; but by living every moment in such a way that the world must face the question of God's rule and the reality of his kingdom. Our criticism must lie, like Benedict's, not in speaking against the world (though this too has its place), but by the positive and grace-filled 806 / Review for Religious~ Volume 39, 1980/6 living of our lives in truth, in love, in brotherhood, in simplicity, in peace: In our time, perhaps more than ever, this is the task to which Benedict's monks and nuns are called, For all of us it is a time of crisis, of asking whether weare really doing what Saint Benedict interided. To answer this question, we do not 'need to examine our effectiveness. For our effectiveness lies entirely in our observance of the Rule and spirit of Saint Benedict. It is by being witnesses to God's kingdom that we shall have our effect, and this witness lies in our fidelity to the principles we have briefly looked at~here: obedience, continual reformation, stability, humility. For fifteen hundred years the presence in the world of Benedictine monks has been a sign and a challenge, a judgment and a question .--a crisis. So long as~we do not ourselves abandon the elements of our life which keep us ever open and sensitive to the workings of the Spirit, so long as we have the faith and the courage to examine ourselves for fidelity to the authentic Benedictine tradition and to step into the future with faith and trust and submissive-ness- so long as these things are present,,the Benedictine family and mission will be .needed, will be in crisis, will be genuinely alive, ~ We attest to a frightened world that the'sword of Christ.is but a prelude to the peace of Christ, that death through olSedience leads to the fullest life, and that the ruins of our lives in the crises we meet are the foundations of Resur-rection. The world's fear must be cast out by the perfection of our love.For it is love that is the greatest judgment and crisis in all of human history. Benedict, in his school of the Lord's service, shows us the way to the crisis of love. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery David J. Hassel, .S.J. Father:Hassel is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Loyol~i University in Chicago. His last arti-cle, "'Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing Oners Memories with Christ," was printed in the issue of March, 1977 and is still available in reprint form. He currently resides at 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, IL 60626. Ironically, the terms most frequently used to describe our present-day spirituality can cause us the most c6nfusion: peace, consolation and desola-tion, dryness in prayer, contemplation in action, discernment. Since these terms.point to.mySterious processes within our experience, even a book-length analysis of them would be hardly adequate. But perhaps an article can achieve some clarity if it attempts simply to locate the happenings described by these terms~ In other words, if we were to ~st~rvey the various level~ of human awareness--e~en with some crudity--we might better understand the events occurring at these levels.' But before doing tlais survey, could we first describe the problems to be touched hire? For ~xample, people can feel disturbed about the peace they experience in their decisions and their prayer. Is this peace simply the euphoria of having finally made a decision after hours or days of sweaty deliberations? Is peace in prayer mainly exuberant physical ~nd mental health? The f6~ty'- year old priest has decided that God no longer wants him to practice° his priesthood but now wishes him to marry the woman who has helped him so ' I am deeply indebted to the retreatants whose honesty and trust have furr~ished me with the data out of which this article rises, i am particularly indebted to the following persons who have attempted to save me the usual number of unhealthy exaggerations inevitable in such an article as this: Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., Robert Harvanek, S.J., Paul Clifford, S.J., John Schuett, S.J., Richard Smith, S.J., Robert Murphy, S.J, :Mary Jane Linn, C.S.J., Frank Houdek, S.J., Jules Toner, S.J., Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes. 807 808 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 much in his ministry and in his discovery of manhood. He feels peace in this decision; but is this "peade" simply the relief from heavy parish obligations and the glad anticipation of married life? Will "peace" remain when his new life begins to place renewed obligations on his shoulders? Again, a person can experience what seems to be a split in his personality. He finds himself half-miserable, half-happy. He asks himself: "How can I, at one and the same time, experience the depressing defeat of losing my job and yet, in my depths, feel confident? Are there two of me? Is this the play of con-solation and desolation within my life? Or are the pressures of life splitting my consciousness into two?" A third problem is Christ's command: "Pray always." Such a request seems psychologically impossible when a mother is raising four children between the ages of two years and twelves years or when an engineer is testing a heavily traveled city bridge for stress-breaks and wondering what will hap-pen in the business community and-at city hall if he condemns the bridge, or when the advertising executive is sizing up a prospective customer, estimating the product to be advertised, and puzzling over the morality of a slick sales-pitch which has just come to mind. But if Christ is asking the psychologically impossible, is he not providing the conditions for skepticism about his whole message? A fourth problem arises when we focus upon discernment process the three puzzling cases just mentioned. What does it mean to discern God's will in a decision, if I am unsure about peac~, consolation-desolati0n, and ongoing prayer in my life? Such discernment is often termed the concrete call of Christ to the individual Christian or to his community. But does God call only through external circumstances and other people, or does he not also" make his desires known within the experience of the individual Christian? Does such an interior experience occur in the imagination or in the mind or in the heart of the person? Or in all three at the same time? Or somewhere else? Some clarity, it is contended here, can be attained in these problems if one distinguishes four levels of awareness in the praying Christian: the superficial, physical, psychic, and mysterious. Could we, therefore, describe these levels then indicate a way of uncovering the fourth level, next show the type of partial solution which the appreciation of this fourth level offers to our prob-lems, subsequently explain how the fourth level would seem to affect the upper thre~ levels of awareness, and finally offer some cautions about the use of this fourth-level explanation? These five steps would be the strategy of this presentation. Four Levels of Awareness2 First Level: the Sensuous-Superficial. This first level is the skin-surface of experience: sensuous awareness. It is a tissue of minor irritations and pleasures. For example, I am displeased by the cold draft playing on my neck during the auditorium talk, or by the raspy.voice of the woman describing her The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 809 Florida vacation or by the first gnawings of hunger at 4:30 p.m., or by the slight rash on the back of my hand. At this same level, I experience satisfac-tion at a favorite meal of ham and sweet potatoes, at the sweet smell of spring grass just cut, at the relaxation of a hardy laugh, at the caressing of the family cat. Such minor irritations and pleasures ordinarily do not demand much at-tention and are taken for granted as the normal flow of life. Though I am often barely conscious of them, they do give life its continuous texture. Second Level: the Physical-Vital. Underneath the first level of awareness, there are other happenings which demand attention because they last longer and are more intense tfian events of the first level. Here are the pains and joys which go deeper than minor ir.ritations and pleasantries~ Anyone who has experienced the steady throb of neuralgia or the constant harassment of ulcer pains or the brain-deadening effect of insomnia will vouch for the e~xistence of this second level of awareness. Here are also pleasurable joys which exceed the simple pleasures described in the first level. There is, for example, the exuber-ance of glowing health, the feeling that "all the world is beautiful and owned by me'~-experiences which the carbonated-drink advertisements exploit. At this level the fifth symphony of Beethoven can stir a person to his depths with its elegant majesty, can make him feel noble beyond his dreams. Or this level contains the sustained sat!sfaction of slowly mastering one's tennis or golf. Here, too, the ecstasy of sexual pleasure .occurs with its deep drum-beat of powerful delight. The very power of the pains and pleasures of this second level demand our attention and make us aware of how superficial the first- . level irritations and pleasures are. Yet these second-level happenings do com-penetrate and influence the first-level, sensuous awareness. One's enjoyment of a favorite dinner is enhanced by the feel of good health or diminished by in-somnia. Third Level: the Psychological-Psychic. Although the second level of awareness contains happenings of insistent strength, still the third level of awareness is capable of riveting a person~.s attention and so possessing him or her that, for a time, he or she is seemingly unaware of second- or first-level happenings. The deep sorrows and the pure joys of this level totally permeate a person's being and consciousness. For example, the young woman, working at her first secretarial job, may be hypnotized by fear of failure so that her voice creaks, her fingers clog the typewriter keyboard, her memory fails and she feels no hunger throughout the first day of work. The paranoid person 2 In their article "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment," (The Way, Supple-ment #6, May, 1968, 27-34) Felix Letemendia and George Crofts'peak of four levels of experience: the sensorial, the vital, the psychic and the spiritual, which somewhat resemble the levels described here. They have borrowed their descriptions from Max Scheler, the philosopher, and from Kurt Schneider, the psychiatrist. Of course, there are many levels of experience, if one wishes to be very specific. But perhaps this more simplifiedlsketch of four levels better serves our present purpose. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 may be so concentrating on the "derogatory actions" of others that he walks through a glass door without knowing that he is bleeding from cuts. At this third level a woman may experience haunting doubts about her ability to love another adeq~uately and thus may begin to feel like a dull, unattractive child u~na.ble to evoke love from another. A father's mental pain at watching his daughter waste away in unrelievable cancer is matched on this level only by the suffering of a wife undergoing systematic and.continuous belittlement from her husband while the children look on bewildered. But at this third level, the depth of the pure joys~equal such sorrows. Here an6ther mother experiences the warm security of being loved by an admired husband and of being respected by admiring children: Here, too, is where the older brother ~njoys the four-touchdown afterri0on of his younger brother whom h~had 6oached on all the moves of a tigl~t end during four years. It is at this third lev61 that the novelist reads over the'laudatory reviews of his book and experiences lasting gratitude to the elderly journalism teacher who had taught him his craft. Here, too, the woman social worker sits late at her desk, savoring the bone-tiredness but deep satisfaction of a day well spent in patiently binding together fragmenting families, persons, and situations. This third level, then; encompasses the top two levels'and, in so doing, can render them almost routine. For the top two-levels, distracting as they may be to this thir~l level of awareness, are integrated into a fuller meaning at the°third level. The tired social worker does feel the pangs of hunger at the ~irs~t level, and at the second level does anticipate the pleasure of relaxing at home with her husband over a leisurely dinner, but all this is occurring in the wider and deeper context 'of fulfillment in her work at the third level of awareness. Fourth Level: the Underground River of God. ~ The fourth level is like a great underground river which, underlying the upper three levels, quietly nourishes them, sustains them in their storms and blisses, acts as the continuity (the stay-in~ power) underneath~their sometimes rapid fluctuations of irritation-pleasantry, pain-pleasure, sorrow-joy. Compared to theupper three levels, this fourth level is a quiet beneath turbulance, a constancy amid flux, a seem-in~ Passivity under great activity. Consequently, the fourth level is never explicitly conscious in itself (as are the top three levels) but only by way of cont~ast with the top levels. It is not simply experiential, but implicitly experiential,' as we note in the following two cases. Discovery of the Fourth LevEl A remarkable case-history, whose details rife changed to disguise the ~ Being ignorant of C. G. Jung, the author would not wish the combined images of underground river and of ever deeper experiential levels to be interpreted as intentionally Jungian. ' John F.~ Dedek in his Experimental Knowledge of the Indwelling Trinity: an Historica/Study of the Doctrine of St. Thomas (St. Mary of the Lake Seminary Mundelein, Illinois, 1958, pp. 125r142) calls attention to Aquinas' doctrine that.the Christian's knowledge of the Trintiy is quasi The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 811 person, illustrates how this fourth level can be discovered. A woman novice in a religious order located onthe west coast came to a midwest Jesuit University to begin her collegiate studies. Her novice mistress had taken a dislil(e to her, told her that her lack of intelligence would keep her from ever being a useful member of the congregation, succeeded in turning the other novices against her and yet had capriciously admitted her into vows. When ! met this woman, her skin was blotched with anxiety, the doctor had diagnosed stomach ulcers, she herself felt isolated and :depressed~ But she also was convinced that, despite all the sufferings, God wanted her to be a nun. As three years went by, she discovered that she was a straight "A" student, that she had special talents for political science, that she was being accepted by her fellow students and by the nuns with whom she lived, that she could pray. In other words, she found that she had a future, that deep happiness could occur in religious life. As these discoveries slowly permeated her life, the skin-blotches .disap-peared, the ulcers became healed, the sense of alienation was replaced with the warm feeling of being accepted by her religious community. The steady accomplishment felt at the top three levels of her experience now allowed her to experience by contrast a constant uneasiness or lack of peace at her deepest level, the fourth level. During the period of her novitiate experience, she could not be clearly aware of the uneasiness at the fourth level, because it was clouded by all the disturbances at the upper three levels. Only the growing brightness at the top three levels of-her experience during her collegiate days enabled her to appreciate the bl~i9k uneasiness at the deepest level of her being. After a year or so of disc_e~;nment at-this fourth level, she gradually came to acknowledge that the Lord was asking her to leave the religious community and was calling her to another way .of life. She resisted this leave-taking because she had found so much pleasure, joy, fulfillment in her religious com-munity and in her study-work. Finally she accepted God's will and, leaving the congregation, secured a job in Washington as research assistant to a member of Congress who bullied every member of his staff consistently and impartial-ly. The former novice's skin again took on the anxiety blotches, again she was consulting a doctor about stomach pains, again :she felt herself sinking into a dark and angry depression. But to her surprise, at. t.he fourth level of awareness now opened to her by her previous and present experience, she found a constant serenity never before experienced, The Lord was apparently experimentalis, i.e., "knowledge that is joined to charity" (p. 146). But he is unable to determine whether for Aquinas "this knowledge is merely discursive cognition based on signs or rather some kind of immediate or supra-discursive perception of the divine persons." Such knowledge is cer-tainly at the deepest l~vel of man's experience and, according to.the above analysis, is inferential, that is, the person becomes aware by contrasting the top three levels with the fourth level. The cen-tral texts noted in Aquinas by Fr, Dedek are in I Sent., D. 14, q. 2a., and 3; D. 15, Expositio Secundae Patris Textus. Also Sum. Theol. I, q. 43, a.5, ad 2. 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 approving her new way of life. At a great price and with subtle indirectness she had discovered the fourth level of awareness where the Lord calls to her and speaks in her discernment. Among other factors for diagnosing God's will for her, the crucial factor was the continuous uneasiness or the steady Peace at this fourth level. A second quick example illustrates these same points in a less extra-ordinary way. One day in a community corridor I met a fellow Jesuit who had just returned from home. He said to me, "You know my younger sister just died, I discovered two weeks ago that my doctoral thesis of a year's slaving has already been written by a South American, I'm wondering whether I can handle the theology courses scheduled for next year, and I haven't slept more than four hours a night during the last two weeks. But do you know? I must be crazy. Down deep I'm at peace, God loves me and will help me work out these things, I worry at one level of me; but at a deeper level I feel at peace." Could it be that this man is discovering with new clafity 'and enjoying with fuller appreciation the fourth level within his experience--precisely because of the striking contrast between the top three levels of suffering-sorrow and this fourth level of serenity-security? But what is this fourth level so poetically described as the underground river of God within us? First of all, its peace ap-pears to be a sense of God's approval, almost a companioning of the person by God, On the other hand, its uneasiness seems to express God's disapproval which produces an emptiness and loneliness. Secbndly the experience of peace or uneasiness is implicit to the top three levels; that is, it is recognizable by contrast with these levels yet is hidden under and within them. Thirdly, because of its depth and implicitness, this fourth level is difficult to describe directly. Instead, one offers experiential case-histories with the hope that the latter can point within the hearer'sexperience to his or her fourth level. For this reason, too, metaphor ("underlying river of God," "the ocean floor of life-experience" and "the background music of our activity at the top three levels") is employed rather than neat definitions composed of essential char, acteristics or criteria. Fourthly, the peace of the fourth level is marked by a passive alertness to.the top three levels of activity, an intent listening at the fourth level, a sense of not being along, a wi!lingness simply to be and to let be, an expectant openness to all future events. Yet at the same time, this peace permeates, patiently strengthens and lends finer quality to all the activities at the top three levels? What Is Happening at the Fourth Level? Peace. One event of vital importance seems to be happening at the fourth level: peace, a perduring serenity even amid storms at the top three levels. ~ Prayer experience at the fourth level bears a number of resemblances to what Karl Rahner describes as transcendental experience in his Foundations of Christian Faith (Seabury, New York, 1978), pp. 20, 21, 54, 58. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 813~ Once the four levels are distinguished, it becomes clear that the word peace can refer to at least four different states in a person's awareness. At the first level, peace would mean enjoyment of life's little pleasures without its normal irritations. Confer television's beer and cosmetic advertisements for further clarification of this bodily peace. At the second level, peace could well mean a combination of good health, unworried mind and settled emotions. The fisherman, safe from the office telephones and watching the sun rise over water dimpled by surface-fee~ding trout, may well be the symbol of tl~is peace of mind. At the third level, peace may be euphoria, the neatly balanced inner life of felt achievement, of skilled competence, of fully satisfying family life, of pleasant prospect. For examples, look at the All-American father or mother in the Geritol or insurance-annuity advertisements; or, .better, look to the disciplined people who are willing to suffer much for the good of others. This could be called peace of heart. As we have mentioned, the top three level~ of peace, when disturbed, can reveal by contrast the fourth level of peace. Evidently, when one is recollecting himself or sinking into himself to discover his center of being so that he can pray better, he is actually dropping down through the three upper levels of awareness so that he can reach the fourth level where life flows most richly, quietly, serenely. He will note how the peace of this fourth level tends to render peaceful the upper three levels and he will understand better the restlessness of those who appear to have everything but lack peace of being or person. So, h'~ will discover that fourth-level peace is not just the concern of the wise, the religiously inclined~ the fortuna~tely educated; it is the goal and hope of every living person. Indeed, this is precisely what the Taoist, the Buddh.ist, and the transcendental meditator seeks. Yet not all seem to recognize the fourth level cli~arly for what it is: the felt presence of God. And quite a few seem unwilling to pay the price of such .recognition. For the price i~ double: (1) a sometimes painful discerning of ~what factors are operating within the fourth level and (2) for the Christian, the consequent willingness to accept the call of Christ (n6w heard more clearly,) and to respond to it more generously. Let us attempt some exploration of thesetwo points. Discernment. A spate of articles and floods of conversation about discern-ment make it one of the "in" terms. As luck would have'it, the mystery of discernment is not lessened by all this attention. Nor will this article do anything more than try to show where discernment takes place~ To put it starkly, discernment occurs radically at the fourth level.6 What 6 In using the term radical discernment to point to God's approving (peace) or disapproving (uneasiness) movemeni within the fourth level, I do not intend to discount the other convergent factors which go into the full discernment process, e.g., the weighing of reasons pro and con, obe-dience to lawful authority, spiritual direction, the testing of the decision in the actual living of it, use of Scripture, the calibrating of patterns of past behavior and accomplishments (the direction 814/Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 this:statement means become clearer only after one defines the events (or states) of desolation, consolation, depression, and elation. For it would seem that these four states occur only at the upper three levels. In other words, although desolation and consolation are used to read the spirits influencing a person to good or to evil, and although they may well appear to intrude upon the fourth level, still they are quite distinct from a perons's peace or lack of peace at this lowest level. Nor do depression and elation enter the fourth level of man's awareness even though they can obscure the peace or uneasiness of this level. Consolation-Desolation, Elation-Depression. It is necessary to define these four terms experientially in order to understand and to test in one's own awareness the truth of the above statements. First of all, though desolation can cause depression and intermingle with the latter almost inextricably, still desolation is not the psych.ological state of depression. For desolation is induced by the evil spirit, not by the psychological dy~.namisms causing depres-sion such as extreme fatigue, poor self-image, seemihgly depreciatory actions by admired people, neurotic or psychotic impulses, and so on. In addition, desolation has spiritual effects, i.e., those based on faith experience. Thus the person undergoing desolation feels that God igat a cold distance or does not exist at all. This person finds himself convinced that he has no future b~cause he can do no good for. anyone, least of all for the kingdom of Godl He feels totally unloving and unlovable for God and his people. On the other hand, depression is not concerned with faith-o.bjects such as these, but is involved with natural goals and hopes which, however, can be easily entwined with faith objects, e.g., when th~ nun-teacher estimateg that her attempt to write a biology book is being thwarted (depression) by her own lack of competence or (paranoia) by the devious enyy-tactics bf the department chairman so that as a result she cannot Contribute to God's glory and his kingdom. To put all this succinctly, depression paralyzes or weakens the human as human; while desolation freezes or enerx~ates the Christian as Christian. Thus it almost goes without saying that consolation is not elation since of one's life), and so on. But I am saying that in the midst of complex decisions, peace or uneasiness at the fourth lex;el is the predominant factor to be considered. For often enough the reasons pro and con cancel each other out; authority often gives such broad directives that numerous alternatives are left open; spiritual direction can only help the directee discover for himself or herself the peace or uneasiness; testing of the decision in practice can be somewhat ambivalent; use of scriptural prayer is itself tested in terms of consolation and desolation which, in turn, are discerned in terms of peace or uneasiness; patterns of past behavior do not fully account for new demands of life, new turns on the road of life. For more on discernment, confer Karl Rahner's The Dynamic Element in the Church, (Herder and Herder, New York, 1964) Part 111: "'The Logic of Concrete Individual Knowledge in Ignatius Loyola." Thomas M. Gan. non and George W. Traub's The Desert and the City (Macmillan, Toronto, 1969) Chapter VIII: "The Logic of Christian Discernment" says much clearly in short compass. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 815 strengthening consolation ~(as distinct from Satan's eventually debilitating elation) is caused by God, not by such psychological dynamisms as the sense of worked achievement, the feel of competence in skilled activity, the reassurance of someone's deep affection, the hope of career-success, the discovery of one's deepest self. Fo~ consolation, unlike the elation which it can cause and enter, is concerned with faith-effects. That is, God consoles me with the inner faith-vision that he pervades the whole world, with the hope that I can do much for him and his people, with the certainty that I amcapable of deep devotion to the triune God and his people, Briefly, consolation is the state of feeling cl.ose to self, God, and others; just as desolation is the state of feeling isolated from God,. others, and even one s self, Consolation ~s a deep sense of the commu'nion'~of saints because of the felt presence of faith, hope, and charity; while desolation is experience of the utter loneliness of hell. Only God can cause consolatio.n; just as Satan is the sole cause of desolation, a deliberate attack on the three God-given virtues of faith, hope and charity. And both pheno~aeha occuronly at the top three levels of a person's experience- .Dryness in Prayer. Obviously, when consolation and desolation are swinging back and .forth (along with elation and depression) in one's experience, one feels no "dryness in prayer." For this dryness is the state of normalcy, the middle balancing state between the swings of consolation and desolation, of elation and desolation. Indeed, it is the state of~everyday living. Thus, dryness in prayer is not necessarily a sign of God's displeasure. For one cannot undergo the alternations of desolation-consolation or of depression-elation over.long periods of time without becoming exhausted'physically as well as spiritually. There must be periods of so-cailed~dryness if only so that the con-solations and desolations may be felt with refreshed sensitivity. It should be noted here that there is a dryness induced by ungrateful or disloyal actions, by petty selfishness, by clever screening out of spiritual insights which might disturb Complacency. This is when God declines to speak to Us with Consolation lest he seem.to approve our.state, and when Satan does not want to disturb our foolish self-satisfa'ction with desolation. But this dryness of complacency is not the normal dryhess in prayer even though both types of dryness occur within the same top three levels and can intermingle or at least succeed each other This intermingling makes it necessary to enter the fourth level of e~xperi-ence to explain~what normal dryness in prayer is. For underlying this dryness of the top three levels, can be a perduring sense of being right with God, of not being alone, and even of companioning God--despite all one's mistakes, shortcomings, and sin~fulness. This fourth-level, implicit sense of God is itself a prayer of quiet calmness which gives endurance, balance, and centering to all our spiritual living.~ This prayer of trusting expectancy would seem to be the somewhat experiential divine presence of which Aquinas speaks. Here the 816 ./ReviewforReligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 person is, in the words of Hans Urs von Balthasar, "a sustained utterance of prayer.''8 For this reason, such prayer can go on underneath one's fatigue, distractions, deadness of feeling, fitful sexual urges, tightening tensions, twitches and quirks. The quiet, hidden (not explicitly conscious) presence of God is supporting all the events at the tbp three levels of experience as one studies educational theory, works crossword puzzles, sells toothpaste, kisses children goodnight, and argues with one's spouse; This is why the :fourth level of experience can be described as a great underground river which quiets, stabilizes, nourishes, and guides the praying person. It is that which enable us literally to pray always. For, to change the figure, peace of the fourth level is like the quiet background music to all our endeavors on 'the upper levels. Again, this peace is the sense of carrying within oneself the Center of the World and of having nothing to fear (See Rm 8:35-39; I Co 3:21-23). Seeming Dereliction. For these reasons, even a partial obscuring of the fourth level can be a confusing, even an initially frightening, experience. When one'~ sense of the indwelling presence of God seems clouded in some way within the fourth level itself and not merely by desolation or depression at th~ top three levels, one experiences a certain dereliction. One.feels cut adrift, terribly alone, like a solitary canoeist drifting on a great body of night water. For the fourth level contains the center of one's universe, the hope of one's total future, the sourse of one's strength to love when not loved back. Of course, the fourth level of experience is never completely obscured; God is never far away. In fact, our very vulnerability and helplessness prob-ably make us, like the waif, even more appealing to him. Yet because this feel-ing of atheism at the fourth level is often accompanied by a convergence of outside calamities affecting the top three levels (confer the example of the Jesuit mentioned earlier), the suffering is acute. In fact, the sufferer needs the reassurance of spiritual direction as much as the storm-engulfed navigator needs clear sighting on the North Star. Still, in this seemingly total absence of consolation, to say nothing of elation, there perdures the subtle peace of God's presence never doubted even though ba~ely felt. Indeed, after the tem-porary dereliction, one feels more sensitive to peace', more alert to G.od's movements within the fourth l~vel.9 ' A wise and experie~ntial description of prayer amid dryness is Leonard Boase's Prayer of Faith (B. Herder, St. Louis, 1962), especially Chapters IV and V. (Paperback reissue: Our Sunday Visitor Press, Noll Piazza, Huntington, Indiana, 1976, a somewhat rearranged edition). ~ Hans Urs yon Balthasar, Prayer(Paulist Press, New York, 1961), translated byA. V. Littledale, p. 36. (Though not easy reading, this book gives deep understanding of prayer. One of its surpris-ing insights is that "even the dark night of the soul, the total absence of consolation, is a form of consolation" (p. 239). The paradox would seem to be that the ve~:y endurance of desolation with trust and love is itself a type of consolation. , * In his When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, 1979), Thomas H. Green, S.J., has provided an encouraging synthesis of Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Leonard Boasei and The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 817 Levels of Prayer. Consequently, as one sinks down past the first or sensuous level where vocal prayer finds expression, past the second and third levels where meditative and affective prayer predominate, and into the fourth level where prayer of.simplicity (simple being) occurs, the praying person hears more and more clearly the call of Christ within. Here one listens with a deeply passive alertness underneath the swirl of activities on the top three levels.'° Here the God-hunger is never sated; here in faith one feels heard, faced, touched by the Other. From here one responds with a surprising strength and tenderness. For, from here an all-embracing hope reaches up through the top three levels to say: "There will always be someone to serve and to love wherever I go, whomever I meet, whatever be the conditions of myself and others," From here love explodes up through the top three levels in strong generosity: "How can I give joy to my friends, coworkers, people I serve? How can I help each discover his or her deepest value and find this in each other and in Christ?" Thus, at the fourth level one seems to discover the peaceful river of God's mysterious presence, the radical source of discernment underlying consola-tion and desolation, the prayer of quiet calmness underneath the normal dryness of routinized life, the sometime feeling of dereliction when God is Closest, and the source of exuberantly hopeful generosity at the call of Christ. Influence of the Fourth Level on the Top Three Levels Despite its many levels, human experience is a unified focusing on the world, God, and self. So, it is not surprising that the peace of the fourth level percolates up through the upper three levels--with varying results. For example, in flooding up into the top three levels, this peace may make a face radiant, give added physical strength, direct strong emotions into creative activity, lend stable purpose .to one's thinking, imagining, feeling, deciding. Under these conditions even the ordinarily dour person will occasionally appear to be cheerful and rather outgoing. Because joy and lightness of heart are not infrequently a result of this pe~ace, people may rashly judge that a per-son undergoing deep sorrow at the third level is strange because of "his being unmoved, his quiet smile." On the other hand, uneasiness felt at the fourth level can move up and disturb. A person may be fe~eling euphoric at the top three levels and yet expe-the Cloud of Unknowing, within his own experience of prayer and of giving spiritual direction. ¯ Especially helpful are Chapters IV, V, and VI where he imaginatively and succinctly describes the Dark Night of the Senses and the Dark Night of the Soul. ~o M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., works with brilliant clarity at this fourth level in his two articles "Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet" (REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 35, 1976/5, pp. 651-662) and "Progress in Centering Pr~iyer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS, VOI. 38, 1979/6, pp. 833-838). These are complemented by Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., with his "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 37, 1978/1, pp. 10-15). 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 rience a vague restlessness; 'amid continuing success, the man who has everything may feel a sense of incompleteness; within a totally secure situation ("I simply can't lose") a sense of impending chaos sends up ripples of fear from the fourth level. When this happens, people will sometimes~seek to distract themselves from this basic uneasiness. They will overwork., start an unending process of job-jumping, try multiplemarria.ges, haunt psychiatrists, exhaust themselves .on attractive trifles like stamp collecting, golfing, crocheting and televiewing. St. Augustine's description of his ownfascinatio nugacitatis is a case history of one man's twenty-year struggle with constant uneasiness at the fourth level. But if peace from the fourth level is arising within a person's euphoria at the top three levels, it acts as a stabilizing ballast to the ballooning emotions and exuberant activities. For its very perdurance at the depth of one's being gives a sharp sense of the temporariness of success. Indeed, the .implicit awareness of God at the fourth level helps us to feel, as well as to understand, how relative are all events and things compared to the absolute faithfulness of the Lord. In this way, contemplation is permeating not only the top three levels of experience but entering into all the activities issuing from these levels of experience. The duality of contemplation and action is becoming more and more unified as the active person becomes more and more aware of the fourth level of experience. For the prayer of simplicity at the fourth level, in penetrating the top levels of experience, gives a new alertness to God's presence in others, a renewed hope in people's future fidelity, a deeper con-fidence in God's providence. Lastly, it should be mentioned here that the neurotic or psychotic person, if put in touch with the fourth level,, may find a new source of hope. Underneath all the disturbances at the top three levels where the psychiatrist competently works to free his client from constricting fears, is the fourth level where the spiritual director competently tries to help a person interpret God's call. Because these four levels intermingle, both the psychiatrist and the spiritual director must know something of the other's area of competence, must learn to respect each other's discoveries, and must cooperate to help their client accept and live within his limitations. In this way, the neurotic or the psychotic can slowly learn that God will be daily with him, that he can hope against hope without this being just another contradiction, that he is lovable and capable of loving, that, like Theresa of Lisieux, he can become a saint. '~ Four Dimensions of Prayer Experience. Once we have indicated, how the fourth level of awareness intermingles with and influences the other levels, we " In his Storm of Glory (Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1955, Image) John Beevers indicates that Theresa of Lisieux struggled with personality imbalance of a serious nature from her mother's death (Aug. 28, 1877) until her miraculous cure by the Blessed Virgin (May 13, 1883). See pp. 34, 41-43. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 819 are in a position to change the metaphor of "levels" to that of "dimensions" of experience. For human experience is marvelously unified and thus all the levels of awareness do permeate and mutually modify each other in forming a single human consciousness. For example, the fourth level contains the deep root of every prayer. Yet this prayer flowers differently, e.g., into prayer of the feelings and imagination at the third level, into reflective-meditative prayer at'the second level and into vocal prayer (action-prayer) at the first level. This is why these forms of prayer can be equally profound, can succeed each other quickly during a fifteen-minute period of prayer, can support and challenge each other, and can vary in intensity as does conversation between two human beings. This interchange between levels of prayer experience is also the reason why discernment, though founded radically at the fourth level in basic peace or uneasiness, nevertheless also occurs at the third level in the shapes of consola-tion, desolation, obedience, friendship; at the second level in terms of Scrip-ture, historical memories, and reasons pro and con; and even at the first level in the setting of such conditions for discernment as fasting, silence, and mortification. Obviously, then, the presence of God, so intimately and per-duringly active at the fourth level, is not limited to that level of awareness. Consequently, to change the model of explanation from "levels" to "dimensions" is not to deny the distinctions among the four levels and to homogenize their diverse influences on each other. Rather, it is to assert con-comitantly the remarkable unity of a praying person's consciousness. This is to say that all four levels, while remaining distinct, nevertheless are como penetrating and mutually influencing each other like distinct eddies in the single stream of human consciousnesL ,Some Cautions About the Fourth Level Because the above description of the location and the dynamics of the fourth level is rather crude, one must carefully assess one's own experience to see if it somewhat fits this description. One should not be unduly surprised if things are not totally clear. Then, too, one's spiritual director should be con-sulted for the necessary qualifications of the many flat statements made above. At the heart of each person is the deepest mystery and this article can hold only a fitful candle-flame to it. It is hoped that the shifting shadows accompanying such a flame will not obscure the basic contours outlined. For there are many, many layers of experience, and consequently, many, many interpretations of them to be considered. Still, no matter how many levels of experience, there is always the last and deepest level of man's being where union with God is radical.'2 ,2 Would it be outrageous to predict that growing sensitivity to the fourth level of experience will occur through steady practice of the examen of consciousness? 1120 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Further, though God may be most present and most clearly speaking at the so-called fourth level, still he is also present in all the levels above. As a result, it takes some reflective living to distinguish these levels and to calibrate their functions. So I have been warned: "Only veterans of the spiritual life will really understand what you are saying; others will be mystified or will mistakenly think that they understand--with consequent bad results." In response to this, I can only say that the Lord protects those trying to find him and that no one can escape the facing of mystery deep within himself. It seems to me that we are never "safe" with any mystery, never in control, never ade-quately understanding, always searching and groping, always trusting amid our fears. If we must take chances in order to grow, then here would be the best place of all to gamble. