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R.R. mm 46 THE MERCURY. A PHANTASY. CHARI.ES WELSEY WEISER, '01. ; 5 WO spirits floating through the air Leave their mark of passing there. The spirit of the scentless spring, And summer's scented spirit bring Their breath of life and breath of love, And wave ethereal wings above The weary brow. With soothing hand They stir to life the waiting land. The azure sky, the sun and flowers, The bursting bud of woodland bowers, The tender grass, the songsters' strain Compose for life love's sweet refrain Of fellowship. (lI 'Tis evening and the twilight gray Creeps o'er the half-forgotten way, As passing on in pensive mood, Through the ancient hemlock wood, I see beneath the massive trees, Fanned by the evening breeze, A stalwart man reposing lay Beside the lonely grassy way. Tall and brawny, noble., fair, With beaming eyes and wavy hair, He forms a picture good to see— Nature's perfect mastery Commanding all. He speaks—the tones in clarion notes Upward through the branches float. He smiles—and wins with glances bright, Fellowship's most welcome light. "Nature," says he, "perfect, strong, Note and strive for ; and prolong Your days ; and usefulness, and peace, And love, from life shall ne'er cease." I fain would speak, but wake to see 'Tis only a bright phantasy Wrought by Spring-tide on the mind, That seeks in life and love to find The perfect whole. I V* . THE MERCURY 47 "RABBI BEN EZRA." ABDEL R. WENTZ, '04. [Graeff Prize Essay.] ROBERT Browning's Rabbi Ben Ezra is a transcript from the natural experience of a human soul. The struggle between lower and higher ideals has already been fought on the battleground within the soul. The conflict between faith and doubt is over. Faith stands victorious. We have here por-trayed a picture not of action but of a soul in intellectual fer-mentation, the concomitant of action. The poet speaks from emotional imagination in expressing the wish of his soul to be in touch with the infinite. And the passion here described is one that is universal to mankind and one that is deepest and most widely felt in loving human nature. Other poets have attained the same depth of thought, a number have expressed somewhat the same ideas as are here set forth, but probably no poem stands in exactly the same relations as Rabbi Ben Ezra. We propose, therefore, to inquire briefly concerning the Rabbi and his part in the poem, to examine in a general way Brown-ing's philosophy of life as unfolded in the body of his religious poetry, to analyze the thought of this poem and see how the philosophy of life is here set forth, to ascertain what relation the poem sustains to the teachings of Christianity, and to make some observations concerning its rhetorical composition. Abraham ben Meir ben Ezra is the full name of the Rabbi to whom Browning assigns this monologue, but he is more commonly known as Ibn Ezra. Born in Toledo, Spain, about 1088, he started to travel early in life and visited all parts of western and southern Europe and northern Africa. His last days were spent in Rome and here he died in 1167. He was an earnest student of astronomy and won much fame not only as an astronomer but also as an astrologer and physician. In him the Platonic philosophy had an able advocate. Wherever he went he became distinguished for his great learning and his varied accomplishments, but his chief renown seems to have I im 48 THE MERCURY. been as grammarian, biblical commentator, and poet. But great as was the scholarship of the Rabbi, his piety was even greater. From all his writings and from the account of his life we gather that he was a man of extraordinary spiritual rectitude under the complete guidance of the word of God. Such was the man to whom Browning here attributes the philosophy of life. So thoroughly is Ibn Ezra adapted to the expression of such a philosophy and so well do the sentiments here expressed ac-cord with the writings of the Rabbi that the question has been raised whether Browning meant Rabbi Ben Ezra to serve as a statement of his own philosophy or that of Ibn Ezra. There are, indeed, a number of Jewish elements contained in the poem ; as, for instance, the abiding trust in a central righteous-ness. But Browning was specially fond of weaving such ele-ments into the woof of his thought; in fact, in his own nature, both spiritual and intellectual, he was not entirely free from cer-tain Jewish characteristics. Moreover, a great many of his il-lustrations and traditions are taken from among the Jews and no other English poet, with the single exception of Shakespeare, commands for the Jew the same admiration and compassion that Browning does. It seems only reasonable therefore that the poet in presenting his own views concerning life should draw some of his less important ideas from the writings of the Rabbi and thus weave into the poem sufficient coloring to ac-count for the idiosyncrasies of the individual whom he has chosen to give expression to those views. But the strongest proof that Rabbi Ben Ezra expresses Browning's own theory of life, lies in the fact that it is prac-tically a recapitulation of the very sentiments expressed in many of his other poems, as witness Sordello, Abt Vogeler, Saul, The Pope, A Death in the Desert, Reverie, and quite a number of others, all of which develop the same life-philosophy as Rabbi Ben Ezra does. Just as Cicero made use of the venerable Cato as his lay figure in setting forth his views on "Old Age," so Browning has used different personages to develop his philoso-phy, in each case adapting some of the incidentals to the indi- » ■ > THE MERCURY. 49 * * vidual personage. In Jochanan Hakkadosh we have another instance where Browning uses a Jew as his mouthpiece to give utterance to his theory of life. And in the poem under con-sideration he has placed this theory in the mouth of the Rabbi for no other purpose than merely to furnish it with a back-ground; for Browning himself explained of Sordello: "My stress lay on the incidents in the development of a soul; little else is worth study." Being assured then that Rabbi Ben Ezra is merely a restate-ment of Browning's theory of life, it may be well before pro-ceeding to the thought analysis of the poem to try to gain some idea concerning his philosophy of life as developed in the rest of his religious poetry. This philosophy begins in his very first publication, Pauline, where its crude outlines are to be seen; it is more carefully developed and at much greater length in his next production, Paracelsus, and then re-appears from time to time among his productions, and receives its final utterance in his very last poem, Reverie. It is a noteworthy fact that Browning formed this view of lite in his youth, and that no-thing in his life experiences gave him occasion to change it, so that traces and reiterations of it are to be seen in poems cover-ing a period of sixty years of his life. The whole trend of his philosophy might be summarized in the statement that the aspiration towards divine Power and Love is the most exalted ideal for the human soul. The intensity of the universal passion of human love reaching out towards some object which shall satisfy aspiration gives him the conception of God as infinite Love and of the future life as one in which Love incarnate shall have a place. This earthly life is merely a period of probation; man here is in constant pre-paration for another life. Past influences constitute the cri-terion by which to judge of the future, and our development here is determinative of our hereafter, either for growth or de-cay. But in this life we are surrounded by innumerable lim-itations and conditions. All our attainments are bounded by the finite. The divinity at the root of man's nature is too great for the sphere which contains him, arid yet it is this very di-vinity which gives rise to aspiration. Aspiration in turn causes ' ill i. 111 , ,., ,.j,i;iMl8M ■ 50 THE MERCURY. discontent, difficulties, and failures, and these point to infinite success and goodness. Thus we are made to realize the limi-tations and imperfections of our finite existence and to strive ever onward and upward to infinite freedom and perfection. It is precisely this imperfect nature in man which gives him the susceptibility to infinite growth and development; and this is "Man's distinctive mark alone," that which raises him higher in the scale than the brute and places him "a little lower than the angels." Only by our temporal failures are we led to see the possibility of eternal success. Internal dissatisfaction with our attainments on earth induces aspiration towards the divine. Man is "a living personality linked to the principle of restless-ness;" he must recognize his limitations and work within them, never losing sight of the infinite beyond nor ever ceasing to as-pire toward that perfection of freedom. To become content with even the highest attainable per-fection in this earthly life would mean to renounce all noble de-sires and to deny the inner light. This present state must not be regarded as an end in itself and submission to the conditions which it imposes would only result in fatal loss. To fail to recognize our imperfect nature would be to deny the possibility of spiritual growth. No, we must never be satisfied with this earth and its meagre successes; we must never rest content with this stage of imperfection. We must recognize the possi-bility of higher results than any attainable on earth and must aspire to something beyond the limits of time and space. "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?" It is this very quality—this constant discontent with earthly attainments, this endless aspiration for something higher—that makes life a struggle and the earth a bivouac of strife. Man must be actuated by a constant and conscious impetuosity to-wards the divine, drawing new impulses out of each failure, ever realizing with Tennyson, that, "Men may rise on stepping-stones From their dead selves to higher things." THE MERCURY. Si Each failure should give rise to greater effort and higher aspira-tion. According to Abt Vogeler, the musician accepts the pro-longed pause as an earnest of sweet music, and the discords as an evidence of more highly-prized harmony to follow. The limitations of this life are only suggestions of the infinitude of the life beyond. These. temporal barriers shall become the doors opening to the eternal life of infinite beauty, happiness, knowledge and love. The little mountain rill, as it flows down, has many rough places to cross, many obstacles to encounter, many rocks and precipices to pass, but continually receiving new life from other streams it grows deeper and stronger until at last it becomes a great, deep river, and, undisturbed now by the huge boulders beneath its surface, it flows calmly on to join the peaceful, powerful ocean. So the soul, weak at first and prone to despair, must work within its limitations and by an endless succession of aspirations and failures, each failure stimu-lating stronger endeavor, make its way to God and to the real-ization of perfect Power and Love. Having thus gotten a view of the philosophy of life as Brown-ing held it, we will be better able to follow in analysis the thought of Rabbi Ben Ezra, where this philosophy is stated with greater conciseness, perhaps, than anywhere else in Brown-ing. But -first it must be said, by way of explanation, that Rabbi Ben Ezra is not argumentative in its character; it is merely the statement of facts of positive knowledge. Its view is intuitive and it states conclusions without employing courses of reasoning. We shall not expect, therefore, that the thought of the different stanzas will in every instance be arranged in strict logical sequence. Mellowed with years, the venerable Rabbi gives to the young man the cheerful assurance, " The best is yet to be," and in the quietude of life's evening hour proposes a retrospect of the day and a prospect to the tomorrow. Bidding us to trust in God te reveal His whole plan, he first considers youth. This is a period of hesitation and ambition, of "hopes and fears." All of youth's brief years are passed in doubt and indecision. But for this the Rabbi has no remonstrances, for this very doubt is S2 THE MERCURY. the actuating influence—the "troubling spark"—which distin-guishes us from the brute creation; brutes have their end of living in self-satisfaction, and in the gratification of sense are free from care and doubt. But man's greatest glory and that which attests his affinity with the great Provider lies in his noble desires and lofty aspirations which can never be satisfied on earth; this is the disturbing spark that proves his spiritual nature. We should therefore endure with good cheer the lim-itations that are here placed upon us, and, despite life's difficul-ties and discomforts, ever strive and learn and dare. For the seeming failures of this earthly life simply prove our suscepti-bility to the achievement of eternal success. Our aspiration to the unattainable raises us higher in the scale than the unpro-gressive brute, and he, who hopes to succeed in his flesh and to that end subordinates soul to body, can scarcely deserve the noble name of man. And yet the body is not without its use; all past experi-ences in the flesh serve to teach valuable lessons in this train-ing- school for eternity, and the heart of the Rabbi beats in sin-cere gratitude for the opportunity of living as a man, a part in the one great plan of perfect Power and Love. He trusts him-self implicitly to the will of his Creator and hopes thus to gain the victory over low ideals and ignoble desires. For the soul is prone to yield to its rosy garment of flesh in the desire for rewards commeasurable with bodily endowments and physical attainments. But we should not measure ourselves by the ground gained in spite of flesh; we should realize that while flesh and soul are both subject to limitations here on earth, yet neither is to be despised as all is for the best. Youth must have its struggles and disappointments but old age reaps rich fruit in consequence. For here if is that the complete man is produced and that the tendency to God be-gins. The Rabbi, ripe with age, awaits the fight with death, the only struggle now before him. "Fearless and unperplexed" he contemplates the battle with perfect serenity of soul, for his experiences have taught him what weapons and what armor to employ. Now that his youth is ended he is in a position to L4fc THE MERCURY. 53 pass sentence on that period of life. The fires of'youth have culled out the gold from the dross and the life-struggle can now at length be estimated at its true value. In youth all was un-certainty ; with age comes knowledge absolute. Each sunset brings its certain moment which suddenly calling the glory from the gray announces the death of the day and invites esti-mation of its worth. So the period of old age, tinted with glory and free from the strife of youth, affords the opportunity to prove the past, pronounce judgment on its errors and pro-prieties, and thereby "sustained and soothed" to face the future. And more than this is not possible for man ; his highest duty is to practice tomorrow the lessons of today, to follow intently "the great Artificer of all that moves" and thus catch hints of real handicraft, of true workmanship. Youth is the proper time for growth and aspiration, the proper time to "strive to-ward making," and though the efforts to make be uncouth and seeming failures, nevertheless they are eminently successful in that they secure for old age exemption from strife and the blessed privilege of knowledge. Death can then be awaited without fear. Here the mind is not harassed by arguments of "Doctor and Saint"'as in youth, but the knowledge of the Right and Good and Infinite is as absolute as the knowledge of the possession of one's own hand. Age vindicates youth by defining and separating "great minds from small" and by determining whether the principles of Right were properly ap-plied in youth. Thctruth is revealed and peace of soul secured. But who shall act as judge to pass the sentence? It is no easy task, for men of very similar traits and qualities hold widely different views. Who shall decide? The answer: each man must be his own arbiter; he alone understands the circum-stances of his own life struggle. For life is not to be judged by its deeds and attainments, else others could pass the sentence. "Men appraise the outward product," but this vulgar mass, so easily recognized and valued by the low world, is not the proper standard to use in making up the main account. True, our "work" is pleasing in the eyes of our fellow-men and quickly plumbed and tested by the world's coarse thumb and finger, but 54 THE MERCURY. the true reckoning of man's worth takes into account all our undeveloped instincts tor good, all our unfulfilled purposes. These no one can know but ourselves and these God weighs and considers. He finds value in our thoughts which we were not able to express in a mere act and His records contain even our fleeting fancies :— "All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God. whose wheel the pitcher shaped." These lines contain the one great lesson of the poem, the very-theme of its thought, namely, the manifestation of God's love in his dealings with man. Our doubts He overrules for faith; our failures He overrules for success. Our aspirations to the impossible become the essentials of our spiritual growth. It is on the wings of God's love that the spirit of man mounts from earth to heaven. This thought pervades the entire poem. The thought that man is the pitcher shaped by the wheel of God leads to the expanding of that beautiful metaphor of the potter and the clay, and this occupies the concluding verses of the poem. We are invited to examine the metaphor and learn why time passes away so rapidly while our souls lie passive. Hugest folly is the proposition that nothing endures and that the past has no bearing on the present or the future. All that has ever really existed, lasts forever. The wheel indeed may vary as it turns, but potter and clay endure. So life fleets and earth changes, but God and Soul remain forever. We are not mere shadowy existences destined to pass into nothingness; we are eternal realities. But the changing motion of the wheel is needful to give the clay its proper form and make it useful; no less are the buffetings and evanescent influences of this life's dance intended by the all-wise Creator to give our souls their proper bent and temper and fit them for their highest useful-ness. What matters it, so far as the usefulness of the cup is concerned, if the potter in the course of his work ceases to adorn it with the beautiful figures wrought around its base and fashions stern, grim scull-things about the rim? And what I THE MERCURY. 55 matters it if our Maker diminish our pleasures and make this temporal life less attractive? Not in the decorations however beautiful is to be found the proper use of a cup; no more is the highest usefulness of the soul to be found in the pleasures and ornaments of life. Heaven's consummate cup has no need therefore of earth's wheel; his only need is the Potter, to amend the lurking flaws and use His work. The Rabbi declares that never once in the whole dizzy course of his lite with all its im-perfections and failures—never once did he lose sight of his end as a vessel to slake his Maker's thirst. Just as in the opening stanza he expressed his firm assurance of a better life to come, aud his abiding confidence in God's goodness, "Our times are in His hand," so after maintaining this sentiment through the entire poem, he reiterates it once more in his eloquent closing prayer: "So, take and use Thy work : Amend what flaws may lurk, What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim ! My times be in Thy hand! Perfect the cup as planned ! Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same[" These noble sentiments, though expressed by a Jewish Rabbi, are entirely in accord with the teachings of Christianity. An eminent writer on ethics has pronounced Rabbi Ben Ezra to be "one of the completest descriptions of the ethical life in English literature." But it is even more than that; it is a statement of pure theism and a description of sublime religious faith. It abounds in Christian sentiment and contains numer-ous allusions to Scripture of both the Old and New Testament. If Rabbi Ben Ezra were a part ot the Bible, every sentence in the entire poem would long since have been quoted in substan-tiation of some Christian teaching. One of the salient teach-ings of the poem is that of absolute submission to the Divine will. This, one of the great teachings of our New Testament, is forcibly set forth in the poem. Moreover, Christ's mission on earth was to reveal the Father not only as Power but more specifically as Love. In the light of this fact, the sentiment 56 THE MERCURY. which the Rabbi expresses becomes quite striking, especially when he says, "I, who saw power, see now Love perfect too." L^fc, The Christian religion is preeminently a religion of love, and Rabbi Ben Ezra has its very basis on God's love for man. Then, too, Christianity is essentially a romantic religion. Literature furnishes numerous instances of Christian romance. And what can be more romantic than this idea of a future life with earthly hopes and aspirations realized and Love perfected, as developed in the poem ? This hope of future existence gives to the Chris-tian religion the very source of its life. And in Holy-Cross Day we have another instance where Browning represents this same Ben Ezra as a direct advocate of Christ and Christianity. When Rabbi Ben Ezra was first published (1864), the world stood in great need of just such a message of hope and faith as the poem conveys. That was a time when skepticism and des-pondency were rapidly growing. Matthew Arnold was busy promulgating his own unbelief. Fitzgerald had just published his'beautiful translation of Omar Khayyam, and this message o doubt was being very widely read. Epicureanism and sensualism were spreading. To all these Rabbi Ben Ezra was a check. It inculcated cheerfulness and hope, destroying doubt and set-ting up faith preeminent. Some readers of Browning find in him nothing more than what is purely humanitarian and ethical, while others narrow their vision to the romantic and Christian. In reality, Brown-ing includes both. His message is twofold : he treats both the Here and the Hereafter. An so Rabbi Ben Ezta combines the humanitarian and the ethical, on the one hand, with the roman-tic and Christian on the other, and sets forth a lofty type of Christian faith as held by a man of God. In rhetorical composition Rabbi Ben Ezra is typical of Brown-ing's religious poetry. Browning is noted for his great com-prehensiveness of meaning. Few writers have used single words with such great effect. In fact, so great is his conscise- THE MERCURY. 57 ness that he is often charged with being obscure, and the num-ber of his readers is comparatively small because not many peo-ple will take the trouble to disengage the poet's real thought irom the close-plaited web of his expression. Rabbi Ben Ezra is no exception to the rule. True, it is one of the most widely known of Browning's poems and has been considered one of the easiest, but its apparent simplicity disappears before any serious effort to drain it of its meaning. The poet thinks at lightning speed and records his thoughts as they occur to him, and nothing short of an alert mind and an open spirit will suf-fice to draw from the poem its full meaning. It is recondite almost to the extreme, in places even bordering on the verge of solecism. And yet it is only natural that such" sublime, weighty thought should receive striking expression. Every sentence is pregnant with vigorous meaning. And while the poem shows in its structure no regard whatever for symmetry or proportion and no view to clearness, beauty, or nobleness of form, yet it presents the greatest consistency of teaching from first to last. This poem will be read as long as the human race endures, because it has to do with a passion that is common to all man-kind. It deals with man's growth to the infinite in a spirit of the most healthful optimism, and inspires men everywhere to high and noble thinking. Browning himself gives an estimate of the loftiness of the theme when he says in a letter to a friend: "It is a great thing—the greatest—that a human being should have passed the probation of life, and sum up its experi-ence in a witness to the power and love of God." What Long-fellow contributes to literature in his "Psalm of Life," what Ten-nyson contributes in his "In Memoriam"-—this and more Brown-ing epitomizes in his Rabbi Ben Ezra. And the late Professor Everett of Harvard pronounces it "one of the most exalted of the poems of Browning * * * * one of the most exalted in the whole range of literature." 5« THE MERCURY. RUSSIAN AGGRESSION. [Second Prize in the Inter-Collegiate Oratorical Contest] W. W. BARKXEY, '04. PASSING events in the Far East draw the eyes of the world once more toward those parts which have engaged more or less constant attention for many years. The Asiatic question with its many difficulties and complications presents the unsolved international problem of the twentieth century. How shall the equilibrium of the East and the- integrity of China be maintained? How shall the commercial powers of the world preserve the equality of trading privileges along China's inviting coast? How shall the threatening advance of Russia upon Asia be checked? Shall Anglo-Saxon civiliza-tion or the civilization of the Muscovite stamp itself upon east-ern peoples ? The last two inquiries are primary and essential, it will be admitted, in dealing with the first two. Statesmen prophets have prophesied, but struggle is no longer a thing of the future. The foretold contest is on. and it is critical. Potent energies are now at work in the Orient. Asia is evidently un-dergoing transition. Pressing circumstances must soon force a solution of the grave problem of the East and provide answers to our questions. While grim-visaged war is raging between the little island empire of the Pacific and that gigantic nation of the north, it will not be untimely to follow the course of that ceaseless, un-tiring advance which has brought Russia all the way across the Eurasian continent from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok and Port Arthur. The declaration of open hostilities between these two con-flicting nations was no surprise, but rather was expected. War was inevitable in the face of Russian aggression and dogged-ness. The current strife is only one of a series of events which have been shaping themselves for years, yes for centuries, in the history of Russia. It is the natural, logical outcome of a policy of greed and grasp which has been at the bottom of THE MERCURY. 59 every national move which Russia has made since the days of her first note-worthy monarch, "Ivan the Terrible." The real cause of the war waging today can be clearly traced to this governing policy. Insatiate Russia is not satisfied with her tight grip on Manchuria which she now practically owns and controls, but looks with a covetous eye on the independent but small empire of Korea over which Japanese influence should justly extend. In fact it was reported, previous to the outbreak with Japan, that she already had obtained large interests in the important timber regions of the Yalu Valley, and that her rep-resentative stood over the weak and pliable Emperor at Seoul with almost dictatorial power. Such is her impudence and boldness. Will Russia recede from the prominent position she has taken in northeastern China ? Never, voluntarily ! She may make clever pretensions and employ shrewd diplomatic schemes, as is her custom, but she will never withdraw from an acquisi-tion which has been the object of her ambition for three cen-turies and more, until Japan or some other power drives her back into the north from whence she came. And then she will not remain there; onward, advance, conquer and expand have been the watchwords of this aggressor of nations since the close of the Middle Ages when the terrible autocrat of the six-teenth century assumed the ambitious title of Czar and began to push the lines of his government out in all directions. When Ivan came to the throne Russia was "a semi-savage, semi-Asiatic power, so hemmed in by barbarian lands and hos-tile races as to be almost entirely cut off from intercourse with the civilized world." Since then her growth in territory and power has been marvelous and amazing. From the compara-tively small and insignificant state in Central Europe, she has gradually extended her boundaries until now she dominates about one-half of the land area of Eurasia. The Tartars were attacked and driven beyond the Ural river, and thus the entire Volga and Caspian regions were acquired. An advance was started toward the Ural mountains and the Euxine. Under the powerful and energetic despot, Petet the Qreat, the Black and Baltic sea regions were both gained; Siberia was explored and 6o THE MERCURY. conquered from the Ural mountains to Kamtschatka, and afterwards colonized; far-reaching reforms were brought about, and Russia was lifted to a place among the first-class powers of Europe. Today her dominion extends from the borders of Per-sia, Afghanistan, and India on the south to Sweden and the Arctic ocean on the north ; and from the Chinese Empire and the Pacific on the east to Germany and Austria-Hungary on the west. What giant strides she has taken in territorial devel-opment ! What a magnificent stretch of country she has been able to consolidate into one sovereign State! No other nation in the history of the world has been able to secure such abso-lute control over so large an empire and that in the compara-tively short period of four centuries. Russia's advance is steady and never ceases. Her policy is well-outlined and the goal of her ambition is clearly defined., Her real governing purpose may be deduced from her actions. Russia needs some warm water harbors on the Pacific. She proposes first to secure, if possible, these advantageous outlets without which she can never develop her almost limitless na-tural resources. Secondly, Russia evidently aims to become the arbiter and controller of the East; and, therefore, she en-deavors to stamp her order of civilization on Asia, and obtain for herself the preponderance of power in the Far East. Back of these exalted aims and ambitions is a thorough conviction among her people that the day of Russian supremacy is near at hand. "Her students everywhere claim that the world had bee?i under the Romance type of civilization and that gave way in time to the Anglo- Teutonic type under which the world is now developing and this is about to give way to Slavonic civilization to which the future belongs." Surely, if written history and current actions count for anything in judging a nation, no other than these stupenduous designs and hopes, we have briefly stated, are the basis of her aggressive spirit. Surely no other than these form the main-spring of Russia's late historical movements. Russia's political,-.commercial and industrial interests demand a more extensive seacoast, and more and better harbors. Tur-r_* r THE MERCURY. 61 key and the Powers control the Bosphorus and deny her ingress to Mediterranean waters. The Baltic is ice-bound part of the year and that seriously hinders navigation there. Port Arthur and Vladivostok also present serious obstacles to successful commerce. Where shall Russia turn, if not southward along China's coast and toward the Persian gulf, in which directions the high wave of her influence and sovereignty has been roll-ing, now slowly, now rapidly, but ever rolling for almost four hundred years ? What does the construction of her great trans-Siberian railroad mean, which now stretches across an en-tire continent, if not easier access to the Pacific ? What does a similar trunk line mean, which is now being planned to extend from the Baltic to the Arabian sea, if not a freer outlet to the world's waters ? What does her sly seizure of Manchuria, her pretended foothold on Korea, signify ? What does a war with Japan signify, if not a fixed determination to extend her power along the Chinese seaboard and gain possession of China's warm water harbors? Russia aspires to be a great sea power, but as yet she is comparatively weak along that line, as was evinced too plainly by her recent defeats at the hands of Japanese sea-warriors. In order to be prepared in time of war she must have a stronger navy, and safer inlets to harbor it. That she may develop her boundless natural resources properly, both in Europe and Siberia, and thereby increase her wealth, she must be given an opportunity to open up her industries and enlarge her trade. To hold and maintain her place among the nations, she must establish herself on the sea. Russia's prophet states-men are shrewd and wide-awake to these facts. They look far ahead, see in Russia the nation of the future, and may be ex-pected to plan their every action in accordance with their in-tense ambition to make her glorious and paramount. There is no more room for doubt. The spread of Slavonic domination in Asia is truly alarming. No observer who has followed the course of current affairs in the East will have failed to notice that glacier-like movement of Russian power over Chinese territory. England sees it; Japan resents it. It is too evident, notwithstanding her cunning diplomacy, her insincere 62 THE MERCURY. promises and agreements, and her round-about manoeuvers at times, that Russia means to retain every foot of ground she possesses and that she will never cease to advance until she has conquered and absorbed and assimilated the whole of the Chi-nese Empire, Persia, and Afghanistan; stands triumphant on the summits of the lofty Himalyas, and looks with a threaten-ing eye down upon the rich and splendid empire of India, un-less, perchance, the Anglo-Saxon shall not delay longer, but come forth to contest such wholesale occupation of Asia. Some years ago, when it was proposed to retreat from the mouth of the Amur river, Emperor Nicholas said, "Where Russia's flag is carried once, there it shall remain forever." That shows the spirit of the nation. Russia is active; Russia is greedy; Rus-sia is strong and persistent. Give her the chance she seeks to relieve her latent energies and develop her dormant resources, and she will become the most influential, the wealthiest of world powers. Give her the opportunity she covets and she will scatter broadcast over the Orient her despotic principles of autocracy with its brutality, ignorance, and oppression; force her Greek Catholicism with its error and intolerance upon the unfortunate subjects of her conquest, and carry with her a spirit of exclusiveness and selfishness deadly to the advance of pure Christian civilization everywhere ig the world. Give her the right of way and she will attain the strategic points she desires and crush out of existence the Anglo-Saxon order of civiliza-tion, which means constitutional government, the Protestant religion, liberty, equality, and education characteristic of all Anglo Saxon peoples. Stand aside, and Holy Russia will rule the world. But will the rest of the world stand aside, passive and indif ferent, and let the great Czar forward his schemes of encroach-ment and aggrandizement unhindered? Japan says No! Japan acts promptly and firmly, and all hail! to the bravp little nation who with courage stout and strong goes out to battle with this giant aggressor of the north. We admit her claims be-cause we know they are just; we glory in her victories because we know she is right; deservedly do we give her our sympathies THE MERCURY. 63 because she has put herself in line with twentieth century progress and civilization and with dignity faces an avaricious foe still moved by the customs and principles of the sixteenth century. But can she stand against such might in the ultimate contest ? Can Japan alone hold Russia in check and stop the perilous ad-vance ? It is not to be expected. If not, what will England do, England who has check-mated Russia so often in Europe, and who now has such vast commercial interests on the coast and in the heart of China, and stands guardian over such a mighty empire as India, will she allow China to be Russianized and India to be menaced ? It would seem that the final struggle must be between Russia and England. Two great orders of modern civilization have met and are ready to clash, yes they have clashed, for Japan's prototype is England, and her civil-ization is Anglo-Saxon. On the one hand, Russia, who be-lieves thoroughly that the future lies with the Slav. On the other hand, the English-speaking nations, who contend that the future rests with the Anglo-Saxon. Both stand ready to fight, if need be, for the world's supremacy. One is a supremacy of personal absolutism and oppression; the other, a supremacy of democracy with its liberty and justice. Which shall it be? Should the struggle come now, Russia would likely be crushed ;• later, after she has had time to grow and strengthen to her full proportions, who shall prophesy the end and declare which shall rule the world, Anglo-Saxon or Slav ? THE PASSION FOR SCHOLARSHIP. PROF. OSCAR G. KXINGER. THE mental attitude of a man towards his vocation is all important. Tell me this and I will tell you the degree of success which he has won or will win. Where there is a lively interest there will be also the enthusiasm and tireless energy so necessary to the perfect performance of a task. A lackadaisical spirit defeats any enterprize. The captains of in- 64 THE MERCURY. dustry have always been men with a genius for hard work. The same is true of those who have won eminence in any of the learned professions. They have mounted high because they have been in love with their vocation. To the student who aims at some notable achievement in the domain of knowledge, an absorbing passion for scholarship is the first essential. By such a passion, I mean an insatiable desire to know the truth of things at first hand. Others may be satisfied to take their information on faith. He must get at the heart of reality ; he must know things in themselves and in their relations; and to attain this he must be willing to sacrifice everything— "To scorn delights and live laborious days." Unless this passion dominate him there will be lacking the fire and enthusiasm which are necessary to prolonged effort. To think is the most difficult task a man can ever set himself. It means absorption, critical acumen, a nice balancing of facts and unerring inference; in a word, it means the analysis of a fact or truth to its ultimates and a synthesis of these ultimates into a positive thought. The process prolonged wears out the brain and exhausts the nerves. To keep it up until the end demands a will which is animated by a passion for knowledge as burning as the desire to live. Then and then only can the mind come to its full stature and utter truth which men must hear whether they will or not. This longing to know is often inborn, but may be acquired in some degree by even the dullest. The main trouble with the latter sort of student is that his mind has never been a-wakened. About his intellect a dense haze has gathered and he cannot see his way nor does he know precisely where he is. A dull ambition stirs in his heart but he cannot discover its meaning. Intelligent study is to him unknown. He tries to go through his tasks but what he gets means little to him. Often it happens that young men of naturally capable minds almost finish their course before they acquire the mental aware-ness which is the first condition of successful study. When THE MERCURY. 65 they do wake up their progress is phenomenal. Perhaps therefore, the highest function of the teacher is to awaken mind and by his helpfulness keep it awake. ' No higher reward can come to him than the consciousness that he has set one intel-lect on fire with the passion to know. Before this is possible, however, a serious obstacle must be removed. It is a motion wellnigh unusual among students and grows out of a mistaken conception of education. The student finds the college equipped with a faculty of men more or less learned who are to be his teachers in the various subjects which the curriculum offers. He expects them to set him tasks for each day's performance. In the recitations they question him on the lessons and make the necessary explanations or pffer additional information. Consequently the idea is general and perhaps inevitable that the professors educate the pupil. How-ever natural, this notion is pernicious and works incalculable harm. In the sense that the teacher acts as guide and makes easier the road to intellectual development, it is true that he is an educator ; in any other sense it is misleading. The men-tal development zvhich any man gets is always the lesult of his own specific effort. A teacher helps, stimulates, guides, "but achieves nothing without the earnest response of the pupil.' This erroneous view is largely responsible for a wrong use of the textbook. The student imagines that doing his task-work in memoriter fashion is genuine study. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Even a parrot is capable of such exercise of memory and the world has no use for human "Pollys!" A memory stored with knowledge is a great boon, but will not go far in promoting a' man's interests. Some of the greatest failures have been walking encyclopedias of facts and theories. A bookworm always has a hard time to find enough to eat. The world demands men who can think and plan and execute,—practical men who can use their knowledge to meet and solve the intricate problems of business and poli-tics. "What new truth have you to offer?" is the question asked of every graduate and on his answer depends his sta-tion. A well written article which reproduces only the •ii% 66 THE MERCURY. thoughts of other men finds its way into the editor's waste bas-ket or into the pages of the cheapest magazine. The pulpit ■which is no longer a teaching platform will face empty pews. The "dead-line" in any profession is drawn where invention dies; years have nothing to do with it. The man who keeps pace with progress and is able to interpret to others the heart of the movement will never want a hearing. Such a man is never the product of a mere textbook. For a text in any sub ject is the resume of one man's interpretation of a body of facts. Its value depends wholly on the authority of its author. At best it is only an outline. Any student, therefore, who ac-cepts the teaching without examining the facts and bringing the theory to the test of facts, is doing two things—-depriving himself of the pleasure which comes with reasoned conviction, and missing the power which such additional research confers. Either is a great mistake. The worship of the textbook induces another grievous habit which when acquired blights original work in a literary way. When a theme has been adopted as the subject of an essay the student at once searches through the library for material which when found constitutes the subject matter of his essay. Of testing, of meditation, there is little or 'none. What he says is not what the subject means to him but to another. He is like a phonograph endowed with the power of changing the form of expression without altering the thought. It were well if the saying of Isocrates were written in letters of light above every alcove: "What has been said by one is not of equal value to him who repeats it; but he seems to be the most skillful who finds in a subject topics which have escaped the notice of others." Here is the truth in a nut-shell. Let a young man determine at the outset that he will not repeat what has once been uttered except as a quotation, but will give to the world his own thought tested and tried by an appeal to things, and what he has to say on any subject will command the attention of men. Servile devotion to the textbook; re-producing the thought of others; failure to experience the truth that is presented; these are the fatal rocks on which THE MERCURY. 67 many a promising career has been wrecked. There is, too, an ethical aspect of the case which must not be overlooked. No one has the moral right to ask another to spend time in read-ing or hearing what to him is old. Truth which concerns man is so illimitable in every direction and our knowledge of it so infinitesimal that he who repeats what is common to all is guilty of a grave wrong to his reader or hearer. This passion to know fully and at first hand, if it could be-come the dominant element in the college atmosphere, would transform college life. It would quickly bring men face to face with the mystery of things and take away the indolence, the trifling, the present tendency to follow the line of least resis-tance. The four years of effort would produce scholars whom the world would welcome and of whom the college could be proud. The spirit of the scholar can be acquired and cultivated and its possession means success, as its absence means failure, in all that is highest in life. COURTESY TO STRANGERS. H. S. DORNBERGKR, '06. A stranger,'no matter where he goes, is bound to receive a certain amount of courtesy. I will attempt to show in this essay that this amount of courtesy is increasing rather than decreasing. During all ages and especially the feudal age, every stranger was sure of receiving food and shelter if he stopped at any house or castle. This was due chiefly to the fact that hotels were not very common until our own age, nor did every village or hamlet have its hotel or inn as is now the case. Then as there were no newspapers until quite recently, a stranger was also received for the news he might bring. It might also be added that the number of travelers at that time cannot be com-pared with the number of the present time. At present this hospitality to strangers is not nearly so evi- '• J Uii. 68 THE MERCURY. dent as it was in former times. The chief cause of this is our modern hotel system. Everywhere one goes he will find some kind of a hotel, no matter what be the size of the place. It may also be stated here that travelers, in most cases, would much rather pay their hotel bills than trouble some one else with entertaining them during their sojourn in the locality. Even among friends one sees this. Very often a friend will come to your vicinity and, rather than bother you, will go to a hotel. Now let us consider whether a stranger would be welcomed did he ask for our hospitality. The ordinary beggar will serve as a good example of this. It is very difficult, indeed, for one to find a home where a beggar will not receive a good meal if he goes and asks for it. Who is so cold hearted that he would refuse anyone shelter from the'cold in winter or the rain in summer? Who would not offer his bed to a sick or wounded person at his door and strive to comfort the unfortu-nate being? In some countries a stranger was always regarded as an enemy unless he could prove himself a friend. In some in-stances it even went so far as to cause the person's death, could he not do this. As we come to more modern times this feel-ing of hostility toward strangers gradually diminished until it has passed entirely out of existence, except among semi-civi-lized peoples. Another example of the growth of courtesy toward strangers is the downfall of absolute monarchism and the rise of more democratic forms of government. This last example may be regarded as not exactly on the subject by some but as it con-sists of the regard of man for man, in my opinion it is after all nothing but courtesy. A still better example is the increase of the value of human life. At the dawn of history the life of a man was held less sacred than a mere dog's life is today. This brings up still another point. In former ages, capital punishment was the mode of exacting justice. Since that time the inflicting of capital punishment has been gradually modi- THE MERCURY. 69 fied from unspeakable tortures to the entire abandonment of this form of justice except in some few cases. The modern rules of etiquette require us to be courteous to strangers. We exert ourselves in every way to please them and try our best to make them feel at home. We even go so far as to deny ourselves comforts for their pleasure. We do not allow them to spend their money. We introduce them to our friends who try to outdo us in their courtesy toward these strangers. Take for example the visit of a noted person to a city or town. Arrangements for his reception are begun al-most as soon as the the news of his intended visit becomes known. Banquets and receptions are given in his honor. He is met at the railroad station by a committee and escorted to his stopping-place. He is cheered by the crowds that gather merely to get a glimpse of him. I believe that courtesy toward strangers is increasing rather than decreasing for we of the present day are just as hospitable toward strangers as were our brethern of former times; and I believe therefore that as the world becomes more civilized, mankind will become more courteous. da I In an up-to-datest tailor-made gown,U-pi-de-i-da The boys arc wild, and prex is, too, You never saw such a hulla-ba-loo. CHORUS. — U-pi-dee-i-dee-i-da 1 etc. Her voice is clear as a soaring lark's, And her wit Is like those trolley-car sparks I When 'cross a muddy street she flits. The boys all have conniption fits I The turn of her head turns all ours, too. There's always a strife to sit in her pew; 'Tis enough to make a parson drunk, To hear her sing old co-ca-che-lunk! The above, and three other NEW verses to U-PI-DEIi, '.'. and NEW WORDS, catchy, up-to-date, to manv fp others of the popular OLD FAMILIAR TUNES; be- ■■ ' JfflHf sides OLD FAVORITES ; and also many NEW SONGS. J*W uull S0NGS OF ALL THE COLLEGES. JjWJ Copyright, Pricei $rjo, postpaid. fa mm if IJLU HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers, New York City. ^ ft ft Schoolbooks of all publishers at one store. ff1' ■> Rupp Building, YORK, PENN'A. Watch for his Representative when he visits the College PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Geo. E. Sparkler, PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSICAL MERCHANDISE MusiC Rooms, - York St. Telephone 181 GETTYSBURG C. B. KITZMILLE,R. DEALER IN HATS, CAPS, BOOTS AND DOUGLAS SHOE.S. McKnight Building, Baltimore St. Gettysburg, Pa. k M. AMrEMAN, Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, paints and (jueensware Gettysburg, Pa. THE ONLY JOBBING HOUSE IN ADAMS COUNTY W.F.Odori, ^DEALER IN^k- SPECIAL RATES TO CLUBS. mm* York Street, Gettysburg:, Pa. 1
Issue 29.3 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint louis, Missouri 63~ o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgto6. + + +. 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 Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly/ and copyright ~) 1970 by at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U,S.A. Second cla~ ~stage paid at ~ltimo~, Mawland and at additional mailing offices. S~gle capita: $1.~. Su~cfiption U,S.A. and Canada: $5.~ a year, $9.~ for two yea~; oth~ coun~: $5,~ a year, $10.~ for two yea~. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVtEW FOR RI:LIGIOL'S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent R.EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom* paaied by a remittance, should be sent to Fan R~m~m.s; P. O. ~x 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busin~ correspondence, and orders not accompanid by RELIGIOUS; 4~8 East Preston Street; Balfimo~, Ma~land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard; Saint Louis, Mi~ouri 63103. Qu~tions for answering should be sent to the addr¢~ of the Qu~fions and ~swe~ ~itor. MAY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 3 HERBERT FRANCIS SMITH, S.J. A Method for Eliminatin Method in Prayer Mental prayer is, .or should be, one of the most per-sonal of all activities. It is an interpersonal event in-volving mutual love and self-communication, and noth-ing is more personal than loving. -Still, beginners in mental prayer usually need helpful hints drawn from-the lives of the saints and others pro-ficient in prayer. These helpful hints come down, in practice, to a method of prayer. Here is a genuine dilemma. A method is an invasion of prayer; a lack of method means inability to pray. How do we solve the dilemma? By giving, beginners a method o[ prayer together with insistence that they jettison the method as soon as they can proceed without it. Among another class of meditators an even more serious dilemma arises. These are the people who have made progress in prayer and withdrawn from method for a while, only to find now that their spontaneous prayer has grown sterile. They seem to need method once again, only now the happy remembrances of per-sonalized prayer induces such a revulsion for method that they are tempted simply to drift rather than submit to codified guidelines anymore. It is above all to the people in the second dilemma that I propose a method for eliminating method in prayer. What these people really need is a method of preparing themselves for prayer. They need a method outside oI prayer Ior eliminating method in prayer. This method for eliminating method is, therefore, not for beginners. It presupposes one experienced in prayer. The method for eliminating method contains, 4- 4- 4- Herbert F. Smith, $.J., r~ides at Joseph s College in Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19131. VOLUME 29, ].970 345 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS incidentally and subordinately, a method to be used in prayer in emergencies. This contingency use will be ex-plained later. It is my con~,ictioh that virtually all who .pray men-tally, need some method of preparing for prayer if they. want optimal prayer and progress in prayer. For this reason I recbmmend the method of eliminating method even to those who are not conscious of either of the ~t~lemmas presented above. The preparation for prayer to be proposed here.can be used as a method ~or elimi-nating method above all by those who have reached the prayer of faith or even gone byond it.1 As a preparation for prayer which can be taken into prayer, what I am going to say here will be as salutary for beginners in prayer as for anyone. For clarity's sake, I will divide this article into three parts: the preparation for prayer; the prayer itself; and the post-prayer activity. Preparation [or Prayer The'best time to make preparation for the next day's mental prayer is in ttie evening before retiring. This is true even if the mental prayer is not to' take place in the morning. The reason for this insistence on the night l~reparation is the nature of the human psyche. Human "thought needs an incubation period in which to germi-nate and gestate. We are inclined" to theidea that all of our thinking is done. consciously; but the fact is, as Freud noted, that conscious psychic activi~ is only the latest arrival 'on the scene of psychic life. The soul never sleeps, and the night can be used to, good purpose if one collects himself to God before he retires. God "gives .to His beloved in sleep" (Ps 127:2). Evening recollection is important even in the shape it gives our dreams. Fur-thermore, preparation for prayer gives our thoughts a definite focus that ~eeds both our conscious aiad sub-liminal psychic processes dui:ing the day. Many great breakthroughs in human .thought have flashed into consciousness at moments when the subject of the in-sight was ~ving all his conscious attention to some other affair. This is proof enough that the inner life of man goes about the concerns of his heart even when he is least aware of it. These gifts from the inner life, how-ever, are not altogether gratuitous. We must plant our questions and our hopes consciously if we want our sub-conscious to give the increase. We do just tha~ by making evening preparation for" the next day's mental prayer. Once we become proficient at ma~ng this preparation for mental prayer, it need take no more than three or ~. ,1 To review the stages of prayer, see a book like Dom Godefroid Belorgey's The Practice of Mental Prayer. four minutes. Initially, tho~gh, ten or fifteen minutes are required. An ideal way to begin tlte preparation is to read a passage from the Gospels; il only for a minute or two. Then lay the Gospels aside and ask oneself the critical question: What do I want to meditate about? At stake here is the insistent fact thatI prayer ought to begin with oneself. A brief reading from the Gospels can establish the climate of prayer, but ~nly the person himself can specify the optimal start"ing point. To automatically meditate on the passage jus~t read can be a fatal error for the next day's meditation. Of course, if a person yearns to take up the Gospels and make them the sub-ject of his meditation, he shbuld do it, but because it is his desire, that is, because i~a reality he is starting with his desire, that is, himself. In prayer, I must begin with myself. I am the only apt launching platform for my prayer. The reason is that prayer, z's has already been said, is one of the most per-sonal of all activities. To ~start with something other than self is to make of medi'tation a study rather than a prayer. No one who wrote a book of meditation points months ago or years ago can tell me here and now what I want to meditate about. Here and now the points probably would not be apt for the authorl Those who use point books ought to us them as I suggest they use the Gospels. Read a set of points, lay the book aside, and ask: Now what do I want to meditate about? If the answer is: The points I hav~ ~ust read, do not use them ¯ exactly as they are, but personahze them according to the method I will introduce shortly. If it can be said as a general truth that failure to ad-dress God in prayer signals failure to love Him, it can also be said that failure to pray personally enough is failure to love rxghtly. Accordingly, we must discover apt and personal prayer eacliI single day. Apt and personal prayer can only start with myself, as I am here and now, thins day, this evening, with its whole train of circumstance.s, concerns, and desires. If simply ignore the whole existential situation, and let a book impose a prayer subject upon me according to such a random determinantt as the page I happen to be on, my prayer cannot possibly emanate from .that per-sonal psychic center where my in-depth living is going on. The result is that neithe~r my heart nor my attention will be captured by my pr~ayer. I will remain divided between my concerns and my prayer. Approaching the same point from another avenue, we can say that there is no really deep prayer without rec-ollecuon, and there xs no recollectxon wxthout presence to the self. I must be collect~d to myself and my deepest ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 1970 34? + ÷ H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 concerns before I can communicate myself to God or to any other. Only if a man enters those inner depths of the self where what he really is, unknown to others and often even to himself, is operative, can he enter into profound relationship with He-who-is. Profound rela-tionships depend on self-communication. The man who does not possess himself cannot communicate himself. We have all had dinner with someone so distracted by every trivial occurrence in the room that he was no com-pamon at all. His hollow presence was an insult. The Lord Himself likens prayer to an intimate evening meal together: "Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him" (Rev 3:20). I must, then, choose my own topic and make my own points out of my own reality to release my own love. That is, I must do this unless lack of prayer experience, exhaustion, or utter dryness compels me to go for help to another. When that happens I must return as soon as possible to my own initiative. My own points may not sound as sublime as the ones in the book. They may not be as sublime, but they may be much more power-ful in moving my emotions, my insights, my convictions, and my actions. A man must bring his current hopes, expectations, frustrations, concerns, and desires into his preparation. Please note: I am not saying: "Make your problems your prayer; bring your problems into your prayer." Such ad-vice would in no way constitute a method for eliminat-ing method in prayer. I am saying: do bring your prob- .lems into your preparation for prayer so that you will not have to drag them into your prayer. In your prep-aration begin with your current concerns; and within the few minutes it takes to prepare points, you will often see that they are really trivial matters yapping at your heels and demanding of you an outsize amount of concern and worry. By giving them your sharp attention for a moment, you can "spank them and put them to bed," and then go far beyond them to give your freed attention to the realest, deepest concerns of your inner self. Only in this way are you likely to have the undi-vided attention absolutely necessary to pursue your real desire, which, in advanced prayer, is to find your Be-loved. There are times when a person's preparation will be-gin with a current problem and end with a current problem. Finel If that is as far as he can get, he has dis-covered that the concern is grave enough to require his prayer time. He can now make his concern his prayer instead of letting it be a distraction--which it certainly would have been if even his full attention cannot put it to rest. I believe many of our worries and concerns continue to plague us only because we never dearly and definitively bring them to our own attention, resolve to do what we can about them, and then commit them to God. We neither focus our minds on the problems nor free ourselves of the problems, and so they continue to wear away both us and our prayer. This approach will gradually eliminate our parasitic worries and cause our other concerns to fall into per-spective and subside. When the surface calms, we will begin to be able to look into our depths and to see clearly once again our realest longings and desires and concerns. Then and only then can we make them the part of our prayer and our lives that they deserve to be. We have triumphed over the distractions, decoys, and red herrings. We are on the way to finding our true selves. It is difficult for a man to find himself, especially in the beginning. It takes courage to seek out what we are. It takes industry to reject the laziness of rote. It takes energy to think and probe. None of us want to use method, but some are really too lazy or too insecure to do anything else. Yet it is only by entering deeply, per-sonally, subjectively into prayer, and engaging in a genuine personal relationship with Jesus that we can avoid reducing prayer to a mere surface phenomenon incapable of producing fire in mind and heart, and so incapable of catalyzing that inner renewal of mind and heart which the Gospels call raetanoia. Let me quote what the great psychiatrist Karl Jung has to say about the failure to adopt an in-depth approach to Christian-ity: The demand made by lmitatio Christi, i.e., to follow the ideal and seek to become like it, should have the resuIt of developing and exalting the inner man. In actual fact, however, the ideal has been turned by superficial and mechanical-minded believers into an object of worship external to them, an out-ward show which, precisely because of the veneration accorded it, cannot reach down into the depths of the psyche and trans-form it into a wholeness harmonising with that ideal. Accord-ingly the .divine mediator stands outside as an image, while man remains fragmentary and untouched in the deepest part of him. Christ can indeed be imitated to the point of stigmati-zation without the imitator's even remotely approaching the ideal or heeding its meaning; the point here is not a mere imitation that leaves a man unchanged and makes him into an artifact--it is rather a matter of realizing the ideal on one's own account (Deo concedente) in the sphere of one's individual life? The cowards who fear entering into themselves or into ~C. G. Jung, Psychological Reflections, ed. by Jolande Jacobi (New York: 1961), p. 279. 4- Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 349 4. 4. 4. H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 Christ will never make real progress in prayer or salva-tion: "But the legacy for cowards., is the second death in the lake of sulphur" (Rev 21:8). It is much easier to fall into some one else's thought pattern than to plough my own way into the future through the use of my own personality, my own initia-tive, my own efforts to think. It is much easier to use someone else's points for meditation than to generate my own. The sad thing is that unless I choose my own sub-ject for meditation and formulate my own points, I will journey in some one else's direction, not my own. I will enter into his thoughts, not mine. I will enter into his self-discovery, and not necessarily discover myself. When we want objective truth, we must go the Church and to all wise men. But when it is a matter of legitimate per-sonal concerns and paths to happiness, there is no sub-stitute for one's own inner voice. The Book of Sirach has some telling words on the point: Finally, stick to the advice your own hear~gives you, no one can be truer to you than that; since a man's own soul often forewarns him better than seven watckmen perched on a watchtower. And besides all this beg the Most High to guide your steps in the truth (37:13, 17, 14, 18). Unlike extrinsic assistance, self-made points hold real promise of self-transformation. The man who makes his own points is most likely to find the way. down into his inner depths and unleash the white hot magma of love and desire that will then break forth into the conscious world of affection and action for Christ. Each of us is best able himself to find and tap his own potential en-ergies. The thoughts that go into making points constitute not only a discovery but a personal experience, and there is no substitute for personal experience. I must begin with what are really my questions and my yearn-ings if the answers experienced are to move me deeply enough to change me into the likeness of Christ. No one else can experience for me, and no one can fully com-municate to me his experience. Let Karl Jung address himself to this felt need for one's own experience of profound realities: The best cannot be told., and the second best does not strike home. One must be able to let things happen. I have learned from the East what is ,,meant by the phrase Wu wei: namely, "not doing, letting be,' which is quite different from doing nothing. Some Occidentals, also, have known what this not-doing means; for instance, Meister Eckhart, who speaks of sich lassen, "to let oneself be." The region of darkness into which one falls is not empty; it is the "lavishing mother': of Lao-tzu, the "images" and the "seed." When the surface has been cleared, things can grow out of the depths. People always suppose they have lost their way when they come up against the depths of experience. But if they do not know how to go on, the only answer, the only advice, that makes any sense is "Wait for what the unconscious has to say about the situation." A way is only the way when one finds it and follows it oneself. There is no general prescription for "how one should do it." 8 There is still another compelling reason for each of us to make his own points. Unless we do we not only may fail to open a fissure through which the flaming energies of our inner life can emerge to become the vital force of our prayer, but we also refuse to open our inner life deliberately and consciously to God, and to ourselves in His presence, so that we can deal with the contingencies which this self-knowledge will certainly give rise to and so that we. can expose the paleness and sickness we will find there to His healing light and care. We are afraid and ashamed to expose burselves even to God, though He alone can heal us. We are also afraid to discover God in our own depths, for fear of the claims He will make on us and the changes He will demand. Jung has clearly discerned the widespread fear of these inner realities. He has found it in high places where it ought not exist: If "the theologian really believes in the almighty power of God on the one hand and in the validity of dogma on the other, why then does he not trust God to speak in the soul? Why this fear of psychology? Or is, in complete contradiction to dogma, the soul itself a hell from which only demons gibber? Even if this were really so it would not be any the less con-vincing; for as we all know, the horrified perception of the reality of evil has led to at least as many conversions as the ex-perience of good.' How can we make any progress in prayer unless we expose Our inner life naked to both God and ourselves? How can we be fully human unless we admit to our-selves that the furnace of our psychic life is full of the raw energies that can be fashioned into" every human desire and every exalted and perverted action that has ever come out of a human being? How can w~ be-fully human without knowing what we can become, or with-out asking God to help us avoid what we might become and to become what we ought? Until we know ourselves rather fully, how can we be deep, or fully unified, or recollected, or ourselves, or facing reality, or communi-cating ourselves whole and entire to God and to man? It is clear to a student of comparative religions like Professor Mircea Eliade that man both loves God and fears Him. Man wants to run to God and run away from Him. Man's psychic life is an amorphous thing. Subcon-scious currents run in contrary directions. A man can both love God and hate Him, cherish Him and resent 8 Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 28~. ' Jung, Psychological Reflections, p. 522. Method ~ Pr~r VOLUME 2% 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Him. Leonard Bernstein's symphony Kaddish vividly portrays this malestrom of emotions which we hide in the subconscious because we think it would be blasphemous to let this raw magma break through and rush up into the open daylight of consciousness. Yet where else can it be tamed and channeled? Where else but in daylight and the open air of exposure to God's grace can it cool and harden and thereafter remain, like the granite and the basalt of the earth, as the memory of the ancient volcano of our revolt, and of God's understanding for-giveness and loving conquest over the self-destructive contradictions rending our own inner selves? There are nuns who need a psychiatrist to tell them they would like to have children; there are nuns and priests who leave the religious life when they discover they have desires for marriage. These people have lived a life divorced from their own souls. Every healthy nun knows she would like a husband and children, and every normal priest knows he would like to marry. That is, they know they share with every human nature these intense longings and powerful drives. No priest or nun is called to suppress these longings by trying to pretend they do not exist. They are rather called to control these drives and consciously forego the joy of their fulfillment for the sake of pursuing their higher, virginal love and service of Christ and the Church.~ The practice of daily communing with our own deep-est selves to make our own points for meditation will help us to keep posted on all these powerful and dan-gerous currents within us. Suppression of awareness permits dangerous psychic pressures to mount, but these vents into consciousness will have the opposite effect. The foul gases of cold or hateful or resentful feelings toward God, can escape, giving us opportunity to feel ashamed, and apologize, and be cleansed and healed. Experienced meditators should be able to make their own points without difficulty, after practicing for two or three weeks. Once they have discovered what it can do for them, nothing will prevent them from continuing except neglect or laziness. These confident statements presuppose that the persons addressed are doing daily spiritual reading, especially of the Scriptures. They pre-suppose a broad knowledge of Scripture and the memory of hundreds of favorite passages which come to mind spontaneously when they are germane to the thoughts of the meditation. I do not believe those who lack a broad knowledge of Scripture can use this method. Healthy Christian prayer hardly seems possible without the knowledge of Scripture wherein God teaches us to pray. Only two people know what I ought to pray about here and now: God and myself. In fact, I reduce that to one. God knows, and I have to find out. That is what I ought to do each night. That is the project of making points. By starting with myself I am most likely to be able to find out. It is also there, in my deepest recesses, that ! am most likely to find God. And only if I find Him will I be truly at prayer, which is not thinking, but communication and communion. Prayer is a work of two. We come now to consider the actual making of the points. As I set about making points, I should be con-sciously guided by two master facts. The first is the stage of prayer I have reached, and the second is my frame of ~nind at the moment. Often these two concerns are in conflict, and one of the purposes the points serve is to resolve this conflict. Master fact one. In slightly advanced states of prayer the meditator is often ruled by the desire to find God in prayer. He no longer wants to reflect on spiritual truths or current events in his life. He wants God's company. Furthermore, he is plagued by an inability to meditate any longer. The reasons for this are taken up in treatises on the stages of prayer.5 Master fact two. The meditator's frame of mind is, for instance, troubled by an event of the day and he wants to think about it. These two desires are in conflict. Unless he resolves the conflict before trying to meditate, he is likely to drift back and forth between the two concerns, not knowing which is the prayer and which the distraction. I would like to give an example of a set of points made in this state of conflict. I am in a stage of prayer in whick I habitually want to find God. At the same time I am concerned about my health. Apparently I have done what I can t:or it, but still I am concerned about it. During the last two or three days, the worry has in-truded itself into my prayer. For the subject of medita-tion I choose: The Divine Physician. The scene to oc-cupy my imagination: ]esus putting clay on the blind man's eyek. I ask the grace: To put myself in the care of the Divine Physician. I now think about the subject for a moment (instinctively guided by the two master facts listed above), and reflectively expand it into three points. FIRST POINT: The God-man, the true Physi-cian. SECOND POINT: I put myself completely in Your care, Divine Healer. THIRD POINT: Lord, now that I am Your concern, You can be my concern. I now choose some phrase which in one or a few words cap- Again I refer to Belorgey, The Practice. Method in Prayer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS H. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures the essence of the meditation. I call it the SPIR-ITUAL CAPSULE: Divine Physician, come! Something very important has transpired here. This simple preparation, which in practice might take me no more than a couple of minutes, was actually a miniature meditation. In this preparation-meditation I have ended my concern by deliberately turning it over ~to Christ. I did that in the second point. At that point I eliminated the conflict and left myself free to pray about my deep-est concerns. That fact is crystalized in the third point, where my attention is focused on the Lord, and I have actually already begun my interchange of affection with Him. In this mini-meditation I have disposed myself for the p.rayer of the presence of God by giving my current concern the momentary attention it needed, which was all the attention it deserves. This telescoping of a medi-tation which might formerly have taken an hour to get the same results into a minute or two is characteristic of persons who have reached more contemplative states of prayer. It proceeds intuitively and almost instantane-ously. It is also characteristi~ of contemplative states of prayer that meditation is displaced from prayer time and is skillfully and spontaneously carried on at odd moments during the day, and at the time of prepara-tion for prayer. Prayer preparation is, in contemplative states, a time to run quickly through meditative mat-ters and then put them aside, and thus put the soul in peace for contemplation. Let us now take the example of a set of points which a man might make while he is in the stage of the prayer of faith, on a quiet day when nothing is troubling him. The master fact governing his choice is his yearning for non-verbal communication with God: SUBJECT Resting with You by faith. SCENE Desert, where You invited the Apostles to come and rest with You (Mk 6:31). GRACE To be still and know that You are G~d (Ps 46:10). FIRST POINT "Commune with your hearts on your beds and be Silent" (Ps 4:4). SECOND POINT "Peace, be stilll" (Mk 4:39). THIRD POINT You lead me beside still waters, You restore my soul (Ps 23:3). SPIRITUAL CAPSULE God There are a number of useful things to be noted in this example. The meditator is addressing God even in the course of preparing points. He sees no sense in talk-ing about God in third person when l~e can address Him directly. Further, he loves to address God and have God address him in God's own words taken from Scrip-ture. And he has culled from Scripture and put down from memory passages he has recently memorised in the course of his Scriptural reading because they aptly de-scribe and Scripturally vouch for the authenticity of his current form of prayer. Finally, he summarizes his whole meditation in one word, knowing that even one word is too many to use in this stage of prayer. A man in the prayer of faith or beyond may make points similar to this most days for months at a time-- or even ~ears. He makes fresh points each day, because there is always a different nuance it is important to ex-press, but the essence remains un.varying. He is in com-munion with God on a deep level little affected by the transient times and tides of each day. The two examples given make it evident that I pro-pose a standard framework to contain the meditation. I call it the spiritual filing cabinet. It is the format made familiar by St. Ignatius. The advantage is that of any filing cabinet. It makes it easy for me to remember and sort out my thoughts each day, since I never vary. the cabinet but only the contents. I write down the medita-tion each night, but just before falling to sleep I can easily recall it from memory because of the standardized framework. On evenings when the preparation is fully successful, I will have disposed of all other concerns by the time I reach the third point, and there be swept up into the presence of God, where I hope to remain until after the hour of prayer the next morning. In that case, I will not recall the points when I compose myself for sleep. The points have eliminated themselves by pro-jecting me beyond them. They have proved their power to be selpeliminating. Let us take an example of a third mood, which is a composite of the two preceding moods, and see the points that come out of it. Personally, the meditator would like to spend his prayer time simply dwelling with God, but he feels he ought to bring the whole world into his meditation. To which of these conflict-ing desires is he really being called by ~race? The an-swer is that if he is in a contemplative stage of prayer such as the prayer of faith, the presumption must be in its favor until experience gives contrary evidence. After all, arrival at such a prayer is a personal invitation from God to come apart and rest awhile. Furthermore, by his contemplation the person is disposing himself to be God's servant to the world. Still, in preparing his medi-tation, the meditator may be able to synthesize the two diverse thrusts of his desire: SUBJECT The God of concern for the world SCENE The God of the world is within me, who am part of the world GRACE To be one with You in Your labors for men, my God and their God FIR, ST POINT 0 God of all origins, Father ingeneratet + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. H. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 SECOND POINT 0 God to the world, Incarnate God-Sonl THIRD POINT 0 God to the world-in-process of being reborn, Holy Spirit with usl SPIRITUAL CAPSULE Com~, Lord Jesus! In this meditation the meditator has succeeded in gain-ing a synoptic view of God and the world, thereby rec-onciling the seemingly opposed desires of his state of mind. Whatever direction his meditation takes in the morning, it should be able to take it without distraction from unreconciled contraries. Sometimes, when there are a few extra minutes avail-able, it is useful to jot down a few sub-ideas under one or more of the three points. Under the first point of the sample meditation just given, one might jot: You are the Father who has instructed us: "Be fruitful and mul-tiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion." Under the second he might jot the words of Jesus: "Fear not, I have overcome the world," and "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly." Years ago, I used to find this helpful, but now I generally find that it only clutters up the meditation and interferes with the simple contemplative gaze the preparation helps me to achieve. Anyone willing to experiment with this method for eliminating method may discover to his joy that while he used to wander to and fro from one book to another looking for something to help him meditate, he now easily discovers what he wants. When he asks: "What do I want to pray about, Lord?" the subject readily comes to mind: The quiet of being with You. "What scene to quiet my imagination?" John leaning on Your breast. What grace? To renew my knowledge of what it means to be with You. Point One: Resting here with You. Point Two: Listening in my heart to what You say. Point Three: Returning the love. Spiritual Capsule: I to You, and, to me, You whom my heart loves. In all of this, I have begun with something even more personal than Scripture. I have consulted God and my-self, and from there gone on to use Scripture, as God's means of communicating with me and I with Him. Slowly I formulate what God and I are to one another at the moment. I find God, and, as best I can, remain with Him until the time of formal prayer the next morn-ing. The Praying Itself If I am to pray in the early morning, the time to begin praying is the moment I awake. If, on awaking, I am in the presence of God, I make no attempt to recall my points. I simply remain with Him. When I come to the formal time for prayer, I do not use my points. Points are not lor use. I abide with God. I pray con-templatively, in a form of non-verbal communication represented by the names, prayer oI faith, prayer ol quiet, and so forth. Of course, this method does not produce such a state of prayer. It only facilitates it for those who have attained to it. Often, it is only by turning away from thoughts of God that we can turn to God, for no thought can con-tain Him, but a thought can distract us from Him. One nun to whom I had communicated these reflections wrote me: I've read a little over half of the Ascent to Mount Carmel. I like John. He is very gentle, thoughtful, and humble. 