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Address R~view for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Journey into Journey--A Reflection Rita Bernard Walton, S.S.J. Sister Rita's last article, "Nomadic Memories," appeared in the January issue, 1978. She resides at St. Charles Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. i was tired, as though at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for I had journeyed into the human condition and had come to the doorway of under-standing that the human condition was so fragile, so delicately beautiful and so unique. I had journeyed and had come to the crossroads of another journey. It was there that I met Jesus in a new and startlingly beautiful way. For many days I had concentrated on the road itself, the dust, the rocks, the potholes, the many trials of faith and trust, the deaths along the way. It was easy to lose sight of the sunshine, even when it was directly overhead, when my mind grappled with the why of human events of suffering and death, events that seemed to crash in, like hurricane winds. Jesus had been my companion on the whole of my'journey, but for awhile I lost full sightoof him as I became enveloped in the dust-cloud of self pity and independence. It was only when I fell, or when I cried out in hurt or pain that my vision cleared enough to allQw me to see that others were just as fragile and beautiful as I, and I saw him in them. Friends tended to my wounds, making his,compassion so real. I continued on my journey, renewed in tasting the empathy that had been portioned out to me. It was when I came to what seemed like the end of my journey, at the crossroads, that my vision cleared in grace and I saw Jesus again. He was standing there right in front of me as though in a line at the bus depot. He was as dusty and worn down at the heels as I was. He had been journeying in the human condition, too. We looked deeply into each other's eyes, feeling recognition flood within as our eyes drank in the sight of the human condition. "I have come to do the will of him who sent me" (see Jn 6:35-40) we both said together, laughing and hugging 821 822./Review for Religious, ~'olume 39, 1980/6 each other as old friends do. Calvary lingered in my bones and memory. We had tasted each other's experience in dialogue often along the way before this. The look in our eyes now spoke more eloquently than words as we recalled our meetings on The Hill. I saw myself reflected in his eyes and came to understand how much he loved so many other fragile creatures like me--enough to die upon that Hill. Suddenly, I saw an endless procession of fragile creatures reflected in his eyes as once again I heard him say: "I have come to do the will of him who sent me. come follow me" (ibid.; Jn 1:43). All through my life I had worked to achieve something and here I was wrapped in the total surprise of being given unconditional love and the knowledge of its depth of meaning, of its desire for response. I felt rooted in time, yet weightless, as my mind and heart saw and felt the others who had responded to his call. I saw Jesus before me gesturing like a white-faced clown who beckons a crowd to come forward. He skipped around gleefully to show the.adventure with him that lay ahead. I felt life and death penetrate me, both at the same time. Self came to life and self died as I stepped forth, lifted by the urgency ofthat leap. I found myself transformed, a new clown among clowns, called to love the human condition. The clowns remind us, with a tear and a smile, that we share the same human weakness. Thus, it is not surprising that, in the:clown, we have a powerful image to help us under-stand the role of, the minister in contemporary society.' I had laughed and cried so often along the way, feeling the human condi-tion fired in my bones, but it was only my own condition that I had felt. I had seen others and so often moved on without feeling. In this leap away from myself I experienced the desire to share in, and feast in the human condition of my brother an~d sister clowns, the soon-to-be Clowns as well as the never-to-be clowns. Jesus had touched my fire-brighted stillness and unharnessed me. I no longer marched in my own parade~ My mind whirled in thoughtful excitement and new comprehension as I" found myself thinking of my Old Testament favorites, friends whose life stories had~ encouraged me to persevere along the way. I laughed when I thought of Abraham. In my own way I understood how he felt having been stirred by Yahweh (Gn 12:1). When Abraham was seventy-five years oid he had an experience 0f God that created a disturbance in the order of his life. Yahweh took possession of him as friend and placed within him the seed for upsetting the known order of the time. Abraham was headed toward a new foundation caused by the deliberate intervention of God into the course of human history. In response, Abraham abandoned his natural roots and "went" (Gn 12:14). Abraham was called to bring life to celebration in know-ing God's affirmation, and he allowed God to alter the course of his life ' Nouwen, Henri J. M., Clowning in Rome, New York, 1979, p. 2-3. Journey into Journey--A Reflection dramatically. His response brought biblical religion to birth. God moved across the existing culture, purified the existing religion and showed himself to be a personal, saving God. Abraham's story is a story of the trials and con-solations he experienced in his need to have faith in the God who called and stirred him. I think Abraham would have made a good clown. His faith touched me as I reflected on his journey into a new land. I, too, was journeying in a new land and realized that love had placed within me, also, the seed for upsetting my known order of time. Jesus had intervened in the course of my human history and created a disturbance in the order of my life with his call to follow him. He walked on my sand and seeded the field of me. He called me friend, beloved; and I felt his warmth. I was unbirthed, in labor to be born, wrapped in silent wonder, wrapped in warmth, encased, ensacked in womb-like nurturing, waiting to become more of who I am. I was born and aging, greying, daily dying, stepping slower, encased, ensacked in tomb-like mystery, waiting to become more ofwho I am. I was spiraling unborn to birth, spiraling birthed to dying, going both ways--to life, to death-- like the seed, dying to be alive. Quantum leap, broken shell, o rising beauty from out of clay, reaching upwards to the Son; I felt the warmth of him who enters and transforms in utter silence and mystery. His warmth pulled my roots down into the numerous sands of time. His warmth pulled my beauty up into the spiraling newness of his life. Ah, the wonder of it all. I was 894 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 nurturing the mystery of God in me, waiting for the moment to be more of who I am. I had journeyed into the human condition and found the footprints of those who had been there before me. I had cried out from my own slavery that held me deep within my selfishness. I had longed for a new freedom. My Lord, I ask you' to lure me once more and lead me out into the wilderness and speak to my heart. Give me back the vineyards of your love and make my troubled valley a gateway of hope. Show me how to respond to you as I did when I was young, as I did when I came out of the Egypt of sin and into the land of freedom in your love. When that day comes, teach me again how to call you "my husband" and no longer let me call you "distant Lord." Take the names of sin off my lips; let them never be uttered again. When that day comes make a treaty for me with all that is wild in me. Break up the battle in me and make my sleep secure. Betroth me to yourself forever, betroth me with integrity and justice, betroth me with tenderness and love. Betroth me to you with faithfulness so I may come to know you. (see Ho 2:16-22) The Lord put Moses before me for reflection. He marks a turning point in salvation history and is a promise, an expectation for the future (Dt 18:15). Moses' journey with God took him to.the edge of fulfillment. He was deprived of the joy of entering the Promised Land in this life. His glance across the Promised Land accepted ownership of it for his people and it climaxed his ministry to them. His glance thrust us forward as a people of God. Glances along my journey, glimpses of future freedoms thrust me forward, too, and helped form me along the way. My living-dying-living is an exodus event that I continue to celebrate in my covenant with God in grace. I had to learn, as did Moses and the Israelites, to live with confidence in God. God wished me, too, to be content with him. Though he provided much manna, he continued to call to a deeper surrender, to total reliance (Dt 8:2-3). Exodus became a present :reality in the celebration of Eucharist. My "daily bread experience" called me to come out of my self-will slavery into the freedom of surrendering my needs to my Provider. I began to learn to live Journey into Journey--A Reflection / ~125 without the securities and comforts that had been baals along the way. He gave to me in "miraculous measure" (see Ex 16:14-31, 17:6) to increase my faith in order to conquer temptations and survive the desert trials. I began to realize that my whole life was dependent upon his sovereign grace and prom-ise. I felt the trust formed within me asI came to a new life, became a truer person, nourished and brought into covenant. My gratitude and trust found expression in the celebration of the Eucharist and in the ways I began to live with others. His all-the-time presence which had cut into my life, became a deeper experience of presence. This "peak:' experience left its mark on me and continues to call me into wonder and celebration and into deeper exami-nation of the heart of my being. I found that I was interacting with the extra-ordinary love of God. Justice, equity and charity e.ntered a new depth within me. "The wages of a day laborer are to be paid before the day is over, before sundown of the day itself, since he is poor and looks forward to them" (Dt 24:15). This thought brought affirmation alive in me. To pay my brothers and sisters their due ,wages before the sun goes down, to affirm them for who they are, for what they do, was to help me to live in sacred truce with my God and with each one of them. Affirmation makes me lovable. God affirmed me by my creation, by my calling to be more along the journey. Affirmation enriched community liv-ing and spilled out over into liturgy where the heart of affirmation comes to a depth of appreciation around the table of the Lord. I had journeyed into the human condition and learned affirmation from God's presence to Abraham, to Moses in the desert, and with me in the desert night into which he had invited me. I realized that finally My self-will cocoon had worn thin. It had cracked. The long hours of darkness and death-like sleep were at an end. A new awaking had flashed through my being, and I felt the pulsation of new life in the deep recesses of my unknown self. I felt my weakness, fragileness, and the limited space this life permits; but I had come to know the unbounded space of time that my Creator has. I felt a flutter in my new wings, faith sustained and overcame the fear of being lifted by the gentle breeze that warmed my wings and lifted them to the sun and sky. There ffere flashes of color and shapes of hope I had never seen before. They surrounded me and formed a world of trust that enhanced the colors I, too, had been gifted with. Wings and color, 826 / Review for fleligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 warmth and sun, gentle .breeze and cracked cocoon, --a new world, a new pulsation of life, and surrender, amen, your will be done. . and I was born, and borne aloft to him on the wings of love. Silence, burst of sound. Darkness, flash of light. " Once entombed, now unwombed, made real. Made real and set free, set free in the desert castle of life, sparked by the Flame of Love, enveloped by the Cloud of the Spirit, held only by the Song of Mortalness and the time to sing it in joy. I was made real, with what was real gone. I no longer fit into the crevices of the past nor in the ways of yesterday. I couldn't speak to yesterday as once I did. I tried and laughter faded, while puzzles formed and pain stood up. Yesterday and I were no longer one, and I had to trust that wings and colors would speak for themselves, that pains would be salved by the Son for I could not fold my wings to return to the cocoon of yesterday. A new form of life was presented io me in my quantum leap; for it to remain effective I knew I had to relate to and affect the world where I lived. I had to examine what would guide and support, my internal strength during my period of adjustment~ I was. on journey with a definite purpose, to keep cove-nant with my beloved God. I knew my quantum leap was a "peak" moment to recall and bring to celebration. I knew that I had to celebrate.by living fully alive, deeply in tune and in harmony with the life that surrounded me. God had funneled me down through many generations of people and I had to live as an important part of the whole production of life. I realized that Jesus held the promise of life. He set me free from sin and death through the sorrow and joy of the cross. Faith and trust had to stay alive in me and come to external expression in the celebration of life. Jesus had drawn me close and changed the structure of my existence. I became aware of his wanting my total dependence, a dependence of love, a life of daily living- " dying-living in the internal martyrdom of the consuming fire of love. I felt like bread dough that had become leavened and I was rising to the proportion that Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 827 he had measured out for me. He asked only for love. His was the action which created laughter within me, a love that reflected itself in a deeper sense of peace and joy. I was given a new identity in living a deeper form of covenant love. I was being built and structured into a new expression of love that gentles, purifies and strengthens as it sets the soul aflame with the desire to serve and love in total unity of mind, heart, and will. Nothing seemed dif-ferent, yet everything was different, is different. There is a new beauty in the air, in the pulsation of life and in silence which is an alive silence filled with wonder. In the silence of wonder I found and. still find my attitudes under reform. My wildness is being consumed further. The cry of the poor wants to be heard; and Jesus asks for a compassionate friend to respond to the cry of pain, of loneliness, of suffering that is crying out from members of his bruised body. In my meeting with Jesus at the crossroads of my journey, in the quan-tum leap of faith, in exodus from self, Jesus had blessed me--blessed me as poor. He brought me to the beautiful awareness of the fragileness of the human condition we all share. In union with him in the blessed poverty of dependence I am learning to share his love-gift. His living word gives me courage and encouragement. I hear him say: You are poor, and I have need of your povertyr your dependence on Me, Blessed are ihe poor in spirit; the kingdom o'f heaven is theirs (Mr 5:3). Your Father, who sees all that is done in secret, will reward you (Mt 6:6). You are poor, and I have need of your poverty to fill the hungry with good things and to give dessert to the poorest poor who are filled even with the crumbs of things, and the little that the poor can share. You are poor. Come! I know the plans .I have in mind for you. Plans for you to seek me with all your heart (Jr 29:11-14), for you are poor with need to find me, with need to listen so to listen to the poor and the poorer-- with a heart's care. 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 You are poor. The Plan I have for you is poor, a foolish plan, a prophet's plan. ¯ Console my people, console them (Is 40:1). Go now to those to whom I send you. and say whatever I command you (Jr 1:7). Do not be afraid, for I am with you (Is 43:5). I have called you- pool', I will be with you--poor, passing through the sea.--poor, walking through fire~ poor, you are precious in my eyes--poor, you are honored--poor, and I love you--poor. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given reward. You are poor . Come! I lead you with reins of kindness, With leading strings of love (Ho 11:4), for you are poor with need to be fed, with need to be led-- so to, lead, for it is only the led who become those who lead. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty; for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given rewhrd You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! I shall feed you in good pasturage. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 829 You will rest in good grazing ground. I will show you where to rest (Ezk 35:14-16) Come! Come to feed the rich who fatten on the spoils of greed. Come! Come to look with me for the lost one, the stray one, the wounded one. Come! Be a true shepherd to them. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father who sees. Who sees that you are poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. I have need for your spirit to be poor, poor enough to be sustained only on manna, on quail, on water, from rock (Ex 16), poor enough to be sustained on providence, the sustenance of the poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! Show the anawim the manna for thb seventh day so they may gather and share what few omers they need (Ex 16:23). Bring forward the people tha~t is blind, yet has eyes, that is deaf and yet has ears (Is 43:~). They are poor and in need of your poverty. Your poverty-- my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Sing a new hymn! Let praise resound from the ends of the earth, Let the sea sing praise, 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Let the deserts and the cities raise voice! (Is 42:10-11). Your poverty--my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Come to the water, thirsty as you are; and though you have no money, come! I make no charge for corn, for wine, for milk. I make no charge for satisfying bread (Is 55:1-3). Come! Give your attention, listen! I know theplans I have in mindforyou (Jr 29:1 l). Come! Come to covenant (Is 55:4). you are poor. Your poverty--my song. My words do not return to me empty. They water the earth. They give growth and seed (Is 55). --seed for the poor. Your poverty--my song. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father, who sees . . and he took pity on them. (Mk 6:34). He took the five loaves and the two fish. (v. 41). They all ate., and (v. 42) They collected the scraps remaining, twelve baskets full (Mt 14:20). Come! You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. In grace and love I respond: Let what you have said be done to me (Lk 1:38). I am poor, ° and I have need of your song. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 831 It took many years to form Israel as a people:. It takes us years to be formed as his beloved. We each experience our own Exodus, Covenant, Tran-sition, and Celebration through many times of stepping but of chronolo.gical time into kyriological moments. So, come! I was tired, as though ~at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for 1 had journeyed into the human condition to find that the next stage of the journey was just beginning. I have joyfully met you along the way. Come! O God, in mercy bless us; let your face beam with joy as you look down on us. Send us around the world with the news of your saving power and your eternal plan for all people. How everyone throughout the earth will praise you! (Ps 67:1-3, adapted The Way). An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Developmental Stages and the Contemporary Male Novice Jonathan Foster, O.F.M. Father Jonathan is Director of Continuing Education for the Chicago-St. Louis Province of Franciscans. He holds a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago in Adult Education and Develop-ment. His present address is Office of Continuing Education; 3400 St. Paschal Drive; Oak Brook, IL 60521. Writing an article such as this is a precarious business. The study of adult development stages is of fairly recent origin in the empirical sciences. There is some very interesting theory (Erikson, 1963, 1964; Kohlberg, 1968; Levinson, 1978; Fowler, 1978; Vaiilant, 1977), but not an abundance of evidence. Moreover, what theory and evidence exist leave us with no clearcut delimita-tion of such stages. One prominent developmentalist (Neugarten) has in fact stated that all we know is that there is some development in adults. Its precise staging is by no means widely accepted. An article such as this is also precarious because of the subject of interest: novices. They comprise no one adult developmental stage. In recent years in my own community, the age range has run from twenty-two to fifty. To treat them all as "young adults" is obviously to allow some of them to fall through the cracks, or, if you will, off the end. Nevertheless, I will attempt to make some sense out of the evidence we have to date, and apply this to a reasonable estimate of what a novice is. I take the age of a typical novice from our Vocation Center's projection of the next few classes currently in pre-novitiate programs for our province. According to this projection, the age of most novices in the immediate future will fall between twenty-two and twenty-eight. There will certainly be a few older than this. But it is not likely, in view. of current policies, that there will be any younger. The observations I will make here will concern the generality of 832 Developmental Stages / 883 young American adults, from whose company we can assume most novices come. According to Levinson (1978), the essential task of the young adult is to separate himself .from emotional dependence on his family and the social structure from which he comes-- not thesame, it should be noted, as destroy-ing his roots. He does this by exploring different possibilities for making his life and creating a stable life structure in which to live out whatever this separation has led him to. Both elements, exploration and stabilization, need equal attention during this period. In one way or another, ehch of the stages we shall look at attempt to deal with this dynamic. The Developmental Task: Identity and Dream Formation I am treating these two stages as one because of their intimate connection with each other. By identity I mean the ability of the individual to see himself as essentially the same person as he passes through the many, even profound, changes of his life. The first great change in a person's life is the traumatic passage from adolescence to adulthood with all the separation and newness it brings with it. The achievement of identity is not so much the search for something new and frustratingly elusive as it is the maintenance and building of a "unique and reasonably coherent whole".(Erikson, 1968), something that holds together and remains ultimately the same despite the shock of change, and the addition of the new. In other words, "identity" is not exclu-sively drawn from within. It is built on a given reality growing out of the experience of community, persons, the historical times, and especially at this age, out of ideology. Ideology is a vision according to which the individual wants to live. Identity in this ideological sense moves into dream formation, a concep-tion of life that the individual picks oi~t as most suitable to his personality. Identity is thus not a mere summation of all experiences a young man has. It is the process by which he tries to integrate what he already knows about himself with elements of experience that seem to promise him a vision and purpose by which he can live and give meaning to life. In this process he must perceive himself as at core unchanged. The question he must answer at this stage of life is simply, "Do I fit with this dream?" Several elements go into the achieving of this identity. One of the principal catalysts is the attraction of a strong ideological system, such as, for example, the Franciscan way of life. This is the "dream." It may stem from a purely ideological contact with St. Francis. But it does not become a real and viable dream until it is experienced in a vital institutional reality, and in attractive personalities living it out. In accepting and trying out the "lived dream," it is especially important that there be at least one special person who embodies that dream, and inter-prets it to the new aspirant in a way that has personal significance to him. This 834 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 is the mentor so often spoken of today. He is not typically a hcro at a distance--though this is possible--but, in our context, a committed religious who shares the younger religious' visionandwho pays special attention to the latter's apprenticeship in that vision. The first reality is probab!y of more significance to older communities with well-known and charismatic founders. We find it particularly so in the Franciscan order, whose founder is one of the most popular and attractive men in history. The problem is this, that today, to a far greater extent than in earlier years, young men are attracted to the Franciscan order precisely by the dream, with relatively less experience of those who profess to embody it. Up to fifteen years ago, most aspirants came to the order out 6f heavily Franciscan contexts, attracted, not by the historical vision of St. Francis--of which they had but a dim view--but by the actual way in which Franciscan priests and brothers lived their own vision of religious life, or by a traditional piety which was, upon close examination, barely distinguishable from that of any other religious order. The dream that attracts candidates today, however, is more often.in touch with the historical view. Candidates thus are more likely to be confused and puzzled by their encounter with many friars who entered the order out of con-tact with Franciscans, not St. Francis, and who may seem, therefore, to the candidate to have rationalized the historical "dream" away. It creates in him, moreover, great insecurities that perhaps his vision is not a real one, or that "those who count" may not view his "dream" as an acceptable version of the Franciscan vision. It is for this reason, once more, that the mentor is extremely important to the young religious, to reassure him--perhaps even to play the advocate before "those who count." In this connection, it seems desirable that the place where novices live should not feature a uniform view of the particular order's "dream." Both staff and community should display some diversity in interpretation of that "dream." Thus both mentor and community can at once challenge and support the candidate's perception of the "dream." Another identity-related problem with this age-group is the prolongation of the moratorium (Erikson, 1963). This is a period of life, usually beginning with adolescence and lasting an indeterminate period (often well into the mid-twenties), in which an individual, committed to nothing, explores and plays with a variety of possibilities or dreams. This is an entirely legitimate develop-ment, perhaps one that many of us never fully undertook. Ideally, it ought to be completed by the time of entry into novitiate, but in today's society, which increasingly delays adulthood, it is not at all unlikely that a candidate will try novitiate with the same degree of uncommittedness as he might hax~e tried being a cowboy in the nineteenth century. Novitiate, it seems, implies some degree of commitment to the dream, and"should not be 'viewed as a moratorium experience. A third problem is that young adults at the "identity-dream formation" Developmental Stages / 835 stage are given to caricaturization. In an attempt to make the dream fit, and fit so securely as to cover all aspects of the aspirant's reality, he tends to see it in terms of black and white. Consequently, he tends to portray his chosen dream somewhat unrealistically, and even to be intolerant of other dreams. The attraction of young people to an oversimplified view of life and reality is well known, and applies just as much to novices in religious orders. Kohibert (1968) and Fowler (1978) have both pointed out that people at this stage of development make moral and religious judgments primarily in terms of their commitment to a particular group of people or an institution which they see as embodying their dream. This is distinct from making judgments in terms of abstract principles applicable to one~'.s own group as well as others. Such a development is perhaps natural and necessary. However, the activity of an overzealous or overly charismatic director--or indeed mentor--can play directly into this .,caricaturizing tendency and allow it to sharpen into a dangerously unrealistic view of life. A further problem is that powerful religious conversions sometimes occur at this stage. Individuals allow themselves to be so overwhelmed by a vision or dream .that they cease to see continuity between what they were before the conversion and what they see themselves to have become because of the conversion. Indeed often they do not want to see the continuity. Such conver-sions, apart from rare cases, are obviously disruptive to the developmental process of identity formation. Of some interest to directors of a novitiate, which, ambng other things, is a time of an intense and unremitting daily round of organized prayer, is the attitude of young adults towards organized religiosity. It is in the latter phases of identity formation that participation in formal religious practice is typically at its very lowest ebb. This usually reflects the individual's attempt to separate himself from dependence on his family and culture, including the religious structure bound up with that. The fact is that it is precisely in the novitiate year that aspiring religious are subjected to the most intense exposure to formal religiosity they will perhaps ever know, and this may rub a bit excessively against the developmental grain. Some caution must be urged, too, concerning the possibilities of contem-plation at this stage. True religious contemplation--by means of which the individual, while retaining his identity, is drawn out of himself into union with God--is objectively oriented. It assumes some stable sense of identity. It is for this reason that religious contemplation is not normally found in young adults and most often flourishes in the more contented self-acceptance of mature adulthood. What passes for contemplation among the young is more typically a preoccupation with the achieving of identity than the handing over of this identity into union with God. The young adult is by developmental necessity more self-centered, indeed self-absorbed, than other-centered. Novitiate directors need to keep this in mind when inculcating habits of prayer and contemplation. To speak of the novitiate as a "year of contemplation" 8:36 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 can be misleading, and even, in terms of what both novices and their directors expect to happen, damaging. The Developmental Task: Intimacy Intimacy is basically the task of learning to establish close relationships with others, to respect human beings as ends, not mere means, of learning to communicate. It is a form of love, and it is the love that characterizes persons at this age. Erikson (1964) distinguishes this love of Relationship from the love of Care that is characteristic of the more mature adult. The task of intimacy may be described as one of the major tests of a person's identity. If this identity is'securely in hand, then one is capable of risking it in relationship, and indeed must do so. If the identity is not secure, intimacy is more difficult to achieve and is often avoided or at least sim~ated. Most young people, however, make serious forays into intimate or quasi-intimate relationships at this stage. Intimacy is indeed the task that marriage at this age seeks to accomplish. The relationship is not, however, exclusively heterosexual, although this is the typical form it takes. Erikson (1964), in a phrase reminiscent of St. Francis of Assisi who urged his brothers to exercise a mother's love for their confreres, wrote that intimacy also happens when "young adults become sons of each other." The failure to achieve intimacy results to some degree or other in isolation, the inability to relate deeply. A number of structures will be important in a novitiate to enable the process of intimacy achievement to go forward. Obviously, there must be opportunities for the development of friendships, including friendships with women. Some friendship will be available within the community, but since friendship-making is highly selective, this may not always be the case. With the smaller novitiate classes prevalent today, making intimate friendships has become more difficult. Larger classes make such relationships more possible. Smaller numbers limit the possibility. Given these smaller numbers, the importance of locating the novitiate in a community which includes a substan: tial number of other religious seems important. For this reason, close friend-ships outside the novitiate community cannot be excluded either. Hence the advisability of allowing, indeed encouraging, other forms of maintaining friendship contact: visits, correspondence, telephones. The mentor is very important to this task. The mentor-relationship is an intimate one when it is exercised in spiritual direction, confession, or simple friendship. There is indeed a case to be made (Levinson, 1978) for the "Special Woman" as mentor to the young male adult. In this relationship, intimacy expands easily into a heterosexuality which is less threatening to the celibacy aspect of the dream. A lived brotherhood is important for the young adult. Not only does it increase the likelihood of selective friendship, but failing this, still allows for a considerable amount of sharing at a deeper level. In this respect, the current emphasis in most orders on brotherhood or community is an especially attrac- Developmental Stages / 837 tive aspect of/he dream for young men. The achievement of intimacy in an all-male structure presents special problems. Women, in such situations, tend to get caricaturized. They may be over-romanticized as indispensable partners in the life-journey. They may be feared as a threat to the dream. Or they may be ridiculed as a result of a cultural residue of male chauvinism, a position unfortunately supported by a large segment of the male ecclesiastical establishment. Hence, it is important that novices have an on-going encounter with women their own age, such as for example the inter-novitiate program in the Chicago area where novices from several different communities of men and women meet weekly for study, prayer and informal interaction. However, it is also interesting to note that, even in the larger world, many men get so caught up in their dream, or their career, that women do not romantically interest them at this stage. This may very well describe the situa-tion of the modern novice, as we shall note when we discuss career consolida-tion below. What frequently happens, however, is that once they reach the thirties, some of that pressure lifts, and the quest for intimacy with women starts anew, including a deep interest in marriage. Homosexuality is a form of intimacy, and is, of course, always a problem in the all-male society. This is more true today when there has been some social legitimation of the homosexual friendship. There is simply no way of avoiding this possibility, and directors should understand that an occasional homosexual encounter neither automatically implies homosexuality nor is necessarily grounds for expulsion. Finally, the concern for intimacy explains in part the young religious' preference for one-to-one ministries over the ministries involving administra-tion, leadership and social change. It is the need for people in his life. Developmental Stage: Career Consolidation Vaillant (1977) points out that an intermediary stage occurs between Erikson's stages of Intimacy and Generativity, one that Erikson did not fully consider. This is the stage at which the young adult becomes preoccupied with establishing work skills and climbing the career ladder. It begins in the twen-ties, and lasts usually throughout most of the thirties. What is important about this period is the mastery of a craft, the seeking of approval for one's work and achievements, the thrust of ambition, the excitement of developing a career, the sheer pleasure of work and success. It is a time when the vividness of the dream recedes, and the individual focuses rather on the work associated with the dream. The role of the mentor also declines. Thus, what guides the young adult at this stage is neither parent, mentor, nor even dream. It is the satisfaction of the work itself. What happens at this stage may very well be the triumph of the larger society's "Dream" in the individual, the American Dream of Success and Achievement. Certain it is that American society strongly rewards work, achievement and success. It is not surprising that the 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 career-consolidation stage is accompanied to a large extent by the decline of the intense inner life that characterized the stages of Dream Formation and Intimacy. Given the increasing number of older candidates entering religious life, especially those already committed to or having just finished intensive preparation for professional careers, it is important that directors be aware of this dynamism. To the extent that this development stage is at work, the novice must have opportunities to exercise his competence, not, perhaps, in his chosen career, but at least in some area of novitiate life. This means that he shall have to be given some area of responsibility that is more than sweeping a corridor~ He must, moreover, be constantly able to exercise at least the basic tools of all work-competence: the hands, the mind, the imagination," and judgment-making that has consequences. The larger question may be to what extent this professional training and competence already acquired may have on the novitiate experience. Such training and competence may have achieved apart from the dream formation which the novitiate agenda is all about. It may even be somewhat separate from-- even in conflict with -- that dream. Yet it usual-ly has brought continued rewards and satisfaction so necessary at this stage of life. It is not clear to me how a novitiate experience handles such a conflict. But for a novitiate director to simply ignore this previous experience does not seem to me to constitute a reasonable response. These, then, are the stages of development likely to be encountered in a given novitiate class. Because of their fluidity and because of the individuality with which each person passes through them, they are perhaps useful more as mind-sets by the director than as the basis for actual guidelines. Three recom-mendations emerge strongly from their consideration, however. The first is the necessity to view a novitiate as a highly individualized experience. Not a solitary experience, but one which a group of young men move through together, each following to whatever extent necessary his own individual track. Obviously, Group Spiritual Direction is no substitute for individual attention. Which leads to the second recommendation, the need for mentors. Whether this role is carried out by the director, his associate, a chosen spiritual director, or another member of the religious community, its impor-tance is critical. Finally, given the social context of Identity/Dream Forma-tion and Intimacy, it seems important that the novitiate be not a sequestered experience. A director and his novices should not go off to the woods by themselves for a year. They should live in an extensive friar community and they should be in regular, on-going contact with the community-dream-- manifested certainly in its documents, but even more so by regular in-depth contact with the people who incarnate that dream in their lives. Yes Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen is a staff member of the newly erected Dutch Center of Spirituality Om Vuur; Twelloseweg 5; 7419 BJ Deventer, The Netherlands. This article is a chapter from his forthcoming book, Certain as the Dawn, scheduled for publication by Dimension Books (Denville, N J) in the fall of 1980. doration always implies surrender, a fiat. In fact adoration is a surrender of our whole being, a dedication of all our affection, a gift of every minute of our time. Adoration has to be lived; it commands a life-style. Since adoration is the ultimate, it includes everythir~g. Adoration is a Yes, expressed with or without words during prayer, but then lived every single moment of the day and of the night. Being the ultimate, adoration also provides perspective to all that precedes; the total Yes injects meaning into everything that is encom-passed by it. Three concise lines which Dag HammarskjOld wrote in his diary in March 1956, some five years before his tragic death, offer a framework for a meditafibn on Yes. You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning. You repeat your Yes--and all things acquire a meaning. When everything has a meaning, how can you live anything but a Yes!~ You Dare Your Yesmand Experience a Meaning "Yes" is a daring word: it implies arisk and requires courage. It means a leaving behind in order to move ahead. We leave behind what is certain and we ventureinto the unknown. We give up what has become dear and proceed as a ' Dag HammarskjOld, Markings, transl, by Leif SjOberg and W. H. Auden (London, Faber & Faber), p. 110. 839 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 free person without looking back. "None of you can be my disciple if he does not renounce all his possessions (Lk 14:33). "Whoever puts his hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God" (Lk 9:62). It can be very hard to really say good-bye. A famous French proverb claims it is mourir un peu, a little, dying. It means farewell to people and to things to which we are far more attached than we realized. We give to the people with whom we live and we take from them. Somehow we are more aware of the sacrificing during the actual process, while the receiving becomes more manifest after it has stopped. It is like the various organs of the body which we easily take for granted as long as they function well, whereas we learn to appre.ciate them most when ill. It is only in the concrete leaving that we find out how dependent we are on the things we have collected during the years, how we have become entangled in the small world of our hands, our minds, our hearts. We have developed our own ways of enjoying and asserting ourselves in that small world, even to the point of imposing it on others. We have learned to manage in it. To leave means to cut the ego. That is one reason why we shrink from giving up the past. Being human is essentially living in an exodus-situation. Leaving is part of life. We have to ready ourselves in many .minor rehearsals for the final farewell which is the only absolute certainty of everybody's life. Apart from God, everything in life is transitory: everything biological, social, political, intellectual, etc. The refusal to accept this passing quality of life causes stunted growth, induration, and in extreme cases, neurosis. The early Chris-tians sometimes called their faith "The Way." God is always greater; he keeps us continually on the move. "Here we have no lasting city; we are seeking one which is to come" (Heb 13:14). Jesus stressed that the kingdom of God re-quires the Gift of self: "Whoever would save his life will lose it, whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). The giving up of oneself in this life is not done once and for all; it is an ever-growing gift of self and demands an increasing willingness to sacrifice. To leave people and things behind does not mark the end; rather it opens up a new beginning in a wider context. The severing of the umbilical cord introduces the baby into the family; the leaving of the family's security challenges the adolescent to venture into a big world; the renouncing which Jesus demands leads us into the kingdom of God. The pruning is for increas-ing the yield. The Father is glorified in our bearing much fruit. It is not the stripped, stifled, petty life that honors him, but the life which surges to the full. Jesus leads the way. This man-for-others appeals. The reflection of his intimacy with his Father intrigues and invites us. He calls us to follow. We do not know where his way will lead us, but we do have an intuition that it will transform us for the better. If our hearts are cluttered with houses or land, relatives or friends, job or hobby, he is going to set us free so that we can go forward. All that remains will be love--serving God and serving people. The Yes is particularly scary because it is so personal. It affects the deepest 841 in me, where I am most myself. There exists no mold for it. It is my yes, such as no one before me has ever said and in which no one can really accompany me. The Yes condenses my whole self. I have 'to descend into the depths of my self in order to perform the act of my life. The person who wants always to be upheld by others could never go that far. Yet in saying Yes, there is a solidarity with others which gives strength and inspiration. The community of all those who spoke their Yes gives us support. Outstanding is the help of Mary who is an immaculate Yes, a simple fiat. Above all, her Son in his absolutely unambiguous and unrestricted Yes, enables us to dare our Yes: "Jesus Christ. was not alternately 'yes' and 'no'; he was never anything but 'yes.' Whatever promises God had made have been fulfilled in him; therefore it is through him that we address our Amen to God." (2 Co 1:19-20). Nevertheless it remains an adventure to follow Jesus in his Yes. It entails giving up tangible security and the felt affirmation by others. It is an act of faith. "Yes" is a word of freedom; to be authentic it can never be forced. Ultimately it can be said only to a person, not to a thing or an institution. The German author Giinther Grass once wrote an enigmatic little "poem" to which he gave the title "Yes." This house has two exits; I use the third one. Between Anne and Anne, I choose for Anne. The interpretation is said2 to be that both exits of the house lead into meaning-lessness which G~nther Grass rejects. The third exit is not something but someone: Anne. Between Anne the saint and Anne the sinner, between Anne the beautiful and Anne the unattractive, the poet chooses the actual Anne, and through her finds life meaningful. His yes to the real Anne saves him from the existentialist void. Grass' poetic riddle rhymes well with HammarskjOld's clear entry: "You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning." Meaning implies more than an intellectual conviction; it comprehends the whole of life. True meaning is beyond success or failure. The Way leads to the wisdom of the cross; this is a disaster which is a triumph, and a victory which is a catastrophe. The paschal mystery unites the horror of the crucifixion and the glory of the resurrection. The folly of the cross reveals the ultimate mean-ing. The following of Jesus leads beyond the antithesis of humiliation and elevation. The Way leads into a new realm of life where old values acquire a new perspective and where what used to be considered meaningless shows an unexpected significance. Therefore it provides a tremendous strength for making sacrifices. As long as we count the cost, seek our own comfort, fight for our position or strive for recognition we have not yet said a whole-hearted gsef Sudbrack, S.J., in Geist und Leben 48, October 1974, pp. 346-347. 