250 pages of how to do nothing in prayer. You sai,d, it in one sen-tence: "Don't think about God; think God.' I understand that all this background is essential, though, especially since I have not yet learned how to do nothing. This self-eliminating method can help us to bank the flies of our own recollection until it reaches the in-candescence of the prayer of the presence of God. The method is for those who have found and want to hold on to the prayer of communication, communion, and union with God. It is for those quiet enough to hear the call to this prayer, and courageous enough to take the solitary path to their meeting alone with God. The points are designed for self-elimination, but they are also meant to serve as an emergency auxiliary. They are supposed to put us into the orbit of our normal prayer, but they are also' supposed to rescue us if we fall out of it. Should I be unsuccessful in finding God when I awake in the morning, I recall my points and mentally run through them. I center my recollection around them until the time for formal prayer. On coming to prayer, I put aside my points and make another attempt to find God without thoughts or words. If I do not succeed, I resort to my points once again, ' since I have put into them the matters which mean most to me at the mo-ment. They should help me to pray the prayer of sim-plicity, or the prayer of affection, or at least to do some meditating. If not, I will have to turn to some other alternative, such as meditative reading of the Scripture, but only as a good spiritual director, or a reliable book on the stages of prayer, advises.n Sometimes when we attempt to prepare our own points, we will find we are devoid of every thought. We have no choice but to resort to some one else's points. Or do we? That is the time to turn to past sets of our own o In advanced states, it is not easy to know whether we are praying successfully or wasting our time. See, once again, Belorgey, The Practice, or the works of St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and others. + + + Method in Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 357 Sm~t~o S./. RELIGIOUS 358 points, prepared out of our own heads in .richer seasons, and stored up for barren days. At times when I have felt repelled by the thought of any book and unable to prepare a meditation of my own, I have frequently re-sorted to stores of my own points. Almost always two or three sets will guide me into prayer and. recollection within minutes. Once again I am experiencing the grace I received in the day and hour I first used those particu-lar points. Roads we have used to God in the past often remain viable if we can locate them again. We should return often to the sites where He has visited us in the past. This method of preparing points is very useful even for those in earlier stages of prayer, but for them the preparation will not be self-eliminating. They will of necessity take their self-prepared material into the prayer and use it to feed their meditation. They will enjoy most of the benefits of this highly personalized and creative method of prayer. For them too it minimizes method, reduces foreign elements in their prayer to a minimum, and guides them to personal discovery of Christ. When beginners use this method of making points, it will have to be modified somewhat. O[ten, they will not be able to prepare points out of their heads. What they can do is take a Gospel event, analyze it, and put it.into the spiritual filing cabinet according to their own bent. Under each point they should jot down personal ideas and experiences relating to the Scriptural themes. If no personal ideas come, they can be trained to use the ref-erences to related passages such as the Jerusalem Bible gives in such abundance. Looking up these related pas-sages and jotting them down as sub-points will help deepen their understanding of Scripture and develop their power to meditate. They should take about fifteen minutes to prepare points in the beginning. Before long they will show more deftness and originality in use of the method. I taught this method to a group of young sisters with assurance that it would work. Not long after, one of them wrote me: You know, Father, at first when you told us about using our "spiritual capsule" before bedtime and that in time we would awaken at night and find ourselveg" talking to God, I felt it would be years until that could ever happen to me. But it has happenedl Post-Prayer Activity We ought to record worthwhile insights, experiences, and meetings with God in prayer. Reading them over some time later can be the best fuel for future points. As already indicated, we should store up successful self-made points. It is practicable to make points each day in a small note book, dating each day as we go along. When we want to make a post-prayer reflection in writing, put it in the same place. In the future when our mood is such that we want to return to some explicit past meditation, we will be able to find it with ease and benefit by it again. This method for eliminating method in prayer has been well tested and proven. It requires some trouble on our part, but it eliminates a lot more trouble than it takes. It is a method with a high yield. For surely he is going to make the most progress in his search for God who starts not from some one else's starting point but from his own. + + + VOLUME 29, 1970 DOM JOHN MAIN, O.S.B. V ew Dora Johu Main, O.S.B., a monk of Ealing, is presently living at St. An-selm's Abbey in Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Once upon a time a small boy and his old uncle were out for a walk in their city. It was a large city and had in it all sorts of wonderful modern buildings and wonderful modern people. It was called Secular City and was beautifully situated in a deep valley with spectacular high mountains rising up all around it. The small boy and his uncle had strayed into an older part of the city, and the boy was very surprised when they came upon a large building in a ruinous condi-tion. This was an altogether unusual sight in the modern city, and the small boy was upset by it. He thought how marvelous the ruins must have looked in their day. Pointing to the ruin, one feature of which seemed to have been a very high tower, he asked his uncle what this ugly eyesore was doing here. The old uncle sighed; he hated his young nephew to see anything that was ugly. "Well," he started, "I can remember that building well. It was very fine in its day, with a great high tower which reached way up above Secular City. They said that the view from the tower was absolutely stupendous." "But how on earth did it become such a ruin?" asked the small boy, looking now with an even greater interest at the noble ruins. "Well, you see," the uncle started, "a rather special group used to live there. They really did a great job for the whole community in rather a strange sort of way. You see in our Secular City we are stir-rounded by mountains and, as a result, we tend to get rather closed in on ourselves. It's rather difficult to ex-plain, but we tend to think of everything in terms of Secular City. Well, the group that lived there built a large and very high tower--to see the wonderful view; and in some strange way this view of theirs seemed to add a new dimension to the life of the group that made them rather special people in Secular City." The boy listened to this explanation with great at-tention. He wondered how a view could have so changed a group. Turning his innocent face to his uncle, he asked, "How do you mean--special people? Did the view make them a bit odd?" "I suppose it did in a way," the uncle replied, try-ing to recall the group to his mind. "We could never quite understand why they were so concerned to pro-vide schools and hospitals, orphanages and old people's homes. We just accepted the fact that somehow or other the view was at the back of it all." He thought very quietly to himself and added: "Anyone who needed help seemed to become the concern of the group. It all happened a long time ago, and I can'( remember too. well now; but it seemed that they brought all their talents together and used them wherever there were people in need." The uncle had not thought of these things for a long time. It was the dedication of the group that now struck him as the hallmark of their work. He wondered, to himself how he had been so lacking in curiosity about the view when the group had been such a creative force in the city. The little boy now looked really puzzled. "Well, what happened," he asked, "How did it all become a ruin? Did some tyrant come' and run them out of town?" "You remember me telling you about the tower, and how hard it was to climb to the top," the uncle went on. "Well, it appears that over the years, the staircase that went up to the top got rather old and worn out-- I think there was woodworm or maybe dry rot--and the group decided that they would have to rebuild it. And that was when all the trouble started. Some of the group just wanted to repair the staircase, but others said that was no good because the dry rot, or maybe it was woodworm, ~vould just affect the new wood. Then someone who was really very modern got the idea of pulling down the staircase and putting in an elevator. The trouble with this idea was that they couldn't get the elevator shaft in without pulling down the staircase, and that's when the trouble really started. In the old days, you see, there had always been some of the group either at the top of the stairs looking at tile view, or. some of them on the way up to encourage the others. I'm not too sure about this, but I think it was.rumored that even before all the discussions started, there. weren't quite so many climbing so high up the tower. I think I remember it being said that the group spent a lot of time looking after all .their plant and not quite so much time getting up to the view. In any case, they all seemed to agree that the stairs had to be rebuilt. But, when this argument started, they all got so involved in the discussion about the elevator, that ÷ ÷. ÷ VOLUME 29 1970 361 ~ ÷ ÷ + Dom John Main REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 they all began to come down to join one of the com-missions they set up." "What's a commission?" the small boy asked, looking rather puzzled. The old uncle tried to look very wise. "A commis-sion," he faltered, "was a part of the group set up to examine some particular problem. They usually passed out questionnaires which everybody had to fill in, and these suggested new questions and more questionnaires. I never really understood the process---but I believe it was quite essential." The little boy did not seem to be paying much atten-tion to this; and, turning his perplexed face to his uncle, he pondered: "But was anyone trying to keep going up the tower to see the view while those com-missions met?" He was only a small boy, but it seemed to him that if the view had been so important in the past it might even inspire the work of the commissions. "I suppose some were," replied the old uncle, "but then they all seemed to get nervous about the founda-tions." "The foundations," replied the small boy, now look-ing at his old uncle with something like incredulity. "Yes," went on the uncle. "You see, after a while the discussions shifted from the question of the elevator or the stairs to another more fundamental matter, namely, would the foundations really support any new structure at all?" "Well, if they supported the old one, why shouldn't they support the new one?" asked the small boy. "And, anyway, what about the view? Didn't anyone even want to risk trying to get up to see the view?" "The problem was," explained the uncle, "that the old structure had really become very rickety by this time. The group was finding that the stairs just wouldn't carry them up anymore. And the foundations, this was quite a problem. But perhaps more serious was another thing. You remember me telling you that in our Secular City we get rather inward looking--strange to say this way of thinking now began to affect the group. In the old days they had brought quite a new dimension 'to the city, but now somehow or another they became like the rest of the people around them in the city." The boy now looked very serious indeed. "They should have tried to keep contact with that view," he said his face had become very determined and set. "I don't think we should be too hard on them," replied his uncle; "it was a difficult problem to know how to renew those stairs." But even as he was saying this, at a deep level he shared his nephew's regret. "But what happened?" urged the small boy. "Did the commission ever come up with a solution?" In spite of his black looks of a moment ago, his innocence forced him to believe that there must be a solution. The old uncle tried to remember. "I just can't re-call," he said. "There used to be a lot of talk about the group but then people seemed to forget about them." It was getting late and they had to be going home, but the small boy wanted to take a closer look at the ruin. They walked over and both looked at one an-other in surprise. There seemed to be sounds coming from the basement--was someone working at the foundation? But, it was time to go. "I wonder what that view was really like?" mused the small boy, looking up at the great ruined tower. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 29, !970 EUGENE C. AHNER, S.V.D. Toward a Renewed Life in Communi Eugene C. Ah-her, SN.D., is the dean of men at the S.V.D. Major Sem-inary; 4000 13th St.; Washington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There was a lawyer who to disconcert him stood up and said to him, "Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He replied, "You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your s~rength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.' "You have answered right" said Jesus; "do this and lif.e is yours" (Lk 10:25-8). At this level we all find ourselves in agreement. The purpose of our lives, the goal of our struggle as human beings, as Christians, as priests or religious, is the love of God and neighbor. Here we all celebrate together and find ourselves in familiar company whether we are young or old, liberal or conservative, particularly pious or not. In fact, if we really pressed the issue we would find there are very few, if any, who are against love. After all, everyone wants love, truth, peace, brotherhood. However, as we go one step further and begin to ask what is real love anyway and how does one respond in the face of non-love, of hate, deception, and fear, the whole harmonious scene changes. What seems so simple and clear immediately becomes immensely complex and confused. Conflicting attitudes, opposing groups, and divergent ideas splinter in all directions. And we find ourselves in agreement with Qoheleth as he says: "I find that God made man simple; man's complex problems are of his own devising" (Eccl 7:29-30). The real problem, then, is not who wants love and truth and goodness, but how do we live in the face of evil. For, in each of us and in the world about us, there are not only the elements of life and growth but also the seeds of death and destruction. And while we may be quite sensitive to and indignant about the evil out-side of us, we are fearfully reluctant to look directly, clearly, and without dodging or panicking at the evil inside our own hearts. And yet, unless we are in touch with ourselves as we truly are and with our brother as he truly is, talk of love is futile. For the sad fact is that what then goes for love is rather an exercise in self-protection or self-aggrandizement at the expense of both myself and my brother. The gxeat task before each man, then, is really the human task. The fundamental point of religious life is common to all: to find oneself; to find one's brother; to find God. For, unless we are in touch with this funda-merit of reality we cannot walk the way of love. This discovery of our own true dimensions, tlie experience of our human situation, is a prelude to a life of love. And yet the one thing we attempt to avoid is knowing our-selves as we truly are--to enter into the wasteland of our own heart and discover there the dimensions of the sinner as well as the saint, the evil as well as the good, the love of death as well as the love of life. We are ca-pable of hate as we are of love, of anger as we are of af-fection, of the irrational as of the rational. No doubt the religious and monastic thing has always intended to bring a man in touch with himself as tie truly is--the long hours of aloneness, of fasting, of re-flection, of self-accusation, of spiritual direction. How-ever, there is no need to prove that the intended results have not kept pace with the practices and that, to the contrary, there are enough instances of these practices actually being used in such a way as to support and contribute to the dream world of self-deception and of the flight from the reality of oneself and one's neighbor. In fact, we might even wonder whether some of our more recent theologizing and liturgical celebration are not weakened by this very sort of glibness and superficial-ity with which it slides over the problem of evil and death. This can only lead to a kind of astonishment and perhaps eventual disillusionment when the repetition of the words love, community, hope, and life do not really seem to overcome hate, isolation, despair, and death be-cause they have never really met each other seriously and head-on. Each set of experiences is kept separate from the other because deep in our hearts we are not so very sure that love can really overcome fear and that truth is really stronger than pretense. The world of the kingdom, of truth, and of love is expressed and cele-brated loudly and clearly but in an uprooted and imag-inary world of its own. The world of sin and of death is kept apart, quiet and repressed deep inside the heart unknown even to the heart itself. Jeremiah says: "The heart is more devious than any other thing, perverse too; who can pierce its secret?" (Jer 17:9) And it is here in the unfathomable depths of the heart that the human ego keeps itself. + ÷ Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 365 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. ~. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 The difficulty of honestly facing our fear and the de-viousness of our own hearts has led us to many disguises and subterfuges to avoid the kind of confrontation that brings to light what is now in darkness. More by way of example than by exhaustive analysis, I would like to list three common ways we avoid the reality of who we are. Repression We are all acquainted with the small child who, in wanting to hide from someone, simply covers his own eyes. And so, not able to see the other, he feels well hid-den and secure. We smile at the naiveness of the child but what is innocent enough at that level becomes dev-astat! ng for adults who continue to deal with reality in this way. The easiest way of dealing with the unpleas-ant is to act as if it were not there. Somehow, by ig-noring it, it will go away. If our feelings run counter to what we are expected to feel, to think, or to do, the quickest way of dealing with the situation is to ignore or repress the feelings. If our feelings are so strong that we don't know what they might lead to, the safest thing is to repress them. Concretely, if I have sexual feelings or fantasies for someone of the same or opposite sex and for whatever reason feel that I shouldn't, I will tend to act as if they are not there. If I feel so angry inside that I am afraid that I will lose control and really hurt someone, I will try to play it safe and keep all feelings well under control. If I feel tender or affection-ate but consider such feelings unmanly, I will hide them. But the sad fact is that we cannot exercise such selec-tive repression. Before long we find that we do not know how we feel anymore and soon we discover that we no longer consciously feel anything at all. The price of re-pressing unwanted feelings is the numbing of all feelings. But deep inside there is a lump and we are depressed or forever anxious. And so we walk about like hollow peo-ple, not obviously angry or unkind but not able to love or feel deeply for anyone either. It becomes too dangerous to let go of any feeling because something else might come up that we cannot handle. But even that might not be too high a price to pay for external control. The fact is though that nothing is simply repressed without making itself felt somehow or somewhere--which brings us to our second ploy. Transference Everything that has made up our life leaves its mark and calls for its share of recognition. And if we are un-willing or unable to face the feelings that arise directly from the situation, we will have to face them in some other area that has no direct relation to the original feeling. Almost classic now is the understanding that masturbation, for example, is not simply a sexual prob-lem but a release of anger, frustration, feelings of in-adequacy and overdependency, that are not being met at the level where the issues really are. Another broad area of transference is the focus of all one's interests and energy on the great battle of evil out-side of ourselves. Especially today at a time of such far-reaching change and critical reevaluation there is no lack of evils to attack or causes to be advanced. All of which is fine and to be commended provided that it is not merely a front for avoiding the evil inside of our-selves. The real problem is that whatever evil exists around us also has basic roots and affinities inside of us. So, unless we have faced the evil within, our attempts to deal with it outside will be more a case of evil meet-ing evil, violence opposed to violence, lust opposed to lust, totalitarianism opposed to totalitarianism. And the end result will be ambiguity, hostility, restlessness, and the alienation of feeling. The present day religious community in transition is an excellent breeding ground for this kind of malaise. It becomes so much easier to fight the corruption in institutions and structures than in ourselves. And the sad fact is that there is so much that needs to be renewed but the one who is vigorously tear-ing down structures does not even realize that he is pri-marily fighting something in himself. Intellectualism This is an occupational hazard of any academic or student community. It is rooted in the realization that whatever can be understood can also be controlled. Therefore, if we intellectualize our whole life, our feel-ings and relationships as well, we can always be in con-trol. And as long as we maintain control, no one can get too dose to us, no one will be able to hurt us. manipulate persons and relationships, often unknow-ingly, in order to keep them at a distance and so pick and choose what is safe and what we can master. It means, of course, that all spontaneity must be censored and no feelings may overstep our present intellectual understanding. Feelings, then, become techniques to use "for effect." Relationships become calculations and the question becomes what should I feel rather than what do I feel. Life becomes a question of control, and lost are the directness and closeness of Christ: anger, fear, tears, and tenderness. And in the end, since the feelings have not been dealt with honestly, they will crop up in some often unsuspecting way and cry out for recognition. + + + Toward Renewed VOLUME 29, 1970 E. C. Abner, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 Perhaps it will be one person or one thing that will have to bear in an unreal and overdependent way our total emotional life. These are some of the more common ways we use to protect ourselves from others. But systematically and imperceptibly what we have hidden about ourselves from others also becomes hidden from ourselves. And so we find that we are not only strangers to others but finally also to ourselves. By middle-age most of us are accomplished fugitives not only from others but radi-cally from ourselves, thereby losing touch with the true source of life and renewal and motivation within us. What is it that drives us so far from ourselves and others? What subtle and all-pervasive element in our lives creeps into every aspect of it? What holds us in a closed and guarded defense rather than in an open and loving embrace? We are in fact face to face with fear-- our great fear that if we are known as we truly are we will not be lovable, will not be accepted, but rather that we will be taken advantage of, laughed at, hurt, or ignored. If others really knew that I am not only strong and capable but also weak and afraid, that I not only have desires of love and goodness but also of hate and destructiveness, would I still be loved and accepted or would I be crushed and rejected? I would venture to say that the great feeling of worthlessness so prevalent among people today is a direct result of their fear to be themselves. And we have reason to be afraid because to be our-selves means openness and vulnerability and honesty and confession of weakness. Revealing ourselves might destroy us. And if life is a little flicker between the darkness from which we have come and the darkness to which we will return, then we will do all that we can to grab it and. protect it. And so we proceed to build walls a~ound our weakness, to present only our strengths, to acknowledge only what is good and loving in us and we try to cover over what is weak and evil. We will be careful always to be in control and to have enough "pro-tection" between ourselves and others. And yet the fact is that only when we break through this hard shell can we be truly lovable. Only then can someone know who we are and love us. The very defenses we use not to get hurt are the walls that keep others out and make it ira-possible for another to really love us. And so we end up with the sad paradox that what we want most, to love and to be loved, is the thing we most thwart by our at-tempts to achieve it--through impressing others with being strong, trying to merit another's love by only re-vealing our "best" side. All this despite the experience we also share of actually feeling a greater love rather than less towards someone who may have revealed his own weakness to us. As John says so succinctly: "In love there can be no fear, but fear is driven out by perfect love: because to fear is to expect punishment, and any-one who is afraid is still imperfect in love" (1 Jn 4:18). So the very possibility of love depends on our willing-ness to face weakness and evil as it truly is--in ourselves and in our brother. Love does not solve the problem of evil by eliminating or avoiding it. That is impossible. To attempt a solution of evil by elimination is to believe that evil is only extraneous to man, that were it not for an evil society man could live in love and truth. In this view, evil would be successfully overcome if it could only be eliminated from the society in which man lives. It would be to act as if man were an angel who did not have deep within himself seeds of both good and evil. Rather, the only route open in the face of evil is to suff~r through evil without the loss, the capacity for love. In other words, evil must be transcended, not es-caped from or eliminated, and this cannot be achieved apart from the journey through the lust of one's own hell. So, finally, it is man himself and not evil which is redeemed. Evil, sin, and death will remain but they can be transcended provided that the individual face them in imagination and go beyond them in an act of love that restores the mystery of being and reveals the limit-lessness of man's freedom and responsibility. It is only by personally facing the depths of one's own despair, hate, violence, doubt, nothingness, aloneness that hope and love and redemption and faith are the victories that overcome, transcend the world. We do not face evil by simply committing it because this is in fact to sur-render to it. We do not face it by acting as if it were not a reality inside ourselves because this is mere,escapism to an unreal world which makes any real solution impossible. But rather, we must enter it through the imagination, risk the possibility of doing it, and with this necessary psychic distance, to transcend it. But as we consider these dynamics, are we not face to face with the religious thing, with the task of religious development in a community? A home wher~ I can search out my own heart, to discover the depths ~f the sinner and the saint, and to be accepted and erhbraced in a fraternity of sinners redeemed by Christ's 10ve. A group of persons with whom I can be myself, be open with-out deceit and not stand constantly under the sentence of being ridiculed, ignored, or taken advantage of. A place where the forgiving and creative form of love is operative and allows new possibilities of life to be re-vealed from sin and death. A zone of truth s~here evil will not be run from or ignored but faced ste,hdfastly with + + Toward Renewed Lile VOLUME 29, 1970 369 love. A community where there are honest men seeking for truth and love who are willing and able to accom-pany me in my journey. For this kind of atmosphere will allow an individual to take the fearful plunge and search the darkness of his own heart, to transcend the evil in his own life, and to face clearly the choice of lov.ing or hating, believing or doubting, being honest or hiding, hoping or despairing, living or dying. Is this not really what we should be about in our own life in community? The religious community is not a place to protect a person from himself, from reality, to escape or ignore evil, but rather to open him to the reality of himself and to reality in general. What re-newal has discovered is not a new commandment but the necessity of more penetrating and decisive ways of facing and knowing ourselves totally, good and evil. Only then can we really begin to walk the way of that first and all-inclusive command: "Love God with your whole heart and your neighbor as yourself." 4- 4- E. ~. Ahnt~', $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 ALAN AMBORN The Helpful,.Lifer It seems to be rather common opinion' that convicts who turn to God are nothing but hypocrites. Nothing could be farther /from the truth. You can read here what rel!gion really means to a prisoner. There are many people who seem to wqnder exactly what part religion can and does play in American prisons today. It is my opinion that it pla~s a very im-portant part, even though people may frequently say: "Isn't it all hypocrisy? Is a convicted felon ,really sincere when he turns to God only after he has b~en found in his crimes?" To that question we can posiibly have as many answers as there are men in prison. It may seem strange but it is nevertheless true that the people who ask such questions are us~ually people who have little, if any, firsthand information about prisons or prison inmates. What little info,rmatlon they have was obtained from reading the newspapers. Only too often such information is scanty and, at times, even misleading. , Suppose we begin with the assumption, that ninety-nine per cent of the men and women res.iding in the penitentiaries are guilty of the crimes for, which they have been sentenced. A large proportion 'of these are first offenders, many of whom have been committed to prison for crimes of omission, accident, or sheer stupid-ity rather than deliberate crimes of cupidity. Further-more, I would say that by far the majority of these are determined that they will never again come in conflict with the law once they have completed their sentences. The point I am trying to make is that among our prison inmates there are those who could possibly be classed as ogres, madmen, or depraved individuals, but they are in the minority. The greater part of our prisoners are peo-ple who have feelings, conscience, and a deep awareness of what they have done to their victims, their loved ones, and to themselves. In a prison, men and women who have been torn from their homes, wives, children, sweethearts, and + + + Alan Amborn 16376 can be writ-ten to at Box 900; Jefferson City, Mis-souri 65101. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS friends are forced to live an almost completely monastic life. Despite the many humane reforms in our modern penal systems, the average prisoner still undergoes the shock of isolation, the moral shame and degradation that follow his being sentenced. A first offender's initial few months is, generally, a period of shock, humiliation, despair, and above all, one of loneliness beyond descrip-tion. No one, not having experienced that first night when the cell door slams with such frightening finality and the lights go out, could be expected to understand the feel-ings that encompass the now totally miserable individ-ual. Along with the sense of loss come degradation and despair with a special kind of fear--spiritual and moral as well as physical. A person having experienced these feelings could never forget them. A person not having experienced them could never understand exactly what they were. Those first-night horrors can, and do, shake the most calloused lawbreaker to the very core of his being. Is it any wonder, then, that prisoners turn to what should have been their constant solace and comfort but, too often, is their last resort--their God and their Bible? It is the only answer and solution to a problem of pain that can drive the most hardened sophisticate mad. I speak from firsthand, if tragic, experience. I am an inmate of a Midwestern penitentiary. This is not my first prison. Yet, in each I have seen the word of God work wonders when everything else tried had failed. Any man or woman who is not completely amoral has some degree of sensitivity. Convicts are no exception. Even though the State, through legislation, charity, and necessity, provides for the prisoner in regards to his or her material and spiritual wants, there is always one factor that cannot be provided for, and that is the purely private and personal feelings of the individual. From unforgettable personal and bitter experience I know this common factor. Even though the warden of a prison were to offer a sympathetic ear to the inmate, the pris-oner's recent association with the police, the court, judge, and the jury, would have, consciously or uncon-sciously, erected a mental barrier that is, during the first months of imprisonment, not easily scaled. To the average prisoner who is experiencing his first imprison-ment, even the kindly ministrations and gestures of a chaplain, psychologist, or psychiatrist are often rejected and disregarded simply because the prisoner is not in a receptive mood or frame of mind. Very few convicts .are inclined to make officials of any stature their confidants. In the case of the new prisoner's family, the shock and shame emanating from their loved one's conviction and imprisonment is usually so great that they are at a com-plete loss as to what to do toward comforting or en-couraging their father, brother, or son. In a great ma-jority of the cases I have personally observed, the family procrastinates; they do nothing, waiting for the impris-oned man to make the initial move. Any conscientious prison official can tell you how inadvisable this attitude is. It is the usual procedure or custom in most prisons to have the new inmate or "fish" go through a thirty day period of isolation. There are two reasons for this pro-cedure: a hygienic check-up first, and then the period in which the authorities observe the conduct and attitude of the man. The officials, for security purposes, must know the moods, manners, and intentions of their new charges. Is the "fish" mentally or physically sick? Is he antagonistic or dangerous? Will he harm himself or some inmate in his anger and frustration? This period of isolation is by far the worst part of imprisonment for any convict, but especially so for the prison novice. This is the danger point for the emotion-ally distraught and the mentally unbalanced; this is the period where the man, all alone, must separate himself from the world of the living he has "always known, and accept and adjust himself to the frightening new world of the living dead. It can very well be the ebb tide of his life. This is the time when, no matter if he has been lax in his practice of religion, an agnostic or even an atheist, he will, he must, within himself turn to God. He must if he is to survive. For be he Christian or Jew, Muslim or Buddhist, young man or old, every fibre of his body, mind, and spirit will search for someone or something to turn to--someone who is understanding and who will show forgiveness without reservations. And it is inevita-ble that sooner or later he must come to realize that the someone or something that fills all his desperately needed requirements is the Someone who has always been standing by to forgive, forget, and accept. Happy indeed is the individual who brings a Bible to prison with him. Very few prisons provide a newcomer with this precious and cherished book. Many times I have overheard convicts state their desire and need for a Bible. In some prisons the chaplains provide these holy texts out of their own pockets. To my knowledge and experience, though, no American prison voluntarily supplies them to their inmate population. I assume that the reason for this seemingly official attitude is felt to be in keeping with our inherent American principle of freedom of religion, or in this instance, freedom from religion. + ÷ ÷ TI~ l:leIplul Liter VOLUME 29, ~.970 4, 4, Alan Ambo~n REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS :374 Again drawing from personal experience, I know just how fertile a field for converts prisons are. Much has been written about our jails and prisons being breeding places for more crime, moral deterioration, and physical perversion. This, too often, is the case. Men who are lonely, devoid of hope, ambition, and initiative are easily led. The professional criminal and perennial jailbird are too often the leaders. These emotional and moral misfits know only one path to take. If a man can-not find the comfort and solace he desperately needs in this crisis of his life from friends and family, he will seek these two important factors in one of two places: with his equally despondent, lonesome, and lost fellow-convicts, or in his God. And there are infinitely more convicts in prisons than there are messengers of the Lord. Peace of mind and acceptance of God's will are even more important in an imprisoned man's life than it is in a free man's. For, having broken both God's as well as man's laws, the prisoner is usually weighted down with a double sense of guilt and remorse. And many times I have seen the moral and spiritual rebirth of an individ-ual brought about by his reintroduction to his Maker through the Bible. I was born of God-loving Roman Catholic parents. In our home, belief and respect for God were made part of our daily lives. Furthermore, He was a most essential part. I was sent to parochial and higher schools and, as a result, was well versed in the fundamentals of my faith. It was only after I stupidly and callously began to disregard the teachings and tenets of my faith that I began to ruin my life, and even worse, the lives of those who loved, believed, and trusted me. That, to me, is the greatest tragedy of the man in prison--those he left on the outside. Like so many of my ilk, stewing in bitterness and shame, I gave little thought to God during my first years of imprisonment, particularly after I was no longer a "fish." I turned completely deaf ears to the overtures of the prison chaplain and to well-intentioned state of-ficials. My attitude was one of "these state officials put me in here and now they are trying to persuade me that they want to help me; how stupid do they think I am?" That's a question I often ask myself these days. I know now how stupid this line of destructive thinking is, but I didn't in those earlier days. I know, too, that this is the line of thought that most new inmates take. Out of sheer boredom and because it afforded me an opportunity to get out of my cell for an hour, I attended a few church services. But if I actually thought of God at all, it was to blame Him for having failed me--never my having failed Him. That should give you an idea of how stupid a man in prison can be. That old clichd of "misery loves company" really gets a workout in prison. I recall vividly some of the discussions I had with fellow-convicts during my first days in the "joint." Few, if any, were ever in a construc-tive vein. They were almost always filled with bitterness and recriminations; not directed at ourselves where they rightfully belonged, but at our captors, our wardens, and even at our families and friends. As for me, per-sonally, I was the epitome of bitterness, frustration, and hopelessness. Through my own stupidity and cupidity I had lost my family and friends (so I thought at the time), and instead