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Yes nor experienced the true meaning of life. You Repeat~Your Yes--and All Things Acquire a Meaning It is not enough to say Yes just once, It has to,be repeated over and over again. We have to set out on a way and we have to carry on step by step. Our Yes is a growing reality; the further we go, the deeper and richer its content. The resistance, of course, is always there. We do not want to reiterate it in ever new circumstances. We find ourselves, like Jacob, resisting the angel of Yahweh (Gn 32:23~33). During the night Jacob crosses the ford of the Jabbok and untildaybreak he wrestles with aman whom he does not know is a divine messenger. At the end of his fight he asks for the stranger's blessing. He then receives a new name, Israel, meaning "you contehded with divine beings." In his struggle against God he becomes injured and keeps on limping. It is a strange, but .typical story. How difficult to recognize God in his numerous disguises. How easy to consider him a threat to be fought. How often is our encounter with God, before it becomes a bow to receive his blessing, first a long, dark ~resistance. How much harm do we inflict on ourselves in that opposition. Every refusal to repeat our Yes does harm to our personality; it stifles our growth, eats out our joy and reduces the meaningfulness of our life. What follows are self-concern, grudges, resentment, compensations, addic-tions of all kinds, polarization which we stretch too far, fencing in against other people. The half-hearted Yes creates impaired persons, very much unlike the kind God wants us to be. "I know your deeds; I know you are neither hot nor cold. How I wish you were one or the other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rv 3:15-16). The Yes has to be repeated so often that it includes everything in the past, in the present and in the future. As long as there is something in my past which I reject, there is still a screen in me that pr~events my being transparent. That which I repress or resent splits my inner self, or becomes a heavy chain I drag along behind me. It may take time to really accept the suffering or the failure that came to me, maybe long ago, but it is vital that I do accept it. The Yes can create a meaning where first there was none. The repeated Yes will become more mature, more profound, more silent, and eventually it will extract light from the dark, radiance from, the cross. "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who have been called according to his decree" (Rm 8:28). To say Yes is to accept the present. It means to acknowledge gratefully the talents and the possibilities I have without thinking that all of them have to be realized. It means to accept my limitations in health, education, character, etc., while at thesame time trying to overcome them. It means to transform gently weaknesses into strength, innate temptations into grace, given potential into a ripe harvest. It means to say Yes to the lives of others and to give them the room and the sympathy they need. It means to accept the situation I am in, Yes / 843 and myself in that situation. To repeat my Yes will lead to self-acceptance which in turn, will make everything else meaningful. It is obvious of course, that the Yes is not identical with a limp settling for anything, neglecting all attempts to improve things. The opposite is true: it is only by accepting them that things can be improved. No effort born of anger, impatience or resentment will bear fruit. An example may illustrate this point. Suppose the parents of a stuttering boy have great difficulty in accepting /he child's handicap. Whenever he stammers, they harshly make him repeat his words. One evening the parents discuss the situation. They both had noticed that the stuttering was becoming worse and they begin to see that the pressure they put on the boy may have something to do with it. So they decid~ to make no more remarks when the child stammers. Both father and mother manage to live up to their resolution, and yet they find that the speech handi-cap is becoming still worse. After some time, they talk things over once more and discover that, in their first discussion, they had changed only their policy, their external approach, but not their interior attitude. They had stopped scolding all right, but they still resented the stuttering. The boy was no longer being reprimanded, but he still felt the pressure of disappointing his parents. At this :pOint the parents break through to a new mentality and accept the boy as he is, with his stuttering. The paradox is that from now onward, the child can slowly improve in his speech because he no longer has to. This is a real paradox: as long as the parents resentfully demanded it, progress was blocked; after thedefect is accepted in peace, it begins to improve. In some cases we are simultaneously both the parents and the boy! The Yes to the future is a stark act of faith since we do not know what ~ve are saying Yes to. It is only the confidence in a person that enables us to say Yes for better or for worse. In the wedding it is the trust in the spouse, together ¯ with our faith in God that allows us to engage in a common future and to accept whatever it has in store. In ordination and in religious profession it is--over and above the reliance on the community--the belief in the living God that constitutes the basis for commitment. Without a strong spirit of faith, it would be utter foolishness to promise solemnly and forever poverty, chastity, and obedience. In fact the beauty and the testimony of the vows con-sists precisely in their being so explicitly an act of faith. When Everything Has a Meaning, How Can You Live Anything But a Yes! The faithful repetition of our Yes eventually leads us to the watershed where life starts flowing in another direction. The uphill climb pays off in a panoramic perspective and gracious ease to live the Yes continuously. The pilgrim has become single-hearted and now sees God everywhere. The purity of his eye penetrates to the deepest Ground of everything and discerns all as grace-filled and meaningful. This in turn reinforces the Yes. Life has become whole and holy. Meaninglessness implies that the various life-experiences are disconnected 844 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 and therefore disconcerting. It just does not make sense! They present a void which creates feelings of despair. They paralyze all efforts to do something about it because they suggest that it is all useless anyway. Suicide becomes an alluring temptation. In the realm beyond the watershed the isolated pieces fall into place and show a pattern never perceived before. Perhaps it is more accu-rate to say that the change takes place not so much in the objective reality as in our view of it. We have finally reached the vantage point where we have the right perspective. The total Yes has rendered all reality transparent and coherent. We feel like Jacob awakening from his dream at Bethel: "Truly, the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it!" (Gn 28:16). A deep joy a~ccompanies this experience. It is like coming home after a long, hopeless meander. That home is really the presence of God. We now recognize him everywhere, even where previously we had discerned nothing whatsoever of him. He is the bond that connects all. It is the old concept of divine providence which we rediscover in shining newness. Meaningfulness then, is not some-thing, but someone. God has nothing since he is the creator of all. He does not produce something which he then delivers. He remains the living center of all that is; without him, it could not be. In everything he gives, he gives himself as well; therefore he can be found in everything. It is ohly in recognizing God this way that reality acquires its full meaning, is allowed to be all that it is meant to be. The basic trust which is so vital for human well-being now extends to all of reality. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God." (Rm 8:39). The surrender can now be complete. How can we live anything but a Yes? We can join in with Charles de Foucauld in his prayer of abandonment: Father. I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will. Whatever you may do, 1 thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures-- I wish no more than this, 0 Lord. Into your hands l commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for ! love you Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, and with boundless confidence, for you are my father. Others, to art.iculate their gift of self, may prefer the older prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola at the end of his Spiritual Exercises: Take, Lord, all my liberty. Receive my memory, my understanding, my whole will, Yes / 845 all that I have and possess. You have given all to me; I return it all to you. Do with me as you will; Give me only your love and your grace. with these I am rich enough and ! desire nothing more. In Luke's Gospel we find an expression of total abandonment that is still much older and took only one word:fiat. With it Mary chooses obedience as the pattern of her life, "Let it be done to me as you say" (Lk 1:38); through it she surrenders her body to God, and all her possessions are also included in this one act of abandonment. Said in a moment, it is spelled out in a lifetime. As a sheaf is bound in the middle and fans out towards the ends, so the life of Mary, in all its bounty, is held together by this little word. All her years before this moment flow into it and all the rest of her life flows from it. God's grace enables her to say it, and in saying it, she enables God's grace to work in her. It directs her whole beirig towards God and away from selfishness and self-concern. It makes her completely transparent so that through her the Light in its fullness can come into the world. It creates the room God needs to become man. Jesus is the embodiment of. Mary's Yes, the fruit of her fiat; greater fruitfulness is inconceivable. Her fiat in no way stymies her personality; in fact, it brings her utter fulfillment and is the prototype of all Christian fruit-fulness. We come to you, Mother of our Lord and Mother of us all, to thank you for your Yes that gave us the incarnation of God's own Yes and brought life to its fullness. We ask you, teach us to follow you in saying our Yes with faith and courage. You know the cost of living the Yes; protect ours in integrity and joy. Ask your divine Son for the grace always to repeat our Yes with an ever-growing surrender and to experience how this increases the meaningfulness of our life. Under your inspiration may we help to build the kingdom of God today and every day, for ever and ever. Amen. The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries Stephen Happel Father Happel is Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. This article is based on an earlier paper originally published in Learning to Pray Alone (Abbey Press), pp. 34-43. Private prayer is never accomplished without a social, communal context. Individual prayer has not only social conditions and social ramifications, but also social ingredients which quaiify and constitute its very nature. Our private languages are learned in the public forum. We speak to ourselves because others have spoken to us and because we have learned to speak to them. So too with God. Both the personal vocabulary and private grammar of our speech with God are primarily social-ecclesial in their initial stages (whether learned from parents or teachers), in their performance from day to day, and in their various results (ministering to others, praying with others, allowing the kingdom to be formed). If one combines this sense of the social dimension, indeed social constitu-tion, of prayer with its fundamental component, dialogue with the Other, then that Other will almost necessarily have the characteristics of the "social other" experienced at any given point in human development. So, for exam-ple, in one's earlier years, speaking with God is accomplished in the horizon of the discipline and "otherness" of one's parents. Religious psychologists maintain that it is possible atany given point in an individual's life to indicate the creative synthesis of parental figures which qualifies the notion of God.' Thus, I will maintain in the following that "the other" in the seminary context ' See A. Vergote, Psychologie religieuse (Brussels: Dessart, 1966), esp. pp. 294-299, 307. The Social Context of Personal Prayer / 847 will radically qualify the ability or inability of individuals to pray alone. How is "the other" experienced in the seminary environment? Needless to say, the reflections offered here should not be taken so much as judgment, but as description. It may be true that the achievement of human freedom in relation to God is the goal of seminary education programs; but what sort of inter-active freedom does seminary structure actt~ally provide? The typological description of institutional structure which follows is not so much an analysis of any particular seminary as it is the affective grid of the institution-known-as- seminary. I offer it as an hypothesis about the problem, and suggest that facing it constructively may assist in achieving a solution to the problem of praying privately.2 The Perfect Society: A Unity of Transcendentals The seminary, whatever its historical origins, seems to think of itself as an autonomous, indeed "perfect society." In an updated version of this ideal, it would be described as a place in which all would be brothers and sisters; in which power would intelligently persuade and invite to participation rather than willfully force; in which external forms of .religious expression would always mirror interior dispositions; and in which each person's relation to sur-rounding Nature would be in terms of appreciating and creating Beauty, rather than exploiting it. Affect and reason would be coincident; and the Good would necessarily flow from and be the origin of both. The truth would always be told; the good would always be practiced; and the beautiful would be in evidence everywhere. Institutional structure would incarnate and measure this integration; individuals would readily learn to assume the responsibility of living these goal,s; and, as St. Paul says, God would be "all in all." This enlightened reincarnation of Christian society, however, contains two major oversights of fact: namely, the overwhelmingly transient character of a seminary's student population, and what has been gracefully entitled by a colleague of mine "human sloth." These may be described in more classical terms as "the finite character of the human condition," and "original sin." Now the inclusion of these two facts of human experience into our descrip-tion of societal mix does not justify removing the human odcasion for achiev-ing freedom. I do not subscribe to the simplification which would suggest: "Mistakes will be made; therefore remove the possibility of mistakes." But their inclusion does allow us to see what happens when it is assumed that an institution can easily incarnate the human good without reference to the criticism required by the acknowledgement of finitude and guilt. The first consequence of these two facts is that power will inevitably fall to 2 1 am also convinced that some of the problems discussed and the solutions proposed, if utilized, would go a long way in aiding contemporary Catholic seminaries in their task of acculturating the older students who are entering seminary at present. 848 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 those who remain the longest in the situation, in this case to the faculty and administration. The second is that this power will be concretized in a bureaucracy which is supposed to "run the system" irrespective of the iden-tities of the participants. Students, faculty, staff, and administration will all feel victims of "the other" who is the system (confer the,response to ques-tions: "That's the way it's done around here," noting especially the neuter passive construction). But because students are the primary mobile popula-tion, they will feel the alienation of power

Issue 27.1 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 21, CHASTITY AND LOVE Joseph J, Sikora, S.J. VIRGINAL TEMPLES Thomas Dubay, S.M. ALIENATION OF MANUSCRIPTS James I. O'Connor, S.J. COMPREHENSIVE MENTAL HEALTH PROGRAMMING John F. Muldoor~ 66 INDIVIDUAL FORMATION PERIODS William F. Hogan. C.S.C~ GROUP METHODS IN SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M. AUTHORITY AND RELIGIOUS LIFE J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. 104 LOVE HAS ITS PROPRIETIES Sister Mary Sheila, S.N.J.M. COMMUNITY AND MYSTERY AT MASS Robert A. Bagnato, S.J. THE JESUIT NOVITIATE Nicholas A. Predovich. S.J. 137 THE TERRITORIAL IMPERATIVE Sister Teresa Margaret, O,C.D 143 THE PIETY VOID Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. 163 SURVEY OF R~)MAN DOCUMENTS 170 VIEWS. NEWS, PREVIEWS 174 'QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 186 BOOK REVIEWS 1;12 121 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellavd, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as wei| as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32x Willlngs Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1967 by REVIEW YOU RI~LIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER x REVIEW FOR RELI(~IOUS Volume 27 1968 . EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Micro-film edition of Review for Re-ligious is available from Uni-versity Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS On February i, 1968, R~vaEw FOR P~ELI~IOUS will publish clothbound reprints of volumes 2I to 25 (1962-I966) incluslve of the REv-mw. These clothbound reprints will cost $7.5o each per volume or' $37.5o for all five volumes. However, until January 3I, x968, these volumes will be sold at a special prepublication price of $6.oo per volume or $3o.oo for the entire set of five volumes. However, to take advantage of this special prepublication price, orders mhst be accompanied by full payment in U.S.A. funds and must be postmarked on or before January S~, 1968" The first twenty volumes (1942-I96I) inclusive of the R~vmw have already been reprinted in twenty clothbound volumes. These normally sell at $6.5o per volume or $I3o.oo for the set of twenty. However, from November ~ 5, 1967, to January 3 I, 1968, inclu-sive, they will be sold at the special price of $5.o0 per volume or $1oo.oo for the set of twenty. On February I, I968, and thereafter the price of these first twenty volumes of the REvmw will return to their normal price of $6.5o per. volume. Postage is included in all the above prices. Orders for all the above should be sent to: R~vmw Foa REL~C~OUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. JOSEPH J. SIKORA, s.J. Chastity and Love Recent* decades have seen a gradual change in theo-logical emphasis and perspective regarding various as-pects of human sexual love in the state of marriage. Four such aspects might be distinguished: pleasure, procreation, mutual help, and personal love and com-munion. While all four of these have in fact always been present in this sexual relation, though not necessarily in every case, until only recently the first three were most strongly emphasized. And of these three, procreation has been traditionally regarded as the "primary end" of marriage. But in recent years the fourth, with the help of modern psychological and philosophical studies, has come into much greater prominence, so much so that some have wished to treat it as in fact the really pri-mary end of marriage. In the light of the past teaching o{ the Church this seems quite impossible, but it is at least recognized now that this personal love and com-munion is not just something subordinate to the bio-logically procreative aspect of sexual life. Interpersonal communion among us is one of the pri-mary values of human life, and human sexual love is ordinarily the primary and fullest mode of this inter-personal communion. Sexual intercourse in marriage is the full incarnation of this sexual love in the manner connatural to the human person; it is at once a sign and expression of this love and communion, ~nd also a means of intensifying it still more. When intercourse reaches its natural term in procreation, the child himself is a yet further expression and sign of the mutual love of the parents and at the same time a new bond that joins them still more firmly in this love, now not only mutual but for .the child as well. Thus marriage and family life are most fully human, not at the level of mere biological activity, but at the level of human love and interpersonal * Since the writing o{ this article Father Joseph J. Sikora, S.J., has died; may he rest in peace. This article will appear in a posthumous book by Father Sikora on the theology of religious life to be published in 1968 by Herder and Herder. ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" .loseph .I. Sikora, S.1. REVIEW F~R RELIGIOUS 6 communion. The whole biological structure finally exists only in order to support such a life of persons in mutual knowledge, love, communion, and communication. From a purely biological point of view we might speak of the primary end of marriage and sexual intercourse as b~ing that of the biological species rather than that of the individual, and consequently of its being found in pro-creation rather than in the pleasure and good of the biological individual. Still, this could hardly be said in such a simple way of the domain of personal and inter-personal values that are found ;here. (But this is not meant to suggest any hasty conclu'sions about the thorny problem of contraception.) But if marriage is now understood primarily in its significance in the personal and interpersonal sphere (though without ever setting aside its biological as-pects), this must mean that religions chastity also has an altered significance. Religious chastity, of course, still entails the denial of the pleasures of sex, of the possi-bility of procreation, and of the various joys of married life. But this chastity must also mean that a primary natural mode of human interpersonal communion in love is also excluded. Metaphysical and theological reflection in this light reveals a .most serious problem with the ideal of religious chastity. We do not relate ourselves to God in the same direct manner in which we can relate to our fellow hu-man beings. In fact we come to know God through the analogical resemblance of His creatures to Him; and we understand the meaning of interpersonal love and com-munion with God through our understanding of human love and communion. But if we are, through chastity, to exclude from our lives the primary mode of such hu-man love, then how can we come to the most profound affective relationship to God? And yet the very purpose of religious chastity is to enable us, with the help of grace, to come to just such a deeper relationship of love, not only to God but even to our fellow men. It would seem, then, that religious chastity really defeats its own purpose. This problem has also another aspect. The two sexes are mutually complementary in many ways, and really need each other in order to achieve full human growth to maturity. Either one by itself lacks a certain complete-ness in the line of nature, in some manner is not yet a full person. Especially is this so in regard to the very dimension of interpersonal communion itself. But with-out this interpersonal communion one must remain to some extent closed in upon himself, and, so it would seem, thereby less capable of opening outward in the love of God. Still more, religious chastity tends, in the con-crete, frequently to close off even other modes of mutual human interpersonal affective relation, in the interest of avoiding possible dangers of undue attachment to another person and even of eventual sexui~l difficulty. But all this only appears to weaken the ability of the person to enter into any affective relation at all, even to God. There is in fact a fundamental openness to God---even in the natural order and .the structure of our finite being, but also in the supernatural order through infused faith, hope, and charity--that already exists prior to any hu-man interpersonal relation at. all. It is true that our su-pernatural life is thus intrinsically prior to and inde-pendent of any particular human relationships at all. But still, this supernatural life must make use of our natural knowledge, natural love, natural affective com-munion, in order to come to .some analogical understand-ing of the meaning of the love of God, and to those particular acts of prayer and action that fill out our super-natural life under faith, hope, and charity. "If anyone does not love his neighbor, whom he sees, how can he love God, whom he does not see?" Full human life, and even full human life with God, seems to suppose pro-found affective relation to other persons, and perhaps even complete sexual communion with another in mar-riage. Such considerations as the above have led some to consider seriously whether we ought to reverse the ideas of many centuries concerning the value of religious chas-tity as a means of entering into a more intense life of loving communion with God. They point out that hu-man persons are both spiritual and fleshly, that it is simply wrong for us to try to escape this fact about our being, that we must work out with the help of God our salvation in and through the world and in and through our bodies as part of this world and even of our being. And these latter points are, to be sure, valid enough so far as they go. And yet there is in fact an ideal of religious chastity; it remains one of the three evangelical counsels. It has had a long history in the Church, in pre-Christian times, and in non-Christian religions. Quite apart from the position taken by the Church in its regard, religious chastity could not but be regarded with a degree of respect because of this long tradition in its favor in widely varying cultures and religions. It would be some-what naive for us to think that the difficulties cited above are of themselves conclusive and that religious chastity has become an outmoded cultural and religious form. Chastity has some resemblance to religious poverty. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Again, there is a renunciation of the use and possession of some creatures in the .interest of a greater freedom of spirit in their regard. This ddtachment from creatures is thought to make attachment to God in love easier than it would otherwise be. At the same time, chastity like. poverty, tends to enable the one who embraces it to achieve a greater degree of order in his love, now his love of p~.rsons and not just of material things, and indeed also ,a greater degree of perfection in this love. Chastity by no means intends to deny the need of grace-elevated human love and communion, as well as of love' and communion with God through grace. But through the renunciation of sexual love, chastity prepares for a "mystical" love of God :and of all other persons in God. The meafiing of this "mystical" love will be explained in more detail.below. For the moment let it stand for a certain excess in intensity of" love that is so focused on God that everything else, is loved only in relation to Him. The dangers of .religious chastity for many persons have long been known in at least a general way. This way of chastity is not for everybody, nor even for most. "Let him take it who can." An already neurotic person-ality might look tO religious chastity as a way out of some of his problems, but in fact 0nly fall into further en-tanglements as a result of embracing' it. (And yet it is also possible for some neurotics finally to grow to ma-ture persons in a religious life of poverty, chastity, and obedienceS--but under enlightened direction.) It would be possible for one who embraces religious chastity to pervert its intention by so turning in upon himself as, to be completely unable to relate affectively with other peisons: Chastity here has been twisted into narcissicism. Or one could go not quite so far down this path, by mis-taking the renunciation of sexual love for a renuncia-tion of any intense human love of friendship at all. Such a person would be at least a stunted "personality, some-what'hollow, perhaps al~n'ost mechanical in his life and work. All these are serious .dangers to be avoided by careful direction of those who would enter upon the way of Chasiity. Theyare fhrther reasons, besides the strength of the basic human sexual-impulse, that chastity is not [or anyone and everyone--not even for" everyone wh6' might think he wants it. But with all this,, the theory of religious chastity is fundamentalIy Osound. It should lead, and most important it has led, to a higher degree of detachment and freedom of spirit in regard to material things and the desires of the flesh. It should provide, and has provided for many, the opportunity for a new height of affective supernat-ural communion with God, and also with all men in God. It.should offer, and has offered in fact, to many a greater freedom for their apostolic work for the kingdom of God. The Church has already taught in an irreformable manner the great value of chastity as a means in the love and service of~ God; in itself the state of virginity or chastity is superior to that of matrimony for this reason. We have the example of Christ Himself, of His Mother, and of many of the canonized saints. In the face of ob-jections concerning the "natdralness" of sexual union and of matrimony, we must first insist that the natural order is not all that is to be considered. In general, however, we must agree that successful human love-rela-tionships (that are also desirable and licit) do tend to favor supernatural life with God and with our fellow men at the level of the reflex articulation of prayer and at that of particular action. They are even dispositions in favor of a good basic moral option of charity under-lying all these particular thoughts and actions (merely negative dispositions if these relationships are not in-spired by grace, even positive dispositions if they are. in fact inspired by grace). But in order to understand fully the actual role of religious chastity in regard :to super-natural love it is necessary to adopt a quite different point of view. There is a love that is of'its nature a unique love, without the possibility of any simultaneous analogues in the same person. Of itself it is a once-and-once=only affair (though it is possible for one such love to give way to another in the course of life, or in the entrance to eternity). Jacques Maritain has distinguished, in his recent Carnet de Notes (Paris, 1965), between an amour d'amitid and an amour de 7olie, to bring out this point. It is possible for us to take advantage of his elaboration of this distinction a propos of chastity in order to better understand several aspects of chastity and its relation to our supernatural life of grace. But not everything in the presentation here is necessarily to be attributed to Maritain. Amour d'amitid, or ordinary love of friendship, is opposed to amour de [olie. Both of these would certainly have to be called love of friendship in a broad sense, since the amour de folie is a yet more intense form of love that goes still farther, beyond ordinary friendship. But we shall set aside for the moment all consideration of this amour de folie, and concentrate our attention upon various aspects of the ordinary love of friendship (amour d'amiti~)--such as ~is found to exist between hu-man friends and also between a person with sanctifying grace and God Himself. When such a love of friendship comes to its perfection + + + Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 9 4" 4" 4" .loseph I. Sikora, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 (speaking only relatively, since such a.love could go on increasing without limit), there is profound affective communion between the friends. This communion also includes, both as a support and as a result, the mutual sharing of all their goods in communication and in other forms of mutual giving. All that belongs to one also belongs to the other. And yet it could not be said that each has given his whole self to the other, except by a metaphor. It would be quite possible for each to have other friendships similar to this and simultaneous .with it, at the same or even greater degrees of intensity of love and communion. Each shares all he has, but not all of his very self. There is a love of friendship similar to this between the human person with sanctifying grace and God. This friendship between man and God means that the man has a personal affective regard for, communion with, and commitment to God that does in fact go beyond what he might have for any human friends. This is only to say that he loves God above all things and would prefer to lose any creature rather than God and His friendship. Such a friendship with God already exists at the level of the basic moral option of charity; thus it might be found even in anonymous Christians who would not be able to articulate in their thought or ex-press so well in their particular acts (at least not in such a full and conscious manner) their actual profound love of God. Such anonymous Christians do not have the fully articulated faith of Christians in the Church but only an inarticulate faith-adherence to the saving good who is God. But those Christians who live in the light of articulated faith can cultivate relations with God even at the level of reflex articulation of thought and through the various particular acts that every concrete situation calls for. Such a fuller life with God, at the level and under the direction of reflex consciousness, wouldneces-sarily be understood and lived by analogy with one's experience of ordinary human interpersonal relations further illumined by the light of faith. Clearly, every licit form of experience of human love and interpersonal communion could aid in enriching one's life with God at this level. But if there, is analogy between friendship between men and that between man and God, there is also notable difference, It is true that such a friendship between man and God is simply compatible with profound supernat-ural human affection and friendship for other human beings. But at the same time supernatural friendship with God, in its roots in the basic moral option of char-ity, calls for ever greater entry by man into participation in the very life of God Himself. There must be gradual growth of the divine life' in man, a gradual assertion of its dominion over every aspect of the human life in man. And although natural human tendencies ~ontinne to assert themselves throughout human life until death, these tendencies must themselves be elevated ever more completely by grace--integrated ever more completely into the supernatural life in man--so that God may have an ever more complete dominion in the human spirit in supernatural faith, hope, and charity. Concrete human love continues in this life to have both elements, supernatural grace and natural tendencies that are not thoroughly and completely subjected to supernatural grace. But the fundamental tendency of supernaturally graced man is toward an immediate union and total communion with God that could not exist simply side-by- side with another such communion but rather must really come to dominate exclusively and in utmost inti-macy- so that God really does become the form in some manner of the human soul. This kind of communion with God will be communion with God as one's All, simply one's All. This communion is already realized in an incipient manner through sanctifying grace and the indwelling of the Trinity in the human spirit; but it will be realized more fully, and more clearly, in the light of the immediate vision of God in eternity. But if such a height of friendship with and total im-mersion into God in af[ective communion is not part of the ordinary course of human supernatural life until eternity, nevertheless the mystical writers testify that this tendency of the life of grace can be in fact more fully actualized even at present. God does become more completely All for and in the spirit of man in the "mys-tical life" and through "mystical love." (But these terms are used here simply as designating a special mode of interpersonal relation to God, without carrying the weight of any special ontological account of "infused contemplation" that would make a radical break between ordinary Christian spiritual life and the entire mystical life.) This leads to a consideration of the second mode of love noted above, the amour de folie, or, we may say, "love unto folly," We shall examine the general charac-ter of such a love and then note the two modes in which it can come to realization here below. This analysis will enable us to understand much better the precise role of chastity as a religious means toward fullness of life with God here below, and indeed also the role of the whole life of the counsels in this regard. "Love unto folly" goes beyond ordinary friendship. In it there is not only a complete sharing of goods but even ¯ a complete, unreserved, mutual self-giving. Such an + ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 11 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph ~. Sik~ra, S4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 12 abandon in the giving of one's whole self to another is only folly to mere reason. For reason sees the natural reference of every human love somehow to the self (in the natural sphere, and without consideration of the fundamental tendency of supernatural life). To mere reason, love must always be the love of a good that is good-for, a good that is good in itself but also a good for the one who loves. But in this love unto folly, this seems to be almost ignored by the one who loves; this is a love that goes beyond such categories of formulating and discursive reason, following a higher light of intuitive reason. And what is it that intuitive reason "sees"? It all depends on which of two directions this "love unto folly" takes. But for the moment we must confine our-selves to remarks about this love that are quite general. In this love there is fully exclusive affective commun-ion, not excluding other loves of friendship but com-pletely excluding any other love like this. This is love of the other as one's All. But we can have only one All, in whom we are totally absorbed and to whom we are totally given in all that we are and have. Such a love means complete communion Of spirit and complete open-ness to communication and all mutual giving. Needless to say, there would be no possibility of an analogical relation between two such loves in the same person simultaneously--there can be only one All for a person at a time, unless this person be the infinite God who gives Himself totally in all that He is to all men who will receive Him. But such a perfection of love as this could be found by man in either of two orders. There is a natural per-fection (capable also of elevation by supernatural grace) of such love. This is to be found in the complete mutual giving of man and woman in sexual love in marriage. This sexual love is finally and fully incarnated, sym-bolized, and at its peak of intensity, in its physical as-pect, in the act of sexual intercourse. But such sexual love is much more than this in the spiritual domain of affective communion and all that follows from this. In sexual love of this kind, in which one person gives him-self completely to the other in h~is whole being, there is the greatest other-centeredness that could be found in natural human love for another human being. It is to the other as to his All that he gives himself. We are of course speaking of the most successful human marriage relations and not of the failures; these latter remain all too possible, especially for lack of the ability to love in such a manner. This other-centered love is not without the radical reference to self that is the mark of every natural hu-man love to the extent that it is not elevated by and brought under the complete, and perfect dominion of grace. If one finds his All in another, this is still in the other as another self (and therefore finally as somehow good-for the sel~). This follows from the very meta-physical structure of natural human love. But at the same time the metaphysical structure of this natural sexual love, focusing on the other as fully another self--even as a part of one's integral being--also makes it to be the most fully other-centered mode of natural human love. Sexual intercourse is of itself expr.essive of this complete other.centeredness, of total personal giving in mutual communion. Such a love as this could clearly be only for one other at once. When such a perfect sexual love is elevated by supernatural grace, it retains the same basic characteris-tic, that each person is All to the other. But supernat-ural charity, as we have seen, gives a new further orien-tation and drive toward God and toward a fullness of communion with God. Some day the "love unto folly" of married persons must end, at least in eternity; for charity must fructify into complete loving communion with God now present in vision. Then He will truly become the All for everyone who is with Him. Rejoicing together in their supernatural friendship of charity, they will all see and love the Three who are much more than friends to them, who are their All, whatever else they may have besides. But even in this present life here below it is possible for men to arrive at a perfection of supernatural love o[ God that is in some ways parallel to the perfection of natural (and supernaturally elevated by grace) love in most successful marriage. This would be a "mystical love," as has already been noted above. As a mode of "love unto folly" it would be simply incompatible with the simultaneous presence of another such love as this. Only one other could be one's All at one time. Yet this love inspired by supernatural grace would not be a love for God only as "another self" (such as would be any mere natural love, with its radical reference to the self), but even for God as the transcendent and infi-nite Self, good-for Himself and also to and for His shared life of supernatural grace. The focal point of grace-inspired love is altogether outside oneself, even in the most radical sense. Such a love is never found iso-lated in the pure state in our present mode of being; there is also a (in itself neither sinful nor disorderly) natural element--a natural love--with it that retains an independent and radical reference to oneself in focusing upon what is good-for oneself. This element will, of course, remain even in eternal life with God; but there it will be completely integrated under the dominion of ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Lo~e VOLUME 27, + ÷ ÷ 1oseph J. Sikora, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 supernatural life¯ Our progress in supernatural life here below consists in large part of the growth of this do-minion of supernatural grace even at present. In "mys-tical'love" for God, the supernatural aspect clearly be-comes more and more dominant; it is even possible for complete integration of everything else under the super-natural life to be achieved in the state of transforming union and the mystical hght. But such an intricate and refined analysis need not be carried any further here. What is of interest here is a more descriptive account of this supernatural mode of "love nnto folly." In and through such a love of man for God, God shows Himself more openly and enters into a more profound intimacy with the human spirit. In this love the real finality of supernatural grace in us emerges more into the light (though still in the obscurity of faith)--its tendency toward the complete dominion of God in the soul, as the center of every activity, through supernatural faith, hope, and charity. This supernatural mode of "love unto folly" is ultimately incompatible with another such simultaneous love in the order of human sexual relation, and indeed utterly transcendent in relation to such a sexual love in any event. There is therefore no possibility of analogiz-ing from such a sexual, human love in order to achieve an adequate reflex articulation of "mystical love" in thought or in particular day-to-day action. Passive con-templation, without the possibility of adequate active articulation must begin here; this is a way of renuncia-tion of means and a way of darkness for the spirit--in which it must be led by th~ Spirit rather than find its own way. Every articulation in terms of earlier experi-ence is now simply insufficient to express what is now felt, and no acts are in any way adequate to testify to the actnal intensity of this love. Only silence, and per-haps also the most intense apostolic activity, come any-where near expressing this personal devotion and intensity of affective communion with God and with Christ; and yet finally everything falls short. There are no patterns in human love available here, except those we find 'in the revelation of God--especially in Scripture--in the life of Christ, and in the lives of the saints. But each one who follows this way must follow it in his own unique manner, under the guidance of God. Still, it is not true to say that the earlier modes of expressing friendship with God in articulated thought and action simply disappear. Far from it. Common mo-rality always remains to be lived as perfectly as possible. Frequent articulated prayer goes right along with mys-tical prayer--articulation first in the liturgy of the Church but also in personal prayer outside the liturgical events. And as we have said, the modes of apostolic ac-tion still remain, perhaps now expanded both in variety and in scope. So also, it remains true always that many human interpersonal relations of the most profound affective nature will help to deepen awareness and understanding, aid in greater reflex articulation, and also contribute to inventiveness in our apostolic action among our fellows --as well as enabling us to carry out better the simple exigencies of that fundamental love of neighbor that goes along with any friendship, and afortiori such a friendship, with God and with Christ. Only one such human interpersonal relation is ex-cluded as incompatible with such a full love-relation to God; .this is the "love unto folly" that ordinarily should mark successful marriage. And yet marriage itself is not excluded here. Neither is sexual intercourse within mar-riage (though it is deprived of its full symbolism of com-plete mutual giving of self--how could one give himself wholly to two Alls?). Perhaps the true "love unto folly" that is "mystical love" is not ordinarily found in such cases; but who could collect and offer statistics in this matter? In any event this kind of supernatural "love unto folly" for God does'mean that a union in marriage be-tween "mystics" would have to be something less in itself than it would be if it were itself a "love unto folly" for these same persons. Of itself and apart from the con-sideration of special circumstances, perfect chastity would ordinarily be the "easier" way, more free of tension, for those who would wish to give themselves in such a manner to God. In this sense, chastity and the whole way of the counsels could be called the "ordinary way" of pursuing such a path of love of God. In the light of these considerations, the supernaturally motivated renunciation of marriage, of sexual inter-course, of sexual pleasure, is of itself a preparation (negative, or even positive) in the supernatural order for such a higher mode of love of God. This renunciation is such a preparation precisely in so far as it excludes the other mode of "love unto folly" that could only exist among married Persons and that would incarnate and symbolize itself in sexual intercourse. This renunciation is not of itself already the actual "achievement" (if we may so speak of what can only be a gift of God) of .a "mystical" love of God; but it cannot help but point toward and even call for such a relation to God. The whole life of the evangelical counsels tends toward this exclusive love of God that goes beyond mere friendship; and this kind of love of God does not seem really possible without something at least equivalent to what is ordinarily understood as the life of the counsels. 4. 4- 4. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 3.968 4. .]oseph .1. Sila~ra, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]6 The renunciation of sexual love that is called for by the life of: the counsels, and by ,evangelical chastity in particular, is of necessity more than just a renunciation of marriage and sexual intercourse. It requires also the renunciation~ of a large number of other intersexual rela-tions that ultimately tend toward the full relation of marriage and intercourse, and that would consequently endanger this ideal of chastity. But at the same time, many other modes of human interpersonal relation through affective regard and communion are not only open to but even very necessary for anyone who would preserve and grow in such an intense loving relation to God Himself. Our love for family, friends, brothers or sisters in a religious community, or in some instances perhaps for a wife, contributes in several important ways toward ~the full expansion and development of that love -"unto folly" of God. that still transcends them all. It would be well briefl~ to dwell upon these ways. As has already been pointed out before, such well-ordered relations of love: toward and communion with other human beings are analogues of human love for God. Even when ttiere is question of "mystical love" for God, these analogues still help to deepen and to support our partial and inadequate understanding of this relation to God and aid the ever inadequate articulation of our attitude in prayer. Such a "climate of human love," also elevated by supernatural grace, greatly facilitates those particular acts in relation to our neighbors toward which charity impels us. Even a natural love of others, com-paratively uninfluenced by the life of grace in us, could be a basis ~on which charity could buildbthough it could also be an obstacle to real supernatural charity by tena-cious resistance to the dominion of charity. ¯ Also, human love of the kind we are describing can remove very serious psychological obstacles that might otherwise be present, obstacles to the full appreciation arid. articulation, so far as possible, of our own love for God and for our neighbor, and also obstacles to the full appreciation, so far as possible, of God's own tender love and care,for us. If we had no feeling of ~being loved by anyone, how could we really appreciate in our human way, however inadequate, God's love for us? How could we really articulate a love for God, whom we do not see, if we cannot feel profound affective regard for other hu-man beings, whom we can see, or if we cannot articulate such a love for other human beings and express it in our various actions in their regard? We need both ,.the ex-perience of being loved by other human beings and that of loving them if we ale to be able to live any kind of articulated supernatural life that is expressed in partic-ular acts of love and care for:both God and man. It would, of course, be imprudent and even naive not to take account of the very real dangers to supernatural life that human love of this kind can create. It would be quite possible for one to grow in attachment to friends so much'that such friends come to stand alongside or even above God in the affections. It would be possible for one to fall gradually even into serious sexual diffi-culties. The great variety of human temperament makes it altogether necessary that no one simple standard of behavior should be required of or imposed upon all in regard to human friendships. But we must always keep a sense of perspective, ~an awareness that a certain amount of possible and remote danger should be tolerated in view of the greater good of full human development and fuller relation with God. In fact, our life of human love is very important indeed in Our religious life--and or-dinarily all the more so in those who follow the way of religious chastity. It would be altogether disastrous for the persohality if some distorted ideal of religious de-tachment were to succeed in crippling or killing our capacity for human love of other human beings. There is a certain amount of conventional nonsense regarding the saints. It is possible that some of them had no real human friendships; but the lives of the saints in general are full of examples of warm friendships, of saints surrounded even by a multitude of friends. Always they look toward a transcending of all such relations in their intense communion with God, but the richness and effectiveness of their human personalities in great part depend upon their capacity for human love. A chastity ¯ that would destroy this would make one much less than he was and would recall the words of Piers Plowman: "Chastity without charity will be chained in hell." But it must finally be understood that religious chas-tity does fundamentally orient the human person toward a love of God that goes beyond all other loves and is a true "love unto folly." Chastity, of all the counsels, points out most vividly the radically mystical purpose of these counsels. And yet if we have in most of this treat-ment emphasized the role of religious chastity as a prep-aration and disposition for a greater fullness of our af-fective love for God and man, this same chastity also has a very great value as regards the effective apostolate that should spring from such love, in all who are not living in a purely contemplative state. It would be well here briefly to note some aspects of this apostolic significance of religious chastity. Religious chastity is of itself a sign of the eschatolog-ical kingdom already here present through grace. It bears witness to the day when we shall come to the full-ness of supernatural life with God in which there will ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 be no marriage or giving in marriage. It also bears wit-ness to the power of grace even here below. Such a wit-ness to the reality and primacy of the spiritual and supernatural life of love of God has its powerful impact in the world. In excluding the bond of married love, religious chastity frees one for the concerns of God, for a really universal apostolate in the love and service of all men. It gives a much dearer vision of both material and spiritual reality by freeing one from total absorption in and centering on the pleasures and partnership of sexual love. The human energy that would otherwise have been expended in such a love is now available for yet higher purposes. If chastity has been insufficiently appreciated in very recent years for its apostolic power as well as for its role in communion with God, it nevertheless lacks nothing of its perennial value. It is only necessary that we come to an adequate appreciation of the more profound under-standing of chastity and of the requirements for success-ful living of such an ideal, that has become possible in the light of the metaphysical and psychological real-ities already discussed above. Such a more adequate ap-preciation will not lead to the abandonment of the ideal of religious chastity but to an even greater perfection in its practice today. It is now possible to make a few sug-gestions concerning the concrete practice of chastity to-day in religious communities. There are many safeguards to religious chastity that are dictated in large part by common sense. Clearly these must still be learned and preserved, today as much as ever, not only in the course of education of new members of religious communities but later as well. It is unneces-sary here to enter into the details of such a program. Only naivete could question the reasons for segregation of sexes and restrictions surrounding this. The same is to be said as regards a somewhat larger area in which Chris-tian modesty would have to be exercised, larger than that for those in or tending toward the married state. But there must be adequate education for recognition of the real complementarity and mutually enriching role of the sexes in human life, for understanding their fundamental equality as well as their differing psychol-ogies. It is simply impossible today to carry on with modern youth and young religious a successful program of sex education that would not meet their more sophis-ticated desire for fuller understanding of themselves precisely as masculine or feminine and therefore as naturally related to their complement. This is no matter of simple education to the simple physical sexual struc-tures and functions. What is needed is much more, a real understanding of the proper psychological mystery of the other sex as well as of one's own. If such an under-standing is absent, there is a felt ignorance of life that can only cause many more and serious problems. With-out such an understanding, one is less a man or less a woman. Such a more elaborate "sex education" of novices and young religious must of course be conducted only in the context of a presentation of the real meaning of the sacrifice entailed by religious chastity. This sacrifice must be seen not simply as a privation endured for the sake of an ascetical "test"--to prove one's strength of char-acter but in its direction toward fuller union and com-munion with God in "love unto folly" and toward total dedication to apostolic concern. But once the meaning of chastity as directed toward greater love is seen, then the role here even of human love and friendship must be pointed out. The values of human friendship~for fuller spiritual life, for fuller human maturity, for better meeting of human problems --must be opposed sharply to the concept of an "isola-tion with God" that would perhaps more commonly tend toward a rather narcissistic preoccupation with one-self and one's subjective states. We must beware of pseudo-idealizations of the saints and of the rhetorical exaggerations of ascetical writers. The saints too were human like us and had the same need of friendship as we do. Human love enriched their lives just as it does ours. If we are to grow in our human capacity for love and the expression of love--the ca-pacity that is supposed for the actual articulation and day-to-day manifestation of our supernatural love for God and for our neighbor, then we must have the ex-perience of this love. Nor would it be enough to have this only as a past recollection from earlier life in the family circle and in the world. It is not difficult to dry up, to forget how to love in a human way, unless this capacity is renewed, stirred to new growth, by the con-tinuing interpersonal involvement of human friendship. In this regard it is well to approach with a somewhat lighter touch the problem of the so-called "particular friendship" that has so much preoccupied many spiritual directors of the past. There is a genuine problem here. There is question of an immature affective relationship that is far too much under the domination of an emotion that goes beyond all bounds. Such relations must finally be controlled or cut off. But at the same time, we must not allow ourselves to be stampeded through fear or excessive caution into looking for the simple removal of emotion and warmth from human friendship. This would be to aim at the ideal of a rather mechanical man ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 19 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph J. Silurra, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 or woman, perhaps really incapable of any profound human love. Such a person would be "immature" in the sense that he or she was not allowed ever to grow to the full capacity for human affective relation to other human beings. Such a person would perhaps have some serious deficiency in dealing with other persons in the work of the apostolate and might find a relative impoverish-ment in his life of prayer and communion with God. Yet human love does have different characteristics in persons of different temperaments. Some are much more affective than others; some put much more emphasis upon practical and effective love that really does do, more than feel, good for other persons. Again, it is im-possible to set down any kind of uniform norms for such things. But the general implications of all that has been said are clear enough, it seems. Finally, it seems well to add a few words concerning the chastity of Christ, that chastity which always remains the model for every form of Christian religious chastity. Christ had, of course, the highest degree of "love unto folly" for His heavenly Father, and consequently for His Father's will. It is in this light that we should look upon His frequent resort to prayer in solitude. Hig Father was His All, here on earth just as in eternity. The chastity of Christ was therefore most congruous with His inner communion with God in the depth of His human heart. But in this union and communion with His Father, and flowing out of this very union and communion, He showed the most complete and tender love for all men, and especially for His very. own. A reading of John 13-17 would far surpass any words that could be added here to demonstrate this. Again we see this tender love when we look at Him, just a few days earlier, weeping over the death of Lazarus, or again, weeping over the city of Jerusalem. He was not the kind of mystic so totally absorbed in the One, or in the "divine darkness," or even in the "divine light," that He had no love to give and to manifest openly to His fellow men. Far from this, He radiated this love to all around Him, and especially to His very own. This lc;ve of Christ must be our own exemplar that guides our effort (aided by grace) just as it guides His own hand in drawing us to Himself and making us true instruments of His peace. THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Virginal Temples "Wherever# a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." z "Never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." ~ If consecrated virgins are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock,s and if they are the "marvelous sign" of the Church's sanctity,4 and if this Church is the temple of the indwelling Spirit-Sanctifier,~ we may not fail to devote some extended attention to the relationships found between the divine inhabitation and dedicated purity. The Church herself offers us her hand to guide us through this discussion, for if we may judge by her liturgical texts, she especially loves to contemplate her God resting in the virginal bosom. She prays, for example, on the feast of St. Gertrude to "God who has prepared in the heart of blessed Gertrude, virgin, a dwelling delightful for Yourself," ~ and on the feast of St. Cecilia she re-joices that "this glorious virgin always bore the gospel.of Christ in her breast nor did she cease day or night from divine converse and prayer., and her heart burned with a heavenly fire." r # Previous articles in this series were published in REVIEW FOR RE~AG~OUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 20~-B0 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation"); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion"); pp. 652-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism"); pp. 910-58 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body"); and pp. 1001-25 ("Indwelling Summit"). z St. Ambrose, De virginibus, bk. 2, c. 4; P.L. 16:214. ~ St. Jerome, Letter 22 to Eustochium, n. 2~; P.L. 22:409. z St. Cyprian, De habitu virginum, c. 5; P.L. 4:445; Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), p. 174. *Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 175--4. ~ Cor 5:16-7. ~ Roman Missal, Collect of November 16. ~ Roman Breviary, Responsory of Lesson 2 of Matins of Novem-ber ~2. Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at MaD, crest College; Davenport, Iowa; address: Box 782; BettendorL Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 21 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Aim oI Virginity: Indwelling God Establishing relationships between consecrated chastity and the divine inhabitation requires no straining of one's theological imagination. On the contrary, Sacred Scripture is quite replete with them. Basic to all of these relationships is the virginityqove orientation: a virgin is a virgin because of the great commandment. Throughout the pages of Sacred Scripture God-and-man intimacy is prominent, and central to this intimacy is love. Even in the old dispensation the love command-ment is clothed with a majestic solemnity and insisted upon with an impressive series of reminders to protect it from oblivion and neglect: Hear, O Israeli The lord is our God, the Lord alonel There- [ore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates,s One day some centuries later a pharisee strolled up to this God become incarnate with a knotty problem. "Master," he wanted to know, "which is the great com-mandment in the Law?" 0f the many possible precepts scattered through the Law the Master unhesitatingly came up with the crucial one: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." 9 This is man's main occupa-tion. It is also the reason a virgin is a virgin. The purpose of renunciation cannot be negative. Nothingness cannot motivate the will. Nor can it serve as a basis for a state in life. Dedicated chastity is not an escape from the burdens of marriage. It is not a flight from something tainted. According to Paul it is a total, efficient, unimpeded, liberating Self-donation to God. One remains virginal to give an undivided attention and love to the Trinity: "I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." 10 The virgin is a virgin that she may love undividedly. In pa-tristic thought the virgin is a person apart, a glory of the Church. Her love is supernatural, superhuman, unspeakably beautiful, immortal: s Dt 6:4-9. ~ Mt 22:36-7. xo 1 Cot 7:~2--4. In this marriage [to Christ] there is no tinge of passionate desire because the fervor of this holy love is nourished by a spiritual refreshment. O angelic and superhuman virtue found in menl O inexpressible splendor of a heavenly and eternal servicel Those who receive it contemplate in the flesh what they shall enjoy in immortality, for they choose the better par,t which will not be taken from them but rather will be perfectea in them. What they now preserve by deed inviolate, shall be rendered to them in an increased reward of a glorious immor-tality, u Such, too, is the thought of Pope Plus XlI: This then is the primary purpose, this the principal aim of Christian virginity: to strive solely after divine realities and to turn one's mind and soul to them, to seek to please God in everything, to think of Him eagerly, to consecrate body and soul entirely to Him. It is nothing but love that sweedy impels the virgin to consecrate entirely, her body and soul to the Di-vine Redeemer. With this idea in mind St. Methodius, Bishop of Olympus, places on her lips these charming words: "You Yourself are all things to me, O Christ. For You I preserve myself unta,!nted; to You I run, my Spouse, holding my shining lamp aloft.' It is love for Christ, surely, which prompts the virgin to flee into the shelter of her monastery and to remain there for life to contemplate and love her heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance.~ When she makes her dedication the object of a vow the virgin places herself in a particularly holy relationship to the Trinity she bears in her heart. This holy situation is brought about, first of all, by her more complete self-surrender. She gives to her God not only the acts by which she is pure but also her very being and faculties that are pure. Just as a man does well who gives the fruit of his orchard to a friend, but does even more if he gives the orchard together with its fruit, so a man does well to give the Trinity acts of purity, but if he gives his very being and powers together with his acts he does even more.~a The virgin's self-donation is complete. The virgin's relationship to God is enhanced by vow, secondly, because through her solemn promises she fixes herself permanently in the holy condition of being bound to the fountain of goodness.14 Being bound is not neces-sarily unfortunate. It depends on that to which or to whom one is fastened. Genuine lovers reckon themselves fortunate to be bound to each other in matrimony. When the virgin binds herself to Beauty by vow, she is in an enviable condition indeed. We may note by contrast that just as a mortal sin is tragic, but to be obstinate or fixed in ~1 St. Fulgentius, Letter 3 to Proba, n. 17; P.L. 65:331. = Plus XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 165-7; see also Vatican II, Decree on Religious Li[e, n. 12; Decree on the Ministry and the Life of Priests, n. 16; Constitution on the Church, tan. 42, 44, 46. ~ St. Thomas gives this teaching and example in refcrence to vows in general, 2-2, q.88, a.6 c. It Ibid. + 4- + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it is far more tragic, so also to be pure is angelic, but to be fixed in a pure union with the Trinity is far more angelic.1~ Spiritual Marriage ¯ So intimate is the love relationship between the virgin and God within that the Church has from the firs~ centu-ries seen a supernatural marriage in consecrated virginity. The doctor of virginity, St. Ambrose, fifteen centuries ~go put this relationship in as brief and lucid a gtatement as one could ask: "Virgo est, quae Deo nubit--she is a virgin who is married to God." x0 In the East St. Gregory of Nyssa, himself a married man but a great admirer of virginity, several times uses the expression, spiritual marriage, to refer to the celibate's union with God. Of it he says: "The soul who joins himself to the immaculate Spouse is bound by love to the true wisdom which is God." aT For St. Fulgentius Christ is the one Spouse and crown of all sacred virgins: This is the only-begotten Son of God, only-begotten Son of the Virgin also, the one Spouse of all sacred virgins, the joy, the beauty, the gift of holy virginity. He it is whom holy vir-ginity corporally brought forth, whom holy virginity spiritually marries, by whom holy virginity is made fruitful in order to persevere, by whom it is graced that it may remain beautiful, by whom it is crowned that it may reign gloriously forever.~ This same saint speaks of God "chastifying" or purify-ing the virgin into being His spouse: "Harken to the love of your Spouse in you; reflect on the loveliness of the Lord. The Lord is good in making you His handle/alden. This Spouse is beautiful who has purified you into being His spouse." 19 So truly did the.fathers consider the con-secrated virgin as wedded to God that they bluntly spoke of an unfaithful virgin as an adultress. Said Ambrose: "She who has espoused herself to Christ and has received the holy veil has already ma.rried, she has already, been joined to an immortal Man. Then if she should wish to enter a common marriage, she commits adultery." s0 Augustine's judgment was the same: "If a virgin marries [that is, one only physically a virgin], she does not sin, but if a nun (sanctimonialis) marries, she Will be con-sidered an adultress of Christ." 21 Pope Pius XII pointed ~ Mt 22:30. ~ le De virginibus, bk. 1, c. 8; P2,. 16:203. See also c. 5. 1~ De virginitate, c. 20; P.G. 25:301. rs Letter 3 to Proba, n. 6; P.L, 65:326. l~Ibid., n. 30 his; P.L. 65:336: "Attende igitur in te sponsi tui amorem, considera Domini pietatem. Plus est Dominus, qui te sibi fecit ancillam; speciosus sponsus, quite castificavit in sponsam;" ¯ o De lapsu virginis, c. 5; P.L, 16:373. ~Enarratio in Ps. 83, n. 4; P.L. 37:1058. out that already from the fourth century the Church's rite fdr the consecration of virgins was closely similar to her rit~ for blegsing earthly marriages.22 Even in today's liturgy the sainted virgin is called the spouse of Christ,2a and' the newly composed Mass for the profession cere-mony of religious women has the marriage theme running through it. If the law of praying is the law of believing, it is s!gnificant indeed that the Church has chosen to weave a supernatural wedding thread throughout the virgin's consecration to God.~4 In this most pure and heavenly marriage the virgin fi~ho has left all things for her spouse bears Him in her breast. This union is not only intimate, not only indis-soluble, not only personality-completing; it is a union that cannot be interrupted by death or clouded by the spectre of death. Divine revelation, speaks of God's rela-tiohship to any faithful soul as a wedded relationship, but in an additional way can these statements be understood of the consecrated virgin who will have no lover in her life but'Him.2~ Although Catholic Scripture scholars commonly understand the Song of Songs as expressing the intimate and incomparably beau'tiful love between God and man, it may be applied even more pointedly to this relationship between God and the virgin:2~ My lover is for me a sachet of myrrh to rest in my bosom .As an apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my lover among men. My lover speaks; he says to me "Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!". "Let me see you, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and you are lovely." . Set me as a seal bn your heart, as a seal on your arm; for stern as death is: love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. (Cant. 1:1~; £:8, 10, 14!, 8:6). Indwelling Spiritualizes the Temple Divine m~ste~es are all secret, wondrously hidden. Solne of them, ,.however, "we see (or think we see) more clearly than others. One of the most secret of the divine works is the manner in which the abiding Spirit conse-crates and even somehow spiritualizes the flesh bf His human temple. That He does is a fact of His own telling: ~ Plus XlI, Sa~ra virginitas, p. 166. ~* Vespers of a virgin. a Those who now deny a bridal relationship of the consecrated virgin to Christ should reckon with the fact that they are running counter to the plain'mind of tile Church. ~ Is 54:5,7-8; Song of S, passim; Eph fi:21-3~. We may distinguish in traditional Catholic thought four types of brideship with Christ: the Church, each Christian soul, the advanced soul enjoying the transforming union, the consecrated virgin. It is only the last who can share in all four, ~ The Church herself in using the Song of Songs for the profes-sion of religious women herself suggests that we so use it. + 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 2~, 1~,9 2~ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "They who are according to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit. You, however, are not carnal but gpiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you ¯. Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? It anyone destroys the temple of God, him will God destroy; for holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are." 27 Because the virgin particularly lives according to the spirit and minds the things of the spirit, she especially is spiritual and not carnal. And if she especially is spirit-ualized, it is indeed because the Spirit of God dwells in her. All men are holy and consecrated by this inabiding Fire, but especially is she who by her integral dedication "thinks about the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit." ~s In an eminent manner may we apply to her the remarkable praise the Lord God bestowed on His people: "You were exceedingly beauti-ful, with the dignity of a queen. You were renowned among the nations for your beauty, perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I. had bestowed on you, says the Lord God." 29 Indwelling: Motive for Crystal Chastity If the very flesh of the human temple is sanctified, con-secrated by the presence of the Spirit, we can easily grasp the converse conclusion that this very presence is most fittingly honored by a crystal purity in the temple. When St. Paul comes to convincing the Corinthians of their great need for chastity, he lines up several doctrinal truths and caps them with the divine indwelling. First, the Christian's flesh is not a thing for itself; it is the Lord's: "The body is not for immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body." so Second, this body is to rise gIoriously one day as did the Lord on the first Easter: "God has raised up the Lord and will also raise us up by his power." 3XThird, this body is a mem-ber of the mystical Christ and is therefore to cling to no sinful partner but to the Lord Himself: "Do you not know that your bodies' are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a harlot? By no means[ Or do you not know that he who cleaves to a harlot, becomes one body with her? 'For the two,' it says, 'shall be one flesh.' But he who cleaves to the Lord is one spirit with him. Flee immorality." a~ ~ Rom 8:5,9; 1 Cor 3:16--7. = 1 Cot 7:34. ~ Ez 16:1~-4. ~ 1 Cor 6:13. m 1 Cor 6:14. ~ 1 Cot 6:15-8. Lastly, this body is the very temple of the Holy Spirit bought at the price of the Lamb and thus precious in its value: "Or do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have from God, and "that you are not your own? For you have been bought at a great price. Glorify God and bear him in your body." as The conclusion is clear: rejoice this abiding God by your prayer and your purity. This, indeed, does glorify Him in your body. Indwelling Converse and Virginity It consecrated virginity occupies so singular a place in the supernatural economy that its representatives are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock and are wedded to their God, we should expect that it would be somehow bound up in a unique intimacy with this God. We should expect that the virgin possesses some advantage in con-versing with her Spouse that the non-virgin does not pos-sess. The data of divine revelation bear out our expecta-tion, for St. Paul tells us that together with the undivided heart the reason a virgin is a virgin is that she might pray unimpededly to her Lord: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body andin spirit. Now this I say for your benefit, not to hold you in check, but to promote what is proper, and to make it possible for you to pray to the Lord without distraction." 34 Catholic tradition traces a long history in its apprecia-tion of the relationship between virginity and contempla-tion. Gazing upon the loveliness of the Lord is the virgin's one occupation: When you begin to seek Him, 0 virgin, I-Ie is present, for ¯ it is impossible that He should be absent from those who de-sire Him.Pursue Christ, 0 virgin, in your light, in your holy meditations, in your good works that shine before your Father who is in heaven. Seek Him at night, seek Him in your cell because He comes at night and knocks at your door. lie wishes you to be watching at all times and to find the door of your heart open. See to it, 0 virgin, that you diligently de-vote yourseff to prayer.= Being a life of knowing and loving, consecrated chastity renders the human person more like the divine: The pursuit of virginity, it seems to me, eemarked St. Gregory of Nyssa [himseff a married man], is an art and a power to lead a more divine life and it teaches how we who are bound by the bonds of the body may become similar to spiritual beings. The intent and purpose of this life is wholly = 1 Cor 6:19-20. u 1 Cor 7:34-5. =.St. Ambrose, Exhortatio virginitatis, cc. 9 and 10; P.L. 16:353, 357. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to preserve the loftiness of the soul from being lowered by the onslaught of pleasures and to keep us who should be contem-plating and gazing upon divine and heavenly truth from lapsing into the mere inclinations of the body.8~ Hence, the virginal life is a living for the soul alone and that i~ why it may be termed angelic: the virgin contemplates the Father of perfect integrity and by gaz-ing upon His beauty becomes herself more beautiful: This is to live for the soul alone, namely, that one insofar as he can should imitate the manner of life of those powers who have no bodies, for these neither marry nor are given in marriage. But this is their intent, purpose, and perfect duty: to contemplate the Father of immaculate integrity and as far as imitation is possible to ~nhance their own beauty by gazing on the exemplar of beauty itself,~ From the negative point of view perfect purity makes indwelling converse easy in that it frees a man from the absorbing distractions of bodily pleasures. "If the human mind," writes St. Cyril of Alexandria, "is burdened and immersed in the pleasures of the flesh, it cannot look up to God, nor can it with a fixed gaze contemplate His deeds." as It follows, then, that the virgin's dominating occupa-tion according to the pure stream of Catholic tradition is contemplating the beauty of her Lover. "If therefore you have declined the nuptials of the sons of men from which you would have begotten sons of men," Augustine admonishes her, "love Him with your whole heart who is beautiful beyond the sons of men. You are free, your hearts are untied by the bonds of marriage. Contemplate the beauty of your Lover. Reflect on Him who is equal to His Father and subject to His Mother, ruling in heaven and serving on earth, creating all things, created [that is, human nature] among all things." a~ It is in this finality that we find the root cause for the sublime dignity of the virginal consecration: "That which more effec-tively disposes one for the most noble act is itself the more praiseworthy. But that which most effectively fits one for the act of contemplation--in which the highest purity is needed---is virginity." ,0 St. Thomas writes in the same thought pattern: "For this reason does holy virginity abstain from all venereal pleasure that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contemplation." 41 St. Gregory of Nyssa, De vlrginitate, c. 5; P.G. 25:273. Ibid., c. 4; P.G. 25:273. In lsaiam, 1, orat. 3; P.G. 37:78. De sancta virginitate, c. 54; P.L. 40:427-8. ~°St. Bonaventure, De perlectione evangelica, q.3, a.3: "Quod magis disponit ad actum nobilissimum est laudabilius; sed ad actum contemplationis, in quo requirit~r maxima puritas, magis disponit virginitas." 2-2, q.152, a.2 c: "Ad hoc autem pia virginitas ab omni delec-tatlone venerea abstinet, ut liberius divinae contemplationi vacet." In this light we can appreciate more fully St. Ambrose's charming axiom that "wherever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God," and St. Jerome's judgment that "never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." If the whole raison d'etre of the virginal dedication is a loving contemplation of the Trinity, surely the chaste virgin is both a sign of the indwelling mystery and the person best disposed by state to live it, Sacramentality oI Virginity To appreciate the sign or witness value of virginity we must first touch briefly on the sacramentality of our supernatural economy. In a broad sense of the term, sacrament may be referred to any visible reality that in one way or another proclaims the divine reality. It implies a kind of wedding between the visible and the invisible whereby the latter is declared by the former. In this sense the whole universe is a gigantic sacrament of God for "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork." 42 But the term can have stricter meanings; and it bears the most rich of them when it is applied to the incarnate Word, the sacrament of God. This Sign is the God He proclaims: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God: and the Word was God. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. And we saw his glory--glory as of the only-begotten of the Father4z . In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bod-ily." 44 As the Church sings in her Christmas Preface, "while we know this God visibly we are by Him rapt up to a love of invisible goods." The Church, too, is herself a sacrament of Christ for she is mystically identified with .Him and proclaims Him to the world: "As the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, many as they are, form one body, so also is it with Christ4n.He who hears you, hears me.''46 Sacred Scripture likewise possesses a sacramentality, since as the Word assumed human flesh in Mary's womb, so does He assume human speech in the womb of the hagiographers' minds. Through these human words the Word can make us burn with love for God: "And they said to each other, 'Was not our heart burning within us while he was speaking on the road and explaining to us the Ps 18:2. ISJn 1:1,14. Col 2:9. 1 Cot 12:12. Lk 10:16. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 29 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOus Scriptures?' " 47 The sacramentals, too, are obviously sacramental because they consist in a visible rite that somehow influences a supernatural effect. But most com-monly do we apply the term, sacrament, to our seven sacred signs that themselves produce the grace they sig-nify. In this whole orchestra of the sacramental universe the divine wisdom and goodness and power shine through. Because man is a composed being, he goes to his God by composed means. Man is an invisible-visible unit and so he rises to the fountain of all by invisible-visible sacra-nlents. In this extended sense of the word a virgin is a sacra-ment in her very dedicated person: St. Ambrose recorded sixteen centuries ago that on the occasion of receiving the veil of virginal consecration Marcellina heard the words, "[your Spouse] bestowed on you the pure sacra-ment of virginity." 48 We. think that Ambrose's thought was either that the veil is a sign of virginity or that as Marcellina was being dedicated to perfect purity she became a sign to the world of divine realities, and espe-cially that she became a virgin-sign, that is, a person representing total surrender to the Trinity. St. Gregory of Nyssa likewise saw a kind of sacramental meaning to virginity: "The virginal life.s~ems to be a certain image of that future immortality of beatitude. The virgin enjoys in this life the goods that shall be our supreme good at the resurrection." 49 Though he does not use the word, sacrament, Pope Plus XII c/early taught the sacramentality of virginity when he assigned the terms "image" and "sign" to de-scribe the virgin's witnessing function before the world: It surely, redounds without doubt to the highest glory of virgins that they are living images o[ that perfect integrity by Which the Church is joined to her divine Spouse. For this So-ciety founded by Jesus Christ it is a supreme joy that these same women are a marvelous sign of that flourtshing sanctity and spiritual fecundity for which she is eminent. Cyprian wrote well of this when he said: "They are the flower of that ec-clesial bud, the beauty and adornment of spiritual grace, a reason for our joy, a fresh and untainted work of praise and honor, an image of God corresponding to the holiness of the *~ Lk 24:32. At the turn of the first century St. Ignatius of Antioch already recognizes a special power in biblical words when he speaks of himself as "confugiens ad evangelium tamquam ad corporaliter praesentem Christum"--"fleeing to the gospel as to the bodily presence of Christ" (Ad Phila., 5, 1; P.G. 3:681). ~De virgin(bus, bk. 3, c. l; P.L. 16:219-20: "In te quoque sin-cerum sacramentum conferet [Sponsus] virginitatis." Ambrose was probably here using the term "sacrament" as Augustine defined it: Signa, "cure ad res divinas pertinent, sacramenta appellantur" (Letter 138, c. 1, n. 7; P.L. 35:527). ~° De virginitate, c. 13; P.G. 25:290. Lord, the more illustrious portion of the Lord's flock. The Church rejoices in them and the glorious fruitfulness of this Mother abundantly flourishes in them. The more the number of virgins grows, the more does the joy of this Mother increaseY In what ways is the virgin a witness-sign to the world? Sign o[ God-centeredness The doctrine of the divine indwelling in the souls of the just is undoubtedly a doctrine of God-centeredness. The whole aim of its preparation in the Old Testament and its revelation in the New is to impel men to an intimacy with the triune God. By being so close, so deli-cately close that He is within, he is asking each man to develop the kind of spiritual life that will prompt him sincerely to shout all his days: One thing I ,ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord.As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?~a The consecrated virgin is a sign that man must seek God as his all. Her whole being proclaims that human life must be orientated to the divine alone, for she is what she is precisely that she may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord, that she may unimpededly thirst for Him and be-hold His face. There are two elements involved in a dedicated vir-ginity. The first is a bodily integrity by which one has never committed .a complete and voluntary act against the virtue of purity nor has contracted and used marriage. The virginal body is whole, integral. The second element is the firm and pious will to abstain forever from any voluntary venereal pleasure. The will is firm by its vow and it is pious by its supernatural motive for the vow. Thus an adolescent who has never sinned seriously against chastity is integral in body but does not thereby enjoy the state of consecrated virginity, for even though the material element (b, odily incorruption) is present, the ~o Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 173-4. St. lsidore of Seville long ago saw the virgin as a sign of the Church: "Since the Church her-self is a virgin espoused to one Man, as the Apostle says, how much greater is the dignity of her members who preserve in the flesh what the whole Church preserves in her purpose?" (De ecclesiastids ol~iciis, bk. 2, c. 18; P.L. 83:804-5). Even earlier St. Augustine had said that "the whole Church is called a virgin" Enarratio in Ps. 147, n. 10; P.L. 37:1920. Vatican II, of course, frequently recalls the wit-nessing value of the evangelical counsels. ~1 Ps 26:4; 41:2-3. 4- 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ~.968 31 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS formal.element (the intention of dedicating this integrity forever to God)is absent.5~ ~ The virgin is a sign of God, centeredness as regards both elements in her consecration. Her bodily integrity is'a peaceful and pure self-preservation for Him alone. Her intimate being is a garden enclosed. Her body 'that knows no voluntary disturbance of passion itself declares that God alone can have her, that the indwelling Trinity can abide in the tranquil garden that she, is. Such. is the thought of Paul when he says that "the virgin thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be hol~ in body and in spirit." Her chaste flesh is itself a. sign,: of concern with the Lord. Especially is she the sacred temple of the Trinity: "Holy is the temple of God, and :this temple you are." 5s The spiritual or formal element in th~ virgi.nal con.s.e-cration is likewise a sign to flae world of God-centered-ness. By her firm and pious will to give her heart to no other lover the virgin proclaims to all who will .hear that God alone is the objec.t of her concern and attention. This perpetual resolve declares in a per.fect~ manner the cruciality of God in the Christian life: "Ofie t~hing I ask of the Lord. that I may gaze on the loveliness of the' Lord." 54 It declares that the virgin is a. sign to men that all must love Him with a whole heart; a whole soul, a whole mind. She is a sacrament illustrative of Psalm 118:10: "With all my heart I seek you." To her especially does this God say: "You are precious in my eyes and glorious. I love you." ~ ~ Sign of Indwelling Mystery The divine inhabitation is an interpersonal intimacy between God and man effected by supernatural love and consummated by supematu[al joy: "If you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to dwell with you for-ever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot re~'e.ive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. BUt you shall know him, because he will dw.ell with you, and be in you. If anyone love me~ he will k~ep .my word, and my Father will love hin~, and we will come' to. him and make our abode with him. 2. Abidd ifi my love'.'. These things I have spoken to you that.my ]oy. may be in. you, and that your joy may be made lull. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God .in him r~ Because the religious vow' of chastity is not a vow of gi~ginit~, a non-Virgin~ can become a religious and can even share by her com-plete selLdonation in the sign character of the ~irgin. ~ 1 Cor 3:17. ~ u Ps 26:4. . M Is 43:4. ¯. The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Look to him that you may be radiant with joy. Taste and see how good the Lord is." 56 Yes, our mystery is a love-delight mystery. And such precisely is the virgin's forte. She is a virgin in order to love with an undivided heart, and she receives a hundredfold of love and delight by giving up all for her Spouse: ',Everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or Wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life everlasting. Because she can love unimpededly she can also more easily attain the ofuilness of joy that stems from love: "Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~s Hence, our basic argument is simple: love. for God is closely interwoven with the indwelling mystery; the virgin is a virgin precisely to love; therefore, the virgin as a virgin is somehow woven into the indwelling mystery. She is a sign of it. This same truth stands out from another point of view¯ The divine inhabitation consecrates a persgn, puri-fies and spiritualizes the body: "Holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are. They who are adcording to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit . You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you." ~9 When Paul comes to admonish the Corinthians to live chastely he caps a list of reasons (the resurrection of the body, membership in the Body of Christ, union with the Lord) with an appeal to the divine inabiding: "Do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have fxom God?" 50 Purity and the divine presence are intimately related. Virginity, therefore, as the loftiest type of purity is par excellence related to the indwelling mystery. We may say that the consecrated virgin is the visible sacrament of the indwelling: "Wher-ever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." It follows, then, that the virginal temple enjoys a singular splendor, shines with a' particular beauty be-cause of the Trinity abiding within. Especially true of her is the encomium of Yahweh: "You were exceedingly beautiful, with the dignity of a queen¯ You Were re-nowned among the nations for. your beauty," perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I had bestowed on ~U7J nM 1t 41:91:259-7. ,28; 15:9,11; 1 Jn 4:16; Rom 5:5; Ps $$:6,9. ~1 Cor 2:9. ~ 1 Cot 8:17; Rom 8:5,9. ~ ! Cor 6:19. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968" ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS you, says the Lord God." 01 When she is a religious, her habit likewise shares in the sign character of her consecra-tion, since it proclaims that she is the set-aside property of the Trinity, that the habit encloses a temple beautiful by its tranquil purity. Sign o[ God's Cosmic Primacy The incarnation has wedded the uncreated to the created. It has raised the entire universe to a new level, a new sacredness, a new unity with its Author. All things are restored in the Christ, the Sacrament of God. Yet God still does enjoy a primacy in this new and sacred unity, a primacy by which He infinitely transcends the cosmos, a primacy by which the latter must not inter-fore with His glory, a primacy by which all else is orien-tated to His praise. One of the most radical (in both senses of "root" and "drastic") doctrinal themes in the gospels is the idea of voluntary poverty. It permeates the whole like an atmos-phere and it is so uncompromising that it must come as a shock to anyone who takes it seriously: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it is made fruitless. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where rust and moth con-sume, and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither rust nor moth consume, nor thieves break in and steal. For where thy treasure is, there also will thy heart be . The foxes have dens, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me . Amen I say to you, with difficulty will a rich man enter the kingdom of heaven. And further I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Woe to you richl for you are now having your comfort. Woe to you who are filledl for you shall hunger. Carry neither purse, nor wallet, nor sandals. Take heed and guard yourselves from all covetousness, for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Every one of you who does not renounce all'that he possesses cannot be my disciple. You cannot serve God and mammon." 82 Whatever else these thunderbolts may be, they are not platitudes. Evangelical poverty is mani-festly an exchange of the cosmos for God. = Ez 16:13-4. ~ Mt 5:3; 13:22; 6:19-21; 8:20; 19:21,23-:4~ ;,Lk 6:24-5i 10:4; 12:15; 14:33; 16:13. The virgin is a poverty-~ign. She is a sacrament of the divine primacy in creation. Bodily integrity, of .course, has in itself no obvious connection with poverty, but consecrated integrity in the special supernatural economy in which we live does possess a relationship. This tieup is visible not only in the life of the virginal Holy Family and in the actual structure of the religious life of .the Church but also in the traditional thought of her teach-ers. St. Gregory of Nyssa writes of the fourth-century vir-gins together with his sister, Macrina, that "such was their life that every human v?nity was foreign to them and hence their life closely resembled that of the angels. They found their delight in temperance; they reckoned as their glory to be known by no one and their riches to possess nothing." 6z Pope Plus XII writes in the same vein when he say that a virginity consecrated to Christ is witness to a faith in the kingdom of heaven,~* and when he asks the rhetorical question: Are not sacred virgins who dedicate their lives to the service ¯ of the poor and the sick with no distinction as to race, social position, or religion, are not these virgins intimately united to their miseries and hardships and are they not most warmly attached to the poor as tho .ugh they were their actual mothers? ~ This same truth that dedicated chastity is a poverty-sign of God's primacy is borne out by a consideration of the nature of the dedication. If a virgin gives up a greater good, marriage, for the sake of serving God more effec-tiyely, it is only logical that she will give up lesser goods, material, possessions, for the same reason. She is, there-fore, a sign to the world that God comes first in the uni-verse, that He transcends not only human love but also non-human things. She is a living sign in the flesh pro-claiming to each man by her being: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." ~ Her poverty declares by fact if not by word that "God is my riches." By it she may ask: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am wit.l~ you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of m~] heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." ~ -How is the virgin's poverty made a visible sign of the Trinity's primacy in the cosmos? How does her inner love of the indwelling God and her detachment from things not God appear to the world? Life of St. Macrina, P.G. 25:596. Plus XlI, Sacra virginitas, p. 172. Ibid., p. 178. Mt 22:~7. Ps 75:25-6,28. 4. + 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ].9~B ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 36 First of all, she loves the poor and the downtrodden. She favors them, prefers to serve them because her Master was one of them. The world can see through her involve-ment with the havenots that God, not things are her concern. Sheknows that "he sins who despises the hungry; but happy is he who is kind to the poorl" She is aware that "he who oppresses the poor blasphemes his Maker, but he who is kind to the needy glorifies him." 6s Secondly, in her personal life she is as factually poor as her vocation permits. Simplicity shines out in her manner of life, in her convent, its furnishings, her habit. Her food is plain and she takes it in moderation and detachment. She has gladly deprived herself of superfluities and is a picture of a godly contentment. She has subscribed to Paul's thought: "Godliness with contentment is indeed great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and certainly .we can take nothing out; but having food and sufficient clothing, with these let us be content." 69 She welcomes the sufferings of deprivations when they occur and she is happily satisfied with them according to. the doctrine and practice of the Apostles: "Beloved, do not be startled at the trial by fire that is taking place among you to prove you, as if something strange were happening to you; but rejoice, insofar as you are partakers of the sufferings of Christ, that you may also rejoice with exul-tation in the revelation of his glory. Calling in the apostles and having thdm scourged, they charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and then let them go. So they departed from the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Jesus." T0 She avoids worldly amusements: "Do not love the world," she says to her-self, "or the things that are in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father isnot in him." 71 She is a sacrament that declares to those who will listen: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~z Sign oI Feminine Dignity Since the fall it has been difficult for mankind to allot to woman her proper place in the divine scheme. Even she herself often does not see itand even more often does not live according to it. The virginal temple of the Ho!y Spirit is an existential sermon declaring to the world the Prov 14:21,31. Tim 6:6-8. Pt 4:12-3; Acts 5:40-1. Jn 2:15. Cot 2:9. personal worth of woman before God even aside from her natural maternal function in society. The virgin proclaims in her being woman's great nat-ural and supernatural intellectual value. Historically and aside from the influence of revelation woman has been looked upon largely as a means to man's welfare and pleasure. A naturalistic world lays great stock by her physical beauty when and while she has it and seems to feel that it is her main contribution to society. When after a decade or two her visible attractiveness has waned, interest in one is replaced by interest in another. On the other hand, by her charming modesty and evangelical poverty the Christian virgin is a living witness to woman's worth as an end. She deem.phasizes physical beauty to make the world realize~that it is secondary; that a woman is valuable especially because of her in-tellect and will; that she is a person, not a tool; that she has much to contribute to the good of mankind by her spiritual qualities tinted as they are with feminine traits; that she, too, no less than her male counterpart is es-pecially to spend herself in pursuing God: O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water. Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory, for your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify youY The virgin underlines likewise the fresh beauty of womanly integrity and purity. She asserts in her person the blessedness of the pure of heart, the happiness of those who live an untainted life. She silently proclaims the angelic lot of the elect: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage,' but will be as angels of God in heaven." 74 Even if the virginal temple of the Trinity were never to enter a classroom, never to make an apostolic visit to the poor, never to walk a hos-pital corridor, she nevertheless is a witness to the charm of a pure womanhood and the dignity of unsullied in-tegrity. The virgin is a sign of supernatural motherhood. She has declined a natural fecundity only to embrace a loftier, more universaI fruitfuIness. Like her Spouse, she has come that men "may have life, and have it more abun-dantly." ~ There are, of course, two kinds of birth and therefore two kinds of life to be conceived and nourished: "Unless a man be born again of water and the Spirit, he. cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the ~ Ps 62:2-4. ¢~ Mt 22:30. ~ Jn 10:10. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 37 ÷ 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Spirit is spirit." r8 Somehow God has deigned to .share this supernatural parenthood with ~man, for the latter can say: "My dear children, with whom I am in labor again, unti! Christ is formed in you." 7r The dedicated virgin is a mother; she is a sign of a superior feminine fecundity because her maternity surpasses a natural ma-ternity. 7s The Church implies this superiqrity when she sings on Holy Saturday night: "It would have profited us nothing to be born unless we had also been redeemed." The virgin, then, is a witness to the fact that the ecclesial apostolate can be feminine, that the woman's motherly traits and desires are fulfilled in the supernatural order as well as in the natural. She is once again a sign of feminine dignity. Sign of Love lor M'en To the casual observer the religious is a woman who seems devoid of anything, one might call a living love for men; and yet if she is anything at all to the world, she is a lover of it. We may go so far as to say she is so much a lover of men that she is a sign set up among the nations of how we should love our fellows. Three revealed premises lead us to this conclusion. The first is that the mark that sets the supernatural man apart from his natural counterpart is the Christlike love he has for his neighbor: "By this will all men know [it is a sign] that you are my disciples, if you have love for one an-other." 79 The second is that one is essentially a super-natural man by a double love, for God and for neighbor: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the sec-ond is like it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," s0 The third is that the virgin is of all people the undivided lover of God, and ,hence of neighbor also: "He who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the un-married woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." sl If the love of God and neighbor are inseparable,s2 and if the consecrated x;irgin is wholly devoted to love of .God, she cannot avoid being devoted by profession to love of ~ Jn 3:5-6. ~7 Gal 4:19. ~S,,Truly and solidly does the virgin mother rejoice, for she by her spiritual work gives birth to immortal children" (St. Gregory of Nyssa, De virginitate, e. 13; P.G. 25:289). r~ Jn 13:35. *~ Mt 22:37-9. ~ 1 Cor 7:33-4. ~ 1 Jn 4:20-1. neighbor. And furthermore, if this latter love is the sign of a disciple, she is especially a sign. The history of consecrated virginity confirms our rea-soning process. The pages of the Church's apostolic jour-nal are replete with the extraordinary loves of extraordi-nary women. If actions clamor more loudly than words, we must reckon these consecrated women among the greatest lovers of men the world has seen. Any list must be incomplete, but we need think only of Eustochium, Macrina, Catherine of Alexandria, Clare, Catherine of Siena, Angela Merici, Margaret Marie, Teresa of Avila. The world needs the lofty love these dedicated persons exemplify. Parents easily love their'children on a natural plane, but not so easily on the supernatural. Often na-tions react toward one another on the basis of deception and intrigue, very often on that of a cold diplomacy more or less mingled with justice, seldom with a supernatural love. The world desperately needs the love-sign of the consecrated virgin. She is a fresh flower in a sandy desert. Sacrament of Contemplation "For this reason does a holy virginity abstain from every venereal pleasure, that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contempIation." sn In such manner does St. Thomas summarize Catholic thought on the finality of perfect purity. In the Christian economy one does not embrace chastity to avoid something evil, to shirk re-sponsibility, to attain a natural peace and security. These reasons are either inadequate or plainly wrong. Complete chastity is aimed at peaceful prayer: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord." Just as the virgin is a sign of the primacy of God and of the indwelling mystery itself, so is she a sign that converse with the Trinity is man's primary occupation. The virgin is a sacrament of contemplation for several reasons. Her contemplative love is reserved for God alone: "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him." s~ She has given her heart to no other lover. The virgin rests in God only. Though all men should be able to join the Psalmist in saying, "Only in God be at rest, mysoul," s5 the virgin is most likely to say it and to live according to it. She has given up the comforts of marriage and family. God is her rest and comfort, for indeed He is "the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." s~ s~ 2-2, q.152, a.2. ~ 1 Jn 4:16. ~ Ps 61:6. sa2 (;or 1:3. Vlrginat Temples ÷ ÷ ÷ Thom~ Dubay, $.M~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The virgin delights in God. In her particularly and in ~/lofty manner are fulfilled the sentiments of the Psalmist when he declares: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." s7 She especially o£ all men can say: "Whom else have I and whom else could I want who have All?" She especially can say: "The earth delights me not, and I have proven it by giving up the earth, for You only have I chosen, You only are the rock of my heart and my por-tion forever." She especially is likely to assert: "But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge--I have chosen no other good, no other refuge." ¯ The virgin calmly contemplates her virginal God. St. Gregory Nazianzen back in the fourth century reflected the eastern persuasion of an absolute value in virginity (aside from .its benefits after the fall), when he remarked that "the first virgin is the holy Trinity." ss It is perfectly true that the divine processions are completely without passion or loss of integrity, for the divine nature is the purest spirit. The family joy of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is most pure, most tranquil, most integral, most supreme. The virgin's contemplation is a reflection of it. She gazes on the virginal loveliness of the Trinity purely, calmly, integrally, supremely: "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." S9 She is the sacrament of divine contemplation. Sign of Final Victory The culmination and summation of the sign character of a holy virginity is the body-soul triumph of eternity. Virginity is eschatological. It points not to earth but to heaven, not to time but to eternity, not to the place of struggle .but to that of victory. Of the relatively few men-tions of virginity in the New Testament it is significant that at least three of them refer to the Ultimate triumph. Jesus describes the life of perfegt purity as angelic and heavenly: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage, but will be as angels of God in heaven." a0 St. Paul explicitly ties up detachment with the parousia--or at least with each man's individual death---' and the parousia with the motivation behind a dedicated purity: s~ Ps 72:25-6,28. ss Poema 1; P.G. 21:287-8. s~ Ps 26:4. ~e Mt 22:$0. But this I say, brethren, the time is short; ifremains that those who have wives b~ as if they had none; and thos~ who weep, as though not weeping; and those who rejoice, as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as we see it is passing away. I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit.~ St. John assigns to virgins a select place in the celestial life with the risen Lamb of God: "These follow the Lamb wherever he goes. These were purchased from among men, first-fruits unto God and unto the Lamb, and in their mouth there was found no lie; they are without blemish." 02 What is the final victory and how is the virgin an image ~f it? Essentially the triumph is the beatific vision in a risen body, the face-to-face, supremely delightful sight of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 93 This is the victory of all victories: to attain the ineffable joy of clasping unending Loveableness, Beauty in an unending embrace. The virgin is the sign of this embrace. The vir-gin is the sign of this embrace because even on earth she has begun the embrace in her undivided heart and in the most effective way open to her. 'She is a virgin precisely to contemplate the Trinity. "One thing," she proclaims by profession, "I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." ~4 Her earthly con-templation is imperfect to be sure; it is not intuitive; but it is the beginning of the end. She is a sign of this essential beatitude because her virgina! joys in God are a prelude and sketch of the joys all the children of men shall even-tually have in God when they are neither married nor given in marriage. The otherworldiness of her life of ~1 1 Cur -34. ~ Apoc 14:4-5. It is not clear whether virginity is meant here strictly or metaphorically. ~ 1 Cur 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; 1 Cur 2:9. This last text refers to super-natural wisdom through faith and/or the beatific glory through vision. ~ Ps 26:4. 4. 4. 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 41 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS poverty and purity shouts to men that we have not here a lasting city, that we are a pilgrim people. As we shall note in a later article, one of the accidental triumphs of eternity due to the indwelling Trinity is the victory of the risen body over our passible body: There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also. with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corrup-tion rises in incorruption; what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body. For this corruptible body must put on incorrupdon, and this mortal body must. put on immortality. But when this mortal body puts on immortal-ity, then shall come to pass the word that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victoryl" ~ This splendid victory, this glorious resurrection of the human frame is due to the indwelling presence of the vivifying Spirit: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 06 Though the virgin's body does not yet enjoy supernatural agility, nor immortality, nor brilliance, it does begin to share in the victory to come and it is surely a sign of it. By her consecrated purity she has freed herself from the unruly disturbances attendant on even the good use of marriage and so she is an image of the bodily calm that shall be the lot of all men in the heavenly city. Further-more, the being of all temples of the indwelling Trinity is somehow spiritualized even while they are on earth: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwelIs in you." 0r This burning Fire of love elevates in some mysterious manner the being of fallen men by abiding within. Because of her eschatologi-cal orientation the virgin temple is an apt sign of this incipient purification, elevation, spiritualization effected by the Spirit on earth as a preparation for the complete purification, elevation, spiritualization of heaven. Because she is a sacrament of things to come the con-secrated virgin should be an example to men of the in-carnational detachment so beautifully formulated by St. Paul. She looks and lives for eternity: "We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 0s Because she is living for the risen body and the intuitive vision of the Trinity, she has a taste for heavenly things, not worldly ones: "If you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above," ~1 Cor 15:41-4,58-~. ~Rom 8:11. ~ ,Rom 8:9. ~1 Cor 4:18. she says by her life, "where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth." ~ When we see her religious garb we are reminded that because the time is short, "those who rejoice [are to :be] as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as .we see it is passing away." 100 She teaches us by her set-aside position in the world that our all-absorbing yearning must be finally to. see the face of God: "As the hind longs, for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?" 101 The virgin, then, is a temple of the Trinity, at once in the world but not of it, crucified but refreshed, a lover of men but first a lover of God,~ beautifully plain without but even more beautifully charming within, busy at work but intent on contemplation, occupied on earth but orientated to heaven. For she bears heaven in her breast. (to be continued) ~ Col 3:1-2. ~o 1 Cor 7:30.-I. lox Ps 41:2-3. .4" + + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 JAMES I. O'CONNOR, S.J. Alienation of Manuscripts and Works of Art James I. O'Con-nor, $.J., is professor. of canon law at Bel-larmine $chool of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illi-nois 60542. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Teilhard de Chardin's writings have been receiving considerable attention and study in recent years. Very naturally, this interest in his works has spread to the man himsel[ and his life. Among the events reported about his life is that he consulted two canonists as to whether or not he as a professed religious could lawfully appoint a literary executor to whom he would bequeath his manuscripts and whom he would leave free to dis-pose of them as he saw fit. The report never indicates who the canonists were. Neither is any reason or justifi-cation given for their alleged affirmative reply to Teil-hard's question. Whether or not this story about Teilhard de Chardin has been the occasion, if not the cause, of other re-ligious raising the same or a related question, the fact remains that the issue of the'right of a professed re-ligious to alienate manuscripts he has written is being asked frequently. From this question it is an easy step to another question: May a professed religious alienate works of art created by the religious? Alienation is any act whereby the right of ownership, in whole or in part, is transferred to another person. Thus, alienation is had, for example, by selling the property in question, or by giving it away, or by ex-changing it for another piece of property of like or dif-ferent nature. In all tl~ese instances, the owner has com-pletely surrendered his title or ownership of the original property, whether or not he received anything in re-turn. The basic issue in the question of alienation of manu- \ scripts or works of art produced by a professed religious is whether such an act falls under his vow of poverty or, on the contrary, is it outside the scope of the vow of poverty. Before attempting to answer this question, yet an-other question must be posed: Do the manuscripts or works of art have a money value? For the present, only manuscripts will be considered; works of art will be discussed aRerwards. Manuscripts To the final question above, the Salamanca theolo-gians equivalently gave a very definite negative reply and very strongly defended complete ownership by a religious of his manuscripts. They expressed themselves in this fashion: You will ask whether a professed religious has real control over his manuscripts to such an extent that he can carry them with him wherever he goes, give them away, burn them, or exercise in their regard any other act which are functions characteristic of a proprietor? The reply is in the affirmative, whether the manuscripts are his own or given him by some-body else, whether the result of his own work or that of some-body else. Further, without permission of his prelate, he may dispose of them in view. of.his own death. This is true because manuscripts, inasmuch as they are the ideas of his mind, are something spiritual. Moreover, since the accessory partakes of the nature of the primary, and since manuscripts are acces-sories to knowledge as flowing from it and begotten by it, hnd are an aid to it, therefore, lust as knowledge does not fall under the vow of poverty, neither do manuscripts. As a result, a re-ligious can become their owner. Furthermore and finally, this is true because this is the [~ractice, common usage, and custom even of reformed religious institutes.1 St. Alphonsus Liguori also gave a negative reply to that final question above. He defended his opinion because manuscripts are something spiritual since they are products of one's genius, ,e, ven though elaborated by outside endeavor; and because the3 pertain to the field of knowledge, which does not come under the vow of poverty; and because this is the common practice.--This explains the brief of Benedict XIII that religious who have been promoted to the episcopacy must turn over to their superiors all their prop.ert.y except their manuscripts. Moreover, in Sporer's work, it is stated that Clement VIII expressly declared that religious may, of their own volition, alienate their manuscripts, even without permission. [Contin.] Tournely believes the same thing pro-vided that--in this he agrees with others--other provision is not set down in the constitutions of the order."~ Sporer was a Franciscan Recollect who wrote a work a Collegii Salmanticensis Cursus theologiae moralis (Venice: Pez-zana, 1764), tract. XII, cap. II, punct. XII, n. 195. Note: All translations in this article are those of the author ex-cept translations of canons; these are taken from the authorized English version (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1919). = Theologia moralis (Rome: Typographia Vaticana, 1907), ed. Gaud~, tom. 2, lib. IV, cap. 1, n. 14. Alienation VOLUME 27, ~.968 ÷ ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS also entitled Theologia moralis. To Sporer's writings a supplement to his treatment of the matter of the Ten Commandments was added by Kilian Kazenberger, also a Franciscan Recollect. It is in this supplement that is found the reference made by St: Alphonsus and it reads as follows: It is a highly probable opinion that a religious is master of his manuscripts and that he can dispose of them at will. Writ-ings are, as it were, part of his knowledge and acquired learn-ing. Therefore, just as the religious can take along with him his knowledge and learning or can communicate it to another, so also can he do it with his own writings. These are nothing more than the ideas of a man philosoph!z!ng. As a result, the religious has direct control over his wnungs themselves but only indirect control over the paper, because control over the writings cannot be exercised without paper. And this is why, on the word of Corolianus, Tract. de Casious Resets., p. 2, casu 16, num. 19, Clement VIII declared that religious can alienate their manuscripts without p~rmission, notwithstanding his own bulla on Bestowal oI Properties? The bulla or constitution of Clement VIII referred to is that beginning with the words Religiosae congrega-tiones, 4 dated 19 June, 1594. In it the pope had pro-hibited donations of any kind by reiigious to any per-son outside the religious order and no exception was anywhere made in it for manuscripts written by a re-ligious. While a number of writers state that Clement VIII said that religious retain full ownership over their man-uscripts even to the extent that they also possess the right to alienate them,-nobody, as many later com-mentators point out, offers any proof that Clement VIII ever said what is ascribed to him. One author just re-fers to another author, for example, St. Alphonsus re-fers to the Sporer supplement, which, in turn, refers to Corolianus, but no one gives any data to prove Cle-ment VIII said or wrote anything other than what he set forth in his constitution Religiosae congregationes. The reference to Benedict XIII in St. Alphonsus' commentary cited above does not prove that the manu-scripts of a religious do not fall under the vow of poverty. So far from proving St. Alphonsus' poin.t is the document of Benedict XIII that it proves the con-trary, namely, that manuscripts per se do fall under the vow of poverty. In § 5 of the document, Postulat humili-tati nostrae,5 the pope prohibits any religious promoted ~Patritius Sporer, Theologia moralis: Supplementum theologiae moralis decalogalis (Venice: Pezzana, 1731), cap. II, .sect. III, n. 149. 4 Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 10, pp. 146-50; ed. Mainardi, tom. 5, pars 2, pp. ~I-3. ~St. Alphonsus identifies the document of Benedict XIiI in the place cited in Iootnote 2 in n. 15 in the paragraph beginning "Praefatam autem." The document itself, dated 7 March, 1725, is to the episcopacy or other ecclesiastical dignity from taking with him "books, money, goods entrusted to them or deposited with them, and any kind whatever of movable or immovable goods, except his writings, clothing, and breviary." e The writings or manuscripts of the religious are excepted from all the previous items, all of which certainly pertain to the vow of poverty as do also the other two exceptions, namely, his clothing and his breviary. Furthermore, no authorization is given by Benedict XIII to a religious to alienate his manu-scripts. While, according to the Salamanca theologians and St. Alphonsus, it was the common opinion of the time that manuscripts did not come within the scope of the vow of poverty, there were prominent authors defending the opposite side of the question. Thus Peter M. Pas-serinus de Sextula, O.P., writing in 1663, holds that a religious has no ownership over his manuscripts as far as alienation of them is concerned, although the re-ligious does have the right to use his own manuscripts and to carry them away with him. There were also some commentators who distin-guished between manuscripts which had a money value and those which had no money value but simply served as aids to memory for their authorY The latter type of manuscripts would not form matter of the vow of pov-erty. The dispute as to whether the manuscripts of a re-ligious come under his vow of poverty, especially as regards alienation of them, remained, until the present century, practically as it was at the time of St. A1phon-sus. s In 1911, an indication of the Holy See's viewpoint in the matter appeared in the reply to a question proposed to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "II, If superiors have forbidden the publication of some manuscript, or if the imprimatur has been denied, may religious turn over the said manuscript to some publisher who will publish it with the imprimatur of his [the publisher's] local ordinary and suppress the author's name?" The re-ply given on 15 June, 1911 was: "In the negative." 9 found in Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 22, pp. 129-33; ed. Mainardi, tom. 11, pp. 377-80. ~ Italics are in the original document. 7 De hominum statibus el ol~iciis, q. 186, a. 7, n. 412, referred to in Franciscus X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University, 1933), tom. III, n, 349, b). s A. Vermeersch, S.J., De religiosis institutis et personis (Bruges: Beyaert, 1907), tom. 1, n. 254. ~Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 3 (1911), pp. 270-1; also in Fontes Codicis iuris canonici, n. 4410. Question I of this inquiry had asked if religious in simple vows needed an imprimatur to publish their 4, 4, 4, Al~natlon VOLUME 27, 1968 47 ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Co~nor~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Slightly over two years later, another question was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "Do religious, whether in solemn vows or in simple vows, who have produced a manuscript during the dme of their vows, have ownership of it to such an extent that they can give it away or alienate it by any title whatever?" The full assembly of the cardinals of the Sacred Congregation discussed the question and finally decided: "In the negative." This decision was reported to and confirmed by Pope Pius X on 13 July, 1913.l° Thereafter all commentators maintained that no re-ligious, whether he has solemn vows or simple vows, may perform any act of alienation of his manuscripts if those manuscripts have a money value. On the other hand, the common opinion was that all religious, even those in solemn vows, may retain their own manuscripts for their own intellectual or spiritual life.ix That 1913 decision was embodied in canon 580, § 2 of the Code of Canon Law in the following terms: "What-ever the religious acquires by his own industry., be-longs to the institute." Moreover, the sources of that section of that canon explicitly cite the 1913 decision. As a result, the ownership of manuscripts produced by professed religious and having a money value belong to his community. Consequently, he may not dispose of them without authorization from a superior competent to grant such authorization. A few authors raise some related issues. Thus Coro-nata12 observes and cites a number of other authors as also noting that a religious has no form of ownership over manuscripts which he produced by order of his su-perior and for whose production the community sus-tained special expenses. Another allied question treats of the religious who, when he is near death, pel~onally or through others burns or otherwise destroys his manuscripts. He may be moti-vated to such action by a sense of humility lest his memory be held in honor. Nevertheless, in the objective order, works just as religious in solemn vows. An affirmative answer was returned. l°/lcta ,,lpostolicae Sedis, v. 5 (1913), p. $66; Fontes Codicis itzris canonici, n. 4417. 11Jules Besson, ~'Les religieux et la propri~t~ des manuscrits," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 45 (1913), pp. 709-15; Matthaeus Conte a Coronata, O.F.M.Cap., Imtitutiones iuris canonici, 2d ed., v. I (Turin: Marietti, 19~9), p. 764, note 5; Dominicus M. PrOmmer, O.P., Manuale iuri~ canonici (Freiburg: Herder, 1933), 6th ed., p. 297, q. 223.1; I. Salsmans, S.J., "Annotationes in dubium circa manu-scripta religiosorum," Periodica, v. 7 (1913), pp. 165-8, especially n. 4; Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De ,,eligiosis (Rome: Vatican Press, 1947), 4th ed., nn. 1114-5; Wernz-Vidai, Ius canonicum, n. ~50. ~ In the place noted in footnote 11. commentatorsl~ accuse him of acting badly and of sin-ning. They a/so point out that he shows himself quite un-grateful to his community which provided him with the opportunity and the means to carry on his studies. There also arises the question about manuscripts which were produced by a person before he pro-nounced his religious vows and which have a money value. In the case of solemnly professed religious, these, like other properties, would have to be provided for in his renunciation before his solemn profession (c. 581, § I). Religious with simple vows would retain the sim-ple owners.hip or title to them (c. 580, § 1). Furthermore, if they derive royalties or other form of monetary re-turn from their manuscripts, such monies would belong to the religious and not to the community. This solution follows that given by the Sacred Congregation for Re-ligious in the case of persons who are now professed religious in simple vows but who become beneficiaries of monetary compensations for military service rendered before their religious profession,x4 As for the disposal of such monies, the norms set down in canon 569 would obtain,~5 that is: § I. Before the profession of simple vows, whether temporary or perpetual, the novice must cede, for the whole period during which he will be bound by simple vows, the administration of his property to whomsoever he wishes, and dispose freely of its use and usufruct, except the constitutions determine otherwise. § 2. If the novice, because he possessed no property, omitted to make this cession, and if subsequently property come into his possession, or if, after making the provision, he becomes under whatever title the possessor of other property, he must make provision, according to the regulations of § 1, for the newly acquired property, even if he has already made simple pro-fession. A final question regarding manuscripts by professed religious and the 1913 decision is: Did that decision defin-itively settle the initial question as to whether manu-scripts with a monetary value may not be alienated without due authorization by superiors, because such action would violate the vow of poverty, or, rather, would it violate simply the vow of obedience as being placed against an ecclesiastical law? Some authors point out that the scope of the vow of poverty at times varies somewhat from community to community. Consequently, while manuscripts with a XaF. Plat, O.F.M.Cap., Praelectiones iuris regularis (Tournai: Casterman, 1888), 2d ed., v. 1, p. 242,2; Priimmer, Manuale, p. 297, q.223.1. 2, T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest ]or Religious (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), v. 1, pp. 311-2, questions V and VL 26 Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 1115. Alienation VOLUME 27, 1968 d9 + lames I. O'Connor, Sdo REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS money value may be included under the vow of poverty in one community because of the wording of the con-stitutions, they may not in another community. As a result, these authors believe that the 1913 reply did not definitely decide whether such manuscripts are included under the vow of poverty. Nevertheless, all such com-mentators maintain that the authors of such manu-scripts may not alienate them, whether the root of the prohibition is found in the vow of poverty or in the vow of obedience.1~; As a last word about religious authors and their manuscripts, it may be worth noting that, while this study has been primarily concerned with the surrender of ownership of manuscripts to persons outside the re-ligious institute to which the author belongs, a much milder form of alienation may also be prohibited by constitutions, customs, or superiors even between mem-bers of the same religious body. Consequently, it is not unheard of that between religious of the same institute or even of the same house, general or particular per-mission is required for the donation, loan; or exchange of certain items among which manuscripts may be in-cluded. If there is such a restriction in a given institute, that restriction continues in force until and unless it is duly changed or modified. Works ot Art Under this heading is included everthing which is usually classi