of doing anything constructive about regaining these lost loved ones, I submerged myself in a sea of self-pity in which I almost drowned. I was simply over-flowing with moral indifference, false pride, and per-verted thinking. I was fast approaching a point of no return. That is the point in a man's life when one more foolish or careless mistake can completely and irrevoca-bly preclude any possibility of his again becoming a use-ful, acceptable part of the human race. Then, I met a convict named Alex. One day during a recreational period in the yard, an inmate I didn't know came up to me. Though I had never spoken to this convict, I knew about him. I had first noticed him through a peculiar habit he had. I should clarify that by stating that this habit was pecu-liar in prison; he carried a book under his arm wherever he went. Upon asking some of the other inmates about this, I was told that he was a "lifer" who had already served twenty years, who had little or no hope of a pardon or parole, and that he was a religious fanatic. In prison, the term "religious fanatic" has a wide meaning, ranging from a man who goes to church services once a year to a man who attends services regularly. Another thing that set this inmate in a separate category with his fellow-convicts was that he was a "loner." A "loner" in prison jargon is a convict who stays strictly to himself, has no friends or close associates, and never participates in any prison activities. Even the prison officials look askance at this type of a convict and pay particular at-tention to his every move. For "loners" are the ones who most frequently crack mentally or emotionally. This prisoner I am writing of was in his early fifties, of a serious demeanor, short and on the heavy side, and whose face, though handsome, was lined with suffering. His eyes indicated character and depth. The moment he spoke to me I knew he was well educated. He was courteous and had an air of quiet dignity about him, 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 2% 1970 375 + 4. Alan Ambovn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and I immediately sensed an aura of well-being and contented resignation emanating from him. He wasted no time on social discourse. His opening words were: "Alan, I understand you are a Catholic." As he saw the look of complete bewilderment on my face, he continued: "Father Jerome told me that you had been educated in Catholic schools and that you might be able to help me with my catechism. You see, I am a convert and I'm hoping to be baptized in the near future." I was too amazed to answer him. The first thought that went through my head was that this was a gag of some sort, perpetrated by the fellows I had been hanging around with. Noticing my hesitancy and seeming to read my mind, he went on: "I'm really serious about this, Alan, and though I haven't much, I'd be willing to pay you for your trouble." Something in his manner told me that he was in earnest, but I still hesitated. Finally, I asked him: "How come you and Father Jerome picked on me? I haven't been to Mass since coming here and, as a matter of fact, I have not even been inside a church in over two years." "We never discussed that," he replied. Then he con-tinued: "All we talked about was your school back-ground. Alan, there are a lot of fellows getting instruc-tions and Father, with all his other work, is getting snowed under. When I asked if there were any Catholic men here that might help me, your name came up. As I'm sure you know, each Catholic convert needs a baptismal sponsor. I have no family or friends, so I thought that you might." His voice trailed off, as if in embarrassment, and he waited to see what I would say. When I didn't answer, he said: "I swear to you that there was nothing put on or planned about my asking you this. Your name was alphabetically first and that is how I chose you. Father even warned me that you would not be very receptive to the idea, but I thought otherwise. I guess I was mis-taken. If you'd rather not do it, that's okay, too." He started to walk away. I perhaps will never know just what made me stop him, but stop him I did. It probably was the wisest decision I ever made: "If Father Jerome and you think I am qualified to help you, it's all right with me. Forget that talk about paying me. Remember this, though, it has been a long time since I've seen a catechism book or even discussed religion. You might very well know more about the subject than I do. If you really feel that I can be of some assistance, it's a deal." To this day I don't know what Father Jermone's mo- tives were in sending Alex to me. I honestly can't say whether he had a motive or not; but whatever the case, it helped the two of us. Alex was baptized and I re-turned to my lost faith. As I told Alex, I was very rusty on my catechism and had to do a lot of research. Alex's knowledge of the Bible was far superior to mine; and though, at first, he was kind enough to pretend that this was not the case, it wasn't long before I was the student and Alex was the tutor. His tremendous grasp of both the New and Old Tes-taments was amazing. He could quote verbatim lengthy passages from both texts and never in a parrot-like man-ner. He had a profound understanding of its parables and lessons. No matter what subject or problem we might be discussing, he could find a parallel in the Holy Book, and no matter how bleak a person's outlook on life might be, Alex's Biblical parallels always seemed to offer comfort and hope to the individual. Though I don't believe he ever realized it, Alex was a salesman for the Lord; and he was a good one. The one thing that impressed me and everyone who knew him was his obvious sincerity and his calm acceptance of a fate that was, by all standards, unenviable. As I mentioned previously, he was serving a life sentence with little or no hope of pardon. The fact that this out-wardly didn't raze him and his seemingly calm accept-ance of spending the rest of his life behind bars natu-rally puzzled me. I told him so on one occasion. He explained that when he had first arrived at the prison he had been bitter and lost. Due to his behavior pattern, he had spent forty-nine months of the first five years of his sentence in solitary confinement. It was during one of these sessions of enforced solitude that Alex was given a Bible. Sheer boredom and the lack of anything else to read led to his initial interest in the Book. He honestly admitted that this interest was fostered by a human desire to do something--anything--to help pass the endless hours he was forced to spend alone. Alex had never spoken of the crime that had put him in prison; and I, in keeping with prison custom, had never asked him. However, it was common "yard" gossip that it was murder. Alex told me that his behavior problem came from his overactive conscience and his inability to forget what he had done. He was in a position that thousands of convicts find themselves in. For though soc!ety had in-dicted, convicted, and punished him, and then legally forgotten him by reason of more notorious and head-lined crimes, Alex himself could not forget nor forgive ÷ + + VOLUME 29, 1970 4. ÷ Alan Amborn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 what he had done. His misbehavior and antagonistic attitude was a masochistic drive to punish himself. One day while going through the Bible in his solitary cell, he came across the story of Mary Magdalene. It fascinated him. Here was someone who had been steeped in sin like he was and who had asked for and had been given mercy and forgiveness. He went on with his reading, this time deeply impressed and eager. When he came to the story of the crucifixion, he was spell-bound. The agony and torture that Jesus went through wrung his heart. He told me that for the first time in his adult life, he wept. When he came to the climax of the great tragedy, the scene in which Christ, suffering unto death, took time out from His final agonies to forgive His murderers and the Good Thief hanging beside Him, Alex said a wave of understanding and peace descended on him. He said that he had gotten down on his knees to pray, and that while doing so he suddenly and finally knew that he had someone to turn to. Someone who would understand and forgive and who would give him a chance to atone for his sins and his crimes. This knowledge was what permitted Alex to accept his fate and lot so calmly. Through Alex and his application of the Bible in his daily life, I came to know and realize that many of our everyday seemingly insoluble problems have answers that can be found in the Holy Book. The trials and tribulations of our daily lives seem minute in compari-son to what the people of Biblical times faced. I believe that anyone possessed of an inherent sense of honesty detests hypocrisy. Convicts are no different. Any prison chaplain is constantly bombarded with this hackneyed excuse: "Padre, I didn't go to church on the outside, why should I be a hypocrite and start going now?" It's true, the words may differ on occasion, but the philosophy never changes. In many ways this atti-tude could be interpreted as an admirable quality in a man if it were not, in the case of the convict, such a stupid and senseless one. Anyone taking the time to look through the Bible can find any number of instances where even the most devoted and revered of God's saints were at one time in their lives steeped in sin and wickedness. Some, such as St. Paul, were even violently opposed to the teachings of Christ, God's beloved Son. From persecutor of the members of Christ's Church to a pillar of that Church is certainly a complete turn about in policy and belief. In other words, St. Paul was certainly no hypocrite. As Alex often pointed out to me, if the Lord could forgive and accept into His heavenly kingdom the murderer and thief hanging on the adjoining cross to Him; if He could forgive and accept into His earthly entourage Mary Magdalene, a woman who was a con-fessed harlot; if He, in His infinite mercy and in His dying agonies could even forgive His murderers, why, then, surely it should not be beyond belief and compre-hension that He could and does accept a modern-day sinner. His Bible constantly reminds us that eternal salvation is ours for the asking. Remember His very words, "Ask and you shall receive." I honestly believe that convicts might ask more often if they had Someone to show or to tell them how. To-day's prisons certainly offer a. fertile field for present-day missionaries. For just as the man or woman dying of pneumonia or a similar infectious disease needs the shot of penicillin more that the ,healthy man does, so does the acknowledged and convicted sinner need the word of God and the comfort and solace that word gives us all. And should any skeptic question the worth of these ¯ sinners and the redeeming of them, I humbly suggest that he read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. + + + VOLUME 29, ~.970 379 FREDERICK A. BENNETT What Makes a Happy (or Unhappy) Nun? Fr. Frederick A. Bennett is intern-ing in clinical psy-chology and lives at St. Therese Rec-tory; 1243 Kingston; Aurora, Colorado 80010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Innumerable books and articles have been written about nuns during the past few years. Yet very little empirical evidence has been brought forth supporting the contentions of the authors. Thousands of nuns have left their communities yet there is a dearth of scientific findings either explaining why these nuns have left or probing the present feelings of those remaining. This study was an attempt to provide a few basic facts relating to psychological factors, particularly happiness, as found today among American nuns. 950 sisters, chosen at random from an original mail-ing list of 35,000 individuals from 91 different active communities across the United States, were mailed a questionnaire in March of 1969. The form used had been tested on a pilot study in late 1968, had under-gone some revision due to findings on that pilot study, and was composed of 54 questions in its final form. Novices and postulants were deliberately excluded. Su-periors, when they could be identified, were replaced by non-superiors in the same convent. The nuns in-volved were guaranteed anonymity both for themselves and for their communities, were told that the results would be made available at least to people in a position to act on the findings, and were then asked for their cooperation. The hoped for cooperation was magnificent. One follow-up letter was mailed and at the conclusion, 853 sisters had returned their questionnaires. This totaled 88% of all possible respondents. The average age of those replying was 4'~ years. The results give a broad cross section of thinking and feelings of pro-fessed American nuns in non-leadership positions. An obvious caution is warranted, however, before considering some of the results. The findings cannot be applied to any individual sister. For example, age is found to correlate highly with happiness. It is dear, however, that this is a generalization. There are happy and unhappy nuns at every age level. But for those who are concerned about th~ future direction of religious life and what must be done on a broad scale to give it the greatest chance of surviving and growing, such generalizations can be of great value. This project falls into a category of psychological studies measuring "avowed happiness" or the happi-ness which a subject claims for himself. Such studies have a long history dating back at least until the 1920s. Recently, however, more extensive work in this area has been carried out through several centers of investigation. Two of the more notable undertakings were those carried out by Gurin and his associates in 19571 and by Bradburn and Caplovitz in 1962.2 The latter concentrated on four small towns in Illinois, two of which were economically depressed, and thus they have a dearly biased sample. Gurin, however, used a nationwide sample of 2460 people "selected by methods of probability sampling to represent all American adults over 21 years of age living in private house-holds." Gurin and associates, Bradburn and Caplovitz, and the present study all asked respondents to note what they considered to be their present level of happiness on a tripartite scale using the classifications of "Very happy," "Pretty happy," or "Not too happy." Despite the simi-larity of responses, however, the results are not ex-actly comparable because of other differences. For example, the replies from the sisters were obtained by mailed questionnaires while the other two projects used personal interviews. Nonetheless, curiosity at least, calls for a comparison of the results of the three studies. Bradburn and Caplovitz (women only) Gurin and associates (women only) Nuns Very happy 23% IPretty happy 60% 50% Not too happy 17% = 100% 12%--- 100% 13% = 100% A comparison of the replies of the subjects of Brad- + burn and Caplovitz in the four small Illinois towns ÷ with the answers of the sisters shows the religious to have both a higher percentage making "Very happy" XG. Gurin, J. Veroff, and S. Feld, Americans View Their Mental Happy Nun? Hea¯lth (New York: Basic Books, 1960). VOLUME 29, 1970 2 N. Bradburn and D. Caplovitz, Reports on Happiness: A Pilot Study o/ Behavior Related to Mental Health (Chicago: Aldine, 1965). 381 replies and a lower percentage giving "Not too happy" responses. As was mentioned above, however, by re-stricting their sample to the four small towns, the atuhors also assured themselves of a biased sample. When the replies of the sisters are compared with the subjects in Gurin's nationwide sample, there is vir-tually no difference in the total responses of the two groups. But a very important difference is found when replies are analyzed by age of respondent. A comparison with Gurin's work by age group shows the following: Gurin (all subjects) Nuns Percentage giving "Very happy" responses Under 35 35-44 45-54 55 and over 40% a~% a4% 27% 31% 31% 36°/o 39°/o ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 382 Gurin (all subjects) Nurl8 Percentage Under 35 giving "Not too happy" responses 35-44 45-54 55 and over 10% 13% 18% 15% ~4% 9% Thus as those who live outside of the convents grow older they show a gradual decrement in "Very happy" responses and an increase of "Not too happy" replies. But for the nuns the trend is in the opposite direction. The nuns who are older tend to have a greater per-centage of their members answering in the "Very happy" category than do younger nuns. Likewise, these older sisters have fewer making "Not too happy" re-sponses. The youngest nuns while claiming less happi-ness than the older nuns also avow less happiness than their age counterparts outside of religious life. One immediate reason that might be advanced for the trend toward greater happiness with advancing age among nuns is that less satisfied members of communi-ties have tended to leave and the more satisfied have tended to remain with the passage of years in religion. This does not seem, however, to account for all of the differences since nuns in the older groups today have lived most of their religious lives in a period when leaving the convent after profession was often the exceptional case. Moreover, the younger groups have already suffered a severe depletion of their ranks and yet the ones who remain are much less happy than those in the older groups. A factor that is considered to contribute to the lessened happiness in older people outside of convents is the loneliness that comes to elderly people through loss of a spouse or breakup of the family. The nuns do not have the problem of widowhood and remain with their communities regardless of their age, This may explain, at least partially, why the older nuns claim greater happiness than older non-nuns. It does not ex-plain, however, the differences between older and younger sisters since both seem to have the same op-portunities to avoid loneliness. But since the degree of loneliness is an important factor in the lives of many, and perhaps most people, a question in the present study was directed toward the investigation of their relative loneliness. The question was phrased as follows: How frequently do you feel lonely? Often __Occasionally __Seldom __Never An analysis of replies to this question uncovered a significant negative correlation between loneliness and the basic question of happiness. Actually, the correla-tion of happiness with loneliness was greater than the correlation of happiness with any other element of the nun's life that was tapped in this study. The basic cor-relation between the two was --.50 which could be expected far less than once in a thousand times simply on the basis of chance alone. The meaning of this correlation is that those who tend to report more frequent instances of loneliness also tend to claim sig-nificantly less happiness for themselves. The question must arise in every correlation as to which is the cause and which is the effect. Thus in the present case, does the loneliness cause the unhappiness, or do those who are unhappy tend to be lonely because they are unhappy? Or is some third factor causing both the loneliness and the unhappiness? Although the ques-tion is insoluble at the present time, one of the sugges-tions that will be made later in this article is based on the premise that loneliness is causing some of the unhappiness and that a major point of concentration should be that of overcoming loneliness. Other significant correlates of happiness were also found. In advance it was hypothesized that three ele-ments would figure prominently in the overall 'happi-ness of nuns. These three can be summarized as inter-personal relations, job satisfaction, and leadership. All were found to be significantly correlated with happiness. Loneliness was considered as pertaining 'to inter-personal relations. But there were also other questions + + + What Makes a Happy Nun? VOLUME 29, 1970 383 pertaining to interpersonal relations that showed a high correlation with happiness. For example, one of the questions asked: Do you feel that the majority of sisters with whom you live really are interested in you as a person? ._____Definitely ___.Probably ~robably not Those who are happier tend to say that they feel that other members of the convent are interested in them as a person and those who are less happy take a dimmer view of the interest of others. In job satisfaction, another highly significant correla-tion with happiness (.34, p. < .001) was found. Those who said they found their job more satisfying also tended to be happier. Leadership was also significantly correlated (.34, p < .001) with happiness. The more favorably the sister rated her superior, the happier she was likely to be. The immediate conclusion is that interpersonal re-lations, job satisfaction, and evaluation of leadership are all significantly related to happiness. But it is most interesting that of the three, leadership and job sati~- faction are less important than interpersonal relation-ships. This is especially worthy of consideration because so much more effort at renewal in many communities seems to be directed toward improving job satisfaction and changing leadership patterns rather than toward improvirig interpersonal relations among the nuns themselves. + ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Leadership An example of leadership modifications is found in communities that have eliminated the local superior. The opportunity to investigate the benefits of this change in leadership role was available in this study since 123 sisters said that they were living in a convent in which there was no local superior. In examining these figures, however, it should be remembered that not having a superior allows for a diversity of ways of being carried out in practice; and no attempt was made to define more exactly what each of the 123 nuns meant when she said that she had no local superior. But taking all those without a superior as one group, no significant difference in happiness was found be-tween those having a superior and those not having one. There was actually a slight tendency for those with a superior to claim greater happiness than those without a superior but this may have been merely a chance happening that would be reversed on another sample. The following are the percentage of responses in both groups: Have a superior Do not have a superior Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy 37% 49% 14%-- 100% 32% ~4% ~4% = ioo% Therefore it appears that simply not having a superior does not necessarily improve chances for happiness among members of the community. Sisters who had a local superior were asked to rate their superior in the following question: How do you evaluate the job of leadership being done by your present local superior? __.Excellent ~_Fair ~.Poor __.Very poor An interesting comparison appears when those who do not have a superior are matched with those rating their superior either high or low. Sisters rating superior good/excellent Sisters rating superior poor/very poor No superior Very happy ~6% 23% 32% Pretty happy 46% Not too happy 8% = 1oo% 33% := 100% i4% = 100% Thus being without a local superior is not as favor-able as having a good superior but is preferable to hav-ing a superior whom the subject feels is doing a poor job. Another area that is of importance today in the question of leadership is that some local communities are able to choose their superior in contrast to the former policy of having all superiors appointed either by the major superior or by vote of the chapter. In this study 82 nuns said that they had been allowed to select their own superior. For this group the following percentages were found: Very happy Pretty happy Not too happy Chose their own 50% 40% 10% = 100% superior ÷ ÷ 4. What Malws a These figures indicate that being able to elect a VOLO~E mo ~gro superior is a very desirable arrangement. Gomparing $85 these figures with those given above for sisters rating their superior as good or excellent, the groups are very similar in their avowals of happiness. Consequently it seems preferable to elect a superior rather than to eliminate her altogether. Election is also, of course, far preferable to having a poor superior imposed from above. + + F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 Departures Sisters have been leaving in substantial numbers dur-ing recent years. To determine the unrest that still re-mains in the convents the following question was asked: During the past six months, which of the following would describe feelings or thoughts you have had about leaving religious life? (60%) I have not considered leaving (23%) I have considered leaving but not seriously (10%) I have seriously considered leaving but have de-cided against it (5%) I have seriously considered leaving and may do so (2%) I will probably leave 100% (The percentage of sisters responding in each way is noted in parentheses before each response.) Although the majority of nuns have not considered leaving during the past six months, a substantial minor-ity of 40% have at least had the idea of leaving enter their minds during that period. Moreover, 17% have seriously considered such a possibility. Thus, although only 7% were still seriously considering leaving when this study was conducted, there is a large group that is somewhat shaky and it is not unlikely that many of this group will again have the idea of departing enter their minds. In addition those who do actually leave will probably intensify thoughts of leaving in others and may induce such thoughts in some of those who have not considered it. It appears, therefore, under this inter-pretation of the figures that the exodus from convents is far from completed unless very drastic changes come about in the thinking of present members. When thoughts of leaving are analyzed by age of respondent, very important differences are again noted. The percentages in each age group are on p. 387. As would be expected, the younger groups are much more likely to be thinking of leaving than are the older nuns. But the extent of the differences between the groups is rather surprising. It is especially important that 73% of the youngest group has considered leaving and 40% have seriously considered it. Thus those who will be leaving will usually be the ones who formerly would be carrying the hopes for religious life in the Have not considered leaving Considered but not seri-ously Seriously considered leav-ing May leave Probably will leave Under 28 ] 27% 33% 10% 100% 28-34 43% 15% 7% lOO% 35-44 57% 25% 8% 8% 2% 100% 4~-55 66% 5% 100% Over 55 89% 4% 0% 0% 1oo% future. A further comment on the ramifications of this will be made later in this article. Other Findings Religious life is directed in large measure toward supernatural and eternal goals. The question arises whether remaining in religious life is dependent on present happiness. There was another highly significant correlation of .47 between happiness and the tendency to remain. This strongly suggests that they are related. Regardless, therefore, of how religious life may have been viewed by spiritual writers in the past, in today's convents present happiness is of importance. The nuns who are less happy are generally the ones who are doing the most thinking about leaving. Religious life cannot be divorced from the spiritual activities of the sisters. But in trying to analyze the influence of spirituality, many very obvious and perhaps insoluble problems arise. Because of these difficulties a very simple question was asked. This question did not attempt to assess the influence that the spirituaI ac-tivities have. It merely inquired about the satisfac-tion that the sister receives. The question was phrased in this manner: How would you describe your usual feelings about the daily spiritual exercises that you are expected to perform? __.I find them very satisfying .I find them somewhat satisfying __.I get little human satisfaction from them Another significant correlation was found with hap-piness. Those who are happier tend to receive greater ÷ satisfaction from their spiritual exercises. But here ÷ especially, the relationship of cause and effect is blurred. ÷ Such a finding could signify that because the sisters are What Makes a happier they thereby tend to be more satisfied with Happy Nun? their spirituality. But it could also signify that because the sister receives greater satisfaction from her formal VOLUME 29, 1970 praying, she thereby tends to be happier. Or again, a 387 ÷ ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~388 third and unknown factor may well be present which is influencing both happiness and satisfaction from spirit-ual exercises. Much research iri past years in social psychology has been devoted to the ideal size of various types of groups. Generally, the best size is found to be less than 12. It was therefore somewhat surprising to find that the number of people residing in the convent in which the sister lives had little effect on her happiness. There were similar reports of happy and unhappy sisters in all sizes of convents. Size was related, however, to some other aspects of the sisters' lives. For example, signifi-cantly more indications of jealousy were found in the largest convents. Conclusions Religious life as we know it seems to be headed for more rough days ahead. Unrest among the nuns is far from terminated. With 40% of the sisters saying that they have at least considered the possibility of leaving their communities within the previous six months, ~many more departures can be anticipated. Moreover, the thoughts of leaving are heavily con-centrated among the younger age groups. When this factor is combined with the importance of interpersonal relationships among the nuns, another disturbing pre-dicament becomes apparent. The younger members are tending to leave more rapidly than the older; if this trend continues, the average age of members of the communities will advance. New young members enter-ing the community in the future will find it all the more difficult to find convents when they go on mission that are staffed by nuns of their own age. A consequence would seem to be that these young nuns of the future will have even greater difficulty in establishing close relationships with other nuns and therefore the chances for loneliness will increase. It is certainly possible and often happens that a young nun finds companionship and meaningful re-lationships with older nuns. But it is more likely for the young nun to find that necessary companionship among nuns of her own age level. Again, this study was not related only to individuals as such, many of whom will go contrary to the findings of this work. Rather the concern was with the overall conditions of religious life. Here it can be said that as the average age of sisters increases, a larger proportion of young nuns will likely find it increasingly difficult to overcome the loneliness that is probably causing some present problems. A personal anecdote may be appropriate here. I re- cently had contact with a large community of contem-plative nuns in which the youngest member had already celebrated her silver jubilee in the community. This convent had not been able to retain the few novices or postulants that had been with them in recent years. Moreover, it would seem to me to be a minor miracle if any young women could be found to enter and re-main in a convent where they would have to bear with such a wide disparity of age. Fortunately such cases are not common today; but unless solutions can be found, it seems likely that other communities, both active and contemplative, may experience somewhat similar difficulties in the coming decades. Further evidence for the stumbling blocks that wide age discrepancies can pose for religious life comes from one of the open-ended questions that were included in the questionnaire. The nuns were asked what they found to be the least satisfying or most discouraging aspect of their life as a religious. The differences be-tween the age groups were striking. For example, a 59 year old nun answered: "The frustration with some younger members." A 30 year old sister said: "Judgmental attitudes of older sisters toward myself." A 73 year old sister pinpointed the age gap saying: "The lack of close communication between the much older sister and the New Modern Sister." Perhaps the split between the generations was most apparent in the attitudes toward change. Frequently the older nuns were most disturbed by what seemed to them to be excesses and the younger were distressed by what they considered to be the hesitancy of some members to change. This was not universal, however, as a few of the older came out with high praise" for the changes but these latter were the exceptions. In general, the generation gap was clear. But as important as age is in laying a foundation for compatibility among sisters, similar age does not insure good interpersonal relations. There are other elements involved in coming to an understanding and meaning-ful relationship with another person or persons. Many psychological, intellectual, and emotional factors are involved. Outside of religious life, freedom of the in-dividuals to choose the companions they wish to have takes account of some of these factors. Freedom to choose one's own companions has never been considered feasible in religious life until very re-cently when it has been tried in a few communities. There was no opportunity in this study to test the value of such a procedure. But an indication of the possible advantages of this arrangement may be inferred fi:om the decided advantage noted of being able to select What ~l~l~e~ a Happy Nun? VOLUME 2% 1970 389 ÷ ÷ F. A. Bennett REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 one's own superior. This latter also was not considered feasible until very recent years. With all of the inherent problems involved in being able to select the ones that the sister wishes to live and work with, further con-sideration of such a possibility seems warranted. Additional training in the development of interper-sonal relationships during the novitiate and juniorate may also prove advantageous. Some communities have used sensitivity training and T-groups for this purpose. Unfortunately, there is again no empirical evidence to base a sound judgment upon as to the advantages of such training. But in view of the problems connected with interpersonal relationships within the convents, such training merits consideration and research. Decreasing loneliness among the sisters is not solely dependent upon interpersonal relationships within the convent itself. Nonetheless, community life should be a basic bulwark against loneliness. As of now, however, community life is sometimes [ailing to accomplish this. The findings of this study, however, were not com-pletely negative. There was strong evidence that loneli-ness is not an inherent part of religious life. Not a few of the nuns recounted their experiences in having deep friendships with other sisters as one of the great plus values of religious life. In response to the question: "What do you consider the most satisfying aspect of your life as a religious?" a 34 year old sister replied: "The sisters I live with at the present time." A 64 year old sister replied to the same question saying succinctly: "The sisters." "Community living; the spirit of our com-munity (friendliness and joy)," was the response of a 28 year old nurse. A 39 year old teacher answered that it was "living with sisters who are interested in me as a person," while a 53 year old sister cited "the possibility [or personal fulfillment found in community living" as the most satisfying part of her religious life. It is obvious from these responses that loneliness does not have to accompany religious life. But it has also been shown above that community life does not insure that loneliness will not be present. In summation it can be said that new approaches to interpersonal relationships are needed. The gravity of this need is brought into focus by the distinct possibility that the whole question could become academic. With 70% of the youngest group already considering leav-ing the trend could conceivably be against the continued existence of present type congregations. Reversal of such a trend is not impossible but will take much concen-trated effort. LOUIS TOMAINO The Sister as an Agent oJ.Change As Warren Bennis and his colleagues have suggested, radical change is the one constant which seems to char-acterize this age.1 It seems clear that change is occurring in both the church and in religious orders of women. Sisters are all too familiar with problems of change for they are confronted with the problem of trying to bring about meaningful change in their congregations. They have the task of sorting out planned change from ac-cidental change so that only the more constructive as-pects of the process may be realized and the sisters helped to find more satisfying levels of community existence. Change in this instance may be the basic con-dition for the freedom without which religious life might well become increasingly difficult and unreward-ing; yet, from the standpoint of short range needs, it is often more comfortable for individual sisters not to change. The reluctance of an individual to give up old ways of doing things is understandable when one con-siders the meanings change may have for those who face it. : Out of the many things which could be said about sisters and change, we have selected the idea that sister is an "agent of change" in her own community. If this is true, it might also be added that, in general, she plays the same role in the Church itself and in her apostolate. In the past two years, we have held group dynamics workshops with over 1000 sisters from various congrega-tions during which time we have stressed the change agent concept. In their case, the issue no longer seems to be whether change should occur, but rather, what change is to be encouraged and how might it be facili-tated? This paper reports on some things which char-acterize sisters and change. 1 Warren G. Bennis, Kenneth D. Benne, and Robert Chin, The Planning of Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962). Louis Tomaino is the acting direc-tor of Worden School of Social Services; Our Lady of the Lake College; San Antonio, Texas 782O7. VOLUME 29, 1970 391 Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, two inventive be-havioral scientists, conceptualized a model called the managerial gridS which unified their lengthy study of management and organizational structures. This model proved highly successful in understanding the manage° rial process and helped .develop new techniques in management. Jay Hall and Martha Williams, social psychologists at the Southwest Center for Law and the Behavioral Sciences and former students of Blake and Mouton, utilized the grid concept with an instrument called the change grid. This grid was extremely valuable in workshops with the 1000 sisters. Sisters who are interested in meaningful community change might be expected to have some concerns about the quality of the change. These concerns provide the basic grid dimensions and are expressive of the sisters' thoughts. These are the concern for conformity (that members adhere to community norms) and the concern for commitment (that members truly internalize com-munity norms). Put another way, this says that sisters should comply with what the community expects but do so because they really accept and value those expectations. These dual concerns will affect the kind of change strategies a sister would utilize in her community. The two concerns are thought of as being independ-ent of each other. The sister may fuse them in some way in her relations with other community members but the concerns appear thusly in the beginning: C 0 M MITME NT (The complete grid appears on the following page) Loui~ 2"omai.o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CONFORMITY Different sisters impute varying strengths to these con-cerns. Those who perceive themselves as "traditional-ists" may exhibit more conformity interests, while those who view themselves as "progressives" might prefer commitment concerns in their approaches to change. So ~ Robert Blake and Jane Mouton, The Managerial Grid (Hous-ton: Gulf Publishing Co., 1964). that we might consider "how much" concern sisters manifest, each axis is scaled from 1 to 9. The value 1 will mean "low concern for" while the unit 9 will de-note "high concern for." Three methods of securing change assume that the concerns for conformity and commitment are in con-flict-- that communities cannot hope to insure both ends and must thereby choose one over the other. These methods (reading grid fashion, fight and up) are the 9/1, 1/9, and I/1 approaches. High THE CHANGE GRID ~/9 Ptrson-~Tentsred Clu~ng~t : There is a natural trend toward personal growth once an individual is free to accept himself. The task of the change agent is to help the person accept his strengths and weaknesses without the judgmental pressures of othersD values being in-troduccd. Then he will be able to accept both society and its values. 