THE « GETTYSBURG JBERGUHY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College Vol. XII. GETTYSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER, 1903 No. 6 CONTENTS THE EVOLUTION OF OUR NATION'S PRINCIPLES . 174 JOSEPH E. ROWK, '04. ROOSEVELT AND MALTHUS 180 W. W. BARKLEY, '04. "THE RAVIN' " SCHOOLMASTER 1S4 B. A. STROHMEIER, '06. POLITICAL INDIFFERENCE 185 THE ANALYSIS OF A NURSERY RHYME . 188 JAMES G. DILLER, '04. A VISIT TO McKINLEY'S TOMB 191 BRUCE COBAUGH, '05. THE HOUSE WE BUILD i93 EDITORIALS . 196 EXCHANGES 199 174 'J'HE GETTYSBURG MEKCURV. THE EVOLUTION OF OUR NATION'S PRINCI-PLES. JOSEPH E. ROWE, '04. TIME continues to roll on in its eternal course. Nations are only born under the doom of decay. Men rise to heights of greatness, are cut off in the twinkling of an eye, and pass forever from this earthly habitation. But there is one principle whose evolution the vicissitudes of fortune have failed to arrest. It is the development and growth of government. From time immemorial men have lived under some sort o f government; its genesis antedates all history. As far back as the great Aryan migrations there existed established laws, but even these were not the first in the history of the world. Many centuries had passed away since the mighty Nimrod or the queenly Semiramis held sway in Babylon; the Israelites had al-ready grown into a great nation, and the valley of the Nile had become both the "cradle and the tomb" of kings. Even the most primitive and most degraded peoples recog-nize some sort of leadership or control. From the Bushman of Australia, and the Hottentot, down to the American Indian, there is the same idea, though vastly different in degree, of rul-ing and of being ruled. Slowly has the evolution of government progressed, but, as surely as there is a God from whom it flows, no obstacle has impeded its steady advance. It has grown under the law of "the survival of the fittest," and its triumphs are but the re-sults of natural law. The civil ideas which have been evolved from a less complete to a more perfect and more practical sys-tem were as irresistible in their course as decrees of fate. There seems to have been that same great but awful force at work for the development of the ideal nation which, to a great extent, "shapes our ends, rough hew them as we will." When con-ditions favored the established principles, epochs of peace and prosperity ensued; when circumstances were adverse, wars and revolutions necessarily arose to restore the equilibrium. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 175 The path of their triumphal march down through the ages reeks with blood; where they have been opposed desolation reigns. The once glorious empires of the East are only dis-covered in their buried ruins; the pyramids are monuments of the dynasties which built them ; the crumbled statuary and art of Greece are but symbolic of her decay; and the ruins of Pompeii are the only vestiges of glorious Rome. Every at-tempt and apparent success to crush out the idea of further de-velopment in the governmental realm has virtually been a throwing of oil upon the fire glowing in the hearts of patriotic people. The pious Aeneas, exiled by fate, founded a nation greater than the victor of his fatherland. Carthage tried to crush aspiring Rome and only brought about her development. Pilgrims, deprived of liberty and exiled from the Old World, founded a mightier and freer commonwealth in the New. In this governmental evolution there have been two distinctly opposite principles warring against each other—Liberty and Unity. The spirit which has animated the heroes of liberty is active in its plans, uncontrollable in its measures and irresistible in reaching its goal; its doctrine is Radicalism. On the other hand, unity has been developed under the stern but careful plan of deliberation and statesmanship; its doctrine is Conservatism. Liberty is the harder to repress and was first evolved ; unity is the more difficult to maintain and its completion was last. The Goddess of Justice, determining the destiny of nations, holds in her hands a huge balance; on the one side is liberty, on the other unity. An uneven amount of either disturbs the equilibrium in the affairs of a nation; only a complete balanc-ing and blending of both can assure stability. The struggle which has shaken the world for so many centuries arose, first, from an excess of one and, then, of the other; the great beam rose and fell, and in turn the glory of nations grew resplendent or faded away. Every nation has been founded upon the plan of remedying one defect or the other. The people, furious at the remembrance of former injustice, drove Tarquin from the streets of Rome simply because he had been called king, but their freedom soon led to anarchy. Rulers of the Middle 1' 176 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Ages, fearing such outbreaks, kept the people in virtual servi-tude, and the French Revolution was the inevitable reaction. The momentum of hatred for tyranny had so accumulated that no earthly force could withstand it. The equilibrium of the French nation was disturbed and it did not regain itself until Napoleon arose, who tried to force the great beam to the oppo-site extreme of one-man power. But France was not the only country in the world to groan beneath the horrors of revolution. In England there had been an almost continual contest between the King and Commons. The Magna Charta and the Declaration of Rights were both proclamations of liberty. James I brought about the "blood-less revolution of 1688," and later, George III forced the American Colonies into rebellion. But our forefathers felt the great importance of freedom. They fought with an invincible determination for liberty. For-mer examples of oppressed liberties made them desperate, and they sallied forth to meet the foe with the battle cry, "Give me liberty or give me death !" Thus, the seed, implanted in the heart of man from the be-ginning of the world, blossomed forth into newness of life. It had at last fallen upon good ground, taken deep root, and brought forth the blessings of liberty to all succeeding genera-tions. The United Colonies of America became free and inde-pendent states—the goal of liberty's evolution was reached. But unity was lacking. So long as there was a common foe, the States were as impenetrable as a Macedonian phalanx. But now there was no longer a common cause, and it looked as if there would be many little nations, each trying to main-tain its own place in the great struggle for existence. The States were jealous of one another, and bitter quarrels soon arose. Under the Articles of Confederation, the nation had no head. Congress could indeed pass laws, but could in no way enforce them. Conventions were called, but the States even refused to send representatives. Conditions grew worse and worse; so much so that the historian declares, "Instead of be-ing a united and friendly people, the States were fast growing THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 177 to be thirteen hostile nations, each ready to draw the sword upon its neighbor." Finally, in 1787 a convention was held in Philadelphia, the object of which was to form "a more perfect union." But the difficulties to be surmounted were indeed perplexing. The populous States insisted that representation in Congress should be apportioned according to population; the smaller States were equally emphatic in maintaining that each State, large or small, should have equal power. They finally compromised. There were to be two houses embodied in Congress: the one, whose representatives were to be apportioned according to pop-ulation ; the other, whose delegates were to be two from each State, vested with equal power. Thus, it is a blending of prin-ciples which lies at the foundation of our government. Accordingly, under the new Constitution, our nation entered upon a career of great success and national development. Dur-ing this period the Louisiana Purchase more than doubled our area. The pirates of Tripoli were disposed of with impunity. The war of 1812 proved beyond doubt the great power of American arms, whilst not one battle was lost by us in the war with Mexico. There had come into the heart of every true American a common national pride and devotion to country. So long as the foe was external the States fought together like brothers. But, in the near future, there were times to come when the foe would not be common. From the very foundation of our republic an awful tempest had been gathering its threatening clouds. Eminent men no longer .feared destruction or dismem-berment by any European power, but looked forward with great anxiety at the inevitable causes of internal disorder. Even in Jefferson's time the storm was already so menacing that he said: "In contemplating the future welfare of my country, there are troubles which startle me as a fire-bell in the night." It broke forth in its fury in the year 1861. The South claimed the right to secede. She looked upon the election of Abraham Lincoln as-a great step toward the abolition of slav-ery which, as she thought, meant her ruination. Eleven States f 178 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. seceded and set up a government of their own under the title of "The Confederate States of America." But the integrity of the country had to be maintained. War was declared; not to abolish slavery, but to prevent the disasters of permanent sepa-ration. The first gun was fired from Fort Sumter on April 12th. It is said to have been heard around the world, for it heralded a conflict which concerned not only our nation but the world. Men on both sides were inspired, not only by the prestige of the principles which they upheld, but by the love of home, country and family. The one represented freedom in the ex-treme, the other unity or common welfare. Both realized the vast importance of victory; each knew that defeat meant utter failure. They fought with the desperate valor of a wounded wild hart, which turns once more to make a final and supreme effort against its foe. Four long years of war left the country in desolation and ruin, which before had been the peaceful habitation of ttscbild-ren. For a long time the destiny of our beloved republic hung in the balance. Bull Run raised the fervor of the combatants to a white heat. Antietam favored the non Unionists. But, led on under the heat of passion and by the glory of victory, their "vaulting ambition o'erleaped itself." The Mason and Dixon line was crossed and the cause of secession was fighting against fate. But the valor of her constituents was mighty, and their spirit invincible. The crisis came. Something had to be immediately done or all would be lost. Fifteen thousand men rushed forth on open ground to dislodge the Unionists. Cannon after cannon ploughed through their gallant ranks, but on they came unfaltering. Even the cannon's mouth—the High Water Mark was reached, but their ranks had been mowed down and the cause of secession forever lost. The evolution of the ideal governmental principles was com-pleted, and the stability of our nation proven by test. She had long since shown her shores impregnable to a foreign foe, but now it was proven to the world that America, unlike the na-tions of the past, was not to be rent or overthrown by internal THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 179 disorder. The civil world was at last given a breathing spell, for the combating forces seemed glad to discontinue the con-flict and forget their quarrels. And now there is no longer a North, South, East or West, but all are blended into one in-separable compact—the United States of America. Her principles have spread throughout the world. They have leaped across the Atlantic and modified, if not completely changed, the spirit of the mother country; they have given new life to the sturdy mountaineer of 'Switzerland ; they have brought peace into Italy's sunny climes, and have made Greece long for a second "Golden Age." And it is only a matter of time, of progress, and of civilization until the world will recog-nize the efficiency of America's governmental principles, which are, in the words of her greatest statesman: "Liberty and Union now and forever, one and inseparable!" • Ever judge of men by their professions. For though the bright moment of promising is but a moment, and cannot be prolonged, yet if sincere in its moment's extravagant good-ness, why, trust it, and know the man by it, I say,—-not by his performance; which is half the world's work, interfere as • the world needs must with its accidents and circumstances: the profession was purely the man's own. 1 judge people by what they might be,-—not are, nor will be.—BROWNING. "Sow a thought and you reap an act, Sow an act and you reap a habit, Sow a habit and you reap a character, Sow a character and you reap a destiny." 180 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ROOSEVELT AND MALTHUS. \V. W. BARKLEY, '04. The attitude which President Roosevelt has recently taken toward 'the increase of population in the United States, apparently challenging the theories of certain political econo-mists, particularly Mr. T. R. Malthus and his followers in Eng-land and America, puts before us a question worthy of our earnest consideration. Is it wise or unwise to advocate a con-tinuous increase in the population of our country ? In order to determine the wisdom of Mr. Roosevelt's position regarding this matter, we must go to our authorities, viz: Mr. Malthus and certain other political economists—to obtain a basis for our decision. The object of Mr. Malthus' investigations (1798-1803) were to find means for the improvement of society and to deliver it from its wretchedness and .poverty. He inquired into "the causes that had impeded the progress of mankind toward hap-piness," and offered a corrective for the same. Mr. Malthus advanced a theory (which is popularly known as the Malthusian Doctrine) in which he tried to prove that society could not hope to provide enough food to sustain all its members and that poverty, therefore, must be the inevitable outcome of a persistenee in increasing population, and that no blame could reasonably be attributed to society for its poverty. The Malthusians hold that population has a tendency to in-crease faster than subsistence, and that under such conditions some people, in the course of time, will not have sufficient food to maintain themselves, and poverty must be the inevitable re-sult, irremediable, unless the race in question adopts some means to prevent the possible increase of population. If the race fails to provide the necessary restriction, nature will step in and provide it for the race. Vice, disease, war, pestilence and famine—all these and more means may be adopted by na-ture to do her work of reducing numbers. In such a sifting process as this nature will make her selection and the fittest must ultimately survive. The above is a brief statement of the Malthusian Doctrine ^ THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. l8l It has been substantially adopted and supported by many mod-ern political economists whose opinions we have consulted. The Malthusians show that the birth-rate among any people, when procreation is allowed to run free and unrestricted, will always be in advance of the death-rate, hence, there will be a continual rise in population. The possibilities of this increase are very large, according to the law of geometrical progression. The probabilities are considerable. The facts of history indi-cate that the birth-rate is almost always in the advance, in a higher or lower degree, in an undisturbed state of society. Population then increases steadily. We said that it increases or has a tendency to increase faster than subsistence. This conclusion is based upon the great law of Diminishing Returns in Agriculture. This law needs no proof or explanation. Walker proves it conclusively in his Economy. Briefly it is this: "There is a limit to the amount of labor and capital which can be advantageously employed or expended upon a given area of land." Subsistence increases according to the law of arithmetical progression in contradistinction to the law of geo-metrical progression, according to which population increases. It is easily seen, therefore, that, as population increases, subsist-ence pet capita decreases. If population be carried beyond the limit of sufficient production lor the maintenance of the whole bod)' of society, poverty will ensue among a people. In a crowded community, such as the above continued in-crease in population will lead to, the pressure will come first upon the man with the large family and will force him to struggle hard against the scarcity of food and comforts; dis-ease and starvation must finally come. We have illustrations of this among barbarians and some modern Oriental nations, such as India and China, where they experience frequent fam-ines. Improvements in the arts of agriculture, domestic man-agement and government may withstand this pressure for a time, but, no matter in what direction, or how great the im-provement may be, population will ultimately, under the above circumstances, reach the point where the products of the soil will not support it adequately. So, the only sure and reason-able remedy for such a condition of scarcity, according to Mai- 182 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. thus, is prevention of reproduction to an extent sufficient to insureamplesubsistence/ifrcapita forall. Malthus wouldemploy rnan's reason and prudence and make it a moral restraint in-stead of reducing numbers by means of vice and misery, which, as we have seen, become inevitable results unless the former method is adopted. Evidently, France has adopted this Mal-thusian theory and practices it. The population of France is decreasing, and there is a growing sufficiency of subsistence and comfort for the whole nation. However, it is a question among many whether France is not doing this at the expense of her moral and physical well-being. It seems to be leading her into gradual degeneration. After all, France is hardly a good illustration of the practicability and good common sense of what Malthus taught regarding prudence and moral restraint as a means of checking the too rapid increase of population. Now returning to the question asked at the start, we may inquire again whether President Roosevelt is right in encour-aging the enlargement of families and the consequent growth of the total population of our country. What reasons can he produce? Has America yet reached the point in her econ-omic development where the Malthusian precaution is needed to check population ? If she has, how can we account for President Roosevelt's attitude ? There are reasons, perhaps, outside of the field of political economy that prompt Mr. Roosevelt to take the position he holds, but, assuming that he accepts the doctrine of the Malthusians, there is, nevertheless, sufficient ground to justify his attitude. He certainly would not advocate recklessness and imprudence in a matter of so great importance to the welfare of his country. In the first place, I do not believe that the United States has yet reached the point of Diminishing Returns in Agricul-ture, taking the country as a whole. That it is rapidly ap-proaching that point is not to be doubted. As it is, however, the prevention under consideration is uncalled for. With our present population, we have hardly reached the limit of our highest economic usefulness and the greatest returns per capita, with our vast areas of farm land under cultivation and still capable of much greater returns by the addition of more la- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 183 borers. I refer particularly to the broad expanse of arable land in our Great West. Undoubtedly, we have not yet reached the limit where we cannot advantageously add more laborers in agriculture. Surely there is no room for apprehension and fear. What poverty there is now in our country is largely due to shiftlessness, ignorance, laziness and vice. There is still a splendid chance for all who will take advantage of our educa-tional system and then go to work. Mr. Roosevelt is right from a moral standpoint also. The increase of population ought to be encouraged in our country. There are those among the wealthy and educated classes in the United States, holding erroneous ideas about "Social Standing," who deprecate large families and who consciously avoid them. This ought not to be true. It would be a blessing for our country if more children were born to the wealthy and cul-tured and fewer to the poorer classes, the ignorant and vicious. We need more citizens reared in the upper strata of society among our best people and fewer in the lower strata. Mr. Roosevelt is right and has given his country a splendid ex-ample in the honest pride he takes in his own large family. France is wrong. Without doubt she is carrying the Malthu-sian Doctrine to wicked extremes. We need to rid ourselves of the sinful tendencies abroad in France which are wasting her morals and reducing her national strength. We need to exercise prudence and reasonable restraint at all times and shun conscious and wicked checks to the increase of our population. The honor, hope and pride of a mother are her children. This is Mr. Roosevelt's opinion and he would have no father and mother consider them a disgrace, a dishonor or a burden. f» 184 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "THE RAVIN'" SCHOOLMASTER. B. A. STROHMKIKR, '06. ONCE upon a school-day dreary, As I waited weak and "skeary," 'Waited nervously the verdict from the teacher's judgment seat; While my eyes were nearly sapping, Suddenly there came a tapping As of something loudly rapping, Rapping on my breeches' seat. 'Twas the music of the raw-hide as it mercilessly beat Tunes upon my breeches' seat. How the dust flew out those patches, As I felt the raw-hide's scratches ! Yet I didn't necessarily have to skirmish or to dance. Strange the sound those whacks were making As the Prof, great paiiis was taking To appear to have me aching ; But he didn't have a chance, For the force of all the muscle he could use could not advance Past my armor-plated pants. Suddenly there came a silence, And I stood in grim defiance, While the goggle-eyed Professor squinted at me long and hard. He was tired out and panting. And I thought I heard him chanting Words that told that he was granting I his record sad had marred. Then he started, paused, and said these words which cut me like a sword, "Hand me out that weather-board !" Robbed of all my former po.wer, Like a nation's final hour— Like a Sampson with his hair off—I grew weak and weaker still. Then a bright thought struck me : "Mister, I know that you court my sister, And I'll tell Pa that you kissed her, Hit me even with a quill!" Fire flashed his eyes ; but that was all—he dared not do his will. Glory hallelujah Bill! W THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I85 POLITICAL INDIFFERENCE. SECOND only to the claims of religion are the claims of country. This does not mean that the Christian should desecrate holy places with political harangue, or that he should become the willing servant of a political boss, but that he should discharge his political duties to free government in a manner befitting a noble, religious life and consistent with the patriotic ideals of our forefathers. The government that maintains liberty of thought, word and deed as a fundamental principle, and recognizes education and Christianity as the only safeguards of public liberty, has a just claim upon every citizen for patriotic vigilance of all political rights. If it is true, as has been said, that "the standard of personal morality in America is higher than in England, that of com-mercial morality probably a little lower, and that of political morality quite distinctly lower," let it not be said that it is a defect in our system of government, or that it is wholly a fault of those who are faithless and incompetent in office, for, here, every citizen, no difference what his race or creed, has equal power with his voice and vote, and can claim no exemption from the just responsibilities for the evils of the body politic. Ours is, in fact as well as in theory, a government of the peo-ple, and its administration is neither better nor worse than the people themselves. It was devised by patriotic men who faith-fully gave it their wisest thought, and so perfectly is its frame-work fashioned that an accidental mistake of the people, or the perfidy of an official, or the enactment of profligate laws are all held in such wholesome check by coordinate powers as to enable the chief executive to restrain or suppress almost every conceivable evil for the welfare of the nation. To achieve the highest results in our system of government, it is necessary that the citizens throw aside the theories and idealities of the philosophers for the practical guidance of the ship of state. But alas! he who is best fitted for governing f» 186 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. men too often loves it least, and he who is least fitted for teach-ing men moral and political truths too often turns his back upon his duty for the sake of more pleasurable occupations of litera-ture, art or science. If the reputable citizen refrains from bearing a just responsi-bility in our political conflicts, and thereby voluntarily surren-ders the safety of his person and things, as well as the good order and well-being-of society, into the hands of those who are least fitted for governing men, turn and place the responsi-bility where it belongs and do not blame the thief and adven-turer, for they are but plying their trade, and rob public rather than private treasure because men guard the one and do not guard the other. How often have we not seen good men swiftly invoking the avenging arm of Justice for an injury done to private property, but who are criminally indifferent to the public wrongs done by those who, in the enactment and exe-cution of the laws, directly affect their happiness and pros-perity? Do not excuse the indifference of the good citizen by saying that politics have become polluted. Such a declaration would be a confession of guilt, and he who utters it becomes his own accuser. If it be true that the politics of a state or municipality bave become degraded, who is to blame for it ? Surely not the country or ward politician, for they are a small minority in every community and in every party. If they have gained control of the political organizations, and thereby have secured their election to offices of high trust, it must have been with either the passive or the active assent of the good citizens who hold the actual control of the government in their own hands. Does not the official, who shames his constituents with disgraceful acts, owe his election to the silent assent or positive support of those who claim to be patriotic and intelli-gent citizens, but who lay aside their political duties because of some private interest ? If incompetent appointments have been made through the influence of some political boss, it is due to the fact that honest and good citizens have not protested with a manliness that would point to a sure and swift retribution for such wrongs and, at the same time, have not demanded a per- THE GETTVSBURG MERCURY. 187 manent and practical civil service whereby all dishonor, dis-honesty and incompetency in office would end. Can our presi-dents and governors be wholly responsible for the low standard of our officials? No; for if good men concede primary polit-ical control to those who wield it for sdftsh ends, and thereby make the appointing powers depend tit i-ir both counsel and support upon the worst political eU iiient, u ho is to blame when public sentiment is outraged by the selection of unworthy men to important offices ? The fruits are but the natural, logical results of good citizens refusing to accept their political re-sponsibilities. There is not a blot in our body politic to-day that the better element of the people cannot remove whenever they resolve to do so. There is not a defect nor a deformity in our political administration that they cannot correct in the legitimate way pointed out by our free institutions. If our country is to reach the ideal pictured for it by the framers of the Constitution, it must have the active support of those upon whom the burden of government should rest. It must have behind it more men like Nathan Hale, who was sorry that he had only one life to give his country. It must have the influence and best thought of every American scholar and not the scheme of the demagogue or the trickery of the partisan politician. Three millions of men lie buried beneath American battle-fields to give us that which we seem to prize so lightly : Politi-cal Freedom. But "that these dead shall not have died in vain," that the Utopia of Thomas More's imagination may become a realization, and "that this Republic, under the guidance of A1T mighty God, will live and prosper through the ages," we must bear our burdens patiently, accept our responsibilities courage-ously, and discharge our duties intelligently and with fidelity. "NASHY." 188 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. H THE ANALYSIS OF A NURSERY RHYME. JAMES G. DIJ.LER, '04. OVV often, in the care-free hours of childhood, have we repeated that alliterative verse of linen-book poetry,. with its halting meter and quaint simplicity of language: "Hickory, dickerv, dock. The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck one, The mouse ran clown. Hickory, rlickery. dock.'' And yet, how many of us have ever discovered in this bit of seemingly senseless doggerel the hidden story of an appar-ently triffling incident, with all its philosophical suggestiveness and condensed moralizing upon the great truths of life? Lest the casual reader should condemn this writing as non-sensical at the very outset, let us begin at once to interpret the jingling and apparently meaningless and disconnected lines. Have you not always considered the first line, "hickory, dick-ery, dock," as merely a mechanical contrivance of words to-rhyme with the word "clock" in the line immediately follow-ing? Doubtless you have, and have regarded it as a useless corruption of our language made to subserve a trivial end. Hut stop to think, and to your surprise you realize that that very mechanical meter, with its abrupt ending, is a most accurate adaptation of words to imitate the ticking of a clock. This ticking of the tireless time-piece attracted the attention of a diminutive rodent, and gives us material for a bit of mor-alizing upon the next line, "the mouse ran up the clock."' Frightened, no doubt, at first, he overcomes his trepidation and hesitatingly approaches in the direction of the monotonous sound. Alas ! how many of us yield, as did the little mouse, to misdirected curiosity and flee, as he did, affrighted from that which was not meant for us to know! Incidentally, we call at-tention here to another concealed bit of information. The clock must have been one of the old-fashioned variety, with long, pendant weights exposed to the open air, else our little THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 189 friend could not have reached it in the course of his investiga-tions. The next line is of special value in our analysis, inasmuch as it gives us the time of this historic occurrence, the narration of which has doubtless entertained the younger generation since the days of the horn-book A, B, C. It may have been either broad-daylight in the early afternoon when, we are told, "the clock struck one;" or it may have been the hour immediately succeeding that— "—very witching time of night. When churchyards yawn." Hut our insight has already become sufficiently keen by our experience of the first two lines, so that we readily conclude it must have been one o'clock at night when his mouseship pur-sued his nocturnal meanderings. Had it been one o'clock in the afternoon, the bustle of the kitchen in clearing away the remnants of the mid-day meal, together with the presence and wide-awake activity of the dog or cat, would have entirely pre-cluded the possibility of the mouse performing his perpendicu-lar tight-rope-walk on the rope or chain of the hanging clock weights. And, now, the last line of pure English in this classic bit of nursery lore gives, perhaps,a larger scope of meaning than any of those preceding. Having accomplished his perilous ascent, and explored the intricate labyrinth of wheels, pinions and oscillating pendulum, he hesitates whether to retrace his steps or to delve still far-ther into the unexplored mysteries of this queer contrivance. But suddenly, close to his velvety ear, there breaks upon the silence of the night a loud, jarring sound, half stunning him by its proximity, and throwing him into a state, of quivering terror as he crouches behind the farthest clock wheel and lis-tens to the ebbing, throbbing waves of sound vibrating with the detonation of the stroke through the metallic fabric of the works. Then, the innate instinct of self-preservation asserting itself, he makes a dash for safety, half sliding, half tumbling down 190 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the clock-weights' chain and scurries away to his dark abode. Does he not typify all too well that over-ambitious spirit which strives to attain impossible ends, and to climb to heights where the atmosphere is too rare when the summit is finally reached, and the baffled, disappointed and heart-sick seeker is glad to return to his allotted place in the universe, just as the frightened mouse besought his subterranean retreat ? The last line, a repetition of the first, is intended to show how the clock went on ticking, in its accustomed manner, after the mouse had fled. Even so the great world goes on. Man is born—a diminutive mouse in the vast mansion of creation— he explores for a brief time, as the mouse did, mysteries too great for his feeble comprehension, and then returns to that place whence he came. And now, dear reader, have you not formed a better opinion of this doggerel rhyme which haunted your childish memory; and have you not conceived for it that appreciation which it so richly deserves ? 1 "A soul to fear its maker and to feel The finer things of life in their full measure ; A soul to hear God in the twilight calm And see him in the varied hues of dawn. A heart to hold some loves that closer lie Than aught of earth comparable ; a heart That spells its charity in words of deeds, A mind to commonsense, and those high acts That, welded, shape great Labor in its glory ; An arm to wield and mould all that these three Design, contrive—this constitutes a man.-' - ** # THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 191 ■*• A VISIT TO McKINLEYS TOMB. BRUCE COBAUGH, '05. AT the end of a short avenue which leads from the main wes-tern street of Canton, Ohio, lies the beautiful West-lawn Cemetery. To the many visitors it is of special interest as being the burial place of our late President McKinley, and it is for the purpose of visiting his tomb that we pass through the large gate at the entrance on a Sunday afternoon in July. On entering we are greeted by a pleasant surprise as we note the natural beauty of the place, for it is a veritable park. We cannot help but contrast it with other burial grounds we have known, many of whose chief characteristics are the long rows of cold marble and granite with their intermittent spaces laid out with mathematical precision, as if old Mother Earth were jealous of giving one man more than an alotted resting place in her spacious bosom. Nor do we experience that cold un-comfortable feeling that often passes over one on entering a cemetery. On the contrary, as we stroll along the winding avenue which leads through the cemetery, we pause as our attention is attracted to some new beauty of the place. To our left rises a ridge covered with trees. Here the stately oaks are sighing softly in the summer breeze. From their branches comes the songs of their feathered tenants in joyful melody as if inviting all to rejoice. We pause in the shade of a large oak and listen while nature speaks with an eloquence that can never be surpassed. Descending below, to the right, is a slope whose gently un-dulating surface is covered with green. It is bounded below by a brook whose clear waters sparkle in the sunlight The bank is covered with willows which dip their overshadowing branches into the stream. Here and there along its course are ponds in which swim the little sunfish among the floating lilies. We follow a short path from the main avenue and this brings us to the object of our visit. On the eastern slope of the wooded ridge is the exterior of the ** 192 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. large vault. In the .stone front with its solid arch and massive pillars, hangs the heavy iron gate that guards the entrance. It gives one an impression of stability and its general appearance is plain. We can approach no nearer than a distance of about fifty feet for it is guarded day and night by armed sentries who are pacing to and fro about the tomb. As we gaze on the walls which enclose his mortal remains, our thoughts turn back on McKinley's life. Thoughts of his public career come to our mind. We think of how he rose step by step from one position to a higher by proving himself worthy of promotion. His ability as a statesman, his election to the office of chief ruler of our nation and the integrity with which he served his country are among our thoughts. He seems to us a true American in the highest sense of the word. No less than these, however, is his great example of charac-ter. Again, we think of his death, his patience in suffering and the spirit of forgiveness which he showed for the man who gave him a mortal wound. And his calm resignation in the dying hour along with his trust in God make him a worthy example of a true Christian spirit. The sun is sinking behind the treetops and we have time to stay no longer. We return with thoughts of our visit that will ever be pleasant in our memory. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 193 THE HOUSE WE BUILD. IN the land of the East there once lived a king who gave to twelve of his subjects a sum of money with the command that each should build him a house. Each man took the allot-ted sum and set out to obey the command. Eleven bought the cheapest materials in the market and constructed their buildings on the simplest plan, so that they might save some money for their own use and complete their tasks; but the twelfth secured the most durable materials he could find and with painstaking care built his house as nearly perfect as pos-sible. When the buildings were finished, the king issued a de-cree that each subject, for the rest of his life, should live in the house which he himself had constructed. Imagine the chagrin of the eleven when they found that they must dwell in such unstable structures. Repairs soon became necessary as part after part gave way, and in a short time the buildings, too weak to stand the wear of time, collapsed. But the twelfth subject dwelt in his substantial home until the end of his days. Although this is only a legend, there is hidden vVithin it a truth which is applicable to mankind. Each individual must rear a building for himself—that unseen and uncomprehensible being or spirit—to dwell in. Perhaps we are carrying this on unconsciously, nevertheless, each day has its effect upon these structures. Either we are fashioning pillars and supports which will make our house a strong and beautiful one—fit to contain the noblest aims and purposes—or we are, by living lives of in-difference and ease, rearing such a structure as one finds on a neglected farm, which can contain nothing securely and which every adverse wind threatens to destroy. And there is no ex-change of property, no rental, sale or giving away. Each man must keep his own building and live in it as he himself has built it. Our acts, our thoughts, our feelings, our resolves, our aims and the influences which we receive from associates, books and surroundings are as really the material for our buildings as the t 194 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. lumber and nails for the carpenter. And just as essential for us is a plan. Each one should have a definite ideal as he takes up his work of art. For such an ideal, observe nature in her perfection as she manifests herself in the snowflake with its per-fect arrangement and whiteness, the globe of dew in its round-edness and purity, the new blown rose in its fresh beauty, the magnificent forests in their strength and grandeur,and the lofty mountains in their towering might. And the human body in itself, in its harmonious structure and workings, is a model for perfect symmetry and order. One of our writers speaks of it thus:— Not in the world of light alone, Where God hath built his blazing throne, Nor yet alone in earth below, With belted seas that come and go And endless isles of sunlit green, Is all thy maker's glory seen. Look in upon thy wondrous frame, Eternal wisdom still the same. One should carefully consider both the exterior and interior of the building which he erects. The exterior, while not most important, should receive some care. Have a good strong frame secured by temperate living and proper exercise, an erect form. A clear interior structure, with its furnishings, is import-ant, not only because it is the character, or at least what makes the character of the individual, but because it affects the exterior and makes it what it is to a very great extent. Our houses are more or less transparent, and one without can tell the nature of the man who lives within. On the outside we post the signs which describe the resident. Ruskin says on this subject: "There is no virtue, the exercise of which, even momentarily, will not impress a new fairness upon the features, neither on them only, but on the whole body." In the furnishings let a good strong individuality form the centre piece and let it secure for itself an appropriate setting; let it secure those qualities which make us noble and images of the divine. Let earnestness, enthusiasm, tenderness, a love for THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 195 beauty and harmony, observation, unselfishness and determina-tion be essentials in the equipments. If a man wished to build a perfect house, he would give his attention to every detail and try to make it complete. So in rearing our house, let us not polish and adorn one part to the neglect of another. The young girl who strives only for grace in a ball room and popularity in the social world, and the young man who develops only his muscles in athletics, are building very deficient houses. Symmetry and proportion are two qualities necessary to a beautiful building. In this work of building, we may often improve our own structures by helping our companions as they toil. While we are supporting a pillar or repairing a broken part for them, what is our surprise to find a new beauty in our own, while rough edges have become beautifully rounded curves. How delightful it is to live in a country that is adorned with beautiful and well constructed buildings ! In us lies the ability to adorn or mar the world by the structures which we rear in it. In addition to their improving our surroundings, they serve as incentives to others in perfecting their own buildings. The poet Holmes gives us an inspiration in the words: "Build ye more stately mansions, O my Soul, While the swift seasons roll. Leave thy low vaulted past, Let each new temple nobler than the last Shut thee from Heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell, By life's unresting sea." "ORLANDO." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffi.ee at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. XII GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1903 No. 5 Editor-in-chief LYMAN A. GUSS, '04 Exchange Editor M. ROY HAMSHER, '04 Business Manager F. GARMAN MASTERS, '04 Asst. Business Manager A. TY. DTT.LENBECK, '05 Associate Editors M. ADA MCLINN, '04 BRUCE P. COBADGH, '05 C. EDWIN BUTLER, '05 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, L-ITT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHI.EY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. What a great thing it is ! What a commendable TRUTH trait of character! What a power in everything! And yet how often debased, how often contaminated, how often distorted! It is our purpose to briefly set forth herein a few facts bear-ing directly on the welfare of this college; to reconstruct cer-tain distortions of the truth, which have been circulated by yel-low journalism to our detriment; and to assure our friends and supporters that Gettysburg is a college of gentlemen and not of "hoodlooms," as certain press manipulators, with clouded vision, would make us. During the past two months, there have been evil and ma-licious reports scattered broadcast, within no small radius of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I97 our college community, in which the boys of Gettysburg have been deprecated as a gang of rowdies, rogues and general roustabouts ; have been designated in all sorts of terms, border-ing on the villiainous; have had epithets, becoming anything but gentlemen heaped upon them in profusion; and have been characterized as an aggregation of degenerates. If these things were true, ours it would be to "grin and bear," but no individual, without a word of protest, much less a body of loyal college students, can see such maledictions afloat and such slander indulged in with impunity. We labor with righteous indignation under the knowledge that the good name of our college, undefiled for decades, is being vitiated without provocation. Therefore, we refute with vigor these monstrous prevarications. To the friends of Gettysburg we would say that the reports referred to above are not true, are utter falsehoods, and are not warranted. Instead of all kinds of devilment, which these vile, disgraceful recitals portray, such a state of affairs is non-exist-ent almost in totality. Class spirit, college spirit—all kinds of spirit, we are loath to confess, is at a lower ebb than it has been for a number of years, and, consequently, the real and only ex-cess, conducted by the student body, is thereby removed; for, be it known, that there by no means exists an organized quota of students in the college whose aim and object is the destruc-tion of property, and the debasement of their fellow-students. Such personalities Gettysburg does not support. To be sure, occasionally, a sudden outburst of college en-thusiasm does impel prudence a little beyond the limit, but never, within the time during which we have been flailed with the confounded misstatements of a debauched press, has it been carried to an end approaching that which these enlarged, in-flated, falsified and perverse specimens of a journal of the "yellow" type would have you believe. To the source of this polluted literature we consider it be-neath our dignity to directly refer. It suffices to state the facts connected with its origin and promulgation. These we offer to you as explanatory of these disseminated articles so liberally 198 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. savored with prevarication. We trust they may serve to right your estimate of our college; to reinstate you in your former attitude of good will toward us, if you have fallen therefrom by the great injustice done, and being done, us without cause, real or sham; to lead you "to believe that we are not "hood-looms," but men, such as Gettysburg has merited and owned in the past, and yet finds perpetuated in our persons. We ask you to discount these reports, which appear at our expense, with a reduction of one-half or three-fourths, which they will readily bear, and then the residue may, perhaps, be taken at par. These remarks may seem somewhat eulogistic, but we are given to self-laudation only in case of stringent necessity. This is one such case. What we want you to believe, alumni and friends, is that Gettysburg is a college, not composed of men of ideal character,but equally on a level basis with our contemporary institutions. We are not tainted and debased in character, in a class of our own, but whole and sound as any. The Pennypacker press muzzle was met with derision and denunciation when it became law. It was fairly paralyzed with a storm of opposition. And yet there is quality in that piece of legislation. While its operation, for the most part, is out of harmony with American principle, it could be made to operate with admirable results in specific cases. It is not our intention to justify the "muzzier," but would it not justify itself in our instance ? It would purge e\^il from the local press, perchance. Shall we try it? DIALECT 1'ne fed °f writing stories in various dialects, STORIES. particularly that of the Negro, the Irishman, the Westerner or Backwoodsman, is becoming very contagious. These stories, while they are comical and interesting and serve the purpose intended perhaps well enough, may become very detrimental to our language and especially so if they continue to multiply. The colloquial form of the English language is now ungram- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 199 matical enough, as every one will acknowledge, but what it might become if these corruptions are acquired, I should fear to state. For example the colloquy of the Westerner put into the speech of our fairly educated men of today would be unbecom-ing and distasteful, to say nothing of its effect. While this illustration may be an absurd one, yet it is not far in advance of the result of dialect writing. If we are given this species of literature we are going to acquire more and more of this kind of language. Another example only too realistic is that of the college student whose corrupt terms and phrases are understood only by himself and those associated with him. How often when speaking to an outside man does he find himself uttering these corruptions, which are, it may be, Hebrew to his hearer. This is an example of how easily we may acquire the lore of the different dialects if they are thrust upon us for our constant amusement or edification. Our tongues would be confused far more than the tongues of historic Babel. To the student of English, dialect stories, when they exceed the limit in number and quality, should be especially repulsive and, by heeding them with little or no regard, the student will be justified, the'offender punished, and the dignity of our English preserved. EXCHANGES. The most delightful bit of optimism, for it does seem to savor of the optimist, that we have noticed in our last month's reading, has been penned with regard to the college publica-tions. Hear some of the soul-cheering words of the Georgetown College Journal's ex-man, who has been so highly esteemed as to be re-elected to office: "They bring to us a message of the thousands of college men and women of this country who are giving their time to the study of letters and are becoming writ-ers of good English. We do most emphatically believe in col-lege journalism; and it is our firm conviction that out of the 200 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. humble efforts that the college editor is to-day making will come the great American novel, and the great American epic, and the great American essay; in short, will come the great American literature, a golden age, that will outshine all that have gone before it." May college journalism result in a de-velopment of our literature equal to the expectations of our sanguine friend. There is much in the college magazine that does not warrant such expectations. But there are some col-lege men who, although their literary efforts are now making but a feeble light, are, nevertheless, blazing a pathway for grander and nobler things in literature. The Carthage Collegia?i has this interesting preface to its last number, which is intended, no doubt, for critics who become cynical in their observations:— "Kind reader, ere you turn away From viewing this small booklet's pages, And judge, perchance, correctly too, That they who wrote it are not sages, Think well, before you place it on the shelf, You might have written it yourself. Forget the weak, the poor, and of the rest, Though it be poor, remember thou the best." If there were made a classification of the college magazines into those seemingly making a special effort to present college news, with one or more literary articles to fill up the space, and those devoted principally to literary work, we would, no doubt, place such magazines as Tlie Monthly Maroon and University of Virginia Magazine in the second class. They belong to the part of college journalism that will result in the "Great Ameri-can Literature." The Ursinus Weekly has just come out with its first Literary Supplement of the year. The essay on "Seventeenth Century Lyric Poetry" shows a knowledge of the spirit of that time. The writer compares the songs of the "light-hearted" Robert Herrick with the "deep, sonorous" notes of Tennyson in an in-teresting manner. The exchange editor seems to have a good word for every one.

Part one of an interview with Settimio "Babe" Pellechia. Part of this interview has been redacted as per Mr. Pellechia's wishes. Topics include: Family history. How his parents came to the United States from Italy and settled in Leominster, MA. His father's work at the Leominster Button Company and then as an ash collector. Babe's memories of growing up in Leominster during the Depression. His father's construction work. The work his siblings did. What it was like for Babe working with his father on construction jobs. How his brothers turned the construction business into a concrete block manufacturing business. The different businesses Babe started and worked in. What the Lincoln Terrace neighborhood was like when Babe was growing up. His mother mainly spoke Italian and knew very little English. Speaking Italian in the home. What his mother was like. The types of food his mother would prepare. Babe's work in the motel business. What life was like when Babe was running an ice cream shop and a motel. His children's education. ; 1 BABE: And [DeMazzio]… [Icelano], and then after would actually be Joseph… Enrico. LINDA: Enrico? BABE: Enrico. LINDA: Enrico. BABE: Uh oh, we got caught. Enrico, and then myself, and then Olga. LINDA: Hi, I'm Linda. SPEAKER 3: Hi nice to meet you. BABE: Now there wasn't -- of course Dave passed four years ago. There was another DeMazzio [unintelligible - 00:00:53] Icelano. LINDA: Oh, there were two others that died? BABE: Well, they died at the age of three and one in the same weekend. LINDA: Okay. BABE: Before the others. That's why they renamed the others. LINDA: They renamed -- so. I'll put that in here there were two others. You want that in there? There was another one DeMazzio that died and they named it the next one DeMazzio. And Icelano was one that died, and they named the next one Icelano. SPEAKER 3: I would like that in there. LINDA: Okay. SPEAKER 3: [Unintelligible - 00:01:21] you should have hired her. LINDA: How are you, Tina? TINA: Oh good. I'm… LINDA: Now, your marriage. BABE: Now, there's a bad part. You had to spoil it. October 5, 1945. I'm sorry, October 6, 1945. LINDA: Uh-oh. SPEAKER 3: I was just waiting. I didn't want to say anything. LINDA: October 6, 1945 and you married Augustina, what? SPEAKER 3: Traini. BABE: T-R-A-I-N-I. 2 LINDA: Augustina Traini. BABE: This comes out of that because [unintelligible - 00:02:01] that's part of the book [unintelligible - 00:02:05]. SPEAKER 3: Babe, you're going to have to do this because -- I'm sorry, I have a class. I'm teaching down the college, so… BABE: What was that last one? LINDA: Your children, the names of your children. BABE: Okay, Linda… LINDA: Another Linda. BABE: And Barry David. LINDA: And Barry David. Residential history. Now, you lived on Grove Avenue. BABE: The different places we lived? Well, we started in Lincoln Terrace where I was born, and Miller Street, [Union] Street. After Union Street we went to Sterling, Westminster, to Grove Avenue, and then over here. LINDA: Norfolk, okay. BABE: I missed one, Litchfield Street. LINDA: Where was that at? BABE: That would before Union. LINDA: Litchfield? BABE: Litchfield. Is it recording now? LINDA: Yes. BABE: Then I can't joke as I go on. LINDA: Oh, you can joke. I just wanted to make sure that… BABE: Had I graduated it would've been the class of '40. LINDA: Okay. Work history. What did you do? Your father? BABE: What did I do? I started with contracting with my father. My father was a contractor, so I fit in that very good. And then I was self-employed in the following businesses: Babe's Ice Cream, Dennison Motel, West [unintelligible - 00:04:06] Motel, and Babe's Miniature Golf, subdivision of the real estate [unintelligible - 00:04:07] houses. LINDA: Subdivision of real estate? For housing? 3 BABE: Mm-hmm. That's all I did. LINDA: What about Blocks? BABE: Yes, true. That was another corporation. These were all my own. Blocks was a corporate… LINDA: That was with your father? SPEAKER 3: At least she remembered. LINDA: Contracting with father, Blocks -- was that the name of it? BABE: Well, Blocks was the name of the four brothers. SPEAKER 3: It's a great thing you guys are doing, you know. I'm so glad you got that older woman, that 100 year old lady, 106. Thank God you got her before she went. LINDA: We got a little bit. You didn't get to see her [unintelligible - 00:05:09]. SPEAKER 3: Not me. It was someone who was working before. BABE: To show that we're not always hiding. That first sheet down there, what's that say? SPEAKER 3: This one? BABE: Yeah. SPEAKER 3: The Joy of Growing Up Italian? BABE: No, no, the one above it. SPEAKER 3: American? BABE: No, what's the next one you have there? SPEAKER 3: This one, the Americans? BABE: Oh, that's what you had. [Unintelligible - 00:05:26] LINDA: Babe, my next question here is St. Anne the Church, and that's St. Anna. You always belonged to St. Anna Church? BABE: Off and on. LINDA: Off and on. SPEAKER 3: Yeah. BABE: And now it's off. SPEAKER 3: I'm just going to say bye. And I'll see you. LINDA: Good luck. Nice meeting you. [Unintelligible - 00:05:58] 4 BABE: It was a pleasure. SPEAKER 3: I got pineapples for my still life. LINDA: You're going to paint still life? SPEAKER 3: No, they're drawing. It's a drawing class that I'm taking [unintelligible - 00:06:05]. BABE: Before -- do you want to shut it for just a minute? SPEAKER 3: Not on there, so… LINDA: Thank you, Ann. I would have checked. Okay, we have to start again. I'm Linda Rosenblum with the Center for Italian Culture. It's Tuesday, October 30th at 1:20 p.m. We're with Babe Pellechia, and Rosa Farrell is with me, and we're at his home at 27 North Fourth Drive in Leominster. Hi, Babe. Thanks for letting us come and interview you. I thought that you could tell me a little bit about your parents first. Are they the ones that came to Leominster? BABE: Yes. My father came to Leominster in 1906, and… how far do you want me to expand on that? What he did? LINDA: Sure. Well, first of all, where did he immigrate from? BABE: From Rome. LINDA: Rome? Did he travel with your mother? BABE: No, she came in 1909. LINDA: Okay. Who did he travel with? BABE: He just came on his own, I believe, at that time or whatever, people were coming. He left from Roma and landed in New York then came to Leominster. LINDA: Do you know why he came to Leominster? BABE: You know, that's one of the questions we never asked him, and I'm still trying to find out why he came to Leominster. It must be because of friends; that's where most of them was. You know, there was quite a colony of the Santa Maria Del Combo, and that's from the section of Italy where they came from. So it could have been from other friends where he… 5 LINDA: What do you call that, Santa Maria? ROSA: Del Campo. Santa Maria Del Campo. BABE: It's an Italian organization. ROSA: The particular region in Italy. LINDA: So, close to Rome? BABE: It's south of Rome. It's actually -- El Vita, and [unintelligible - 00:08:00]… which is part of -- give me a minute. My notes over there, please, these little papers here. It's [unintelligible - 00:08:17] Costa Lata. C-O-S-T-A, L-A-T-A, I believe it is. And that's where most of them came from. LINDA: And I had just read in some of the papers over here that he studied industrial agriculture when he was in Rome? Did you know that? BABE: He was a farmer, whatever that may mean. You know, like I say, [unintelligible - 00:08:41]… authority, and that sometimes these things happen like a good friend of ours that was a garbage collector, and he did wonderful things. The city of New York gave him an award, and they said he is a sanitation engineer. And the guy got up and says I am a garbage collector. So I don't think he did much studying at that age because there was -- things were pretty rough there in Italy. LINDA: Did he ever tell you any stories of Italy? BABE: Oh yes. LINDA: Would you like to share some? BABE: Well, he would say the way they used to work and so forth, and their living conditions, which was pretty rough at that time. That was the reason why they came here. Of course, supposedly our roads were paved with gold, and that's out there. But he was always a very hard worker and always wanted to do more, learn more, do more, which he did do in his life. Like the first thing he did when he came in to Leominster was he headed down to Leominster Button Company, which is near, 305 Whitney Street, and they're called [unintelligible - 00:10:01] now. And he was a rubber of buttons and combs. They used ashes, and it's surprising that 6 they [unintelligible - 00:10:11] health in that year one of the filthiest jobs that -- the men worked, and this is outlined -- let's see, this is put out by the Board of Health of Massachusetts. LINDA: So he was called a rubber? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: Did you remember him explaining what he did? BABE: Well, what it is, you take the buttons or the combs or whatever they're working on [unintelligible - 00:10:37] was turtle, made from turtle then [unintelligible - 00:10:39], and what the ashes and what the wheels going at the RPMs that it does go, and the water, that polishes up, really polish it. But of course if you got water and ashes and a wheel going you know what that does to the person, and that's what he did for a few years. Surprisingly though in 1914 he sold that fine ashes -- this was a business for him. LINDA: So he realized that there was a use for that ash. BABE: Mm-hmm, and they got him out of that filthy working conditions. LINDA: I'm wondering what does an ash dealer mean? What would he do with the ashes? BABE: You go around and pick up the ashes from people's home, 10 cents a barrel, bring them down and screen it through a screen that water won't go through, and that's what they used for rubbing. That's the compound that they used for rubbing these plastic -- not plastic but the horns or hooks or whatever they were doing. LINDA: Did he get that idea from someone else, to go and collect the ash? BABE: Well, he got the idea from being in business. He got some wagons to collect the ashes, which were -- and the rubber district was a good business at the time, and then he felt that he had that, why not screen the ashes and sell it to the industries, which he did. Another byproduct of that too that the -- when you screen the ashes you always get the coal that never burnt, and half of Lincoln Terrace was the Italian Colony. He used to go down and pick up the coal, and it kept a lot of people warm up there 7 at that time, so that they would go down -- it was on Middle Street where they did that. So [unintelligible - 00:12:33] he helped out a lot of people by letting them go and they go through these screenings and pick out all the little black diamond gold that heats the house, and that was it. LINDA: So this 75 Lincoln Terrace, was that where you lived, or … BABE: That's where I was born, and that's where we lived at the time. LINDA: So he actually -- I just want to make sure that we get this on tape, so sorry to keep asking you… BABE: That's all right. LINDA: It's an old art, and it's not easily explainable. So he would go around to people's homes, or… BABE: Yes. Because everybody burnt coal in those days. You'd call up and you'd go there and then take the barrels out where -- which as he said was very, very heavy, because you'd either have to go up the stairs if they didn't have an outside door or to the bulkhead or something like that, and he aggravated at some people to get more ashes in the barrel [unintelligible - 00:13:26]. And so that's more weight, and then you couldn't screen it. Other than that he had the horse and wagons, put them on, bring them down -- the screening plant was on Millet Street, which is just off of Lincoln Terrace, and there he would screen what he picked up from the people's homes and separate it and sell the extra fine screened ashes to industry. And he shipped it to a few places all over the United States at the time. LINDA: Where did he get the money to begin this type of a business? BABE: By what most foreigners other than Puerto Ricans, saved their money [unintelligible - 00:14:09] saved their money and do it that way. LINDA: So at this time was he married? BABE: Probably should strike that out. That isn't too nice to say, but it's already on tape. 8 LINDA: Well, it's going to be edited. BABE: Okay. LINDA: What did I ask -- was he married to your mother by this time? BABE: Oh yes, he married my mother in 19… I'll put my glasses on. It would help, wouldn't it? LINDA: Okay, but we can figure out the dates later. BABE: Hmm? LINDA: We can figure out the dates later. BABE: Okay. LINDA: So we'll figure it out. So can you tell me a little bit about growing up on Lincoln Terrace? BABE: It's a good thing that we didn't know better. We enjoyed ourselves. It was a happy life and so forth, but I just wonder what would happen today if children had to go through what we did. Our fun would be getting in a sandbank and digging holes and whatever we could find, cups and make objects out of it. We'd play baseball. Whoever had the baseball and the bat would be the one that would pick the teams and when we'd play and how we'd play. And it was -- on today's standard it was really very, very rough living at the time. We had no entertainment to speak of. We hardly go to movies only it was only a nickel to go to the Gem Theater; we didn't get there too often. And the main highlight, or one of them, was at Christmastime at the -- one thing my father would do, he did everything for Christmas. You know, for food and things like that. And one of the big games as I remember would be getting the table like this and putting sawdust on it, and he'd hide coins in the sawdust, and you each had a shape to pick out a shape where you'd want hoping to get more coins than your brothers and sisters and so forth. So that was one of the fun things that we did. 9 But myself as I grew up I always had a tendency to follow him and get involved with his work. By that time [unintelligible - 00:16:36] he was in the contracting. He was more doing contracting at that time, became a contractor. So I always followed him around on jobs and things like that. So I learned more. I think even for myself I think I grew up real fast as far as a youngster. LINDA: Is that partly because you were the seventh son? BABE: No, because that's what I wanted to do. LINDA: Explain to me though what your name means again. BABE: Settmio is seven in Italian, and that's what it means. It's just that the Sette is seven, and that's where the name comes from. LINDA: So I forgot now. You're the seventh son or seventh child? BABE: Seventh son in rotation. LINDA: And how many sisters? BABE: Out of eleven. There was three girls in the family. LINDA: So by the time you came around your family already had six boys? BABE: Yes. I was the seventh and the last boy in the family. LINDA: So how were your brothers' lives different than yours? Were they harder? Were they… BABE: Oh yes. Well, my oldest brother was quite active in the business and so forth. He did all that. But then my next brother was a -- he worked very, very hard, and entertainment was out as far as that got. No vacations and things like that. It was strictly, as I remember it, when -- don't forget I'm entering about the time, well, 8 years old and that was the beginning of the Great Depression. I remember that quite well. The families were living on $12 a week, quite a few of them, which is what the welfare would give you. LINDA: So during the Depression your father was working? BABE: Whenever [unintelligible - 00:18:44] work. Yeah, he was doing contracting, whatever work he could get. On one job he was a supervisor for doing some work at city hall, and this is choosy but you have to do it 10 by the WPA program at the time. And to do a [unintelligible - 00:19:02] for city hall you did it at the time but they send them 30 men. You know, other people that were on the WPA, and they were on top of one another so my father had to let them be -- he had them closing doors, open doors and sweeping, everything but working because they were all in one another's way. But he was a supervisor at that time. But he did work like that there and then we plowed snow in the wintertime—there was income from plowing the snow, keeping the truck busy. Then he did odd jobs as they came up, but nothing -- it was a tough time. To backtrack, my father was very, very successful up until 1929. He owned 33 houses, and one by one he lost them all because people didn't have money to pay the rent and the banks wanted their money and they would just keep taking the house. You know, the foreclosing, keep doing that. LINDA: So he owned 33 homes and he lost every single one? BABE: All but the one we were living in. LINDA: Oh. BABE: Yeah. LINDA: How did he afford to buy 33 houses? BABE: Because he got to be a good-sized contractor. Like he built – he had the contract for all the concrete work in the Leominster post office, which was quite a job in those days. In 1926 he built the Main Street garage down on -- he did the fence around St. [Lido's] cemetery, which is quite a sizeable job, and he built numerous homes. In those days the first homes he built, regular homes like on Lincoln Terrace, there's probably eight homes up there that he built and was sold for the big sum of $2,800. LINDA: Wow. BABE: That's what they were at that time. In fact, numerous times, her dad would work for my father on his trade. You know, blocks and bricks, plastering 11 so that he and [unintelligible - 00:21:22], whenever they had a job that required brickwork and plaster and so forth, they were the first two that he called to do the work. So you see we would all get things first class with first-class people. But he couldn't -- the Depression was too much for everybody at that time, not only him. LINDA: Before we go on, let's back up a little bit. He came to this country, he started -- he used ash to rub buttons et cetera, then he opened his own business selling ash. BABE: He started that, yeah. LINDA: Right. So what kind of time frame are we talking about? BABE: I beg your pardon? LINDA: What's the time frame that we're talking about? BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:22:05] LINDA: Where was it, 1914? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So he was selling ash in 1914, and then he went into the construction business? BABE: I can give you year by year. Let me show you. See, this is the -- you know, all the concrete work on this job there's his -- do you see that there on the box [unintelligible - 00:22:27] and Company? LINDA: Mm-hmm. Oh that's interesting. That's in '29, so this was a bad time. BABE: No, that was the good time; the beginning of the bad started right after that. So that the -- well, he worked the button shop, at Leominster Button… then he -- let's see as we go along here. Okay, now in 1913 he put a grocery store in the house. LINDA: He put a grocery store in your house? BABE: Well, [unintelligible - 00:23:14] to sell groceries, yeah. LINDA: So at 75 Lincoln Terrace? BABE: Yeah, that's still 75 Lincoln Terrace. And then of course he got both here the ashes and the grocery that he did. LINDA: So who's running the grocery store? 12 BABE: My mother. LINDA: Oh, was it your mother? BABE: Yeah. It's just on Lincoln Terrace a small street though, there wasn't -- no store, like you think of stores today. And it keeps on changing. Now right now, then in 1916, he added trucking to that too. LINDA: Trucking? So that's when he's an ash dealer though? BABE: No, he started with regular trucking after that. Sand and gravel and so forth at that time. LINDA: So again, he'd buy the sand and gravel, and then… BABE: No, we had our own pit. LINDA: You had your own pit? BABE: Yeah. He owned the land down on Miller Street, which was back in there. LINDA: So at least we understand the chronological. BABE: Hmm? LINDA: At least we understand it a little bit more, I think. I was going from the ash business right to building. BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:24:43]. LINDA: That makes more sense. We get into trucking, gravel and sand, and then construction. And he would build these buildings himself? BABE: He did all kinds of construction work. He even built the 38 -- he had the contract for the bridge on [unintelligible - 00:25:05] Street in Pittsburgh, which was Route 2A at the time. ROSA: He put the sand and the gravel and the ashes. Didn't he make his own blocks, make blocks for construction? BABE: Started making blocks around 1920. That was part of the… LINDA: So he would use the materials that he was gathering or buying and selling? So who would he sell the blocks to? Or would he use the blocks for his own building? BABE: He would use the blocks or sell them to whoever needed them. LINDA: And how would he make the blocks? 13 BABE: From our own pit, with the sand and gravel we had there on North Smith. He would make the blocks at that time. LINDA: Was it a mold, or did people do them… BABE: It's a machine, the machine that the mold would take care of it. LINDA: What was the name of the construction company? BABE: Pellechia and Company. LINDA: Pellechia? Did they have many people working? BABE: At some times he had quite a few people. LINDA: You don't have to worry so much about those dates, because I can look through that after. I'm just trying to understand how someone comes here from nothing and owns 33 homes. BABE: It was 1925. LINDA: Sand and gravel, ashes and store. So he goes from his buggy to his truck. Now, who's Charles? BABE: That's my oldest brother. LINDA: Your oldest brother. Okay, so your brothers went into business with him? BABE: Yep. LINDA: All six of them? BABE: We all worked for him. We all worked for him. We built a lot of gas stations, too. We had quite a team. Because amongst the team there was my father, who strictly did supervisory work, figured the job and things like that. And then we had Charlie, who was [unintelligible - 00:27:09] equipment as well as piping and so forth; Red was a great laborer; Rico was a carpenter first class; I was a mason, but what I picked -- I went to trade school to be a mason, you know. So when we would get on a job we were pretty much able to do quite a bit of it ourselves. LINDA: Now, who's Red and Rico? Are those brothers? Red and Rico? BABE: Brothers. LINDA: So those are nicknames? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: For who? 14 BABE: Well, DeMazzio and Enrico. LINDA: And where did you get your nickname? BABE: Babe? After 11 kids it's time to call somebody Babe. No, my sister Lena gave it to me as she said when I was a baby at that time. LINDA: So how did your brother Red learn how to build pipe for -- what did you say that he did? BABE: When you run a gas station there's a lot of pipings involved. You know, water and gasoline and so forth. That was how he -- my brother Red was a hard worker and the one that never asked for too much and always -- education-wise Red was very, very limited. In fact, one of the side stories on that is he couldn't learn his general orders in the Army, and as a result of it, on his record, they said he would never be anything other than a private, and he couldn't get any Class A pass. So they went overseas, and he had two companies that he was in that were completely all injured or so forth, and he became the top sergeant of the whole group. So he knew what to do when it was important. He had the smarts for that, but as far as the learning he just didn't have the ability to learn. LINDA: So, how did you all learn and know -- was it, were you apprenticed? Did you have any kind of… BABE: No, no you just learned from one another. That's how [unintelligible - 00:29:19] families just keep going, and it was just, you know, you started off -- and our father knew what was what and we picked it up real fast and just kept going on it. LINDA: Can you tell me or share with me an early experience of working with your father? BABE: Well, I just started, just jumped and started doing it. In fact, I was 15 years old and I built the gas station on the corner of Walnut and Main Street in Leominster. I was supervisor and so forth because they had other jobs, but it all came natural. I just enjoyed it and I just did it. In fact, 15 when I was with the trade school, at the end of the school year I was in the brick mason department, and the instructor told me, "Don't come back; you're wasting your time." LINDA: Wow. And is that why you didn't go back? BABE: Well, I had to go to work. LINDA: Well, bring me back though to a day when you're working with your father. What was it like? Did you all kind of disperse and go to different jobs? BABE: Go to different jobs. He never drove, so one of us had to drive him. One thing about him he was very honest, and he was very thorough. In fact whether we were doing a job contractor or day work he would even tell us, you do the same thing whether it's day work or contract, even if you lose money. So you know, with a bringing up like that, you can't go wrong. So of course when I was very young and we were doing a lawn on Berne Avenue, and we had the big roll that you use to roll with, and I was very young and the roll was banking, and I'll never forget I came close to the bank and I couldn't hold the roll, and it went down and right through a flower garden. That was one of the unpleasant days. [Unintelligible - 00:31:33] let me know that I did wrong. He never hit us or anything like that. But I was worried for a while on that score. But then I'd go figure jobs and then he'd take me with him, because I'm the one that probably liked it the most and did it the most. That was good days. I enjoyed it. I never resented -- I think he taught us an awful lot, so we couldn't lose with that combination. And with a mother that would watch us like we're all just a baby -- whether you're six years old or 40 years old, she wouldn't go to sleep until you were in the house. It was good times under the conditions. As I said though, we didn't know better. If I did that like -- I know that many a times on the job when things 16 were that the -- come time to eat and all we had the money for was probably a cheese sandwich or something like, that you know, just limited, which is -- my son now later on was putting in overhead doors, he had a business he did that, and he was developing by the South Shore there and he came home and he said, "Dad, you know I forgot my money today," he says, "I didn't eat." "What do you mean you didn't have no money at all?" He said "Well, I only had a dollar." I said, "You know, you still could have had a cheese sandwich." He said, "Dad, those days are gone." So that's the difference. LINDA: So, when you'd go with your father to figure jobs you said, did someone call him? Not call him probably, but contact him to build something? BABE: Yeah, people would call from his advertisement. He did advertise, and they'd call him too. You know, a lot of people wanted bids; you have to bid it. So I'd go with him a lot of times and do the bidding and help him do the bidding and so forth. As I grew older. LINDA: So would he write a contract out and then have a company sign it, or…? BABE: Most of the time you just did it with the individual, it was all by -- in those days everything was with a good shake hand, which they meant. Very rarely was there a contract drawn up. Unless it was a big job, and then they'd have that. LINDA: And who was his competitor? BABE: A lot of competitors. There was a lot of competitors. Must have been -- Leominster probably had about 15 to 20 contractors at the time when it got to contracting. LINDA: Were there any other Italians? BABE: Oh yeah. There was probably half a dozen or so I think Italians. LINDA: Did your father apprentice anyone? Did anyone begin working with him and then venture out on their own? BABE: Well, we wouldn't call it apprentice. They just did that, which is the American way to do things. You never met anybody better than 17 themselves, so that -- yeah, we had somebody. I mean, that never bothered him. LINDA: How long did your father do this kind of work? BABE: Until he retired at about age -- he stopped working I think at about age 60. LINDA: And did the company survive? Did the sons take it over? BABE: Well, what happened, we kept the thing going quite a while. Even by that time, the brothers, we went into the manufacturing of concrete blocks on a real production method. We used to manufacture quite a few a day, and that became our sole business then. LINDA: So tell me about that then. BABE: Well, we came back from the Army, and with the -- three of us were veterans, and we got a loan from the government on the G.I. Bill, and we bought this production machinery and put up a whole plant and went into manufacturing of concrete blocks all type on full production. We used to make at that time about 4,000 blocks a day and get out -- plus the building supplies that went with it. And my father first saw [unintelligible - 00:36:15] he gave us the land and he also would watch the building of it when we did that. That was in 1945. In 1946 we started selling the blocks from our new plant. LINDA: And what was the name of the company? BABE: Blocks Incorporated. LINDA: Blocks Incorporated. And you and your three brothers started… BABE: And myself yeah. [Unintelligible - 00:36:42] Well, there were three veterans, but then one wasn't there. One didn't go into the Army and he was part of the corporation. LINDA: So four brothers plus yourself? BABE: No, four brothers. LINDA: Oh, four brothers. Three [unintelligible - 00:36:55]. So you would make these blocks and then sell them to… BABE: To whoever wanted to buy them. LINDA: Do you have advertisement for that company too? 18 BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Good. And how long did you do this? BABE: We did it up until 1979. LINDA: Oh, so what happened to the business? BABE: Well, at the age of all of us at that time it was time to liquidate it, and we did. We just sold off the -- we had an auction for the equipment, we sold the real estate, and by that time we were all -- other than myself all my brothers were ready to retire. Well, one other brother, the one next older to me, he had passed away. So it was just the two oldest brothers, and it was too much at that time to run the business of that, because we built another plant after that. The original plant was at -- our second plant we were doing 8,000 a day, so -- but it's, it was competitive, and getting out to sell them and everything else, it was quite a job. So I decided -- well, what happened was actually while I was out doing all my things at the time, I left. I was still part owner, but I left to do my motels and everything else with it, and they did get in trouble financially. And I went in and helped them straighten it out again, and when we straightened it out. That's when I told them we're selling the business, and so that's what we did. So we sold it in good graces [unintelligible - 00:38:47]. LINDA: So did any of your sons -- well, you have one son, but you must have some nephews. They didn't want to take over the business? BABE: We tried and it didn't work out. My son actually went to college and so forth, so he didn't fit into that. Then my -- there weren't too many boys in the family [unintelligible - 00:39:12], and Red had two boys, and one didn't want nothing to do with it all, and the other tried and he didn't like it. So it really was limited as to who could run it after that. LINDA: Now, did you sell the blocks locally or out of state, too? BABE: Well, out of state, New Hampshire, we sell New Hampshire. And we made a special block that we did one delivery in New York City with a special block, but we also had -- my brother had invented a new face for the blocks, and the -- it was a glazed block, and we did manufacture them, 19 and there are three school in Leominster have them. The Army has it in Leominster, and we sold a school in Gill, Mass. and [unintelligible - 00:40:07] and in Worcester, so that we did do quite well with that glazed block, which did very, very good. But like I say, age probably got that business why we finally sold it. LINDA: So the blocks though were they pretty standard size? BABE: They were all standard. LINDA: And then it only changed when your brother invented the glaze? BABE: Well, they were a standard block; it was just something added to it. LINDA: Added. Did he patent that invention? BABE: We worked on patenting it, but surprisingly when you patent something, there's always something close to it. In other words they did a whole lot of research on it and we didn't think it was patentable at the end, because the concrete goes way back year and years and years, and there's always somebody that did something close to it that you -- it just wasn't patentable. LINDA: So how did he develop the glaze? Do you know? BABE: Just working at it. In other words he just -- that was Joe, and Joe was the one in the family that was probably ahead on thinking of doing things and so forth. He was the one that always experimented, in other words, come up with ideas of doing special things. LINDA: So during the time as you're part owner of this company, you did other things. Can you explain? BABE: Did he do other things? LINDA: Yes. BABE: Yes, I did all those things that you wrote down in the book there. There were a few of them. LINDA: Yeah, I know. But could you explain some of them? BABE: Okay. What do you want me to start off? Which one, the first one, the ice cream place? 20 LINDA: Is that the first one that you started? BABE: Maybe I had a little of father in me that you do different things, you know. I went to an auction, and they had an ice cream machine, a brand new one, at the auction for sale, and I bought it for $1,000. And before I left, the salesman that sold it from the Mills Company came there and he found out that I bought it, and he offered me $1,500 for it. The minute he said that I immediately said if this thing is worth $1,500 to the salesman, I'm going to see what this machine will do. And I built an ice cream place around it. That was the beginning of Babe's Ice Cream at the time. LINDA: And where was that located? BABE: On Route 12. LINDA: Route 12. BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:42:44] started that, which is very interesting. We were going to open up on July 4th, and this was in 1950. On July 2nd it was one of those hot, miserable days, miserable, real miserable, [unintelligible - 00:42:56]. And this busload pulls in. There was 38 people on the bus, and one came out. They were monks from Rhode Island of the Vow of Silence, and one came in and he said could he please have 38 glasses of water. So my wife and I packed up 38 sandwiches, 38 ice creams, 38 cold drinks, and the bus leaves. And as the bus is going out of the circular driveway, there's a bus leaving, people just funneled in. And of course I knew most of them, and they said, "Babe, how can you be so lucky that you aren't even open and you get them by the busload?" not knowing what happened. And I said I hope I don't get too many busloads, I don't want to close before I get -- so that's how we started that there. But it growed real fast after that, just kept on growing and growing and growing. It meant nothing to sell a thousand ice cream cones on a Sunday afternoon. LINDA: So you knew nothing about ice cream? 21 BABE: I knew nothing about ice cream. I knew nothing about motels, and I built a motel and ran that. I bought another motel and ran that. But the -- I didn't know anything about subdivisions, but I did that. I think a lot of my father's in me. In other words, you just keep going. As long as you do what's right, work hard, you accomplish it. In other words I won't take no for an answer when it comes to trying to do business. Because I've had people, when I went into the [unintelligible - 00:44:41] and doing hardware, I didn't mention that one. When we were doing hardware, in other words it was on the wholesale level to sell to contractors. I did that, and that was very, very difficult because they felt that I should have went to school, you know, because you got to know what hardware's proper for certain jobs. You've got to know your fire codes and so forth. And a lot of people in the beginning wouldn't sell me. They said in other words we don't want to sell to you, you do things wrong and it could come back to us. So I made it clear to them if I got to go from here to California I'm going into the business and I'm going to buy the stuff. You're either going to sell it to me or somebody else is going to sell it to me. And what that did, I got them, built up that business, which was real good. So I just did it. I think maybe I was just blind. I just went into some of these things. We got kind of carried away. We're supposed to be talking on the Italian Colony, aren't we? ROSA: This is all part of that. LINDA: This is all part of it. But as far as getting the ice cream machine and maybe the motel, were you just in the right place at the right time? Just kind of… BABE: That's probably the story of my life, yeah. I think that -- I really believe the gift of the seventh son really played a part on me. Because everything always works out. 22 LINDA: So would you like to tell us a little more about Lincoln Terrace? You're the first person I've interviewed, I'm thinking, isn't it true that grew up on Lincoln Terrace? BABE: You read this book? LINDA: I've looked at it. I haven't finished it. BABE: You haven't finished it? LINDA: No. BABE: Our family's mentioned in that quite a few times. But first of all he just about hit it on the way it was, you know. It was close-knit, Lincoln Terrace, and it was different than what today is. If you did something wrong and somebody scolded you and you went back and told your parents that the neighbor or whoever it was did this to you, you would get a call down again from him. It isn't that knock at the door saying what -- like today, you got assault and battery like that. In other words, they all watched one another. It was really a family unit up there. So you couldn't do anything wrong, and if anybody came on the street that wasn't part of the street, everybody knew about it and they watched them. So it was quite a neighborhood, it really was. And like I say, we enjoyed the -- now, the early part of it is I can look the -- they all had gardens the way they all had pigs in the back of the house, and when the fall of the year come they would all slaughter and they'd all help one another. I got that on film by the way, 8 mm. LINDA: What, the slaughtering the pigs? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Oh, that's interesting. Now, was there a smokehouse? BABE: No. They did things themselves. They take the hams and they make the prosciutto out of those. You know how they do that? LINDA: Nuh-uh. BABE: Actually, they take the hind of the pig, and they really salt it and pepper it, all that it will take, and then they put it in most cases in the cellar up 23 against some beam or another beam, and then with a hydraulic jack or whatever kind of a jack, they keep squeezing it until the ham starts this big until it [unintelligible - 00:48:37] that big, but the salt and the pepper is actually curing it out. You heard of that, did you? No? So they did that. They made the meat, they made the sausages. Very few people used to cook the blood. We never did that, but a few of them did and make the… use that. But the whole pork chops, the whole thing, they saved every bit of it. LINDA: Now, did most people have a pig? BABE: In Lincoln Terrace they did. LINDA: They did. BABE: Yep, in those days. LINDA: So they'd all get together on one day and … BABE: They always worked together. Helped one another do things. LINDA: Was that day called something in particular? BABE: No. LINDA: No. BABE: No, and then like the -- I got a large grapevine. See, the whole hill did [unintelligible - 00:49:37] grape used to make his own wine. Then they all had big gardens. And another thing the Italian women up on Lincoln Terrace, on tomato time they would actually make tomato paste. I don't know if you ever saw that. They would have all these boards of pine nice and clean, they spread all the tomato on it, and then put one of those nets on it that they used to cover babies in a carriage to keep the flies out and so forth. And just by working that they made their own tomato paste. And they'd do all different things like that, you know, which they don't do today. It's easier to go to the store today and buy it. 24 LINDA: So when they slaughtered the pig and they made the prosciutto and et cetera… BABE: [Unintelligible - 00:50:24]. LINDA: When they slaughtered the pig, how did they store the -- how did they store what they had made? BABE: Mostly in the cellar. The meats [unintelligible - 00:50:34] like they'd make the sausage and they'd hang them up to dry. They had them covered and they'd hang them up to dry, and they would dry until they dried out with the [unintelligible - 00:50:45] it was all ice boxes what they had then, you know. But they'd have a place in the cellar which was damp enough or so forth that would last -- none of it wasted; they certainly ate it all before anything got to be wasted. LINDA: Was there any trading between families? BABE: I wouldn't say so, no. They had it all. They would give it to somebody like that, but there wouldn't be any trading. If somebody needed something, they would give it to them. LINDA: For some reason I can't remember what you call this, but when you dig out, let's say, a little hill when you keep food in it, what is that called? BABE: They didn't do that. They had it all in the cellar. ROSA: They just used the cellar cold. They can't do it today -- you can't do it today with the heat in the houses, but in those days the cellars were damp and cold sausages could be strung up in the rafters. And prosciutto. They made their sausages with the tubing, I remember seeing them. LINDA: Was that a long process, making the sausage? BABE: Well you got a 300-pound pig; you got a little work to do. You've got quite a bit of meat there to… ROSA: They'd grind it … LINDA: Now, was that woman's work, men's work? BABE: Oh, they all worked. The women did the cooking. They did a lot of that there, and the women probably -- some of the women would put the 25 [rosin] in the hot water to clean the hair of the animals. Hot water and rosin [unintelligible - 00:52:29] take the hair all off. LINDA: Was the skin used for anything? BABE: Yeah, they cooked that up. ROSA: Salt pork. BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So that's really what salt pork is? BABE: There was no waste. Probably threw the hoof away, didn't use that. ROSA: The head. LINDA: Did they throw the head away, or did they use part of it? BABE: Some people ate the head. Yeah some did. We didn't. ROSA: The ears, too. BABE: They all had chickens. LINDA: [Unintelligible - 00:53:05] throw the head away! BABE: And they all had chickens. In fact, my mother had her own little hobby [unintelligible - 00:53:11] times she had chickens and the eggs, and you know, feed the family, and if there's any eggs over she would sell them to the neighbor. So she would do that. My mother never learned to speak English too well even though she did the answering for my father, but it was -- my father could interpret what she would say even though she was saying it wrong. Like there was a company called Bowen and Fuller in Leominster, and my father always said this to people that they called my mother and have your husband come, we've got some deliveries to make, and she asked what company they said Bowen and Fuller. She said "Damn Fool?" He said no, Bowen and Fuller. She asked two or three times and yes. So my father came home, and she said, "Damn Fool wants you to pick up." So he knew them when he went there. The guy says, [unintelligible - 00:54:09] your message and the guy says yes. But they did understand one another. Of course the guy knew that she wasn't doing it to insult him 26 or anything. She didn't know any different on that. But she never learned the -- very, very little English. My father, working with the French people, he learned to speak French, and he learned the English right away, and of course he had the Italian. LINDA: Well, what about you and your brothers and sisters? Did you speak Italian? BABE: We understood it and so forth. They can speak it, but very [unintelligible - 00:54:50], and I can understand quite a bit what happens. Incidentally the three oldest children went to a French school at that time, and they learned French also. LINDA: What school? St. Cecelia's? BABE: St. Cecelia's, yeah. They went three years and then the French people needed a school for themselves and they transferred to St. [unintelligible - 00:55:14] school. LINDA: Now, I heard some people tell me that they weren't allowed to speak Italian in their homes after they learned English at school. Was that true for your family? BABE: Nope. No, we always spoke it. But my wife now, when she came over -- she came from Italy, and I didn't -- and when she came home with the school -- she's not from here, she's from Pennsylvania. But she refused to learn English until the teachers got -- one friendly teacher, "But why don't you want to learn?" She says, "I won't be able to speak to my mother and father then." She thought she'd lose the English. And after that day she made all kinds of honors in school. So she -- but in our house, now, my children, two of them they didn't speak -- we never spoke in Italian, but -- so we [unintelligible - 00:56:12] secret family thing when you're in front of the children, we'd speak Italian, my wife and I, not to be heard, but that's all done now because my daughter went out and became a professor of Italian history, so that brought us out. We can't even… 27 LINDA: So was it important for your family, your father and mother, for their children to assimilate, to become more American? BABE: We never discussed that. I don't think that ever came a thing -- you do the best you can do. That was about the biggest teaching that my father ever gave. Do the best you can do, stay out of trouble. And the other thing he always was a stickler for was he said you always respect authority. He said if someone does something wrong you respect it, you do it when you come home, you tell me about it, and I will take care of it. Of course it was just [unintelligible - 00:57:06] he never did anything everything after it, but meanwhile he kept peace in the family. LINDA: So he didn't want you to confront an adult; he would. BABE: Nope, and you know, in most cases you don't win with authority. You listen to it, and that's it. LINDA: So tell me about your mother. What was she like? BABE: My mother was strictly a loving for her children. She'd do anything for us. To quote my wife, which we shouldn't put on tape… LINDA: You don't want to? BABE: No, I'll tell you what my wife says about my mother. If it's not on tape. LINDA: If it's not on tape, okay. BABE: One of the things that happened though before [unintelligible - 00:57:56] we got married, my wife would go with my sister shopping and so forth. And in our house everybody -- they're all married now, but everybody would end up at the kitchen table at nighttime after the day's work, and my mother would -- you know, there was just the two of them, my mother and father at home, but there was always two or three pounds of spaghetti made, and we'd all eat there and then go home and say we're not hungry. But there was this one day we're there and my wife and my sister went shopping. They were late when they came in, so my brother-in-law and I said so let's have some fun. So the minute they came in, I says "Tina, where have you been? You know I worked all hard all day. I come home 28 and I want to eat." And so she says, "Well, we shopped." And my mother spoke up, she says, "That's not right. You got to feed your husband when he comes…" Well, then my brother-in-law to my sister says the same thing, you know. And my mother spoke up, and maybe she had something important to do. Same conversation. So -– but she was [unintelligible - 00:59:07] she was sick for a while. She had lost one eye too, and so for a while she was a -- but she could find -- after that she could find things that we couldn't, with that one eye. We would lose something and she would find it, even a pin or something like that, but… LINDA: Did she come from -- she came from Italy but differently than your father? I mean … BABE: Three years later. 