9/9 C~ang¢ ola CndiMli~y : Since behavior is learned, it may b~ modified through relearning. The change agent's task is one of creating conditions under which people can learn the consequences of current behavior and explore the feasibility of new behavior~ in realistic settings. Reality testing resalts in conformity based on commitment. Low Charismatic ~hangt : People accept suggestions only from people they can respect. The change agent must be "one of the guys" ff he is to gain enough prestige to influence. Changees will copy his behavior to win his respect and will then learn it is better. ~ustodial No one person can really change another. People only conform or fail to conform if they want to. The task of the change agent nccessarily is one of apprising the changce of the rules and then leaving it up to him to decide whether he wants to follow them and stay out of t~ouble or break them and suffer the conse-quences. At the same time, the change agent must keep those in authority informed as to how the changee is behaving. 9/t C~angt Via C~mplianrt: It may not be possible to change a personDs attitude, but one can change his behavior if he makes it elear what is expected of the changcc and what can happen if the changee fa~ls to conform. The change agent's taak is to transmit this information dearly and then to follow up by keeping "tabs'~ on the changee to see that he con-forms and knows that the change agent means business. 4 5 6 7 8 9 High Coastrn for Conformity The 9/1 .4pproach--Change through Compliance The lower right hand corner of the grid tells of that change strategy which is maximally concerned for con-fortuity and minimally concerned for commitment. This sister decides that community members cannot do both Agent oJ Change vo~u~ 2,, ~97o 393 Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~9~ so it is better to use one approach and make it work. The 9/1 sister will likely express her philosophy in this manner: It's been my experience that people do things only when they have to. A lot of the time sisters can't possibly agree with the way the Church says they have to conduct themselves, but they have to nevertheless., or suffer the consequences. Once a per-son realizes this, he makes it easier on himself and everybody else. I think change can best be brought about by spelling out what is expected of a person and what provisions exist for dealing with him when he doesn't conform. My job, as an agent of change, is to work with persons closely and see that they follow the letter of the law so that their behavior is acceptable and in accordance with general values o£ the Church. The 9/1 strategy does bring about change in many instances. The thing communities need to be aware of is some of the consequences which this approach pro-duces in others. Such responses as fear, rebellion, re-sentment, and hostility are byproducts in others of the 9/1 stance. Such psychological outcomes are unfavor-able for effecting change in the people who have those feelings. Under this system the community must be run as a "tight ship" with few democratic overtones. Indeed, for many years religious communities functioned as 9/1 organizations. Some still do. However, other 9/1 systems like the military and the police have begun to change albeit imperceptibly. With the advent of Vatican II, religious orders have also witnessed a trend away from compliance oriented styles of management. It used to be that sisters' behaviors could be regulated under con-ditions allowing little deviation from specified require-ments, and that by this fait accompli effect sisters would eventually acquire commitment. This "legalized" ap-proach to change does not seem a very satisfactory method for inducing long term commitment. The 1/9.4pproach--Person-cente~ed Change The person-centered strategy represented in the upper left grid corner assumes that people want to gain the values of the congregation and will gravitate toward that end when they are "freed" to do so. Concerns for conformity are rejected as antithetical to free choice. Person-centered change is designed to help the sister ac-cept her own shortcomings as a means of finding herself in her community and accepting others as well. Trust and appreciation are central to this relationship and concerns for conformity are seen as "getting in the way" of real commitment. This sister would likely perceive matters as follows: Basically people want to live good lives and get along well in their communities, but many of them just don't knowhow. Too many people have never had the opportunity to get to know themselves and, consequently, they can't really accept themselves or other people. I think the job of an agent of change is to work closely with people so that they can first learn to accept themselves as genuinely important human be-ings. Then they will be able to accept and appreciate others as well and will feel worthy of the religious life. Once a person has gotten rid of his own self doubts, he will naturally begin to grow and seek out the solid values of his congregation. The job of the change agent is one of helping people find self-ac-ceptance and freedom of expression, on the basis of which real growth can occur." The 1/1 Approach--Laissez Faire Change CustodiaI change as depicted in the lower left-hand corner of the grid presumes that individuals are autoge-nous and change or fail to do so as a result of their own desires. This really is not a change strategy but more a reflection of the change agent's unique perception of his own role. These sisters believe in "the way we have always done things" and think that change is up to other persons. Her philosophy would read like this: I believe that in the long run it is impossible for one person to really change another. Human nature is the strongest determinant of behavior and some people are just naturally better than others. It seems to me that the best thing for an agent of change to do is to spell out the rules for people as clearly as he can and then let them make their own choice as to whether they are going to follow them or not. Where there are clear rules, there are also pretty clear consequences spelled out for any failure to conform. People are pretty much their own bosses and it isn't realistic for any one person to try to change them. At best, a change agent is a representative of his community who hopes and prays that others will obey. In the end this way of thinking will promote "don't rock the boat" values, and terminate in "rut." Idealistic 1/9 type candidates who enter the 9/I congregations might well end up making 1/1 adjustments, Psychic en-ergy gets diverted to secondary external matters such as housecleaning, posturing, gestures,, and various other correctness models. Under these conditions communities may appear to function smoothly because everything seems to be in order. Underlying this facade, however, is a profile of non-involvement by community members with each other and, sometimes, an apparently perfunc-tory apostolic performance. The 5/5 Approach--Charismatic Change In the grid center we find a 5/5 strategy which says that the sister must have concern for both conformity and commitment. However, this approach also states that the more concern exhibited for one means less for the other. In effect, this sister goes half way with both concerns. She seeks to gain the respect and affection of Agent o~ Change V0LU~E 29, 197o 395 Louis To'malne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 others and utilizes this commitment to herself as a per-son to bring about change in others. Her philosophy is expressed along these lines: I think people basically resent being told what to do or what is expected of them by other people who don't really understand their problems or have had no experience in com-mon with them. I think the agent of change has to be a person who understands the situation of the people he is trying to change so that they will respect his judgment. The best way to bring about change is to first convince people that you are "one of them" and then set the exam.pie. When a person sees someone he respects and can trust acting a certain way, he will usually try to act the same way simply because he respects that person and wants to be respected by him in turn. This is a hard but effective way of bringing about change and the agent of change has to be sincere and willing to really give of his time. Change through 5/5 dynamics can be very effective. Its implementation is difficult because it requires a highly
Issue 15.5 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; Our New Business , ddress When we were preparing to publish the REVIEW, we arranged to have the College Press, in Topeka, do the printing and distribut-ing. For fifteen years the editors and the College Press have worked together in the closest h.armony. We have literally shared both heart'- 'aches and °joys. The heartaches were',mostly brought about by the difficulties of the war years: for example, as we published each num-ber we wondered how we would get enough paper for printing the next. The jo~,s consiste,d, am6ng other things, in getting the REVIEW out regularly and on time, despite the difficulties, and in the realiza-tion that this new apostolate for religious seemed to be appreciated. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to REVIEW FOR REL~IGIOUS 3115 South Grand Boulevard St. Louis 18, Missouri This is our new business address During all these fifteen years, Mr. 3. W. O,rr, owner of the Col-lege Press, and his assistants, have given the REVIEW the best they had: and that was very good, indeed. But the time has come when we must make new publishing arrangements. The reason for this is purely an "act of God," as far as both the editors and the College Press are concerned. There has been no break in the harmony that has always characterized our collaboration. Fortunately for us, the publishing department of the Queen's Work has agreed to take over the publication of the REVIEW. Be-ginning with the next volume, the REVIEW will be printed and dis-tributed by the Queen's Work. Obviously, the new publishers can-not wait till the last deadline to begin making addresses and keeping records. For this reason, please note the announcement in the c~nter of this page and follow it exactly. The editors are deeply grateful to the College Press for past col-. laboration and to the Queen'~ Work for taking over the burden. 225 I=xclaus!:rat:ion and Seculariza!:ion Joseph F.°Gallen, S.J. I. EXCLAUSTRATION , 1. Definition. Aft indult of exclaustration is the permission to remain temporarily outside one's religious institute apart from obedi-ence, dependence, and vigilance of religious superiors either for a determined period of time or for the duration of the reason for which the indult was granted. The religious requests the indult and is not obliged to use it afterit has been granted. The petition is made throu~gh religious, superiors. Canon law does not demand the con-sent of superiors, but it is the practice of the Holy See to grant no indult to religious without having considered the opinion of superiors nor generally without their consent. It is difficult to obtain an in-dult of exclaustration from the Holy See when superiors are opposed. The Holy See d~cides whether the opposition of superiors is unreas-onable or unjust.1 The petition therefore should be accompanied by the opinion of the superior general, substantiated by pertinent reasons and facts, as to whether the indult should be granted. Local ordin-aries follow the same practice in granting indults of exclaustration to members of diocesan congregations. Exclaustration differs from a me/e absence outside any house of one's institute (c. 606, § 2), es-sentially because in a simple absence the religious remains subject to the obedience and vigilance of superiors. Authors commonly assert that the Holy See does not grant an in-dult of exclaustration to priests unless the petition'is accompanied by the attestation of a local ordinary that he will permit the priest to reside in his diocese during the exclaustration and at least to say Mass. ~ 2. Competent authority forexclaustration and secularization (c. 638). The competent authority is,the same for both exclaus-tration and secularization. In pontifical institutes~ whether orders or congregations', only the Holy See can grant such an indult. Either the Holy See or the local ordinary is competent for members of dio-cesan congregations, but in practice the indult is obtained from the latter. The competent local ordinary is the ordinary of the place where the religious is staying. The ordinary of the mother house is 1. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, II, 124-25 2. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 1536, 5. 226 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULA.RIZATION competent only for religious staying within his diocese, not for those staying in. other dioceses.3 The competent ordinary therefore is the ordinary of the domicile or quasi-domicile of the religious, even if the latter is Outside either diocese at the time the indult is granted. A religious has a domicile in the diocese of the house to which he is assigned, a quasi-domicile in a diocese where he has licitly resided for the greater part of a year or has been or.dered to reside for the greater part of a year. The ordinary of the licit actual and real resi-' dence of a religious is also competent as long as such residence con-tinues and'the religious is within his diocese, i. e., of a diocese in which the religious has licitly resided for a week or at-, least for several days, since a place where one is staying is not confined in canon law to a domicile or quasi-domicile,4 An ordinary is probably competent with regard to any diocesan religious who is .actually licitly in his diocese at the moment the indult is granted, even if only momentarily and without any regard to the length of the stay, since this also is at least probably a canonical meaning of the place where one is staying.6 The apostolic delegate, possesses the following faculty for nuns: "To allow nuns in case of sickness or for other just and grave rea- ~sons to live outside the religious house for a time to be fixed at his prudent discretion, on condition, however, that they shal~ always have the association and assistance of their relatives by blood or mar-riage or of some other, respectable~woman, that they shall live at home and elsewhere a religious life free 'from the society of men, becomes virgins consecrated to God, and without prejudice to the prescription of canon 639.''~ 3. Sufficient reasons for exclaustration (c. 639). Since common life and subjection to superiors are highly essential elements of the religious state, serious and exceptional reasons are required for the granting of this indult. Those commonly given are a business un-dertaking, care of personal health, and care or support of one's par-ents when these things cannot be accomplished b~ a simple absence from the institute according to ~; 606, § 2~ Other reasons of equal or greater import will suffice. 4. Effects of an indult of exclaustration (c. 639). The effects 3. Code Comm., July 24, 1939; Bouscaren, Canon Law Di~est. II, 173. 4. CL'cc. 94, §§ 2-3; 162, § 1; 620: 1023, § 3; 1039, § 1: 1097, § 1, ~.2": 1563: 1787, § 1; 2385. 5. Cf. c. 94, §§ 2-3: Regatillo, lnterpretatio et lurisprudentia Codicis luris Canonici, 244-45: Michiels, Principia Generalia de Personis in Ecclesia, 210- 11 : 119: Normae Generales luris Canonici, II, 729-36. 6. Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 184; Vermeersch, Periodica, 12 (1924), 145-46. 227 JosEp~-I F. GRLLEN Reoieto for Religious are always the same, whether the indult is granted by the Holy See or a local ordinary. The latter cannot determine the effects of an indult granted by himself, since these are determined by c. 639. The exclaustrated religious remains a religious and a member of hi~ in-stitute. Therefore, he is free of no obligations and loses no rights except those expressly stated in law. The obligation of the vows continues during exclaustration. The obligation of chastity remains undhanged. Instead of being subject to the superiors of his institute, the exclaustrated religious is now subject, also in virtue of the vow of obedience, to the ordinary of the dibcese in which he is staying. The cession of the admihistration, disposition of the use and usufruct, and will that he had made in religion all remain in effect. Exclaus-tration does not change the norms for acquiring property, and the religious acquires property for the institute and for himself in the same way that he would if he were not exclaustrated. He is given implicit permission by the indult itself to acquire, administer, and use temporal goods insofar as these are necessary for his becoming sustenance and the purpose of the indult, e. g., the support of parents. He is obliged to avoid all superfluous expenses. The institute has no obligation from justice to support an exclaustrated religious but shbuld do so from charity insofar as he is hnable to support himself.7 The exclaustrated religious is held to all other obligations, i. e., the laws of the code on religious, the obligations of the Rule, con-stitutions, customs,, ordinances, and regulations of his institute in-sofar as these are compatible with his present state. He is therefore not held to incompatible obligations, which in general are those that depend on common life, e. g., silence, attendance at common exer-cises, inspection of correspondence. Compatible obligations, to which he is held, are, e. g., mental prayer, private recitation of the office, hearing of Mass, ~requenting the sacrament of penance, recitation of the rosary, examen of conscience, other prayers that can be said pri-vately, fast, and abstinence. He must put off the religious habit but may continue to wear any undergarments that appertain to the habit and the small habit, called the scapular, worn under the clothing by the tertiaries of some religious orders. Exclaustrated priests and clerics wear the dress of the diocesan clergy. For special reasons the local ordinary may permit an exclaustrated religious of a diocesan 7. Cf. Guti~rrez, Commentarlum Pro Religiosis, 36 (1955), 375; Schaefer, op. cit., n. 1535; Goyeneche, De Relioiosis, 196, note 19; Coronata, lnstitutiones luris Canonici, I, 840, note 4; Chdodi-Ciprotti, lus Canot~icura de Personis, n. 286; Berutti, De Religiosis, 327. 228 Seprernber, 1956 EXCLAUSTRATION ,AND SECULARIZATION congegation to wear the habit,s The Holy See, of course, may grant the same permission to a religious of a pontifical or diocesan insti-tute. The Holy See grants this permission when no scandal will ens,ue and provided the superior of the institute approves the request, espe-cially when the reason for the exclaustration is not caused by the re-ligious himself.9 During exclaustration the religious possesses neither active nor passive voice. He retains the merely spiritual privileges of his institute, e. g., indulgences. He follows the calendar and rite of his {nstitute in the recitation of the office and the same rite in saying Mass. He retains the privileged confessional faculties of his institute as also those of blessing objects. Heo is not deprived, of suffrages if he should die during exclaus~ration, since no law of the code divests him of this right acquired by profession.19 5, Return to the institute. Whe~i the definite time for which the indult was granted has expired or the reason for which it was given has ceased, the religious is ~o return without delay to his institute, unless an extension of the indult has been obtained from the'com-petent authority. The religious has the rights, to ret'urn before the expiration of the indult, and the institute is Obliged to receive him back. For just reasons his ,religious superiors may also recall him to the institute before the expiration of the indult. 6. Imposed exclaustration. A new form of exclaustration, not contained in the code, has been introduced in the recent practice of the Holy See. It is usually granted on the petition of superiors, whether the subject consents, .is opposed, or indifferent. The essen-tial characteristic of, this exclaustration is that it is imposed, is of obligation, is a precept of dwelling outside the institute. The rea-son is f.requently the good of the community, i. e., the conduct of the religious is a source of serious harm to the institute. Often the good of the subject also is intended, i. e., for his own good' the re-ligious sbould be e~claustrated. Typically specific cases are those of religious who are notably deficient in observance or obedience, who undermine and mi~chinate against government, and very difficult characters who do not merit dismissal but seriously disturb the p~ace of the community. These cases are stated to be of more frequent occurrence in institutes of women. Such reasons are often accom-panied by physical or mental maladies. The state of the religious in 8. Code Comm., Nov. 12, 1922; Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 326-27. 9. Larraona. Acta et Documenta Congressus lnternationalis 8uperiorissarum Gen-eraliurn, 265. 10. Creusen, Religious Men and Wom, en in the Codb, n. 334. 229 JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN Reolew for Religious imposed exclaustration is the same,as in 'the ordinary or voluntary exclaustration, but he may be placed under the vigilance of the local ordinary or his own religious superiors. The religious is obliged to work for his own support, but in this case the institute has a greater obligation i~n charity to support him insofar as he cannot do so him-self. Imposed exclaustration is not prescribed for any definite period of time, but it is not perpetual. It lasts as ldng as the.reasons and purpose persist in the judgment of the S. Congregation of Religious, and the rehg~ous may return and be receN:ed back into the institute only with the permission of the S. Congregation. A clerical religious in sacr,ed orders wh~ is to be exclaustrated in this manner may be received by a bishop but without any intention of future incardination. In this case the religious is in the same state as that of ordinary exclaustration. He is under the authority of the bishop, also in virtue of the vow of obedience, and he exercises the ministry under the authority of the bishop. Such a clerical religious may not have a bishop who is willing to receive him, but another ecclesiastical authority, e. g., a.religious superior of another institute, is willing to be answerable to the Holy See for at least his priest!y life. The religious is then permitted to say Mass in the religious or pious house under the responsibility of this superior. He remains under the authority~and vigilance of his own religious superiors. If ¯ neither a bishop nor other ecclesiastical authority is had, the Holy See does not ilnpose exclaustration on such a c]'erical religious except in a case of absolute necessity. If it is imposed, the exercise of any order or sacred ministry is fbrbidden; and the religious is under his own superiors with regard to his Christian, clerical, and religious life~n II. S~CULARIZATION 7. Definition and competent autboritO (cc. ,638, 640). Secu-larization is a departure from religion by which a subject is separ-ated completely and perpetually from all membership in his .institute and is freed completely and perpetually of all obligations and loses all rights that h~ve their source in religious profession. By seculari-zation the religious ceases to be a religious. Since secularization dis-penses from all the vows of religious profes~sion, even if solemn, i( is commonly called a dispensation from the vows of religion. The competent authority for an indult of secularization is the same as for exclaustration, as explained in n. 2. ~ 11. Guti~rrez, op. cit., 32 (1953), 336-39~; Larraona, op. cir., "266. 230 September, 1956. EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION 8. Sufficient reasons. Very serious' reasons~are required for secu-larization, and the ecclesiastical authority competent to grant the indult is the judge of their sufficiency. There must be a reason over and above the mere desire to'leave religion. The ir~dult is granted because of the motive of the request, not merely because it is requested. The most common reaso~ is that the religious finds the religious life morally impossible or too difficult, even if this state arises from culp-able causes that he will not correct, The difficulty may have its source °in the vow of chastity, obedience, or poverty, the common life, work, or general life of the institute. A reason insufficient in itself may become sufficient when the mental state of the religious that be will not correct is taken into account, e. g., if his desire to leave makes him useless or a source of harm i:o the institute. Other reasons of equal or greater import will suffice, ~. g., lack of suitability for the work of the institute, ill health, mental depression, necessary support of parent.s, and the case of those who are counselled to leave because otherwise the institute will initiate their dismissal. 9. Petition. The religious himself asks for the indult of seculari-zation, since it is a voluntary leaving of religion. He is to write out or at least sign his request, stating his name in religion and in the world, name of his institute, his present address, age, number of years in religion, of what vows he is professed and for how ,long, what orders he has received, that i~e requests an indult of seculariza-tion, all the reasons, and the date. The institute should retain a copy of this petition. The petition should be forwarded to the competent authority ordinarily through the superior general or at least through a higher superior. All the statements above (n. I) on the necessity of the consent of superiors for exclaustration apply here also. The higher superior should enclose a letter with the petition giving all in-formation pertinent to the case ;~nd his own opinion as to whether the religious should leave, substantiatin~ the latter with all reasons and facts that he may know. 10. Acceptance and refusal of indult. (a) Acceptance. When the indult of secularization is received, it should be communicated to the religious; and he should manifest his acceptance of it. "Any instruc-tions on the manner of acceptance contained in the indult are.to be followed. Otherwise, it is ,sufficient that the religious manifest his acceptance by any external s, ign that expresses acceptance. It is better for the acceptance to" be manifested in writing and before two wit-nesses. The following or a similar statement should be written or typed: "I attest that I today accepted, an .indult of secularization 231 JOSEPH 1~. GALEEN from the Order (Congregation)~ of N." The statement should con-tain mention of the place and date. It is to be signed by the recipient before the two witnesses, who are themselves to sign the acceptance as witnesses. The document is to be preserved in the files of the in-stitute. It would be well also for the higher superi'or, personally or through another, to give the secularized ex-religious a written and signed statement on the stationery of the institute to the effect that he had received and accepted an indult of secularization and .accordingly left religion free of all obligations of the religious life. The place-and date are to be mentioned also on this statement. (b) Acceptance and immediate repentance. An indult of seculari-zation produces all its effects immediately upon its acceptance, even if the former religious repents instantly and before leaving the house.12 (c) Refusal. Secularization, even though voluntarily petitioned, has no effect.until accepted; and the religious may refuse to accept the indult.13 If the institute, whether pontifical or diocesan, has serious reasons against the refusal these are to be proposed to the S. Congregation of Religious, which could oblige the religious to accept the [ndult or declare [hat the indult has its effect without ac-ceptance, thus making it equivalent to a form of dismissal.14 The formalities described above for an acceptance should also be followed for a refusal of the-indult. (d) Later useJof a refused indult. If the religious definitively fused the indult and later wishes to leave, a new indult must be pe-titioned. 'If, all things considered, 'the refusal was only doubtful, hesitant, not definitive, the indult is suspended and may be used later. If it is not accepted nor definitively refused within six months, the matter is to be referred tO the ecclesiastical authority that issued the indult.~ (e) Present practice of the Holt¢ See. Indults of secularization granted by the Holy See, for those who are not priests now contain the sentence: "This decree ceases to have any validity if hot'accepted by" the petitioner within ten days after being informed of the execu-torial decree." If within ten days: (1) the indult is expressly ac- 12. Cf.'Guti~trez, o/9. cir., 32 (1953), 194: Creusen, o/9. cit.,'n. 332, 3; Fan-fani, De lure Religiosocaro, n. 490. 13. S. C. of Religious, Aug. I, 1922; Bouscaren, ol9. dr., I, 326. 14. Ci:. Maroto, Commentari,,m Pro Religiosis, 4 (1923), 106. 15. Cf. Goyeneehe, Quaestiones Canonlcae, II, 126-27; Guti~rrez, o/9. cir., 32 (1953), 194-95: Jombart, Tcaitd de Dcoit Canonique, I, n. 907; Muzzarelli, Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibas luris Dioecesani, 172: Jone, Cora-raeotarium in Codicem laris Canon.&[, I, 563; de Bonhome, Ret~ue des com-munautds Religieuses, 26 (1954), 47, 232 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION cepted, it becomes effective immediately; (2) the indult is neither accepted nor definitively refused, it ceases'to have any validity at the end of this period;~ (3) the indult is definitively refused, all validity of the indult ceases on this definitive refusal. A new indult is to be petitioned if the religious repents of his refusal and wishes again to leave, even during the ten-d.ay period. The practice of the'.Holy See is not to grant the indult directly to'the religious but to commit to an intermediary person, e~ g.; the local ordinary, the granting of the indult to the religious. The actual granting of the indult by this intermediary is called the executorial decree. The ten days begin to run from the time the ~eligious is offi-cially notified of the executorial decree, not from the date of notifi-cation of the rescript of the Holy See. The day of notification, is not computed. If the notification is given on August 1, the ten days expire at midnight of August 11-12. This time does not run for any period in which the religious was ignorant of or unable to ex-ercise his right of acceptance and refusal.l~ 11. Effects of an inctult of secularization (c. 640). The effects are always the same, whether the indult is granted by the Holy See or ~a local ordinary~ The latter cannot determine the effects of an indult granted by himself, since these are determined by c. 640. One who has been secularized ceases simply and absolutely to be a r& ligious. He is in the same state as if he had never been a religious and° consequently has none.of the rights or obligations of a religious. Can. 640 specifie~ these effects by stating that he ceases to be a mem-ber of his institute; that he must put off the religious habit, as ex- ,plained in n. 4; that he is freed from all the vows of his religious p~ofession, even if solemn; that he is no longer bound by the con-stitutions nor by any particular law of his former institute nor by the obligation of .reciting the Divine Office in virtue of religious pro-fession; and that he loses a.ll rights and privileges of a religious. A secularized religious cleric in sacred orders is bound by tl~e obligation of clerical celibacy and chastity (c. 132, § I), of reciting tl'ie Divine Office (c. 135), and of wearing becoming ecclesiastical garb (c. 136, § 1). In the celebration of Mass, the recitation of the Divine Office, and the administration and reception of the sacraments, the secular-ized religious follows the rite and calendar of the diocesan clergy and laity, not any special rite or proper calendar of his former in-stitute. A secularized religious ma.y not. be admitted into any re-ligious institute without a dispensation from the Holy See, since he 16. Cf. Guti~rrez, ibid., 186-97; Larraona, op. cir., 266. 233 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious. is now bound by the invalidating impediment of c. 542, I°, of a previous religious profession. If he is again admitted,, he is not obliged to make another postulancy17 but must make another novice-ship, temporary profession, for the full time prescribed by, the, con-stitutions, and perpetual profession. His seniority is determined by the new profession. A dispensation may be requested for'a lessening of a noviceship of more than a year and also of the time of tem-porary profession. The questions specific to clerics in minor and sacred orders (c. 641) and the privations that affect the latter (c. 642) can be found in the ordinary canonical manuals. (a) Return o['tgroperty. The institute has no obligation to re-store to the secularized religious any property that he had given to the institute, e. "g., in the renunciation before solemn profession. However, it is the very common d6ctrine of authors that equity counsels the restoration of a part of such property, at least if it has not been expended,is The renunciation, ceases to have any validity with regard to property that will come to the former religious in the future. A professed of simple vows regains the administration, use, and usufruct of his personal property (cc. 569, § 1; 580, § 3). A few constitutions contain the provision that clothing and personal effects brought to the institute at entrance are to be restored in their current condition to a religious who leaves'or is dismissed after first profession. Such a provision is to be obeyed. The constitutions may contain the contrary provision that hll such objects, except those of sufficiently notable value, are implicitly renounced in favor of the institute at first profession. In the absence of any provision' of the constitutions or custom, the latter doctrine may at least probably be followed. The ihstitute cannot be expected to permit the religious to carry all such objects from house to house or be obliged to retain and store them. The entire capital sum of the dowry, ~but not the interest already derived from it, is to be restored to a.secularized re-ligious woman (c. 551, § 1)i It is forbidden to deduct anything from the dowry for ordinary or extraordinary expenses that the institute had to pay in favor of the religious, e. g., for her support as a postulant or novice, studies, or illne'ss. A secularized r~ligious may not seek compensation for services rendered to the institute at any 17. Cf. c. 640, § 2: Larraona, Commentacium Pro Relioiosis, 16 (1935), 223; done, ot9 clt., 565. 18. Cf. dombart, o19. cir., n. 908; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 436; Claeys Bouuaert-Simenon, Manuale duris Canonici, I,, n. 689; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, 440, note 3; Vermeerscfi-Creusen, Epitome luris Canot~ici, I, n. 801. '234 EXCLAUSTRATION AND, ~;ECUL!~RIZATION time from his entrance .(c. 643, § 1). 12. Charitable subsidy for religious wotner~ (c. 643, § 2). The charitable subsidy consists of suitable clothing, personal effects, and a sum of money sufficient to enable a religious woman to return home safely and becomingly and to provid~ her with the means of a re-spectable livelihood for a period of time to be determined by mutual consent or, in the case of disagreement, by the local ordinary. The subsidy need not be prolonged beyond the time required for finding employment suitable to the condition of the former religious. If she is quite old and infirm and without resources, she must agree to enter" into a'suitable institution intended for persons of that condi-tion. The help given by her former institute need never have the~ character of a pension for life.19 Constitutions of religious women most rarely determine whether it is the institute, province, or house that is to furnish the subsidy. The matter.is therefore determined by the 'usage of the particular institute. The subsidy is to be given when the religious was received with-out a dowry or with a dowry insufficient for the purpose2° and cannot p~ovide for herself sufficiently from her own property. In " these circurfistances therefore the institute is obliged to give either the full amount of the subsidy or, in the event that the religious has some property of her own and/or a dov~ry insufficient for the purpose, the added amount necessary to equal the full amount of the subsidy. The ~ubsjdy has to be given to any ~eligious woman who leaves at the end of temporary profession or is then excluded from renew-ing temporary or making j~erpetual profession (c. 643, § 2), who is secularized during temporary or perpetual profession. (c. 643; § 2), or is dismissed during either temporary or perpetual profession (cc. 643, § 2; 647, § 2, 5°; 652, § 3). The code does not mention the subsidy in c. 653, which treats of s.ending a religious back im-mediat. ely and provisionally to secular life, nor in c. 646, which lists the crimes that effect theipso facto dismissal of religious. How-ever, the general canon on the subsidy is 643, § 2, which is evidently closely joined with the firs~ paragraph of the same canon. The latter lists dismisged religious without any restriction. The subsidy should certainly be given in the first case. It seems that it should also be given in the second case. It is not likely that the reli~gious is deprived of the su, bsidy because of the greater culpability of these crimes. The 19. Creusen, op. cir. n. 338; .]'ombart, op. cir., n. 908. 20. S. C. of Religious, Mar. 2, 1924: Bouscaren,.op. cir., I, 300. 235 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious ordinary dismissal of a religious wbman of perpetual vows demands culpable reasons, yet the code certainly commands that the subsidy-be given to all religious women dismissed in the ordinary manner. The canonical obligation of giving the subsidy is confined to religious women. However, an institute of men will practically al-ways have to give a subject in the same circumstances suitable cloth-ing, personal effects, and a sum of money sufficient to enable him to retu, rn home safely and becomingly; and equity and charity may oblige the institute to assist him financially until he secures em-ployment. 21 13. Special exctaustration (exclaustratio qualit~cata) o1: priests. This is, equivalently .a temporary laicization and secularization. Lai-cization deprives the cleric of the licit use of the power of orders, of clerical offices, rights, and privileges, and frees him of all clerical obligations except that of clerical celibacy and chastity attached to sacred orders (c. 213). The effects of secularization have been de-scribed above. In special exclaustration clerical and religious rights and obligations are not removed but'suspended for the time of the indult. This form of exclaustration is new and was introduced in the practice of the Holy See in October, 1953. It is confined to priests and may be granted only by the Holy See. The indult is generally given only on the petition of the subject or at least with his con-sent. It is likewise temporary and is usually granted only for a brief time, e. g., one or two years. Special exclaustration is a tem-porary and provisional remedy and ordinarily presupposes, tempor-ary reasons that will probably cease by its use. Typical cases are those of a serious crisis of faith, of disgust or fear "of the religious and priestly life, serious da,nger of public scandal or of apostasy from the priesthood or from fai.th, some physical infirmities, serious psy-chic disorders caused by the persuasion of a fundamental lack of aptitude for the priestly and religious life, depressive and scrupulous states, obstinate abstention from the celebration of Mass and from the sacraments caused partially, by infirmity and scruples, invincible repugnance to the exercise of the priestly ministry, and a secretly sinful life with consequent psychic depression and the persuasion that the life of chastity is impossible. The Holy See is ac,utely con-scious of the various dangers of this form of exciaustration and pro-ceeds prudently and cautiously in granting the indult and acts only 21. Cf. Woywood-Smith, A Practical Commentary on the Code of Canon Law, I, 323; Coronata, op. cir., 845; Cappello, Summa luris Canonlci, II, n. 630; ¯Regatillo-Zalba, De Statibus Particularibus, n. 254. 236 September, 1956 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION ¯ after having obtained complete information of the course of life of the petitioner. The priest continues to be a member of his institute, and this constitutes the essential similarity to ordinary exclaustration. The obligation of all the religious 'vows is suspended, but that of clerical celibacy and chastity attached to sacred o~rders remains. All other clerical and religious rights and Obligations are s,uspended, all clerical ministry is forbidden, and the priest is in the state of a lay person with regard to the reception of the sacraments. The indult places him under the special discipline and assistance of the local ordinary and of the institute that he may be charitably guided to upright and be-coming conduct and be aided in overcoming the crisis. He is obliged to put off the external form of the religious habit, as in ordinary exclaustration and secularization, and be ii also forbidden to wear ecclesiastical garb. He retains the merely spi'ritual privileges of his institute but does not have any of the other rights nor active and passive voice. During the time 'of the indult he acquires property for himself and may and should provide his own support. Before leaving religion he is to give the superior a declaration that he will provide his own support during the exclaustr~tion without any ob-ligation on the part of the institute. Cases can occur in which this declaration will not be prescribed, and the institute in charity should support the subject insofar as he cannot do so himself. Superiors may receive the subject back into the institute before the expiration of the indult~ but the clerical privations remain intact. until the Holy See has given its decision. On the expiration of the indult, the priest is obliged to return to his institute and recourse is to be made to the S. Congregation for a decision of the case. Su-periors, however, may use the faculty of c. 606, § 2, and permit him to live outside the institute for a brief time until the S. Congre-gation decides the matter. The indult can also cease on" its revoca-tion by the S. Congregation, either on the petition of the subject or for a serious reason on the initiative of the S. Congregation. The indult likewise ceases on the granting of perpetual laicization, by the penal infliction of such laicization, e. g., in the case of public scandal, or by a petition for secularizatior~ when the priest has found a bishop who is willing to receive him according to the norm of c. 641. All of the above on special exclaustration is a synopsis of Gutiirrez, Commentari~m Pro Religiosis, 36 (1955), 374-79. The matter i~ briefly described also in Sartori, durisprudev.tiae Ecclesiasticae Ele-menta, 3 ed., 60-61. ~ 237 Mo!:her Dolores Sister M. Teresita, S.H.F. The story of the foundress of the Sisters of the Holy Famil'y THE sudden rush of the ambitious gold seekers of 1848 gave Cali-~ | fornia, and San Francisco in particular, a cosmopolitan Char-acter. But abreast with the adventurers came new recruits in the missionary field seeking the finer gold of precious human souls. Ireland supplied a great many zealous young priests who-were ready to sacrifice home and country. They came to minister to the spiritual wants of her children who followed the lure of gold to the far-away shores of the Pacific. Foremost among the early students of All Hallows' Seminar~, in Dublin was John J. Prendergast. Born in Clogh~e, County Tip-perary, Ireland, in 1834; Father Prendergast was ordained for the Archdiocese of San Francisco on June 26, 1859. His great talents and fervent piety marked him out as an extraordinary student. He was offered a place on the faculty of All Hallows. As he was or- .dained for San Francisco, the authorities communicated with Arch- 'bishop Alemany. To make sure of the Archbishop's permission, two priests were offered in place of Father Prendergast. The de-" cision was left to the newly ordained. He refused the honor and set out for the distant country, chiefly known to the gold hunter, the specul~tor, and adventurer. He arrived in San Francisco when it was in the throes of civil, reli~lious~ educational, and social disor-ganization. In the exercise of the sacred ministry, Father Prendergast met the poor, the unfortunate, as well as the newly rich. He frequently walked the streets of the rapidly growing metropolis sprung out of the sand dunes, the city built,on the hills. His priestly heart ached for the many children he found who were totally ignora.nt of the truths of the faith of their forefathers. The sudden growth since the gold rush. of '49 had far outstripped municipal facilities. Mission Dolores was the parish to which Father Prendergast was assigned. It covered two-thirds of the present area of San Fran-cisco. In taking the census, this ardent son of Erin found many of the children of the poor living in frightful conditions. Many, whose mothers were obliged to go out to work for their living, were left alone all day. They were locked in their backyards with a half losf of bread and a bottle of milk to suktain them. Daily, Father 'lSrayed 238 MOTHER ~OLORES for a solution to the problem and begged God to send a suitable person to inaugurate a systematic campaign among the poor and neglected families of his parish. It was in the sun.rsplasbed gardens of historic Mission Dolores that Father Prendergast first met the high s~0irited, vivacious Eliza-beth Armer. Elizabeth had accompanied Mrs. Richard Tobin to arra, nge to have Masses said for departed relatives. She was standing there beside her" dark-eyed foster mother, the morning sun shining on her golden crown of auburn hair. She carned her fifteen years with girlish dignity. The warm, radiant personality manifested in one so young impressed Father Prendergast. Father felt that Elizabeth, though still a young girl, was just the one to begin his work. When he was later transferred to the Cathedral parish, he secured her services as a religion teacher for the children. She also assisted in cariflg for the altars. Eagerly he watched the unfolding of this beautiful flbwer in God's chosen gar-den. Rapidly plans for a much-needed institute developed in his own mind. Elizabeth Armer came to us out ~f Sidney, Australia. Little is known of her ancestry or early childhood. She was born on April 30, 1851. Soon after she arrived on our shores with her family, her mother died. Her father, Robert Amkr, remarried. It was the oft-repeated story of the step-dhild. Richard Tobin, a friend of Robert Ar~mer, coming home from the office one~da~, said, "Mary; I have a surprise for you. I've brought you a new daughter." Mr. Tobin told his wife that she was the child ofhis.old friend Robert Armer and added, with, deep faith, "Mary dear, God will provide." And God did. Elizabeth was enrolled in the classes at Presentation Convent. Here she spent her happy" school days under the supervision and in-struction of the good Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. That Elizabeth developed such a well-adjusted personality, spite her early misfortune, was due to the sympathetic understand-ing of her new parents. The comforts of their luxuriant home on exclusive Nob Hill did not distract Elizabeth from her love of God and souls. She often met little folks on ,thestreet. She would ,stop them to talk with them. This tall, beautiful girl would ask, "Do you love God? Do you say your prayers? . But we don't know any prayers, Miss," they would answer. "'Come to our house and I will'help 239 " SISTER M. TERESITA Review [or Religious you to learn to love God and to talk to" Him." Soon, Elizabeth had gathered quite a group of children around her to "learn about God." Her foster father remarked that their home was beginning to take on the appearance of a kindergarten. However, Mr. Tobin good naturedly tolerated the invasion. Mrs. Tobin often accompanied Elizabeth on her visits to the homes of the poor. In the institute of which she was destined to be foundress, these early characteristic traits, zeal for sQuls, love for the poor, were to be its distinguishing marks. Alleviation o.f both material, and spiritual poverty, .especially in families, was to be its special work. Soliciting funds from the wealthy to aid the less fortunate was to be the means, of extending help. 'They would seek out the children who needed religious instruction. They would lend a helping hand where needed, to preserve the family. This apostolic social work and social-minded apostolate are the_constant endeavors of her spiritual daughters, today. In spite of her active participation in the lay apostolate, Eliza-beth yearned for a complete dedication of her life to God, Her per-sonal love of the Saviob drew her with such force that Elizabeth thought that God was calling her to be a Carmelite. The future foundress desired to do God's will rather than her own, which led her to consult the archbishop about her vocation. "Elizabeth," replied the saint!y'Archbishop Alemany, "Father Prendergast and I have another work for~ you to ~1o, There are the little ones to be cared for while their mothers are off to work. And who is to instruct the children of our big city in the ways of faith, hope, and love? They must be prepared "for the Sacraments; they must be brought to the knowledge, love, and service of God. There are the poor to be visited in their homes. There are hearts to heal and souls to save in our busy city streets. This, is the work Ggd wants you to do, Elizabeth." To give up the s.ecurity of a life in a long-established and well-ordered religious congregation! To launch out on the rough sea of uncertainty of establishing a new institute! Was this what God was asking?. With firm faith and steady heart, she gave herself with perfect trust into the care of God's representative. This same simple faith, ardent love; and child-like trust mzrked all her dealings with God and men throughout her beautiful but comparatively short life. Trials were. not wanting; for it is only in the crucible of suffer-ing that the pure gold of such a soul is tried. It was necessary that the edifice of the Holy Family institute (the eternal inheritance be- 240 September, 19~6 MOTHER DOLORES queathed by Mother Dolores to her spiritual children) had to rest on the solid foundation of deep humility. God was not long in sending the first trial. Elizabeth was now twenty years of age. The time had come for definite action. At the bidding of her archbishop and Farher Pren-dergast, she left her foster parents' home. With one companion, Miss Collins, she moved into a little rented flat on Pine Street on November 6, 1872. This is Foundation~Day. DaiI~ they went about the duties of caring for the poor, the sick, and the needy: From the outset, the idea of a religious com-munity was in the mind of the founders. They were to devote them-selves generously to the service of God in the children and the poor. Father Prendergast had very definite i~leas of the life and work off. the young institute. To visit the homes of the poor, to bring" relief to the sick, to seek out the neglected children in their families--these are goals in social work that cannot be too much insisted upon. There is danger in our modern projects, providing recreation grounds and community clubs and hikihg expeditions, to neglect the family. 'Father Pren-dergast's idea of assistance covered the whole field of need. "Help-ing others to help themselves," was to be the m6tto of his welfare work. These two energetic young women labored enthusiastically for some months. The good the future institute was to accomplish, in the designs of God, was to be far-reaching. The souls to Obe snatched from Satan were to be 'many. Of course, the devil did not like this. He had his own plan to kill this good work in its infancy. On the other hand, every good work must be tried in the crucible of tribulation: A soul as staunch and courageous as that of Elizabeth Armer must be refined yet more. One morni~ng Miss Collins failed to report for duty. When Miss Armer visited her room, there were visible, On the hands and feet of Miss Collins, the likeness of the wounds of the Savior. Ever straightforward and upright herself, Miss Armer did not doubt her companion's sincerity. The incident created quite a stir. Shortly after, however, on investigation, it was discovered that the wounds were self-inflicted. Miss Collins was dismissed. , The incid'ent is brief in the telling, but who can kno~v the de.ep wound in the soul of the trusting Elizabeth. The scorn that sur-rounded her young institute. The infidelity of one she loved and trusted. 241 SISTER M. TERESITA ~ Review for Religious Another joined Miss Armer for a time. But the work was too hard; the.scorn was too difficult to bear. Friends of Father Prender-gast advised him to give up the idea. One after another had failed. He only replied, "There is one who will never fail, Elizabeth Armer." These were indeed dark days for the young foundress. She never referred to it--this trial was one she bore alone. She leaned on God alor~e for support. She maintained the same zeal for works of charity, the same devotedness to the poor and to the children of the Sunday schools. She did not seek a moment to relax. Her visits to the sick poor continued as before. When she needed a companion, she al-ways knew where to find one in the ever-faithful Mrs. Richard Tobin. Nearly two years had passed since Miss Armer had begun her work in the little rented house on Pine Street. They had been years of struggle and discouragement. True, they had been fruitful of good, but barren as far as a religious community was concerned. Alone, "disappointed in one, abandoned by another," the future Mother Dolores prayed, labored, and trusted in God. Mrs. Tobin remained faithful and Father Prendergast maintained his confidence. Then renewed hope came. On lk-lizabeth's birthday, in 1874, there came a, caller. It had been Ellen O'Connor's third attempt to see Miss Armer. "You are my birthday present!" Elizabeth exclaimed, when Ellen told her that Father Andrew Cullen had sent her. "This morning I asked the" Blessed Mother to send me a present. Have you come to stay? . I hope so," was Ellen's reply. ,And she did. As Sister Teresa, Ellen became the lifelong companion of Mother Dolores and succeeded her as Mother General of the institute. The new enterprise had been marked with the cross, the sign of God'~ special favor. The youthful foundress had proved herself faithful. The work was readyto move fbrward.:. Very soon, other generous young girls came knocking at the door of the little rented convent asking, "May I help too?" The poverty of the flat did not seem to frighten them. The long .hours among the children did not seem to tire them. The night watches with the sick and dying did not make them change their minds. They had cgme to give their all to Christ. He was all in all to them! This was the generous, self-sacrificing spirit that animated those early sisters who were first known as "The Miss Armers." Father Prende~gast called them Sisters of the Holy Family. And that name has been made their own. In rapid succession, four young ladies came to. join Miss Armer 242 September~ 1956" MOTHI~R DOLORES and Miss O'Connor. Winter,was now past for the young institute, and God was blessing it with increase. Archbishop Alemany decided that ,steps should be taken to establish a regular religious congrega-tion. Miss O'Connor was sent to the Dominican Convent in Benecia to make her novitiate. In 1878, she pronounced her .vows as Sisger Teresa of Jesus, in the presence of the Archbishop and the sisters. Now the foundress became .subject and, with her four compan-ions, began her novitiate under the direction of Sister Teresa. They completed their required novitiate in March, 1,880. On the Feast of St. Joseph, faithful guardian of the Holy Family and special pro-tector of the institute, Sister Dolores and the four sisters pronounced their holy vows. The Sisters of the Holy Family were molded into a new congregation in the Church. California's' own; its first, and still its only, native religious institute. Alr~eady, as early as1878, Archbishop Alemany"entrusted a new field of labor, which had long been dear to his heart, to the infant community. They were asked to care for young children throughout the day, whose ~mothers were qbliged to work to support their, little ones. Ever mindful of the sacredness of the integrity of family life, the Archbishop saw in these Day Homes the fulfillment of his early plans. At first the sisters shared their own convent with these needy ones of Christ's flock and cared for them "'with the fender charity of a Christian mother~" In due time, four commodious Day Homes were erected in San Francisco through the industry .of the zealous sisters and the charity of kind benefactors. Abreast with catechetical work, the Day.Hgmes have since spread to San ,Jose, Oakland, and Nevada. From their new mother house on Hayes Street, these~ new, ly pro-fessed religi0us, now augmented by more members, carried on the apostolic work already well begun, They set out on their exalted and laborious mission of pushing back the frontiers of rel.igious ig-noranCe.~ The growing city of San Francisco was their first concern. Soon, pastors of parishes outside of San Francisco were asking for the sisters. They gathered th~ children together after school as well as on Saturday and Sunday rhornings. Sometimes classes were held in an unused store. At Tanforan~ race ,track, they held sessions in the pavillion where the children came to them on foot, on. horse-back, or in wagons. Stories could be multiplied without end, of the men and women, priests and religious, who trace their first desire to hear of Godtto the 243 SISTER M. TERESITA Review for Religious kindly invitation of these seekers of souls. This attraction which her sisters have fo~ children seems to be one of the priceless !e~acies Mother Dolores has bequeathed.to her f~mily. We might cal[ it the special sacramental character of their missionary vocation. These were the specific works of the new institute. However, Mother Dolores.was not slow to respond to emergencies. San Fran-cisco's P[esidio became the port for the sick and wounded soldiers during the Spanish American War. Suddenly the dread typhoid ,plagde broke out in the camps. Her sisters willingly volunteered for active duty as nurses. Mother Dolores herself prepared and provided many of the medic~i1 supplies during the three months in which the disease raged. A grateful city expressed its thanks to the valiant work of the many sisters who foughttthe plague by granting free transportation to all sisters on her street cars and buses, even to this day. The memory of the public service rendered by the sisters in this emergency prompted city officials to call upon them in the greater catastrophe of the 'terrible fire and earthquake of 1906. When the trembling city was licked with flames, the sisters could be found assisting the sick and dying. Their mother house became a hospital for the insane. The now homeless desuits found a tem-porary shelter 'on the main floor of the convent. In return, th~ey have given the mother'.house daily'~Mass ever since. The sisters' im-mediate and efficient, response to the city officials' appeal for help in San dose du.ring the influenza epidemic again manifested their alert-ness to the need for prompt and generous action in public calamities. Tireless in her efforts to save souls, Mother Dolores never spardd herself. The work. of organization and administration of her grgw-ing community was taxing her physical ~trength more than her sisters ~realized. A severe heart attack made it evident that Mother's condition was critical; she was'but.53 years old. Father Prendergast was called to her bedside. On seeing him, Mother simply said, "I am going." "No doubt you would like to see your work more~ per-fectly finished and carry out some 6f your plans before going to Heaven, to our Lord." She answered, "God knows best." So on August 2, 1905, her ardent souF in all its radiant splendor, like a restless flame, leaped from the charred remains of its burned-out temple, to the presence of her Creator, her Divine Lover. Mother Dolores was a product of her age and locale. She im-bibed the spirit of the adventurous gold seekers. By supernaturalizing 244 September, 1956 MOTHER DOLORES that spirit, she became an adventurous soul seeker. : Ever mindful of the necessity of adaptation to changing times, the progressive spirit of the foundress was passed on to her daughters. When modern means of travel proved helpful, they were used. The Sisters of the Holy Family were driving their own cars to distant missions when women drivers were still uncommon. Across the alkali beds of Utah, the deserts of Ne,~ada, or into its high moun-tain peaks they go. They use every means to bring the word of God to the ghost towns so reminiscent of the "Gold Rush." Now they contain only the precious ore of immortal souls. The populous cities witness their zeal in going from school to school during the day, teaching on released time. In the far~flung parishes of the Monterey-Fresno Diocese, they travel within the radius of forty-five miles of their convent home. They gather small groups in one-room schools of tile districts. Soon, a little chapel marks the spot and the Mass comes to another outpost conquered for Christ. Or, in the more populous areas, they assemble large groups, for which ~hey need the belp of a "walkie-talkie" to make themselves heard. Always seeking souls, the sisters will be found with the Mexican~ in Texas, extending the frontiers of faith among the~ Indians in Nevada, the Chinese in Fresno, the colored in our large c~ties, the Hawaiians in Hawaii. The young Americans from every state in the Union, who are pouring into our beautiful California in fabu-lous numbers, are feeling the impact of their religious training. Today, the daughters of Elizabeth Armer are laboring in three archdioceses and six dioceses. They are ~nstr~cting 79,000 public school Children in 225 parishes. Last year there were 1400 belated baptisms and 12,843 first Holy Communions. What a rich harvest of souls! Indeed, the fires of her zeal had inflamed many generous young women. The highways and byways,, the towering moun-t;~ ins and the lowly valleys, know the steady progress of this veri-table conflagration-~conquering one outpost after the other for Christ. The welfare work done among these families cannot be estimated. The Day Homes gave day care to 2,000 regardless of race, colo~, or creed during the past year. The same spirit of faith that SUlSported the pioneer sisters is re-flected in the constitutions of the institute "The special end is to instruct and educate children in the doctrine and practice of the Catholic faith . . ." 245 P. DE LETTER Review "for Religious Wl~en death claimed Mother Dolores on August 2, 1905, there was as yet no foundation outside of San Francisco. Mqnsign6r John J. Prendergast went to his reward on January 19, 1914. Pontifical approval was not requested until many years later, so it was not until-July 8, 1931, that the Holy See issued its decree of praise and approval of the" congregation and its constitutions, thus raising it to the status of a pontifical congregation. Monsignor Pren- ~dergast and Mother Dolores witnessed the crowning of their efforts from heaven when on May 28~ 1945, Pope Plus XII, gave tile definitive approbation, bidding the Congregation to ""continue to the~ end of,time." OnMet:hod in !:he Spiri :ual Life P. De Letter,,S. J. THE most common inconsistency is to desire some end and not to take the means to attain it" (Father de Pdnlevoye, S.J.). This applies particularly, though in no way exclusively, to the spiritual life. It happens, and perhaps it is not rare, that we wish for some certain ideal, desire a particular step forward in spirituality, and neglect to take the means. What is the root of this inconsistency? No doubt some sort of inertia-, of fear of effort. We fight shy of exertion. One takes it easy, and so nothing happens. ~We may not like to confess this sort of laziness. No one, no religious, especially, likes'to acknowledge he is lazy. Perhaps that is why not infrequently an endeavor is made to cover up this ihdecision and lack of action with theoretical difficulties. Perhaps the main difficulty in this re-spect is an objection against method in the spiritual life. For; if one were to follow a method, one would be doing something hbout one's intended objective. THE OBJI~CTION The objection is this: In, the spiritual or supernatural life, 'free-dom must be left to the Holy Spirit, to the initiative and inspiration of grace. It is not we who have to take'the initiative; it is the Spirit that takes the lead. Methods endanger 'the freedom of the Spirit who moves as He pleases; they may stifle the growth of the spiritual life, kill its spontaneity. Perhaps today a little more than formcrly this objection is raised, if not in theory then at any rate in practice; 246 September, 1956 ON METHOD IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFI~ it is acted upon. A number of people who yet try tO lead a spiritual life are inclined to care little for effort, for methodical application to prayer, or to the practice of definite virtues. They like to trust in the inspiration of the m, oment, to" follow the movements of grace rather than to forestall them. Lest this objection may actually turn into a cover for laziness, it is worth considering the issue. We shall do so and first consider method in general and then a concrete ex-ample of it, the Ignatian method. THE ISSUE: METHOD AND COOPERATION WITH (~RACE According to Father'de Guibert's Tl~eolog~ of the Spiritual ~Lit¥, n. 176, the use of method in the spiritual life, in prayer, or in the acquisition or practice of a virtue consists in baying some pre-fixed mode of action, suitable, fo? attaining an end and of application in a series of cases. In mental prayer, for example, it means that one prepares and foresees the subject matter and order of meditation, then starts with a progressive introduction to the subject, follows ,point by point using on'e's memory, understanding, and will--re-flecting, prayer, res, olving and ends with a colloquy. Andther ex-0 ample of use of method is the particular examen applied to the prac~ tice Of a virtue. One foresees what should be,done, how and when, resolves beforehand to pay attention and make the effort, and. tv~ice a day checks the way one went about it, examining success or. ill-success and its cause, resolving again 'to do better in tl4e next. half day. " Now, the problem involved in this use of method is that of our cooperation with grace. How must we conceive this cooperation? Tl~e spiritual life, being supernaturally inspired, actually is a matter of cooperation of our free will with grace, the latter leading, the first following~the lead of grace. It is beyond all doubt that in every; supernatura! activity it is grace that takes the initiative i(just a~ it is the reason of its spiritual fruitfulness and success, but this does not concern our present problem). And so the question is whether the use of method goes against the initiative of grace. Do We by'mak-. ing use of such methods as mentioned abbve take an initiative in the spiritual life that should be left to grace, to the inslAibation of the Holy Spirit? , ANSWER ~ We answer: The rigl~t use of method does not hinder the initia-tive of grace but is only ou'r way of cooperatirig ~with grace. When will the use of method be right? On two conditions: when it is 247 P, DE LETTER Review #:or Religious itself prompted by grace and when in its actual practice one does' not stick too rigidly to fixed details but follows eventual inspira-tions of grace that invite to greater liberty of spirit. 'The use of method can .be, and generally is, an answer to indi-cations that come from .grace. When duty calls to set exercises of prayer~ as when the bell sounds for meditation, or when providential ~ircumstances or genuine inspirations of grace (which are in perfect agreement with duties of obedience) invite to a particular practice of virtue, we may take it that to apply oneself methodically to prayer or to virtuous practice i~ merely to answer the initiative of grace. That is our way of cooperating with grace. There could be nothing but self-delusion in waiting for the promp.tin~s of grace to begin meditation when the hour of prayer is there. Method, used in these, circumstaF~ces,is but a guarantee that we are not wanting to grace but do our' share~ Yet in doing our share, enough freedom of mind must be kept for allowing grace to direct us whenever the Spirit so'chooses. A well-known example of this freedom is given in the directive of the Spiritual Exercises to the effect that in meditation we should stop at the poi,nt in which we find spiritual fruit, without any anxiety of going further, stop as long as we find what satisfies our spiritual need. This freedom and docility to the Spirit forestalls 6vet-rigid fidelity to mechanical rules. When grace clearly, takes the le~d, we follow. When the promptings of grace do not draw us, we on our part do what in us lies to answer the Lord's call expressed in our duty. When we understand the use of method in this manner, then Father de Guibert's practical conclusions in the matter are in no way surprising. He says: To reject all method is unsafe and may amount to the error of quietism; the inspirations of ~grace duly known for. authentic (by the discernment of spirits) may be followed, not how-ever against obedience or clearly known duty; the use-of method, generally speaking, is beneficial, because it is" nothing else" than profit-ing by the experience and wisdom of other people and using the r~eans for the end; methods may and do vary greatly, and freedom must be left in using them, the main point being that one has some method which proves workable; exaggerations however are not ex-cluded, one of which may be undue self-reliance shown in. excessive trust in the efficacy of or~e's method. Such being the case, it may be'well for us religious now and. then to see in which direction the general trend of our spiritual life in- 248 Septemb~er, 1956 ON METHOD IN ,THE SPIRITUAL LIFE clines: are we inclined either to overstress method or to neglect it? The danger of neglect may be the more frequent, because of the ef-fort and monotony involved in methodical action, both of which, may look uninteresting and unappealing. Yet, the other extreme of a too-mechanical fidel~ty is not excluded, nor is it without a danger of turning prayer or virtue into a more or' less fruitless for-mality. IGNATIAN METHOD One of the well-known and much,spread methods in the spiritual life is that of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Perhaps it has been no less maligned than praised. What exactly does Ignatian method consist in? We may characterize it briefly in a feW words: Have an objective in view and take the means to achieve it. Or, more briefly, know what you are after and go for it. What do these two principles mean in practice? How do they respect the initiative that must be left to grace? It is worthwhile to ponder a moment over this simple method~ and see how it enhances rather than hinders the initiative of grace. FIRST PRINCIPLE Its first principle, have a purpose in view, is of the utmost im-portance in spirituality, as in every other field of human activity. In fact, many people oftentimes do not know~ what they are after what they do, say, desire. They do what they do because they have to, or because they feel like doing it, or because they must do something to spend their time and for no reason known to then~ they happened to hit on this particular occupation. Such a manner of living may be little respectful of a man's rational nature; it cer-tainly is not Ignatian at all. St. Ignatius means us to know and to desire .what we intend in prayer or mortification-~or for that mat-ter, in study or manual labor or recreation or social relations. And he wants us to be very definite about our objective. For meditation, he not only begins the exercise with a preparatory prayer in which we ask that our entire activity.during our prayer be directed to God's glory and service; in a, second (or third) preclude he makes us ask for "what we desire," his famous id quod volo, that is, for the par-ticular grace and spiritual fruit which is suggested by and. in con-formity with the subject matter of the meditation. Definiteness of ai~n in prayer is a first Ignatian principle. Does it gb against" the initiative that belongs to grace? On the face of it, it may look as though we ourselves settle beforehand what spiritual fruit or grace we are after; is that not to take the lead and 249 P. DE LETTER Reoieto for Religious to put limits and rules to the activity 6f the Holy Spirit? Is that not a sort of Semi-Pelagianism? The question has more than once been mode :into an accusation, partly perhaps when some hasty or unsym-pathetic reader overlooked what precedes the id quod uolo, namely, to.ask for what I desire. We may point to a threefold answer to this difficulty. First of all, we are directed to ask for the grace we desire; and we may safely take it that this desire and prayer itself is already prompted by grace--is not every salutary act which helps us spiritually to draw nearer to God, and prayer is such an act, a fruit of ~the inspiration of grace? This prayer, moreover, is as it were open to correction; it is' up to God's grace to answer our desire --it is not our effort alone that will carry or enforce it--and to an-swer it in the manner He pleases and knows best. Secondly, the very specification or determination of the grace we ask for is, in principle and generally also in fact, not the result of personal whim or fancy (barring perhaps the exceptional cases of impulsive and weather-cock- like characters who lack or neglect due preparation and fore-' sight) ; it is either provided by external providential indications, as is the case in retreat time or when we use a meditation manual, whether prescribed or advised by a director or even chosen on our own motivated decision, or suggested" by internal inspiration. Of grace. In all these cases, this prayer for a particular grace is but an answer to the initiative of grace. Lastly, this initial desire which to a varying extent inspires the very manner in which we apply our-selves to our prayer does not preclude any new promptings of grace that may and often do arise in the course of the exercise. The above-mentioned Ignatian rule about freedom in stopping at what satisfies the soul clearly entails this. Moreover~ the ~d quod ~olo is often of such a comprehensive nature that it leaves ample and free play to. the manifold and varying inspirations of grace. An example is the prayer made at the beginning of most meditations on the life of our Lord: that we may know Him better, love Him more ardently, and follow Him more closely. This is an ide~il which each particular soul will realize in his or her own p~irticular way--and there are as many various ways nearly as there are particular individuals ~and particular vocations. Futhermor.e, tfiis definiteness in asking for a particular grace is mainly a matter of psychological preparation and should not be misunderstood in the sense of dictating to grace. As in any other human uladertaking, so also in prayer; definiteness of aim makes for definiteness in efforts; and this guarantees definite results, just as vagueness of aim leads to vague and weak efforts~ 250 - September, 1956 ON METHOD IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE and vague and poor results., Accordingly, it is safe tO say that Ig-natian definiteness of aim in our prayer does not clash with the initiative due to grace, provided 0nly we handle our method with a pure intention and with the necessary freedom of spirit. This free-dom is perhaps less fo be attended to in the beginnings of a life of ¯ prayer or of religious training; beginners generally do well to follow directives closely. But after years of practice, experience should teach one what this freedom means, and how it opposes in no way thorough generosity. So much for the first: principle in the Ignatian method~. SECOND PRINCIPLE The second principle; take the means to the purpose you are after, implies mainly two things. It first means to say that we should make the necessary effort. We should not expect results without taking the means that must produce them. Perhaps it is very l'Juman (or must we say childish?) to rely on ,good luck whilst, neglecting what one should do, to hope: and expect that' things will turn out for the b~st somehow. Children in fact more or less expect"miracles to happen. But is tha.t reasonable and safe? Is it not overlooking one of the very first principles of reason: that every effect demands a sufficient and proportionate cause? Which means, in this case, that spiritual results suppose ~not only grace but also our cooperation. It is rather risky to count on a ~ause that may Well never act; in this particula'r case, to rely on abundant grace which would mal~e up for our lack of. diligence; all the more so, since this very unprepared-hess for cooperation with grace is likely, to preclude that grace--God does not dispense His graces in sheer waste. A.second thing implied in this principle, is that we should make a tolanned effort: go about our business, whether of prayer or of any other virtuous practice~ in an orderly manner and not haphaz'ardly: not in an unenlightened way, groping as it were in the dark; not according to an unmotivated manner of proceeding or according to whim and fancy of the moment. This supp,oses first that we know the means for our purpose as they are laid down in directives and rules or borne out by the experience of others or even' learned and confirmed by personal experience. We must know the rules of the game if we are to play properly. It means therefore that it is not enough, however important it may be in itself, to overcqme inertia and set oneself to one's, task, making the needed exertion. We must apply ourselves in a clear-sighted manner, knowing what we are doing and why. It further means that we follow the known direc- 251 P. DE LETTER rives with perseverance. It has been said that "with many, courage gives way when they are half way of the effort; some are afraid of trying, others are afraid of succeeding"; in fact "things are worth what they cost" (Fat, her de Ponlevoye). Yet this perseverance should not be marred by shortsighted stubbornness.We must never forget in practice the necessary freedom of spirit in following methodidal rules; rather we must be ever ready to obey the inspiration of grace, to learn from circumstances and from experience, with humility and, docility, with sincerity and honesty with ourselves. It ma~ not al-ways be easy in practice to find the proper balance bet,ween perseverant fidelity to rules and freedom of spirit or docility to the Spirit. Only the interior Guidi~ can teach it in practice, and He certainly will if we do not lack sincerity and generosity. When this necessary freedom of spirit is safeguarded, there is no fear that metbodital application to prayer or practice of virtue, according to rules and planned action, will make one too mechanical or kill the spontaneity of life needed also in the spiritual life. Method makes for orderly activity; it excl'udes a happy-go-lucky manner which actually is more a lack of readiness to cooperate with grace than the contrary. Method does not kill spontaneity; it directs it, if only one uses it properly, that is, with t?reedom of spirit and sincerity. Nor does it then in any way hinder the initiative of grace which must be respected also in the course of our prayer or practice of virtue. It is part of the method ever to be docile to what grace may show or demand. And so, if tile use of metho~d in the spiritual life is rightly un-derstood and put into practice, that is, as the very expression of our desire to answer the call of grace, then certainly it will never stand in the way of grace. It will guarantee our cooperation with God's grace and leave no excuse for inertia or lazine.ss. Grace do.es not dis-pense with our effort, it renders our effort possible and fruitful. " 252 NEW BUSINESS ADDRESS Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3115 South Grand Boulevard St. L~uis 18, Missouri Sisters' Re!:rea!:s--V Thomas Dubay, S.M. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE RETREAT MASTER ]F it is possible to assay the general mind of the sisters as expressed in their thousands of answers and observations given in this re-treat study, the present writer would be inclined to point out the subject matter of this article, the retreat master himself, as consti-tuting what they consider the single, most-imporant element covered in the survey. The sisters often cast this general impression into a concrete mold. Observed one sister: There is one order whose technique I prefer over the others and one whose method I like least. Yet the best retreat master I ever had was from the latter! The man makes the 'retreat master, not the method! Time and time again the sisters retur~ in their comments to the retreat master, his message, his methodology, and especially his qual-ities or lack of them. And yet we frankly grant that we approach this most difficult of the subjects treated in the survey with consider-able diffidence. It is difficult because it deals with persons, not mere things, But there is nothing like the truth, anO so we will plunge in. QUALITIES In order to ascertain what qualities the sisters especially looked for in their retreat masters, the following question was placed before 'them : Among the following characteristics of ~a retreat master would you put the number 1 before the one you appreciate most, a 2 before the next in order, etc. to the last: __experience ._._~sense of humor genuine sanctity __theological learning ~kind manner ~practicality Further comment: (spice provided) Unlike their modus aqendi in the other survey questions, the sisters did not here mention man.y new qualities in the blank spaces. Simplicity, humility, and interest in work were noted twice, while the following qualities were mentioned once each: clarity, sweetness and patience, sincerity, .understanding of women, average speaking ability, and intelligence. In order to differentiate as finely as possible the varying degrees of importance, which were attached to the qualities contained, in 253 THOMAS DUBAY . Reuiew for Religious the questionnaire, three points were given to th'e quality eachsister first selected, tWO points to the second, and one point to the third. In parentheses are indicated the number of times each characteristic w'as given first choice. Genuine sanctity . 1481 (414) Practicality . 786 (100) Experience 693 (71) Theological.learning .496 (63) Kindness . 360 (23) Sense of humor . 