1909 she came. LINDA: Did she come directly to Leominster? BABE: Well, she landed in Boston. Now, how she got there from Italy I don't have any information on that. LINDA: Do you know how your parents met each other? BABE: Probably out in the farm someplace, I would guess, because that's all they did; they were farmers. Even the woman worked the farms out there and so forth. So, a lot of them out there worked in [unintelligible - 01:00:03] actually who worked for the people that owned the land. LINDA: Where? BABE: In Italy. LINDA: Oh, they knew each other in Italy? BABE: Oh yeah. LINDA: Oh. 29 BABE: When she came here she -- well, that picture there shows her when she came in 19 -- with her children there, that's the picture when she came in 1909. LINDA: Okay. BABE: One of those. LINDA: Okay, so they knew each other in Italy? BABE: Yeah, they got married in Italy. They got married in Italy. LINDA: Then came here separately. BABE: Yes. LINDA: Not at the same time? BABE: No. LINDA: Okay, I didn't understand that. Did they have children [unintelligible - 01:00:45]? BABE: Yeah, yeah. This one here it was 1910 when she came. There was three of them. There was the three. They would be 1, 2, 3 that she came back with. Of course she came here in 1909, 1910 there was another one added at that time. LINDA: So your father came without the family first and then brought them over? BABE: They all did that. They all boarded. If you will look at the directory, they all, the Italians all boarded someplace. They -- none of them had their own home or anything like that in the beginning, so their wives came over and then they would find a place. LINDA: So growing up and you're working with your father, did you work six days a week? BABE: Sometimes seven. Not too often, but sometimes we'd have things to do and we'd do it. So in other words you have to realize when I got to the working age, I was in the Depression, actually. So you took it as you could get it as far as work is concerned. LINDA: Did you work out during the daylight hours? 30 BABE: Oh yeah. We generally got home [unintelligible - 01:02:06] unless there was an emergency job you stayed later. We'd get home about five, five thirty from a job, start at eight o'clock in the morning. LINDA: And then you would eat dinner with your parents? BABE: Mm-hmm. LINDA: And who made the dinner? BABE: My mother. LINDA: What about your sisters? BABE: They were married by that time. Don't forget, they were completely -- they were much older than I was, so they were -- by the time that I started eating, you know, they were married. LINDA: So tell me what kind of things you ate. The types of things your mother made. BABE: All the good things that I like. LINDA: Which is what? BABE: She made spaghetti, pasta [la jour], even polenta. I know you know what that is. LINDA: Mm-hmm. BABE: In those days that was a poor man's meal. Today you go in restaurants you pay a fancy price for it. LINDA: I should have said no, I don't know what it is so you can explain to us on tape. I'll have to get that sometime. So what's polenta? BABE: Lentils, I like lentils. She used to make that, different soups. I'm sorry, what did you say? LINDA: What's polenta? What is it? BABE: Corn -- mush is what it is, actually. LINDA: How would she serve that? BABE: We'd put it on the board, on the table, you spread it all over a board, and then what we'd do, the fun we'd have is try to decide what we're going to carve, and everybody would just carve whatever shape we wanted. And another thing she'd do too at times would be so we would eat all of it, 31 she'd put meat in the middle, and you had to work your way. If you didn't work your way you wouldn't get to the meat. You know, whether it was a meatball a piece of pork chop something like that. LINDA: So it was kind of polite eating. You eat from the outside in? You don't just dig in. BABE: No, no you have to work your way in, clean the road as you go. But on holidays, surprisingly, my father would do the cooking. I know on Easter especially he would make the ham and fix it all up and put the garlic in it and so forth. He always did that. LINDA: Now, during the Depression, did you eat meat at all, or was that really a luxury? BABE: It was a luxury. LINDA: Were different foods prepared on a Sunday compared to the rest of the week? BABE: Yes, Sunday you would have a bigger meal. And during the height of the Depression, we'd probably get oranges at Christmastime, maybe a banana at Christmastime. The rest of the year you didn't need it, so you didn't get it. LINDA: Do you want to go back to your jobs then? BABE: My jobs? LINDA: Yeah, jobs. BABE: Such as? LINDA: Or your companies or your interests. Like the motels. How did you get involved in the motels? BABE: Well, we went out to get some materials. It was in New Jersey, picking up some pallets for the block plant at that time, and it was next door to a motel, the pallets and so forth, and I started talking to the fellow and so forth. And [unintelligible - 01:05:44] the business, and now I had the ice cream place, I had the tourist stopping, so the brain just clicked in it would be nice to have a motel in Leominster. We had none. That was the first one. So that's what I did. I built a motel. 32 LINDA: Where did you build it? BABE: On Route 12 right next to my ice cream place. So that -- I didn't have any money at that time, so that was a problem. I went to the bank, it was the first bank I went to, told them I wanted $25,000, to borrow $25,000, said what are you going to do and I explained. They said you can't do that for that price. I said oh yes, I can I buy all my materials wholesale, and I do all the work myself. And he said well, in that case you have to give me a list of what it's going to cost you because I can only loan you 80 percent of what you're going to pay. So my answer to him was you really don't want me to build the motel, do you? But I fought it. Like I say, I made up my mind I was going to fight it and I did, so I just kept going and we built it. LINDA: So did you end up borrowing the money from a bank? BABE: Oh yeah, I got money from a bank—not that bank though, another bank. But then I started with eight rooms and built another eight and built another eight, and then four more on that same site, and so that worked out good. That was a good business. LINDA: And you kept the ice cream business in addition? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So who ran the motel? BABE: Hmm? LINDA: Who ran the motel? BABE: I did. There was nobody else to run it. My wife was busy with the children at that time. LINDA: I thought there were only 24 hours in a day! That's why I'm asking. BABE: Well, I still slept three hours. You get up in the morning at eight o'clock. About eight we'd go have some breakfast and then close about two o'clock. Three nights a week I'd make ice cream until about three or four o'clock in the morning. Then with the motel beside it, you get -- break up during the night, people checking in late, so that was the schedule for a number of years. 33 LINDA: Where were you living at this time? BABE: We built a house in back of the motel and ice cream place. LINDA: Okay. So did you advertise for the motel? BABE: Yeah, we did advertise on that. LINDA: So who was staying in the motel, people visiting? BABE: We had -- mostly it was a commercial motel and we had mostly salesmen, engineers, buyers. It was all very good class of business that we had, and tourists and so forth, but we had quite a reputation that we even had quite a few of the national companies that if they were within 50 miles of our place such as Gates Rubber from Colorado, Singer Sewing Machine, if any of their people were within 50 miles of our motel, we had direct billing with them, they'd stop with us. But we made it very, very comfortable for them, because we learned very early that a salesman or an engineer or anybody that's traveling alone is the most lonesome guy in the world. So the thing that we would do is if a guy comes in and he could be with the plastic industry, he's alone, somebody else we know is in the motel in the plastic business he's alone, we have them meet one another. They'd go out and from then on they'd come back, because they knew that it was always -- they were going to meet somebody there instead of just sitting in a room all night long. And we built up a wonderful business that way. In fact, even -- we had a regular customer of ours once got in an automobile accident, and he couldn't go back home and we were full, and we asked [unintelligible - 01:09:51] two people of other customers that one of our customers was in an accident and can't go home, would you mind packing up and leaving? They did. LINDA: Wow. BABE: You know, which is so unusual. We explained what it was, but even that was a family affair that they would. It was a lot of fun. We had a lot of 34 fun doing that. One of the regulars that came in would we would always be pulling jokes, stuff like -- one time he brought somebody in and my wife was in Florida with her mother at the time, so I don't know what made me do it, but this guy was saying I've got to meet your wife, I hear so much about it from the other guys. So I said, yeah, but you know, when you talk to her she's hard of hearing, so then I pick up my wife and I said this wonderful guy from Chicago is in room 9. Wonderful guy. He was doing management surveys for the [unintelligible - 01:10:58] on Adams Street. So I told Tina he's hard of hearing. So now when they come in, they're all there, because they always -- we had a lawn area that we sit at, and so I said, Tina there's the guy, so, "How are you," and they're hollering like two idiots back and forth, and everybody starts laughing. But it was good for a joke. But they all accepted it as such, and that's it. Now, the one I got to say on the ice cream place now, I'm going to take a [unintelligible - 01:11:30] had his favorite place. I gave ice cream to every church in Leominster but my own. We'll have to continue. LINDA: We were talking about you had a story about churches and giving ice cream. BABE: Yes, I gave ice cream to every church in Leominster but St. Anne's, my church. Because what would happen, even the synagogues, the Jewish would call up and they want ice cream, how much is it. And I'd say $5 a tub. When I'd bring it up I'd give them a receipted bill. My own people, when they'd call, they'd say, "Oh, we can buy it for $4.50," so I never had the opportunity to give it to them, right? LINDA: Really? BABE: That was in six years I think I gave to every church in Leominster but my own. Now, I never told them I was going to give it to them for nothing. They asked me what the price was. The price was $5 a tub. So I guess that's all right. We all still made it. 35 LINDA: How long did you keep the ice cream? BABE: From 1950 to 1958. LINDA: And what about the motel? BABE: Motel, sold that in '64. LINDA: You had two didn't you? BABE: Yep, sold the other one about the same time. The other one I bought. I didn't build the other one. LINDA: And what was that, West… BABE: West [unintelligible - 01:12:59] Motel. LINDA: Is that the one that's across from -- well, it's Sam's now -- I mean, not Sam's, Walmart. Is that the one? BABE: No, it's up further. It's at the junction of 110 and 12. LINDA: All right. So again, give me an idea of what a day was like for you when you owned both the ice cream shop and the motel. BABE: Hectic. Get up in the morning, help out at the place… you know, noon time was busy there and so forth. And then at night start checking in people at the motel, then come back and make the ice cream. Like I said, I did all my building in the wintertime, too. [Unintelligible - 01:13:48] like I built the motel myself, I did that all. And the other thing we did during that time again was one summer, which was really -- my wife got me involved, and we built -- with the people of Leominster now, they're very generous; we built a swimming pool for the Nazareth Home for Boys. So I'm the owner, I'm doing the blocks, and I'm doing all the rebuilding of it. And people always like to have fun, and I had fellows working for me, a police officer mowing my lawn at the motel and stuff. And I know that the day I laid blocks I was just about dead, and I come home and [unintelligible - 01:14:35] is really doing good you hired people to do work for you, you're getting lazy. 36 But that was all, it was a lot of work, just busy, busy. But I enjoyed it. I think someone said one time that work won't kill you, and it didn't. LINDA: It sounds like your wife was supportive. Very supportive. BABE: Yeah, she is. She did. She had to take care of the children, and she also, at the same time, she was taking care of her sister's. She was one of the waitress I had. She had to waitress, she took care of their two children too, then at night she would come up and help with serving customers. Although she was a troublemaker. She's the one that liked to joke with the customers. For example, we used to have -- a new product came out, the ketchup that you squeeze it, the pump it, they called it. On Saturday night we'd get those big gang of dancers come in, dress suits, ties. So this one guy was trying to get the ketchup on and it wouldn't work on a hamburger. We said, "Tina, why don't you throw these away? They don't work." So she says, "You don't mind if I squeeze it at you?" "Go ahead," he says, so of course, ketchup all the way down his face. She never worked on Saturdays, but one Saturday she's working and one of our good customers from Connecticut would come by every Saturday with his wife and family going to New Hampshire camping. I'm outside talking to the guys and he came out and said, "You know, I don't know who that new waitress you got, but you better fire her or you won't have no customers left." I said, "Which one?" I said, "I can't fire her, she owns it!" But it was always funny, and I think that's what kept it going. It wasn't -- we enjoyed it, and that's probably what kept us going. We didn't look at it as a job or as work. We looked at it as something to do, and we were happy while we did it. LINDA: Did you have many employees? 37 BABE: Well, probably on the weekends was the most. It was probably about eight or nine of us on a weekend working. LINDA: Working at the ice cream shop, or… BABE: As far as the motel, it only required -- two girls would work just in the morning. That was separate girls, you know. A few hours they would have the rooms all ready. Then my children, we had the miniature golf. LINDA: Oh, that's right did. You built the miniature golf next to the ice cream shop? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: Now, where did you get that idea? BABE: I saw one, and I thought it would be nice to have, so I built one. LINDA: So, again, would that be the first miniature golf place in Leominster? BABE: No, there had been one for years and years up on North Main Street behind the bowling alleys. The motel was the first one in Leominster. LINDA: Well, then tell me about building the miniature golf. You actually designed it and built it? BABE: No, I didn't design it. The people I bought the equipment from did the designing of it. But I built it, I put it in there. Everything was designed by them, and I bought all the fixtures and so forth from them. LINDA: And then your children worked there? BABE: Yeah. LINDA: So how did you and your wife feel about education for your children? BABE: We felt tops for education. We probably made a couple of mistakes educating our children. To be very honest, I think St. Ann's, my son went there, and I think that was a mistake because there was [unintelligible - 01:18:44] 60 kids in the first grade. And had he went to where I went to school, they had 11 children. It would have been almost like a private tutoring. So what we did with him to pick up, we sent him to Julie Country Day afterwards, which is a private school, and from there he went to Worcester Academy. LINDA: I guess I'm interested to know how something like that happens. 38 BABE: Like what? LINDA: Like that you went to the 9th grade, you said, and your father is an immigrant who came over here to work so hard, and you know, he may not have had much schooling, and then all of a sudden your son is going to Worcester Academy. BABE: Because I wanted him to go there. LINDA: Because you wanted him… BABE: Oh yeah. LINDA: And why did you want him… BABE: In fact, [unintelligible - 01:19:34] when people ask me what I did I say I'm a bum. And of course my son must have heard me two or three times and, I know when he was ready to go to college, he said, "Dad, I don't want to go to college. I want to be a bum." I said, "You're going to be an educated bum." And he went to college, which he did very, very good [unintelligible - 01:19:51]. But no, we felt that the he lacked the basic knowledge at the very beginning. /AT/pa/mlb/es

Gary A.C. Young September 16, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Gary Young. The interview was conducted on September 16, 2013, by Lorrie Rands, at the Stewart Library. Gary discusses his experiences with 25th Street. ; 27p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Gary A.C. Young Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 16 September 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Gary A.C. Young Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 16 September 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Young, Gary A.C., an oral history by Lorrie Rands, 16 September 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Gary A.C. Young September 16, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Gary Young. The interview was conducted on September 16, 2013, by Lorrie Rands, at the Stewart Library. Gary discusses his experiences with 25th Street. LR: It is Monday, September 16, 2013 and we are here in Special Collections at Weber State University Stewart Library conducting an oral history interview with Gary Cosmo Young. I am Lorrie Rands doing the interview and Rebecca White Sides is on the camera. I know I said thank you already, but I'll say it again for the record, I appreciate your time and willingness to come up and do this. Let's start with something simple, when and where were you born? GY: I was born here in Ogden and the old McKay Dee Hospital. It is a park now. LR: When was that? GY: April 25, 1937. LR: Where did you live at that time? GY: We lived on Washington Boulevard about 26th Street in some apartments there. I don't recall anything up until I was probably five or six years old because it was a confusing childhood. Next thing that really I remember was that I was a foster child in the Utah System. My mother had both my brother and me taken away from her by the state of Utah because my father had died of a heart attack and she was working two jobs to support herself as a waitress, my aunt intervened and said, "You're an unfit mother," and got the LDS church involved and we got taken away from her. The next thing I know we were in foster care and I lived 1 with two sets of foster parents. One was out in Clinton and the other was out on highway 89 in a house that's no longer there. I do remember them. Their names were Archie and Cora Hill. Next thing I knew we ended up in California, in Orland, California. It's way up north by Chico and we lived on a farm up there. My mom took care of the calves and the cows and my brother, Richard, and I did the same for the chickens. Of course, my mother got us back after three years in foster care and remarried and my stepdad who worked for the SP Railroad as a conductor. That's why we were up there and we moved from there down to Sparks, Nevada for one year and then we came to Ogden to 2535 Lincoln and that's where things started happening. LR: How old were you when you moved to the house on Lincoln? GY: It was probably 1946. LR: So not quite ten. GY: Yes. LR: So, once you were there, what were some of the fun things you would do growing up on 25th Street? GY: We did about anything to stir things up as kids. Mom worked full-time—at one time she had a job at Nicholas Grocery on 25th Street just above Lincoln and she worked as a cashier there—but most of her life she worked as a waitress in the different cafes around. We were sort of free, you didn't need babysitters back then, you didn't even lock your door. We used to play football in the field with a bunch of the kids. We just did different things to raise hell. We got firecrackers, 2 which were illegal and set them off and scared the bums that were in the different areas of the city. I had a friend that lived across the street, in fact, we called each other cousins, and he was a couple of years younger than me. His mom had a bear skin rug inside her house and it was a good sized one. One day we took that and I put it over me and put my hands inside where the claws were and we went on 25th Street in and out of the bars begging for money. We only stopped because when I went in the Kokomo Club, I went over to one of the booths and I sort of stood up and growled and the woman screamed and whatever drink she was drinking it was a mixed drink and it had milk in it or something and she threw it all over me and the bear skin rug, so that stopped that day. LR: Would you do a lot of that going to the bars and trying to bum money from the bums? GY: Oh yeah, and the drunks in there. We would come on with a poor little orphan kid or some story like that. I sold newspapers on 25th Street. The Standard Examiner, I also delivered the Salt Lake Telegram to quite a few homes and that was an evening paper out of Salt Lake. It was the evening paper of the salt lake Tribune at the time. LR: Any fun stories doing that, selling the paper? GY: I remember one snow storm and my boss whose name was Mr. Peterson, I said, "I'm not going out in that snow." I had to bike from my house all the way up to Harrison Boulevard. There were very few customers they had, but they were scattered, I probably covered a five mile radius every night. I told him I wasn't going out in that snow storm and he said, "Yes you are." I said, 'Nope, you can 3 have it." And that's when I quit. I supplemented my income by shining shoes on 25th Street. There was a barbershop by the Depot Drug about two doors up from Wall Avenue on the North side and I shined shoes in there and also in the Union depot. At that time, it was very busy with a lot of military personnel coming and going. They had, what I remember, there were 22 tracks and there were trains on every one of them. It's unbelievable to what you see now. I don't have any pictures of that, I wish I had, but we didn't have money in those days. LR: What other kind of jobs did you have to supplement your income? GY: I mowed lawns. It was the manual push mower. I did those things and I picked cherries for Floyd Woodfield who was up in north Ogden. I was such a good worker that he moved me right into the apricot and then we went into peaches. By the time we got into peaches there would only be about three or four people, so I felt really good about that, and I did that for a couple of years, but that wasn't much. I got like three cents a pound for picking cherries. LR: Last time we talked you mentioned mice. GY: Oh yes. I was trying to get the pictures of that, I think I've still got them at home. I had white mice that I raised and sold them for 50 cents each. What the people did with them, I don't know, but I enjoyed them. I had the parents of all the offspring, naturally, but we named them Daisy Mae and Little Abner. I don't know why. LR: You mentioned your two cousins, your friends… 4 GY: Yes. Bill and John Leatherwood, I hung around with Bill, and John was four years younger. Bill was a real Casanova, so to speak, even in his younger years. I'd take him up to Ogden High, when I started going to Ogden High and let him play like he was my cousin from California. All he wanted to do was just meet the girls up there, which he did a good job doing. His mother was the sister of Rose Davies of the Rose Rooms. I got to go up there, in fact, I delivered papers up there at the same time, but one of the girls up there offered to teach us how to dance, so Bill and I were all for it because he wanted to be in with the girls so naturally he was all for it and he told me to come on up and I was really a shy guy in those days. We went up there and she taught us a couple of different dances up there right in the Rose Rooms. LR: During the day, right? GY: Yes. The only thing scary up there is you'd go up and she had an Ocelot, it's like a small black panther, and you could see it down the hall because it was a long hallway down to where her room was down on the other end. That was a little scary, but after that first time it wasn't because it wouldn't attack you, it would just come up to you and sniff you and lick you and you just stood there. LR: Still scary though. GY: That was interesting. LR: Did you ever have a chance to meet Rose? GY: Yes. I met her. She was a real nice lady. She was really beautiful. She was a beautiful lady and all she did was run the establishment with her husband. She 5 was married and he was into a few things I think that were illegal, and it's been brought up probably in some of the books on 25th Street, but one of the things that was brought up and I've got to find the author on it and find out who in the heck told him that, but he said they ran five houses and they didn't, the only had the one. He ran some different private clubs, we called them at that time, where you had to belong and it was a buzzer and you went in and you'd get the alcoholic drinks because it was illegal to get. You could get beer in any of the bars, but you couldn't get alcohol, the strong stuff. LR: I was talking with another lady who was really good friends with Bertie and she mentioned that they might have had another place in Farmington. GY: It could have been down there, but not here. That's possible. LR: You said she was a really beautiful woman. Was there anything else about her that just struck you? GY: Her long, black hair. She was always dressed to kill and fashionable, not as a come one, she was fashionable. I always remembered that. LR: When you were being taught your dance lessons, would the girl wear a certain type of clothes? GY: She was fully dressed just like a street person. LR: So she wouldn't wear her uniform. GY: No. I did not know what her uniform was. LR: Okay. I was curious about that. 6 GY: No, she was fully dressed in a long dress. LR: Well, that's cool that she did that for you. How long did you take those lessons? GY: We took them for a couple of months. We'd just go up there sporadically here and there whenever she had free time. LR: As you were growing up here on Lincoln, you went to Central Junior High? GY: Right. I went to Grant Elementary and that was over between 21st and 22nd on Grant in the middle of the block on the west wide. It's long gone now. Then I went to the Central and then Ogden High. LR: When you got into high school and actually had transportation, what fun things would you do on 25th Street? GY: There were seven of us guys that hung around together, but I was always with one or two of them. We would get some girls and get them in the car, this was after I was sixteen, and take them down on 25th Street because they hadn't been there. They thought it was scary, but we didn't. I had a, what they called a Bermuda bell in the floor of my 1954 Oldsmobile and you'd just step on it and it'd sound like a big gong like in a fighting ring. It was really loud and it was illegal. So, we'd take the girls down there and we'd wait for this one certain guy to come by, his name was Cisco, that was his nickname and that's all I knew him by, and he used to be a prize fighter, so we'd hit that gong and he'd start shadow boxing right on the street. He'd just start going at it right on the street with nobody. We'd hit the gong again and he'd stop and take off. It was funny. LR: Did your dates think that was pretty cool too? 7 GY: Well, they weren't dates, just fun. LR: Just for fun? GY: Yes. LR: Would you take them to any of the cafes on the street? GY: No, but they wouldn't want to go. They wouldn't get out of the car. We'd try to get them out of the car, but they wouldn't get out of the car. LR: Do you think there was a difference, maybe a cultural difference between someone who was raised close to 25th Street and someone who was raised away from it? GY: Oh definitely. These girls lived above Harrison and we were the lower class. Anybody below Washington Boulevard was lower class. It was really class distinction then. This was before segregation and everything else. That's the thing, I grew up with Chinese, Japanese, Blacks, and Hispanics. LR: Did you notice the segregation on the street? GY: Oh yeah. You could see it especially down at the train depot in very public places. LR: I know that from Wall to Lincoln it was specifically blacks on the south, whites on the north, did it extend past Lincoln? GY: no, it was mainly just from Wall to Lincoln on the south side. We always went to the Porters and Waiters Club, even after I was married. The Porters and Waiters 8 club existed and you'd go in and go downstairs and it was a mixture of everything and they had the best food. LR: So, they didn't discriminate who could be in their establishment? GY: No. LR: That's a little ironic, don't you think? GY: Yeah. It was only those people that more or less knew about it from years before that. Somebody they didn't know, they would tell them, "Sorry, you're not welcome here." There were a few that they knew were rowdy that just wanted to come in and cause trouble and all we wanted to do was go in and eat, so they welcomed us. LR: That's cool. I didn't know that. You mentioned the tunnels. I've heard rumors of tunnels, so I'd like to hear your take on that. GY: We first discovered them when I worked for The Standard and at that time they were located where the Kiesel building is on 24th and Kiesel and from there they had a tunnel and they had a backup ramp there that the different trucks had come in or people and pick up their papers to distribute them through the city. It was a big thing back then, you know, there was a lot of newspapers sold in those days. Those tunnels, we went in them one time and there's no lighting. If there was, they kept them off, so we went one time with a flashlight and we got in and we went in pretty deep and I don't know where we were, but we were in there quite a ways and finally we got scared and we got out of there. We were just kids, you know. Delivering on 25th street, when I later got a route with 7-Up when 9 I worked for them, I was able to visit some of those tunnels because the product sometimes was put in the basement. There would be a door down there and I'd investigate to see where it went, but there were tunnels. LR: When you started to investigate when you were working for 7-Up, were they still as extensive? Were they still just as big as how you saw them when you were younger? GY: Yes, they were big. It reminded me of the tunnels you went under when you go to the train depot to go from track to track, they were big wide tunnels. There were doors as you went along for different businesses, just wooden doors. LR: Did they have signs saying what the business was? GY: No, no signs that I remember. LR: It just sounds scary. GY: Yes, it was dark and damp. LR: All I've heard is rumors. I've never known anyone who was actually down in there, so this is cool. You mentioned working for 7-Up, how did that begin? GY: Since I lived almost right across the street, they were at 215 25th Street and from my house I could see the back of the building. We used to go back there and beg for drinks from the guys that were loading the trucks. When I turned 15 I lied about my age and I was hired. You're supposed to be 16; in fact, I think I was about 14. I got a job there loading and unloading trucks at night. That was my first job. It was 75 cents an hour. We loaded the trucks and sorted the bottles and then in our spare time, the production manager let us help make the syrup. We 10 had an elevator there in that building. It was a rope operated elevator and you had to pull a rope. I don't know if you've ever seen one of those or not. They're something else. It had a brake on it, but if the brake failed when you were going up, and it was three floors—a basement, main floor and top floor—if the brake failed and you were between floors, you jumped off on the main floor because you didn't want to ride the bottom. There were a couple of times we had to do that. That's how we moved the sugar up. They were one hundred pound bags and we could put five of them on it and lots of times we stretched it and put seven on and that's when the brake would fail. If the elevator wasn't working, we had to carry those sacks on our shoulders. One hundred pounds and remember this is a 15 year old kid carrying those sacks up the stairs and dumping them in the vats. LR: The owner of that was— GY: It was Albert Scowcroft. He died and then his wife, Dorothy, took over and she was a great lady and a great boss. She managed it and they eventually moved out of there and built a building on 1330 Gibson, which is still there, I think it's a packing place down there now. We did our own bottling right there in the building and that's all it was, bottles at that time. We had a seven ounce bottle, a 28 ounce with a paper label, and then we did quarts of orange, root beer, grape, and strawberry at that place. The other scary part about working there was you had to make the CO2 and at that time they used dry ice and dropped it in cylinders that were a foot in diameter and we had to stand on a ladder to put the dry ice in. We'd chip it up 11 and put it in and then when you got the right amount in there, they had a lid that was heavy metal that was probably that thick with rubber seals around it and it had a cross bar on top of it so you could spin it and you'd drop it in there and start spinning it real fast because the pressure would build up just like that; if you didn't get it on right the first time, you just got off the ladder and moved away because it would blow it off. This is hazardous stuff that we were doing as kids. We worked the accumulating table, we worked the washer, we helped out everywhere. LR: You ended up making 7-Up your career, didn't you? GY: Yes, well, 7-Up, Pepsi. I left 7-Up in 1979 because the boyfriend of Mrs. Scowcroft was managing the place and him and I didn't see eye to eye. He hired people that didn't know anything and I had to train them and they would last one week and they were gone. It was ruining my marriage at that time because I was working 24 hours a day trying to take care of problems. I left there and I went down to Salt Lake City and started working for Admiral Beverage and at that time they had RC and 7-Up down there and Dad's Root Beer and Crush and things like that. I was down there three years and they sold that out because they wanted out of the RC. They bought Idaho Falls and Pocatello and I moved there with them there three years and came back and worked in Ogden doing a special juice we had that we distributed in seven states and I became the head salesmen for that. LR: That's cool that you started out at that little bottling plant and then made that into your career. I think that's pretty cool. Looking at where you grew up, almost on 12 25th Street and the way it was as you were growing up, do you think now that it's changed for the better, or would you rather see it the way it was? GY: it was mostly bars and restaurants and that was it. There were no retail businesses really, so to speak. There were apartment houses, there were a few of those and most of those were up above some of the bars even. It took me over a half a day to service that street from Washington to Wall. That's how many businesses there were to go in and out of. And that was with bottles and no cans, just bottles. LR: Do you think that what they're doing now is an improvement? GY: Oh yes. I mean, because of the religious factor for one thing, they didn't want them and the times changed. LR: Do you think the death of the railroad had a big play in the change of 25th Street? GY: Oh yes, that killed it. That was definitely one of the major factors that killed it. GY: The other jobs I had just before I got married and after I was married. I worked full-time at gas stations. I worked in a bowling alley setting pins at night that was my regular job. I managed Ye Old Pizza House for two years and that was one 32nd and Washington where the Cal Spas is now. It used to be a pizza house and pub in the back that had wooden benches and tables and Gene Debbie was the icon of Ogden City. He was a blind piano player, so he played piano and these songs would flash on the wall and people would sing along, drink beer and eat pizza. 13 LR: Out of all of your memories growing up there on 25th street, what is maybe one of your favorite memories? Or do you have one? GY: Not a favorite, but an experience I had, I was in the Acapulco Club when I was under age and it was because a couple of the guys I run around with, their parents owned it. It was Johnny, Sal, and Frank Hernandez. They had the best Mexican food. It was underneath where that barbershop is on 25th and Lincoln. I don't know if you've been there or if you've seen that or not, but there's a basement underneath the Marion Hotel. I'm sure the basement is still there and they probably just use it for storage, but there was a bar underneath there. I would stay in the background, I wouldn't get out. We'd eat at a table that they'd reserve for their kids. I was in there one time and this guy came up to me and started swearing at me and saying, 'What are you doing in here? You gringo," and everything else and going on. Next thing I know, he pulled a knife and came at me. Of course, he was drunk and Sal stepped in, one of the older brothers that was tending bar. He saw what was happening and he floored him, but not before he cut me right through here. I've still got the scar. It was just the skin, thank goodness, but that was a little scary. I didn't even go to the hospital. He could have hurt me, but it's just how things were then. People would get crazy. LR: That wasn't common though, was it? GY: No. I mean, I was the only white kid in there. There were Hispanics and some blacks, but I was the only white one in there. Leave it to me. 14 LR: I've pretty much asked all my questions, but what I'd like to do is ask if there is anything else you'd like to share or remember about 25th Street or just growing up in Ogden? GY: There are probably things I could remember later, but not at the present time. LR: I wish I could think of a million things because this is so fun to sit and listen to you. I can only imagine what it was like growing up around 25th Street. Do you remember, I don't know when the broom Hotel was torn down, but do you remember that hotel? GY: There was a Walgreens underneath, are you talking about 25th and Washington? LR: Which one was on 25th and Wall, the hotel that was there? GY: Yes, I remember it. I can't remember when it was torn down either, but my mom worked in that drug store that was two doors up from it. I shined shoes in the barbershop that was right next to the drug store. LR: You never shined shoes in the hotels that were on the street? GY: Never. I don't remember ever going in there. The only thing I remember was, I think it was called Pacific Fruit and they had a track that went up behind the Marion Hotel, right where the parking lot is for the DMV and there were tracks there and it was called Pacific Produce and the employees would unload the box cars full of watermelon. The kids in the area would go over and we'd want to help so we could get a watermelon. They actually threw them and they wouldn't let us 15 because they said we were too young, but every once I a while they would miss and say, "There's a busted one," and that's when we'd get our watermelon. LR: I almost forgot about the Bamberger Railroad and those torpedoes. Would you tell that story? GY: We found one. A torpedo was a package of gun powder about four inches square and it had a wire strap that came out both sides. It attached to the rail and they were used nationwide to warn an engineer of the train to slow down or whatever. They had two for a certain signal, three for a certain signal because when the train would run over the tracks they would make a real loud bang and I mean loud. We found one and we put it on the Bamberger tracks. I don't remember where we found it because Bamberger's didn't use them, they were from the railroad. It might have been somebody that just threw one off or something, so we put it on the track and we were sitting in our yards waiting for the Bamberger to come. When it went off we ran away. We didn't even go in our houses. We didn't come home for two hours. LR: Do you remember where on the Bamberger tracks you put it? GY: Yes, it was right in front of our house at 2535 Lincoln. LR: So right there on Lincoln? GY: Yes. That's why we got out of there. LR: That makes sense. Speaking of the Bamberger, was it strange having that trolley there? Was it busy? 16 GY: No, it wasn't. They went slow. They were noisy though, but you got used to it. We lived right there and we just got used to it. LR: Did you ever hop on it and ride it? GY: Yes, you would get on over between 23rd and 24th on Grant where the terminal was. I rode out to Lagoon a lot of times. They actually should have left those tracks. That would have been so neat. LR: They might do it anyway just because they're bringing all of this back. GY: Yeah. I don't know if they buried those tracks or dug them up. LR: I didn't realize that it actually went right in front at your house; I thought it was on Grant that the tracks were. GY: No, they were on Lincoln. LR: Right in front of your house. GY: There was another place we never went in and that was El Borracho. In fact, there was a recent article in the paper or in one of the books, but it was El Borracho that was right on the corner of 25th and Lincoln on the southeast corner. The Rose Rooms were above it. LR: Okay, so this was the El Borracho? GY: I think it was before that, but El Borracho was there for a long time. LR: So what was it about Pancho's? GY: You didn't go in it, just like the El Borracho, you didn't go in it. I didn't even go in there to sell newspapers. I wouldn't step inside that place. It was dangerous. 17 LR: Okay. Was it dangerous just because you're white? GY: White and unknown. If they didn't know you, they didn't want you in there. LR: That's kind of scary. It sounds like growing up on 25th Street, you always had something to do. Always something fun to do and if there wasn't something fun to do you'd just create something. GY: We had fun. Sure, we got in trouble. I got hauled to the police station a couple of times and detention, you know, as far as, 'You can't do that anymore," but I didn't get a record. They'd just slap your hand and le t you go. I was selling fireworks and they caught me doing that and they said, "That's a no, no." I said, "I've got to make money some way." LR: Wouldn't you and your friends toss those at some of the drunks? GY: Yes, we wouldn't do it to injure them we would just do it to scare them because they were sleeping against a wall or something in one of the alleys or what have you and just to watch them. If I had a movie camera back then I would have had a riot. LR: Were you ever worried that they might come and attack you? GY: No. They were too drunk. MD 90/90 or 40/40 and all those wines, yes, it was really cheap stuff. Back then it was probably a dollar a bottle. LR: They're just lying on the sidewalk sleeping? GY: Well, not sidewalk, they'd be in an alley somewhere. LR: Off the main street? 18 GY: Yes, off the main drag. Every once in a while they'd be on the main street, but the cops would come along and have them move on. They didn't want to take them in because they smelled too bad. I tell you who else could tell you a lot about 25th, Andy Bolds, he owned Andy's Lounge, if you could ever run into him, because he had the Grill Tavern and then he went out there and took over the old Art's Club and removed it. He knows a lot of people there. Then, of course, Ed Simone too, he grew up there. He owns the Kokomo. His folks owned it. I grew up with him. LR: I was going to ask you if you ever had the chance to meet Bonnie Brown Coates. GY: If it's the one I'm thinking of, she lived on Lincoln. LR: Yes, she said she was really good friends with Bertie and still is. We had a chance to talk with her and I was just wondering if you ever had a chance to meet her. GY: I met her, but I was a kid and she was a lot older. They lived, I think, in the second house from the end on Lincoln off of 26th Street. One brother got sent to prison, I don't know what it was on, but he was pretty rowdy. He was a nice guy, but he got into prison. The youngest one, he was always in trouble. Bill and I and John we'd always be teasing him or something, which we shouldn't have done, but kids. I've got a picture where it shows in the background where Bertie lived. There were houses all along there. LR: It's not that way now. 19 GY: No, it's Wonder Bread and parking and the only original building that's still there is the Rose Rooms. LR: Have you been on 25th Street recently? GY: About every day. LR: Okay, so you know. It's kind of cool what they've done with that. GY: Upstairs, you mean? That was what I would have done. People are curious about 25th Street and watching people, you can still sit in Karen's Café and watch some of the beggars go by, the ones that are normal. There are still some around and some of the druggies and some of the ones that go to Health Services. There was one that used to go on and he'd just talk to himself something fierce. You feel sorry for them, you know, Schizophrenic, but nothing you can do. There are still a lot of them down there. LR: Well, I appreciate your time and your willingness to come up here and appreciate the stories. It's been fantastic, I've enjoyed every minute of it. I really appreciate you. 20