'i. 225'(10) As can be easily seen, there is really no contest for first 'place. The very fact that gefuine sanctity received more first place votes than all other characteristics put together clearly demo~astrates the fact that sisters want their retreat masters to be men of God before ;Ill else. Practicality is rated as a little more important thar~ experiehce, while knowledge of theology is given the nod over kindness and a sense of humor. The reader may be interested in comparing tile above rating of qualities with the various comments the sisters have made (or will make) in other articles of this series. The correlation 'is significantly high, We are thus rendered all the more certain that our survey has accurately captured their collective mind. We will give typical excerpts of the sisters' further comments according to tee alphabetical order in which the qualities .were listed on the survey form. Experience-- [I select experience] because if he has survived in this type of work, he should be" good.' Father, this is a hard one. They should all be first. A retreat master need not have years of experience in order to conduct a successful retreat: Sometimes those with most experience can be very dry and not at all practical. By ekperience I would understand his dealing with people, not the number of retreats he has conducted. I take by experience You mean with souls and religious life. I also appreciate it when he. makes [sic] a spade a spade and leaves nff loop holes for if's or ,but's. Genuine sanctity-- It has been my conclusion that the best thing any retreat master has to give is his own personal example. The convictions with which he approaches his own spir-itual life necessarily,shdw through his efforts to instruct-.others and in this lies his greatest appeal at least for me. 254. September, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--V The personal holiness of the retreat master is by far the most impoltant characteristic. "We thunder what we are" and I think this is particularly true of retreat masters. A priest who says Mass slovenly, and has a worldly manner, etc., can hardly expect his hearers to be "refOrmed" or uplifted in spirit regardless of how perfect his con-ferences may be. A genuine saint might be a very poor retreat master, if he is unable to express himself effectively~ and lacks the theological learning necessary to instruct and guide others to sanctity. Experience and practicality should help a retreat master in making the best use of the short time ;it his disposal to cover the necessary points. Sanctity is most important, however, because without it, the insincerity" would be obvious and detract from the effectiveness of'tl~e speaker. Of all the retreats I have made, three are outstanding and have affected my spiritual life most, as far as I can judge. In each case it was the personal sanctity .of the retreat master that gave these retreats their form and impetus. . A doer of the wo~d as well as preacher carries more weight than any other quality [ know. Sometimes the good effects are lessened by a discovery" that Father preaches but does not live what he advises. The tirlge of pharisaism is usually detrimental. A genuine saintly retreat master by his very presence is a light to the beholder: his example gives inspiration, and a desire to be like him and draws or attracts the at-tention of the listener. His teaching is naturally as be lives: therefore very ac- Ic elpiktaeb tloe fbeye al ltlh oart mthoes tr eotfr ethaetsm m.aster is really doing what he is asking us to do. Sanctity radiates a something that neither intelligence or humor can replace. I've made retreats given by saintly men after which I was ready to sign up with a Foreign Legion or for China if I were asked to .do sd. If a man is genuinely holy, the rest doesn't matter. If God has thrown in a sense of humor, the man's mighty lucky'. Father, many sisters lead deeply spiritual lives and we are not so interested in your learning as such, as we are in knowing that you firmly live and believe your doc-trine. We want you learned but in the end it is your own spiritual life that tells. Many retreat masters fail to stress holiness as intimate union with God. We thirst for the fountains of living water. We want solid doctrine. We want you to fire us' with enthusiasm. We are not bored or critical when you speak. We are intent upon gaining a spiritual lift. Don't apologize for repeating the same material. We are not looking for novelty. If we knew you prayed out all your meditations be-fore Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, we would have great faith in your spoken words. I have watched 4.8 retreat masters come and go, and observed the sisters,, making retreats, heard their reactions, attended conferences when possible and there is one answer: personal sanctity. Kind manner-- One who is kind and understanding in confession--and who asks. if there is any-' thing else on your mind. Sometimes tha't last question is just what one needs! I think if a retreat master has real genuine sanctity and a kind manner, whatever else is lacking God will supply the rest. Please don't close the slide or glee absolution before sister has told her story and received some satisfaction. I am not referring to a scrupulous soul. 255 THOMAS DUBAY "Reoieto for Religio~ PracticalitF-- I like a retreat master who can "talk" to us and be practical in the applications he makes. A clear cut set of ideas is what I always hope to find in a retreat. A retreat master who sets down principles to live our daily lives by and who makes us toe the mark and set out with new determination to seek perfection with God's help d~es a greatest ot: services. Some seem to avoid the practical problems of religious life. They don't get down to the core of the matter, even in discussing the vows. Make them practical! Not the extraordinary, once in a lifetime act of obedience, but the everyday type, the everyday needs of each vow. Occasions of sin, etc. Most Of us cduld actually write a volume on the theory of sanctity. It has been well explained, but maybe we could have more practical hints to help us practice what we .know. Sense of humor-- A good sense of humor in a retreat master makes for a good retreat. The dry kind never appeal to me. A retreat to me, is a joy, not a dry thing'. A sense of humor is O.K., especially on a very hot day to keep you awake, but Sacred Scripture should not be used to make fun. By sense of humor I understand having a proper evaluation of things, ability to see,and enjoy a joke~not necessarily "full of jokes." Theological learning-- The choice of I and 2 is a difficult one for the "Spirit breatheth where He wills." However, in the analysis of problems, judicious decisions to be made. delicate situ-ations to handle and the like the educated theologian has much to offer. A certain confidence is generated. God can ~use a stick to work wonders. I think all of these necessarily link together because theological learning could not be passed over to some of us without sanctity, experience, practicality, and a sense of humor. We can really presume en~ough theological learning in any religious set aside to give retreats to nuns. A real absence of theological learning would be worse than an absence of sanctity--but a lot of learning carries small weight with nuns with-out genuine holiness behind it. In the last analysis it is only holiness as concretized in another person which can inspire. But sanctity lending weight to incomplete or misapplied doctrine can do harm. General comments-- This is difficult to answer because he needs them a11, at least in some degree~ Nuns like humility in a retreat master, but not a "scared" attitude or one of"'you-know- it-all-already--what can I tell you" attitude~ We do not know very much. He should sound convinced. A sister can tell whether a retreat master is giving.a retreat merely because of duty or whether he honestly loves the sisters and wants to help them advance along 256 September, 1956 SISTERS~ RETREATS--V the road to perfection, understanding their problems no matter how small they may be. Fatherly is the characteristic I like best of all. One to whom you can speak with ease, knowing and realizing that he has your interest (souls) at heart. Very difficult to decide--would like to have all in one. , One final word on the qualities of the retreat master. As has been indicated in a p~evious article, sisters, teaching in college lay a heavier emphasis as a gioup on their need for theglogy. The' writer noted the same stress here on the importance of theological learning in the retreat master. Among the var, ious qualities of the retreat master, a knowledge of theology is the only one that received an emphasis that was noticeably different according to the work in which' the sisters en, gag~d, DEFECTS Often enough pointing out deficiencies is little short of,.unpleas-ant, and it so happens that our present task is decidedly such. How-ever, St. Thomas speaks of fraternal correction as a spiritual alms, an act of charity. For that reason and because the sisters so intended their observations in a lovely spi'rit of combined kindness and frank-ness, we move with less hesitation to the business at hand. The question dealing with defects was worded as follows: What characteristic do you dislike most in a retreat master? Please place hum- . bet 1 before the one you dislike most, etc. Further comment : t No suggested defects were offered to the sisters. The writer feels that more objectivity was thus secured for the reason that a defect would have to make a considerable impression on a sister if she was to be able to recall it unaided. It would have had to be real. This "no suggestion" technique gave rise on the other hand to a ~wide'variety of noted failings. These we have tried to reduce to common categories as far as possible, but accuracy forbade too drastic a reduction. Hence, the sizeable list below. After each obs.erved defect, is given the number of tirffes it was mentioned. The figure in parentheses indicates the number of times the failing was listed as "disliked most." Statements under each heading are characteristic ways in which the sisters styled the defect. Reading conferences an~t meditation expos~.s . 176 (83) 257 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious Reading the retreat--slave to notes--reading entire conference--r~ading notes in-stead of talking. Lack of interest . 93 (28) Sense of boredom (I'm here because of obedience)-~cold, factual 16resentation-- "job attitude"-~a no interest attitude-~-doing something assigned and no mor~-- listless, sleepy, dull. , Conceit . 81 (35) Desire to make an impression~know-it-all attitude--attracts to himself--better-than- thou attitude-~c0cksureness--aloofness---ccnstant reference to himself-~go-tism. Verbosity . 71 (15) Long and rambling--talks and talks and says nothing--nev.er getting to the point-- endless repetition --- d0esn't keep to the schedule--long windedness. Sarcasm, ridicule .¯ . 68 (31) Making fun of problems of sisters of other communities--rididule of superiors-- sarcastic manner--sarcastic approach. ,Joking manner . . 59 (19) Too many jokes--keeps retreatants in an'uproar-~clowning~trying to be funny --a joker. Impracticality . 57 (12) Examples that don't fit o~ur work-~-prlnciples without examples---out-dated. Severity . : . 56 (13) Hell fire and brimstone gloomy--fills with fear rather than love--harsh---blunt expres,sions--six days of scolding. Confessional defects . 50 (9) Impatient.-not available--fast--harsh-~curt--not helpful~talks too loud--no in-terest in the Confessional--indifference to problems. Delivery defects . 47 (11) Talks too fast--inaudible--shouting, ranting-r--muttering, indistinct too slow in .speech--hilting, hesitating---cannot heat him. Superficiality ' .42 (5) La~k of material to communicate--superficial flippancy--shallow--greats retreat lightly--too many ideas .at one time--lightnes~ of treatment--banality lack of theological basis--ignorance theologically unsound. Emotionalism and dramatic manner . . 40 (8) Oratorical---excessive emotion--flowery langfiage--sentimentalism in choic~ of poems, prayers, etc.--too many gestures--unnecessary play on words. Lack of preparation . .,. . . 40 (15) Unpreparedness---lack of organization--lack of immediate preparation. 258 September, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--V Excessive intellectuality .". . . 39 (15) Subjects too deep--explainer of theology too philosophical--theological learning' --bookish conferences--high sounding explanations~ Critical spirit in general .3.4. .(10) Chip on the shoulder---critical spirit--pet grievances---critical toward his own corn: re.unity or supenors-~constant scolding-~criticism of sisters studying for degrees--, Cynical" spirit. Lack of sense of humor .: . . . 34 (10) Too serious--gloomy--never a sense of humor. Critical spir'it toward sisters .3.1. (6) Belit'tling nuns--atti.tude that religious are frustrated-~-' unfriendly toward our com-munity-~ critical toward sisters--lack of respect for religious women--making fun of nuns-~critical of our rule, constitutions, and customs--says he dislikes giving retreats to sisters. Worldliness .~. . .~ . 29 (7) Lack of spiritual depth--too l~lasi--play boy type~lacks ho!iness-~easy going-- selfish. Narration of personal experie,nces . 26 (8) Too much personal reference--talking about what they have done-~-~introducing himself and his beloved relatives --- details of family history. Lack of kindness .,. .25 (5) o Harsh, unkind, especially in the confessional--unapproachable--unsympathetic. - Condescension toward sisters . 21 (4) Acting as though we can't understand him--talking down to women-~condescend-ing toward nuns-~belittles the intelligence of nuns and hence waters, down doctrine --treats sisters as beginners in the spiritual life, ' Negative approach .1.5. (4) Too much sin, no love--stressing the negative--emphasis on God's justice. Lack of understanding .1.4. (1) Doesn't understand human nature--lack of understanding of nuns and their problems. In or, der neither to prolong our list beyond due m~asure nor to deny the sisters' views full recognition, we will treat the remaining de-fects in paragraph form and indicate only the total number of times each failing was mentioned. Defects in examples (lack .of, exag-gerated, too many), 14; narrating faults~and scandalous stories re- ~arding other religious, 12; mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, 12; brev-ity, 12;language defects (crude, coarse, slang, grammatical errors), 11 ; nervous and timid ' (restless, fidgeting), 11 : not looking :at audience, 10; inexperience, 8; apodictic, 8; insincerity (affected sanc- 2:59 THOMAS DUBAY ~ Review /or Religious tity, not practicing what he preaches), 8; lack of originality (espe-cially in illustrations and expressions), 8; too familiar, 8; watering down spiritual life, 7; slovenly at Mass, 6; no theme in the retreat, 5; late for. conferences, 5; too eager to please, 4. Subjects receiving three mentions were vagueness, rigid retreat routine, self-depreciation, effeminacy, and excessi;ce praise of sisters. Those noted twice were curiosity and p~ying, stress on unimportan.t matters, loud speaking in the convent, neglectof the liturgy; and provincialism. A few of the many items mentioned by only one sister were immaturity, use of cliches, preoccupation with a favorite subject, lack of refinement, joking about sacred things, and use of pietistic expressions. We must not fail to note that 208 sisters chose not to answer this question. While we cannot be sure just what their reasons may have been, it seems likely that some sisters simply could not recall any outstanding defects. Others may have thought it unkind or unappreciative to record defects of their retreat masters. These latter we may admire even though we, do not agree with them. Whatever the reasons may be, more sisters abstained from replying to this question than abstained from any other. In other questions thus far treated in this series of "articles, .we have given representative excerpts from the sisters' further comments, but for the present question any attempt to be really representative would far exceed the bounds of one article. We will, therefore, limit ourselves to excerpts characteristic of some of the more-frequently mentioned defects. Reading notes-- [ also do not like for the retreat master to read his conferences. He may wish to refer to notes,, but he should have his material so well at his finger tips that he cari deliver it without reading. Some are far from interesting. It is a real penance to sit through six days of listening and straining while someone drones away from some notebook. The only real dislike is toward the retreat master who rea,ds all his talks. I don't say he can't have notes, etc., but the reading of entire lectures and meditations has simply no effect. I'd rather ten minutes of a straight talk. Lack' of interest-- The worst fault is perhaps an attitude of mere tolerance of this job of giving nuns a retreat. The sooner it's over the better! Sisters look forward to their annual retreat with eager anticipation for months, and most of them really do want to progress in the spiritual life. It is a big dis-appointment when they have to listen to a retreat master who apparently does not care for this type of work. 260 September, 1956 SISTERS" RETREATS--V Conceit-- One who calls attention to himself --- the 'T'--more than necessary in conferences. Shows off his intelligence and forgets retreatants also have some. Sarcasm-- Sarcasm and ridicule of women in general and of riuns in particular. Critical negativism-- If there is any observation I should like to make it is this: whatever you can do to dissuade retreat masters for sisters from flavoring their conferences, meditations, and talks with stories exemplifying the ¢ricities and quirks of sisters--usually these apply to only a relatively few--please do . There is nothing so devas-tating and So harmful, it seems to me, than just, that t~;pe of story. If our youth-~ ful entrants grow cynical, distrustful, perhaps even weak in their vocation, may it not be because of the unwise, imprudent choice of illustrations chosen by retreat masters? True, there are odd sisters, but for every odd one, there are at last eight or more sensible, normal ones. Why select the queer and rarely allude to the truly noble and fine in every sense' of the words? Young people are shocked, and rightly so, at the strange things they sometimes hear. "It may~ be that retreat masters wish to be entertaining, amusing. But at what a cost! Ours is an age in which reverence is fast wanifig. Couldn't it help to a restoration' if retreat masters were occasionally more reverent? Tendency to overemphasize the fact that disagreements and petty jealousies do occur in religious life. We know they do, but there are plenty of sisters who are outstand-ing examples of beautiful si?terly charity as well as communities ,where the spirit of charity is outstanding. Joking manner-- What the sisters need is practical help toward sanctity . . : , but too often the" maste? uses the shell of the pulpit to reflect Father Retreat Master instead of the will of God to his listeners. This is especially true of the "joker" who uses the time for his stories and leaves the sisters with nothing to take with them except mem-ories of his cleverness. Severity.--- Pounding, scolding, and "yelling," though I don~t mind being told the truth,--- but not so loud! Lacl~ of understanding~ Sometimes the retreat master forgets that the sisters have more to do than just say their prayers. He should look into the entire picture and help both'subject and superior. Some retreats the subject gets all the corrections, and then sometimes the superior is all to blame. Why not lead all to God by charity, patience, and a. kind understanding of our difficulties? I think community life is a far happier and "homey-er" state than some retreat masters imply. After 29 years of it, under 16 different superiors, I can say I've never lived in a house where happiness and virtue didn't far outweigh human failings and "blue Mondays."--(I'm a realist, not an optimist!) 261 THOMAS DUBAY We now have the happier task of noting a few of the unsolicited compliments rciany of the sisters paid their retreat masters. To neg-lect these and dwell on defects alone would be to give the reader a badly distorted' picture of the whole situation. As is usu~ally the case in human affairs, all is neither black nor white. Among the favorable observations made, the following are characteristic. Most retreat masters are sincere, earnest, and holy. We can make allowances for lack of absolute perfection. If a retreat master is sincere and works hard I¯can't dislike much in him. I have had none whose characteristics made me.lose the value of retreats. I never really thought about this [defects], for I can truthfully say and I thank God for it, I enjoyed every one of my retreats. I learned something every time, betause I was looking for something. I have never had a dislike for a retreat master. I see in him God's messenger for my soul, who will only do his best to bring me nearer to God. I have observed no serious undesira~01e characteristics. Actually I have liked every retreat and every retreat master in my twenty years in religion. These very minor dislikes are:mentioned only to indicate how trivial are the things we let get between us and the message of the retreat. Heavens! I don't know--I've never stopped to think. I always figure the poor man is doing a job that's hard enough without our being critical; He's out to help us and we ought to help him to help us. I'm told, '~It's easier to criticize a retreat master than to be one." Most retreat masters have the necessary characteristics requisite for such important work--God bless them! And we might add: God bless these'sisters! both those who in fraternal charity pointed out defects and those who in the same charity saw none to, point out. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor ~f canon law at Woodstock College, Wood-stock,, Maryland. SISTER M.TERESITA is stationed at the Holy Family. Motherhouse, 890 Hayes Street, San Francisco, California. P. DE LETTER is a member of the faculty of St: Mary's Theological College, Kurseong N. E. Ry., India. THOMAS DUBAY teaches philosophy at the Notre Dame Seminary, 290l S. Carrolhon Ave., New Orleans, Louisiana. 262 ( ues .ions and Answers [The following answers are given" by Father Joseph F. ~allen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College. Woodstock, Maryland.] I am guiding a young man who is entering our own institute. He casu-ally remarked to me that his family wanted him to sign over his mor3ey to his brothers and sisters before entrafice. By careful questioning I learr~ed that his money amounted to several thousand dollars. Should he sign over th~s money to others before his entrance? A renunciation'is the giving away, the gratuitous, abdication of the ownership of property. An obligation is any act by which own-ership is lessened, rendered less secure, or impeded, e. g., putting up property as security for the debts of others. Can. 568 renders both illicit and invalid any renunciation or obligatmn placed on the prin-cipal of his property by a novice. The canon applies only to the noviceship, but it" is contrary to the spirit of this same law for a renunciation or obligation to be placed on the property of a candi- .date during the postulancy or before entrance becafise of the inten-tion of entering religion. The purpose of c. 568 is to protect the novice's right to. leave religion and to prevent him being, deterred from doing so because he had given away his property. This reason applies equally to the time before the noviceship. Therefore, postu-lants and candidates should in practically every case be dissuaded from any renunciation or obligation. 'The professed of simple vows may give away the income on his property even after first profession. He c6uld later ask the Holy See for permission th give away all or part of the principal of his property, if there should be real need of this; and the solemnly professed will have to give away all his prop-erty at the renunciation effective at solemn profession. Relatives are not often selfless in a case of thi~ nature. It is also at least becoming for those in or approaching the state of perfection, if they are to give away any property, to follow the counsel of perfection, which is not to give to relatives but to give to the poor. A postulant was in danger of death. Could he have been admitted to the profession that is ~ermiffed to novices in danger of death.'? A plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee is attached to the profession permitted to novices, and this profession also requires ad-mission by a higher superior, the superior of the novitiate house, or the delegate of either. This profession is restricted to novices and" 263 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revidw [or Religious may not be granted to a postulant. However, canon law does not forbid professed religious, novices, and postulants to make private vows (c. 1307, §' 2). Such vows are most rgrely advisable for them, and should never be made without consulting a confessor who is prudent and sufficiently conversant with the habitual state of soul of. the subject. There would rarely be any reason for opposing a private vow by a postulant in danger of death. Therefore, the postu-lant in danger of death can be instructed that he may, make the vows of the institute completely of his own volition. There is no ad-mission in this case on the part of superiors, and the indulgence is not attached to this profession. The essential effect of the profession granted to novices is .attained, i. e., the greater oblation of oneself to God and the co.nsolation of the postulant. In this case also, the or-dinary formula of profession of the institute "is to be used but with-out any determination of time. The implicit duration of the vows is until the postulant zecovers his health. If he does, the vows cease; and he is in exactly the same state as if he had taken no vows what-soever. Cf. Wernz-Vidal, III,.De Reli~liosis, 258-59, note 71. m32-- Is it canon law or merely our own constitutions that forbid the assign-ment of any but exempla, r¥ religious to the novitiate house? Is it always possible to observe this prohibition? Can. 554, § 3, commands higher superiors to assign only ex-emplary religious to novitiate houses. The evident reason is the in-fluence that the lives of the professed.can exert on the novices. The sense of this law is that religious who are not exemplar.y must not be assigned for habitual residence to the house in which the novitiate is located. The code presumes that ,only the master and his assist-ants will reside in the novitiate itself. In clerical institutes the same prescription of the code extends t6 houses of study. Lay i~astitutes should be directed by the same principle with regard to the houses where the professed of temporary vows reside during studies. Every effort is to be made to observe this law, of the code, but it is quite often impossible in practice to send a refractory religi0us to any house except the novitiate house. The religious' at times has to be removed from contact with externs, and even more frequently he or she simply has to be sent to a very large community. Religious of this type can make life impossible for a smaller community. In cases ¯ of this nature, superiors are to strive tO observe the purpose of the law by preventing such religious from having a harmful influence. on the novices. ' 264 September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 33 ¯ Must the nov;t;ate be located at the residence of the superior general or prov~ncla~? Neither canon law nor the practice of the Holy See in approv-ing constitutions demands that the novitiate be located at the resi-dence of the superior general or provincial. Article 88 of the Normae of 1901 contained the self-evident prescription that the novitiate wasoto be located at the place most suitable for the formation of the novices. The supervision of the higher superior can be more readily exercised when he resides at the novitiate, but the same purpose can and should be attained by more frequ.ent visits to the novitiate. --34--- Must we admit to the novlceship one who has been approved in the canonical examination of the local ordlnary~ and ~s it of" obligation that this examlnafi6n be made outside the clolster7 The canonical examination prescribed for institutes of women by can. 552 .is not admission to the noviceship or first temporary or perpetual~profession but a prerequisite for a licit admission. There-fore, a subject, who has been approved in this examination may be dismissed, excluded from further professions, or have her time of postulancy, noviceship, or temporary vows prolonged by the com-petent higher superior: The examination is to take place outside the cloister of both orders and congregations, but .any just or reason-able cause (c. 604, § 1) will suffice for holding the ~examination within the common cloister of congregations, i. e., institutes of simple vows." What is to be done ff in giving Holy Communion at the grille a Host hlls within the papal cloister of nuns? A priest may enter the cloister to pick up the Host, or a nun may pick up the Host with the paten, a clean piece of paper, or'her fingers And either consume it, if she has not already co'mmunicated, or give it to the priest. The place where the Host had fallen is after-wards to be washed by a nun, and the water is to be thrown into the sacrarium. Cf. Fanfani, De Religiosis, 460; J. O'Connell, The . Celebration of Mass, 242; De Amicis, Caerernoniale Parochorum, 181; De Herdt, Sacrae Liturgiae Praxis, II, n. 188. --36-- I asked a priest to say a votive Mass of the Annunciation of the Bless- 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for' Religious ed Virgln Mary. He told me he was not allowed to do so. What is the reason for this? Only the Masses for which permission is expressly given may be said as votive Masses of the Divine Persons, the Blessed Virgin, and the angels. This permission is verified when the Mass 'is listed as a votive Mass in the missal ~r when directions are given in the. Mass, usually after thi~ gradual, for saying it as a votive Mass. The votive Masses of the Blessed Mother universally permitted., are the five Masses of Our Lady for Saturdays according to the season, Immacu-late Conception, Seven Dolors, and Immaculate Heart. All the Masses of the Blessed Virgin in the Masses for Certain. Places may be used as votive Masses, except that of the Expectation of the Birth of Our Lord (December 18), but only in places where the festal Mass is permitted. Particular dioceses or religious institutes can also have indults to say some other Masses of the Blessed Virgin as votive Masses. A votive Mass may be said-in honor of any canon-ized saint whose name is inscribed in the Roman Martyrology, in its~approved supplements, or in tlhe calendar approved by the Holy See for any diocese, religious order, or congregation. Votive Masses may also be said for the various necessities contained in the second series of votive Masses of the missal. Cf. 3.O'Connell, "T'he Cele-bration of Mass, 68-73. --37m What is thb meaning of lay brother and la~/sister? When found, different classes of religious in the same instittite are commonly those of clerical religious and lay brothers, teaching brothers and lay brothers, choir nuns or sis~'ers and lay sisters. Lay brothers and lay sisters are sometimes called coadjutor, coadjutrix, auxiliary, and converse religious. The Latin n.ame for their class is conversi(ae). A lay brother or sister is not simply a. lay religious. All religious wo'men are lay religious, Since a lay religious is one not destined for, the priesthood. Lay brothers can be had in ~i male in-stitute in which all, the members are lay religious, e. g., in a congre-gation of teaching brothers, The class of lay brother and lay sister is distinguished ,by the following notes. There are two juridical classe's of members of distinct rights 'and obligations in the institute. The lay brother or sister is destined for domestic, manual, and tem-poral la.bors, while to the other class appertain the priestly ministry, teaching, nursing, and the formation of postulants, novices, and prbfessed. The lay brothers and sisters have no part in the govern-ment of the institute, which is reserved to the other class. Therefore, 266 September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS they cannot be voted for or appointed to any office; nor do they have a vote in any chaptbr, general, provincial, or local. In virtue of c. 526, lay sisters have a vote on prolonging the term of the ordinary confessor; but this is.not a matter of government. ~38~- We prolonged the temporary vows of a junior professed for three more years'. May we admit him to perpetual profession before the ex-plratlon of these three added years? By canon law both the postulancy and the noviceship may be prolonged but not longer than six months. This prolongation ma~ be made even if the duration of,the postulancy and noviceship is longer than the six months and the year prescribed by canon law. Some constitutions restrict prolongation, e. g., by forbidding an tension Of more than three months to a prescribed post~lancy of nine months or to a noviceship of two years. Canon law also per-mits a prolongation of temporary vows for' three years but forbids that the whole time of- any case of temporary profession, without an indu.lt from the Holy See, be more than six years. If an institute has five years of temporary vows, they are prol6ngable-only for a year; if six, they may be prolonged only by an indult from the Holy See. Prolongation of any of these probationary states is to be avoided as far as possible by a system of reports to the highe[ superior and the prompt instruction, counseling, and admonishing of the unsatis-factory subject. Prolongation is rarely found to be a satisfactory expedient except in a case such as that of health. A prolongation of any of these probationary states does not have to be made for the frill time permitted by law. Any of them may be prolonged for days, Weeks, months, and the temporary pro-fession for one or two years. ,Whether the prolongation has been made for the full time allowed or any lesser period, the competent higher superior may admit a subject who has proved himself satis- . factory before the expiration of such a period. --39m What ,is the difference between the canonical impediments that' make a noviceship ,invalid and those that render it merely illicit?. An impediment to the noviceship is a circumstance affecting a per.son that would make his novi'ceship either invalid. (diriment im-pediment) or merely illicit (merely prohibiting impediment). All religious' institutes are' obliged by the impediments of can.~ 542. Some 267 QUESTION~AND ANSWERS Review f~r" Religious institutes have additional impediments of their own constitutions. All laws of the code oblige immediately under sin. Their vio-lation is consequently a sin, at least, objectively. The common ef-fect of law is to produce a moral obligation. A law produces no other effect uialess this is certainly stated in the law. For example, ' some laws enact'a canonical penalty, such as an excommunication against a Catholic who attempts marriage before a non-Catholic minister (c. 2319, § 1, 1"). In the present inatter, a law produces only the common effect of a moral obligation when it is a merely prohibiting impediment. To be also a diriment impediment, the law must state certainly, either explicitly or implicitly, that it is an invalidating law. This i~ done explicitly by the phrases that the person is incapable of making a valid noviceship or ~afinot be validly admitted to the noviceship. Implicitly the same effect would be ex-pressed by stating that the circumstance was a diriment impediment or that no noviceship could exist because of the circumstance or by requiring a circumstance for a noviceship or a novice to exist. Invalidating ecclesiastical laws are-concerned only .with juridical acts. These are acts that effect the acquisition, change,~nd loss of rights and ol~ligafions, such as contracts, marriage, and religious pro-fession. It is impossible to invalidate a simple act of disobedience; but marriage, since it produces the rights and obligations of husband and wife, can be invalidated. Let us suppose that a religious pro-fession is invalidly made. The invalidating law does not and can-not annihilate the physical enyity of the act of l~rofession; nor can it annul the moral entity of the act, i. e., that the act was or was not knowingly and thus sinfully made contrary to law. However; the act of profession would otherwise have produced the rights and ob-ligations of the religious state. The' p.recise effect 0f the invalidating law is tO annul these rights and obligations. The one who made the profession is not a religious and h~i's none of the rights and obliga-tions of a religious. The juridical effect of a valid noviceship is to make the subject capable under this" aspect of a valid religious pro-fession; a diriment impediment not dispensed annuls this capability. Inculpable ignorance excuses from the sin but not from the invali-dating effect of a Violation of such laws. Ignorance would excuse even from the invalidity of a particular law when such a law states that ignorance has this effect (c. 16, § 1). None of the invalidating laws on the religious state admit ignorance as an excuse from the invalidating effect. ¯Religious should faithfully observe all the laws of their institute 268 $eptember, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS and especially of the Church, but the invalidating laws are to be even more carefully studied and most strict~ly observed.Very serious consequences can arise from negligence in this matter, since the in-validating laws on the religious state can quite readily cause a chain of invalidity in the institute; For example, an invalid noviceship makes all subsequent professions invalid, and a house not validly designated as a novitiate house renders all noviceships in that house invalid. These possible cases could be multiplied, and all possible cases appear to have been verified in fact. The care for the observance of. invalidating laws on the religious state rarely falls on subjects or local superiors. It.is the master of novices, higher superiors and' their councilors, and the general and provincial secretary who must take care of the observance of such laws. They should know enough canon law to recognize or at least suspect an invalidating law and they must seek competent advice in any doubtful matter. ~0-- Poverty is a constant, iproblem in our institute. The principal difficul-ties are the use of money.wlthout permission, the very frequent request to use all or part of cjiffs, the obtaining of personal necessities, practlca~ly always of better quality, from seculars, and the obtaining of money from seculars for special purposes, which appear very extraordinary to the other religious. The last two are often solicited, directly or indirectly, by the rel[glous. It is hum[llatlng to realize that this is being done, and es-pecially the last two practices cause difficulties, discontent, and 9radua| loss of observance in quite a few other religious. I am sure that, with the possible exceptlbn of rare and accidental cases, local superiors are cjen~ erous. Are there any law~. that we should add to our constitutions to strengthen the observance of poverty? The principles with regard to such practices and even thespecific practices themselves have often been treated in the REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS. It is a delusion to believe that new or added laws neces-sarily effect a renewed spiritual life. Defective laws,should b~ cor-rected; but the laws of the institute in question, as of so many others that are faced by the same problem, are not defective. The precise difficulty of many religious is that they confine their understanding and practice of poverty to the mere obligation of the vow and .of law. Superiors are to insist on the observance of both the vow\ and the laws on poverty; they are to. remember that it is easier to prevent than to eliminate abuses; and by apt ~nstruction and individual guid-ance they are to strive.to rfiake their subjects realize the purpose of poverty, without which poverty in many cases will be a matter of, 269 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoieu~ for Religious ;'what I~can get away with." The purpose of the religious life is the perfection of divine charity, and the primary purpose of the three vows of religion is to remove the chief obstacles that impede the soul from complete,love of God. The princilSal purpose therefore of tt~e vow of poverty is not mere external observance but a detach-ment from external goods that will lead to an increased love of God. Detachment here is the habitual interior state by which one uses, requests, and desires ma'terial things, not for themselves, but only in-sofar as they are necessary or useful for personal sanctification, prog-ress in that sanctification, and work. Permission is a help to the at-tainment of deta~chment, but no assurance of its acquisition. Per- .mission is highly compatible with attachment to the object permitted. It should be axiomatic that religious pove~rty is efficacious only to the degree that it effects detachment. If a religious iS not striving for detachment, poverty is contributing very little to his religious life. This purpose of povery is not commanded under sin; but a religious is grievously deceived if he does not realize that his sanctification, even after profession, is placed principally in matters of counsel. Religious poverty consequently is real and effective only in the degree that it is increasing love of God, detachment from material' things, and the ~ correlative virtues of trust in divine providence, patience, meekness, humility, and the spirit of mortification. A candidate applied for admission~ who had evidently been conceived before the marr[acje of his parents, but the parents married in the C~hurch before his birth. Is he lecjitlmat~? A legitimate child is one either conceived or born of a valid or a putative marriage (c. 1114). It is therefore not necessary that a Child be both conceived and born of such a ¯marriage, but either con-ception or birth is sufficient. This child was born of a valid mar-riage and is consequently legitimate. ¯ If'will be clearer to put the present question in the form of'a case with fictitious names. Irwin, a Gatholic, attemp÷ed marFiacje with an Episcppalian, before an Episcopalian minister. A daughter, Jane, was born to the couple a year later. The marrlacje was ne~;er ¢onvalidated in the Gathloi¢ Church. 'Irwin has always been certain ofthe invalidity" of his marriacje, but Irma has never had a doub~ about its validity. -Jane has olways been a C~athollc and wishes to enter relicjion. Is she lecjitim~te? 270 " September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS A child is legitimate if conceived or born °either from a valid or from a putative marriage. A putative marriage is an invalid mar-riage, but at the time of the celebration at least one of the parties believed'the marriage valid. It is sufficient that a non-Catholic party be the one in good faith. (Cf. Vlaming-Bender, Praelectiones Iuris Matrimonii, 45-46; Woywood-Smith, A Practical Commentary, I, 646.) This good faith required in at least one of the parties means that such a party at the time of the celebration either had no doubt about the validity; or, if there was such a doubt, it was proportion-ately investigated. If such anlnvestigation was neglected, the party was not in good faith. The marriage remains putative until both parties are certain of its invalidity. A child either conceived or both while the marriage is putative is legitimate and remains so forever, even though later both parties become certain of the invalidity. A putative marriage can occur, when the invalidating .cause is el}her a defect of consent or a diriment impediment not dispensed. On January 26, 1949, the Code Commission gave an au.thentic inter-- pretation, whose sense is that a .marriage attempted completely with-out canonical form cannot be puta, tive if at least one of the parties is held to c~nonical form. Canonical form consists in the presence of a competent priest and at least two witnesses. As a Catholic, Irwin was held to canonical form; and his marriage with'Irma before an Episcopalian minister was attempted completely without ~canoniCal form. Therefore, the marriage cannot be putative; and Jane is iilegitimate. --43m Does the impediment of a religious profession effect one ~vho left after profe~slon and later wishes to be readmiffed to the, same institute? This diriment impediment of can. 542, 1 °, reads: "Those who ~ire or were bound by religious profession." The language of the canon is absolute and i.s to be understood absolutely. The impediment )herefore is verified in those who. are now bound or at any time in the past were bound by valid religious vows, sOlemn or simple, per-~ petual or temporary, iri the same or a different institute, whet,her an order or a pontifical or diocesan congregation. The iNpediment does not affect , those who were merely novices or postulants in any re, ligious institute, nor novices who were admitted to profession in dan-ger of death, nor finally anyone who was a member of a society of common life without public vows or of a secular institute. How-ever, m~iny institutes have a merely, prohibitive impediment of their own constitutions with regard to.those whd were novices or pos~u~- 271 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS lants in another, religious institute, which some extend also to those who had been nox;ices or postulants in the same religious institute. The impediment is dispensable. Greater care is to be exercised in this case to secure assurance of a religious vocation. The departure from ,,another institute is, generally speaking, a strong argument against the presence of a religious vocation. The petition should give the circumstances and reasons for the departure, i. e., the name of the 6ther institute, of what vows the candidate was professed, how long, and whether the departure was voluntary or by exclusion at the end of temporary vows, by secularization, or dismissal. The reasons for the departure should be given truthfully arid completely. Should novices be separated from the postulants? Canon law does not command the separatioh of the novices and postulants. Constitutions of lay congregations approved by the Holy See after 1901 are based in great part on the Normae of 1901. Article 64 of these Normae prescribed such a separation when this could be conveniently accomplished. Some institutes have such a prescription in their constitutions, due either to the influence of the Nor.maeor to the fact that these institutes believe separation to be more conducive to the religious formation of both novices and postulants. What does canon law command about the place of postulancy? Can. 540, § 1, commands that the postulancy be made in the novitiate ,house or in another house of the institute where the religious discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed. The canon does not forbid the distribution of the postulants in many houses of the institute nor the repeated transfer of a postulant from one house to another. Experience, however, 'more than fully dem-onstrates that it is far more preferable for the postulancy to be made , in the novitiate house. It can be taken as a thorotighly sound and general practical principle that the effect o,f separation from the master of novices or postulants is little instruction 6r formation in the religious li~e. A small number of congregations have wisely pre-scrib, ed that the postulants must spend two complete months in the novitiate house before their entrance into the noviceship when the earlier part of the postulancy has been made outside the novitiate house. 272 (Material for this department should ,be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs~ Indiana.) THE MIND OF THE CHURCH IN THE FORMATION OF SISTERS. Se-lectlbns from Addresses Given durln9 the Six Regional Conferences and the First National Meeting of the Sister Formation Conference, 19S4-19SS. Pp. 282. Fordham University Press, New York. 19S6. $3.00 This book is another milestone in the Sister Formation move, menL The inspiration of the movement was the address of Plus XII at the first International Congress of Teaching Sisters in September, 1951. The Holy Father dxhorted the ~ sisters to make all of their schools excellent, to make sure that the education of sister teach-ers corresponds in quality and academic degrees to that demanded by the state, and to adapt themselves to new conditions. "You," he added, "must serve the cause of Jesus Christ and of His Church as the world t~oday requires." The movement was inf~rmally laurlched at the Kansas City NCEA convention in 1952 when a ggoup of sisters was authorized .to survey the current status of sister education in the United States. ,The findings of the survey underscored three major problems of sister education: (!) the. needed time for sisters to complete a bachelor's degree program and state certification requirements beford entering the classroom, (2) the resources (financial and academic) necessary for this adeq
Issue 25.5 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Mal~ Religious in Past and Present by Maurice A. ROche, C.M. 749 Updating the Cloister by Sister Teresa Margaret, O.C:D. 770 ' Directed vs. Preached.Retreats by Ladislas M. Ors,2, S.J. 781 The Religious Teacher by Sister M. Fredericus, O.P. 797 The Woman Religious and Leadership by William J. Kelly, S.J. 814 Retreat: Dialogue or Silence? by Ambrose de Groot, O.F.M.Cap. 828 A Pastoral Theology Program by Gerald G. Daily, S.J. 836 The Eucharist as Symbolic Reality by J. P. de Jong 853 Retreat or Community Experience by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. 860 The Problem of Vitality by John Carmody, S.J. 867 D, irection and the Spiritual Exercises by Daniel J. Shine, S.J. 888 Poems 897 Survey of Roman Documents 899 Views, News, Previews 906 Questions and Answers 909 Book Reviews 925 VOLUM~ 25 NUMBER 5 September 1966 Notice to Subscribers Because of constantly increasing costs, REVIEW FOR RELK;IOUS finds it necessary to increase the cost of its individual issues as well as of its sub-scriptions. The new rates, effective in 1967, will be the following: (l) Individual issues of the REVIEW will cost one dollar; this price will apply not only to all issues beginning with 1967 but also to all previously published issues. (2) Subscriptions in the United. States, Canada, and Mexico will cost $5.00 per year; $9.00 for two years. (3) Subscriptions to other countries will cost ~;5.50 per year; ~;10.00 for two years. (4) All the above prices are in terms of U.S.A. dollars; accordingly all payments must be made in U.S.A. funds. These prices will affect all individual issues sold on or after January 1, 1967. The new subscription prices will be applicable to all subscriptions-- new and renewed---beginning with the January, 1967, issue of the REVIEW. MAURICE A. ROCHE; C.M. The Male Religious in Past and Present What is the perfect Christian life? Can it be lived? If so, how? Does it entail the transformation of all human society? Can in-dividuals be immersed in a prevailingly or partially un-Christian society without compromising their principles and be fully Christian? To be fully Christian, is it necessary to withdraw from society? If so, must one live alone, or must those intent on the complete Christian life seek it in.community with othersP These and similar questions have been asked by zeal-ous Christians and by the Church herself since the time of Christ. According to the circumstances of time and place, the answer of the Church has varied. This article will treat in summary form the major manifestations of the "perfect life" as .they have appeared in the Western part of the Catholic Church during the past nineteen hundred years. As with most 'institutions in the Church, both the idea and practice of: the religious life developed rather slowly. Some of the elements of the religious life, for example, common purse, existed among the disciples even during the lifetime of Christ.2 Shortly after Pentecost at least some of the disciples gave all their possessions to the p0or.s In the First Epistle to the Corinthians (written about the year 57), St. Paul talks about the concern of a Christian father for his virgin daughter;4 presumably the motive for her virginity was a religious one. ÷ During ,the first two centuries, the life of perfection was lived within the family circle; domestic asceticism + was the rule. Given the small number of Christians in a pagan society, no othel- solution seemed feasible. Such persdns engaged in ordinary employments; each local church usuall~ had a number of these "continentes" ; ampton, 1 Kenneth S. Latourette, .4 History ol Christianity (New York: vania 18967. H~rper ~nd Row, 1953), p. 221. =Jn 13529. VOLUME 25, 1966 ' 1 Cor 7:36-8. 749 Father Maurice A. Roche, C.M., is a faculty member of Mary Immaculate Seminary; North- Pennsyl- + ÷ ÷ M. A. Roche, .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 750 and "virgines." They formed a sort of spiritual aristoc-racy and occupied special places in the church. These primitive ascetics differed in many respects from the later religious: no special ceremony marked their entrance into the ascetical life; they wore no distinctive clothing; they did not live in community (though they might fre-quently assemble for mutual encouragement); they did not abstain from ordinary employment; they did not devote themselves as a matter of course or in .any special way to the corporal works of mercy. This mode of striv-ing for perfection has never died out in the Church; every parish still has its group of unmarried women who work for a living and are exceptional for their piety. About the middle of the third century there arose in Egypt the institution of monasticism. Authors have ad-vanced various reasons to explain its development in this place at this time. (a) Pagan Egypt had a strain of .mysticism in it. (It was in Alexandria that Ammonius Saccas [d. 245] had founded Neoplatonism.) Thus the Egyptian people were not entirely unprelSared for this mode of life which purported to lead to mystical union with God. (b) The desert wastes of Egypt made it easy to find solitude. Food and water were a constant problem of course, but the hot dry climate simplified the matter of clothing, shelter; and so forth. (c) The Decian persecution (249-251) was particularly thorough in Egypt and the desert offered a safe refuge. Some, driven out of the cities by the persecutors, sought refuge in the wilderness, liked the solitude, and remained there. Each of the above statements is true, and probably each contributed in some way to the growth of monasti-cism. They seem, however, to be occasions rather than causes. The basic cause for going to and remaining in the desert was the desire to live completely for God, a desire that was difficult of fulfillment in the still pagan atmosphere of the cities. Some ascetics had previously attempted to live in seclusion on the outskirts of the in-habited areas; this halfway measure proved in the main unworkable, and so the more zealous among them aban-doned the dwelling of men completely. Traditionally, the first hermit was St. Paul of Thebes (228-340) who fled to a remote mountain during the Decian persecution. St. Antony (250-356) was for a time a solitary hermit, but eventually a group of disciples gathered about him. Basically, these men were still her-mits, each living in his own ceil, giving hihaself to pri-vate prayer, reading, and manual work. Occasional dis-courses by St. Antony (and perhaps Mass) were the only occasions on which silence was broken. St. Antony was at heart a hermit, yet the needs of the Church twice called him to the active life. In 311 he left his retreat in order to encourage the victims of the persecution of Maximin, and about 338 he quitted his solitude in order to confer with St. Athanasius on means to defeat the Arian heresy. Between these two dates the desert had flowered: in the ),ear 325 the Nitrian Desert alone counted some five thousand men dedicated to God. Five years before this, another manifestation of the perfect life had appeared in Egypt: cenobitism, of which St. Pachomius (d. 348) is considered the initiator. His followers were not solitary hermits, nor were they inde-pendent hermits joined together by an accident of loca-tion; rather, they lived in common in subjection to ~he rule of the superior or abbot. Unlike some solitaries who neglected the sacraments, the Pachomian monks took part in Mass twice weekly, at one of which celebrations they communicated. The Pachomian rule tended to moderate some of the corporal austerities of the hermits, but it was withal quite severe. St. Pachomius was, it seems, the first to draw up a rule for monks. The great codifier of Eastern monasticism was not 'he, however, but St. Basil the Great (329-379). To his personal sanctity and firsthand experience with the dangers and advantages of monasticism, he added familiarity with the~ problems of rule, the grace of the episcopal office, a good education, and a keen intellect. His rule became the norm for Eastern monasticism, and in its broad lines at least is still followed today. More to our purpose, however, St. Basil's rule had an effect on the rule drawn up by St. Benedict in the sixth century. Before leaving the East completely, reference should be made at least in passing to the pillar saints, of whom the most famous was St. Simeon Stylites (d. 459). This singular expression of the perfect life had a brilliant but short-lived existence. Up until this time, monasticism had not developed much in the West. For the most part an importation from the East, it was, like much Eastern food, too highly seasoned for. the Western man: it did not suit Western climate, Western mentality, or Western man. Mention Should be made, however, of those who were more or less successful in forming monasteries after the Eastern fash-ion: Saints Hilary (315-367), Martin (c. 315-c. 399), Am-brose (339-397), Jerome (c. 347-419 or 420), Honoratus (c~ 350-430); and John Cassian (c. 360-c. 430).5 St. Augus-tine of ~Hippo (354-430) lived a common life with his clergy, but these were (to use a later terminology) can-ons regular rather than monks. ,~ Cassian is not usually recognized as a saint; this is probably a re-sult of his views in what has come to be known as the semi-Pelagian controversy. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ M~ A. Roche,~ C.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 752 By the end of the fifth century, monasticism, already firmly established in the East, had begun to sink roots in the West, although its exact form had not yet been definitively established. Over the years monasticism would undergo many changes in the West; "but in its various ramifications it was to be the main channel through which new bursts of life were to find expression in the various churches which conserved' the traditions of the Catholic Church of the Roman Empire," ~ The institution had already been in existence over two hun-dred years by the time St. Benedict of Nursia (480-550) was born; the number of monasteries varied greatly from place to place at this date in the Ctiristian West, but the institution as such had gained ac.ceptance in the minds of men. The work of St. Benedict was not pre-cisely to introduce a completely new organism into the Western Church; it was more to reform and adapt an existing institution so that it might be viable and useful in his time and place. In drawing up his rule, St. Bene-dict apparently took the rule of St. Basil as a model, though he did not imitate it slavishly; rather, he modi-fied it in order to suit the needs of himself and of his followers. The judgment of Latourette on St. Benedict's rule is worth noting: ~ The rule of Benedict became standard in the West, probably because of i~s intrinsic worth. Pope Gregory the Great did much to give it popularity. It was taken to Britain by missionaries sent by Gregory from: Rome . In the seventh century it began to gain in Gaul. Charlemagne admired it and furthered its adop-tion. By the latter part,of the eighth century it was generally ac, cepted. No central organization existed for its enforcement and to bring uniformity. Each monastery was independent of ~very other." Modifications might and often were made in the rule by individual houses. Yet it became the model from which many other rules stemmed. In an age of disorder the Benedictine monasteries were centres of quiet and orderly livfng, communities where prayer, work, and study were the custom, and that in a society where prayer was ignored or was regarded as magic to be practised for selfish ends, where work was despised as servile, where even princes were .illiterate, where war was chronic. ,.Like other monastic establishments, Benedictine foun~lations tended' to decline from the high ideals setby the rule. Many were heavily endowed and in numbers of them life became easy and at times sCa'ndalous. When awakenings occurred, they often took the form of a re-turn to the rule or its modification in t.he direction of greater austerity. Even when the rule was strictly observed, the mon-astertes were self-centered and were not concerned with the sal-vation of the so~:iety about them, except to draw individuals from it into their fellowship.' Hdwever., the missionaries of the e Latourette, History o[ Christianity, p. 233. ' As it stands, this sentence is far too sweeping. The monks at this time (outside of mission lands) did not engage in parochial wo~'k; but the monastic priests did not refuse their ministration to those lay Western Church were predominantly monks. It was chiefly through them, although often at the initiative and under the protection of lay princes, that the faith was carried beyond its existing frontiers. Later, moreover, monks of the Benedictine rule became prominent in the general life of the Church and of the community as a whole,s The life [in the monastery] was orderly but was not unduly severe and was probably more comfortable than was that of the great masses of the population. Clothing and meals were simple but adequate, and special provision was made for the ill, the aged, the very young, and those doing heavy manual labour. There was to be fasting at regular times, but this was not the kind practised by the extreme ascetics . Much weight was given to humility. Provision was made for various degrees of discipline, from private admonition to physical punishment, ex-communication, and as a final resort, expulsion. The entire round of twenty-four hours was provided for, with eight services, one every three hours, and with .periods for sleep, including a rest early in the afternoon, for eating, and for labour . Silence was encouraged and was the rule at meals and after compline. . Stress was placed on worship b.y the entire community and directions were given for the services. There was a place for priests, for they were needed to say mass, but they were to obey the rule as fully as the lay monks. The rule was wisely designed for a group of men of various ages living together in worship and in work for the cultivation of the full Christian life as it was con-ceived by the monk? The spirit of the rule is perhaps best summed up by its author in the prologue when he wrote: Therefore we must establish a school of the Lord's service, in founding which we hope to ordain nothing that is harsh or burdensome?° Dorn David Knowles writes: ¯. if the Rule holds within it so much of th~ wisdom and ex-perience of the past, its anticipation of the needs of the future is even more striking. The ancient world, with its city life, its great seats of culture, its graded society and its wide and rapid means of communication, was rapidly disappearing. In the new world that was coming into being, the estate, the village, the district were the units; Europe, from being a single complex organism was becoming an aggregate of cells, bound to one an-other by the loosest of ties. St. Benedict lived in a society where the scope and opportunities of education, secular and theologi-cal, were yearly narrowing, and in which the numbers of the people who sought it. The monks also wrote works for the edification of the faithful and furthered the development of theology¯ Moreover, their example of selfless devotion to God had a salutary impact even on those who did not become monks themselves¯ Finally, an important part of the religious life was prayer for the benefactors, for the local clergy, for the civil government, for the conversion of pagans, and so forth. Even the most cloistered monk was solicitous for the salvation of the society about him. s Latourette, History o] Christianity, pp. 335-6. 9 Ibid¯, pp. 33,1-5. l° Justin McCann, "The Rule of St. Benedict," cited in Colman Barry, Readings in Church History, v. 1 (~Vestminster: Newman, 1960), p. 168. 4- 4- 4- The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 4" M, ,4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS educated were yearly lessening; a socie(y in.which the family, the farm;the estate was strong--a society continually threatened with extinction., by invasion, or (with) chaos, and which therefore needed above all some clear, simple, basic principles to which it might hold and rally . This suitability to the needs of the time was met at every level of life, by the monastery of the Kule . Only in the early centuries or backward countries of medieval times could such a community continue to be a norm, and it did not, in fact, long endure in its original com-prehensiveness . A full acknowledgment of the unique ex-cellence of the Ruie does not imply that it had no limitations. Such are inevitable in every code that bears the stamp of time and place . ~ Benedictinism was not without rivals in the West. There were the Eastern-type monasteries founded before the time of St. Benedict, most if not all of which were within the then existing boundaries of the Roman Em-pire. 12 Of more importance and more influence were the Celtic monasteries initiated both before and after the lifetime of the saint of Nursia. For the most part these monasteries were located in regions that had never been or were not at the time of foundation within the. con-fines of the Empire. This Celtic monasticism was il-lumined by a galaxy of brilliant saints like Columkil (521-597) and Columban (540-615), the latter of whom composed the rule that bears his name. Much shorter than the Benedictine rule, the Columban rule Was Orien-tal in spirit. (This is not so strange as it may at first appear: St. Patrick had been formed to the religious life in the Eastern-type Abbey of Lerins founded by St. Honoratus about 400 A.D. and the influence of, the East had remained strong among the Celtic Christians.) The Celtic rule was very severe: hours of prayer and of work were multiplied; discipline was strict, with corporal pun-ishment meted out even for slight faults,' Columban monks went to England and to the continent in great numbers and started monasteries--such as Ltixeuil, Bob-bio, and Saint Ga!l--which were of great importance in the Middle Ages. The C61umban rule produced spiritual giants; but conversely, it was made only for spiritual giants, not for ordinary men. By what seems to us a strange quirk, this very strict rule allowed great freedom ~Dom David Knowles, The Monastic Order in England (2nd ed~; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1963), pp. 9-11. = No one rule predominated here. Rufinus had translated and abridged the rule of St. Basil; St. Jerome had put the rule of St. Pachomius 'into Latin. Some in the West drew up new rtiles: St. Honoratus of Lerins gave out certain constitutions which are no longer extant; we do, however, possess the Regula ad monachos and the Regula ad virgines of St. Caesarius of Aries (469-542) and also rules by Aurelianus, bishop of Aries from 546 to 551. See P. de Labriolle et al., "De la mort de Th~odose h l'fiiection de Gr~goire le Grand," v. 4 of Histoire de l'Eglise, ed. by Fliche and Martin (Paris: Bloud and Gay, 1948), p. 592. of travel, and this sometimes led to disorder. For a while both the Benedictine and Columban rules existed over large portions of Western Europe; but eventually the Celtic Rule was forced to yield: in England at the Synod of Whitby in 664, in the Frankish Empire at the Synod of Autun in 670. Only in Ireland.did the Celtic Rule manage to endure. Even there it was eventually replaced, though by the stricter Cistercian Rule rather than by the Benedictine Rule strictly so-called. Even in defeat the austere:Irish monks won half a victory. , The character of Western monasticism, influenced.to some degree by St. Columban, was affected even more by the saint'g Italian contemporary, Pope St. Gregory I (540-604). About the year 575, he converted his parental home on the Caelian Hill into a monastery (St. An-drew, s), and there lived as a simple monk until chosen abbot in 585. The, regime at St. Andrew's was Benedic-tine in spirit; perhaps it even followed the Rule of St. Benedict explicitly. At any rate, St. Gregory was himself formed according to the Benedictine ideal. Chosen as bishop of Rome in 590, six or seven years later he sent St. Augustine and other monks from St. Andrew's to evangelize" the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes in present-day England. His use of monks as missionaries undoubtedly effected a notable change in the Character of Western monasticism. Up until his time, Benedictinism had been basically a lay movement. In the mission lands, clergy were needed; and so most of the missionary monks re-ceived ordination. By the end of the Carolingian era, the great majority of monks were priests. Besides con-tributing to the clericalization of the monasteries, the missionary movement also fostered an activist strain in Western monasticism. From time to time this tendency would become prominent in the West; it is the more noticeable because such external work is much less en-couraged in Eastern monasticism. As the number of clerical monks increased, manual labor was relegated to servants, and the liturgy was lengthened. In 817 St. Benedict of Aniane attempted a monastic confederation, but feudal disorders hindered his work. The last half of the ninth and the first half of the tenth centuries were periods of great disorder in the civil and religious fields. Civil wars; invasions by Northmen, Muslim, Magyars; lay patronage; and so forth contributed to the breakdown of civil government, to the physical destruction of numerous monasteries, and to the relaxing of morals, both within and without the monasteries. In the second half of the tenth century, a great re-awakening occurred in the Western Church. Of major importance was the reform of Cluny, initiated by. its ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mal.e,~Re.ligious VOLUME 25~ 1966 M. A. Roche, C.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS first abbot, St. Berno (850-927) in 910 and continued for some two and one half centuries by a series of outstand-ing and long-lived successors. An important innovation in the Cluniac reform was its centralizing tendency. Dur-ing the years after 910, many monasteries placed them-selves under the aegis of Cluny. The Cluniac regulations as eventually in force under St. Odilo (abbot from 994 to 1049) suppressed the title of abbot for heads of sub-ordinate houses; in charge of these lesser foundations were priors, subjected to the sole rule of the abbot of Cluny. By the beginning of the twelfth century, the num-ber of subordinate houses had risen to three hundred, the number of monks to ten thousand. Next to Rome, Cluny was regarded as the ecclesiastical center of Europe. Equally important to the monastic renewal was a movement, largely successful, to free the monasteries from the control of local lay lords and diocesan bishops. This question of exemption is a very involved affair, but it seems good to present a summary of the chief develop-ments in order that we may view with objectivity the events of the tenth and later centuries.13 The early monks, usually far removed from the cities (and from the bishops resident there), tended to develop independently of the hierarchy. The cenobitic life, more-over, demands a certain independence for the superior, or else he is superior in name only and powerless to lead his monks. Hence a certain tension developed between the legitimate abbatial desire for independence, and the likewise legitimate episcopal concern lest diocesan dis-cipline be subverted. The oldest extant conciliar legislation regarding monks and domestic ascetics goes back to the fourth century. The Council of Gangra in Paphlagonia (c. 340- 350) issued a series of anathemas against false ascetics; a council at Saragossa (380) speaks of the cleric who be-came a monk out of a spirit of pride and makes provi-sion for religious profession and veiling of virgins.14 Im-portant here is the fourth canon of the Council of Chalcedon (451): Those who lead a true and sincere monastic life ought to en-joy due honor. Since, however, there are some who, using the monastic state as a pretext, disturb the churches and the affairs of state, roam about aimlessly in the cities, and even undertake to establish monasteries for themselves, it is decided that no one shall build or found a monastery or a house of prayer without the consent of the bishop of the city. It is de.cided furthermore that all monks in every city and country place shall be subject to 13 The following remarks on exemption are taken for the most part from E. Fogliasso, "Exemption des religieux," Dictionnaire de droit canonique, v. 5, col. 646-51. 1, Hefele-Leclercq, Histoire des Conciles, v. 1.2 (Paris: 1907), pp. 1029-45; 986-7. the bishop, that they love silence and attend only to fasting and prayer, remaining in the places in which they renounced the world; that they shall not leave their monasteries and burden themselves either with ecclesiastical or worldly affairs or take part in them unless they are commissioned to do so for some necessary purpose by the bishop of the city; that no slave shall be received into the monasteries and become a monk without the consent of his master. Whosoever transgresses this decision of ours shall be excommunicated . ~ Though the text seems to subject the monks without any restriction to the local bishop, E. Fogliasso comes to a different conclusion. In his opinion, the council merely stated the general principle that monks are sub-ject to the bishop but did nothing to revoke the various customs which in practice limited episcopal control, The council did not annul the authority of abbots, nor did it reserve to the bishop the choice of the abbot, nor did it regulate the administrative relations between monastery and diocese; all of these continued in the same way as beforehand. In short, .relations between bishop and monks were not yet precisely regulated. The Council of Chalcedon had dealt chiefly with problems of the East rather than of the West, and there were comparatively few Western bishops in attendance. Hence the canons did not impress the Western bishops with their urgency; just four years after Chalcedon a council was held in Aries which, among other concerns, regulated the relations of bishop and monks. Without saying so in so many words, the council in effect held that the bishop was to regulate the external activities of the monks, while the monks were independent of the bishop in their internal affairs. This division of control (which later became normative in the West) was not ac-cepted everywhere immediately. Some particular coun-cils, especially the African, gave to the monks a very great liberty; other councils subjected the monks more strictly to the bishop. With St.: Gregory I, the concept of the regimen inter-num became more precise. St. Gregory desired that the internal independence of the monasteries be preserved, particularly in the choice of the abbot and in temporal administration. A short time later, in 628 to be exact, Pope Honorius I (625-638) went much further: he re-moved the monastery of Bobbio (founded near Milan in 613 by the wandering Celt St. Columban) completely from the jurisdiction of the local ordinary. Monasteries in Benevento (714 and 741) and Fulda (751) were granted exemptio.n by the Apostolic See in the next century. About this time, another current of events was leading a~ H. H. Schroeder, Disciplinary Decrees o] the General Councils (St. Louis: Herder, 1937), p. 92. -I. ÷ ÷ The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 757 ÷ + + to or at least facilitating exemption from the bishop: the so-called "gift to St. Peter." 16 Pious laics would found a monastery and then give it to St. Peter, repre~ sented by his vicar in Rome. The prestige of the Apostle and of his vicar were so great, it was hoped, that no king, bishop, or lesser person would dare seize the foundation for his own ends. A few examples of this occur in Italy in the eighth century; in the ninth cen-tury, the custom crossed over the Alps.17 In this period, too, certain lay persons were persuaded to abandon the dominium that they had acquired over religious houses. In virtue of this and in virtue of the above mentioned donation to St. Peter, many monasteries succeeded in avoiding or in freeing themselves from lay control. This independence from local lay control must have also en-couraged the monks to seek exemption from the reli-gious control of the local ordinary. After this long digression to obtain the background, we return to Cluny; at its foundation in 910 it was do-nated to St. Peter; a few years later (912) it was given exemption from episcopal authority by Pope Anastasius III. This exemption it communicated to all the monas-teries subject to it, in virtue of a special papal concession given in order that the reform work of Cluny might be furthered. Toward the end of the tenth century, the question of exemption became more difficult. Many monks felt that the local bishop was not respecting their rights: he would demand the fulfillment of unjust and unreason-able conditions before he would perform the services for which only he had the power and jurisdiction. The bishops on the other hand claimed that the monks were exceeding their rights and privileges: disparaging the prelates, absolving from censures when they had no au-thority to do so, and so forth. In the pontificate of Pope Gregory V (996-999), exemptions multiplied both in number and in extension. Cluny was the beneficiary of further privileges: no one, not even the local ordinary, could enter the monastery to ordain without the permis-sion of the abbot, and the abbot could invite any bishop to ordain his men without even consulting the ordinary of the place. As a result of these and similar privileges, the great abbeys succeeded from the beginning of the eleventh century in freeing themselves completely from the authority of the diocesan bishop. This exemption soon characterized all the monastic orders. ¯ M. A. Roche~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 Emile Amann, "L'Eglise au pouvoir des laics," in v. 7 of Fliche- Martin's Histoire de l'Eglise (Paris: Bloud and Gay, 1948), pp. 343-64. 1~ It should be noted that this donation referred to the temporalities of the abbey; it had nothing to do with withdrawing the monastery from the spiritual jurisdiction of the local ordinary. Other centrally organized Benedictine groups came into existence after Cluny: the Camaldolese founded about 1015 by St. Romuald (950-1027); the Vallombro-sians begun about 1038 by St. John Gualbert (958- 1073). Distinct from these were the more eremitical Carthusians initiated about 1084 by St. Bruno (1030- 1101); to them Innocent XI in 1688 gave the supreme compliment: "Cartusa nnmqnam reformata, quia num-quam deformata." In the twelfth century, the leadership in vigorous, creative monastic life passed from Cluny to Citeaux, established in 1098 by St. Robert (1029-1111). The dis-tinctive features of this new Benedictine movement in-cluded: (a) white rather than black habits; (b) a strong insistence on the observance of poverty; (c) the establishment of monasteries far from the haunts of men; (d) a lessening of liturgical prayer and an increase of private prayer; and (e) a provision for uniting all the houses together into an integrated order, the first of its kind and precur-sor of many others. The houses of the older Cluniac reform were theo-retically under the control of the motherhouse, but they soon became too numerous for one abbot to rule. In the Cistercian system each monastery retained a large degree of autonomy, but there were also certain unify-ing factors. Identical service books were provided for all houses; each abbey was visited annually by the abbot of Citeaux or by the abbot of one of the four other oldest foundations (La Ferte, Pontigny, Clairvaux,18 Mori-mond); every year all the abbots assembled at Citeaux in a general chapter in order to maintain unity and mu-tual charity and to take such legislative and disciplinary actions as might be necessary. The Cistercians are usu-ally credited with the introduction (or better, reintro-duction) of laymen into the monastery. In Cluny and its dependent houses, all monks were clerics and took part in choir; manual labor was done by serfs. The Cister-cians admitted to tI~e habit such as were nnwilling or unable to become choir monks. These non-choral reli-gious were called "conversi" or lay brothers; they did the manual work of the monastery and were complete though subordinate members of the monastic family. Though Citeaux at first refused exemption from episcopal authority, it later accepted that privilege. As with Cluny, the primitive fervor of the Cistercians is Clairvaux was made famous by its abbot St. Bernard (1090-1153), the most influential ecclesiastic of his time. The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 759 4. 4. 4. M. ~. Roche, .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '760 gradually waned. The downfall of the order has been attributed to internal disorder around the beginning (1378) of the Great,Western .Schism; self-willed abbots abused local autonomy, capitulated to national differ-ences, and allowed frequent exceptions to the rule. Learning came into prominence, flesh meat was allowed, wealth .and pomp entered in. Efforts to restore pristine observance broke dowm with the cessation of general chapters in 1411 during the Great Western Schism. The order later split into congregations more or less dis-tinct. ; Thus far this article has limited itself to the monastic life. It should be noted that the influence of the monastic life upon the non-religious clergy has been profound. It is perhaps not too much to say that clerical celibacy be-came morally necessary in the West in order to main-tain the prestige of the parochial clergy against odious comparison with monks. The more zealous ~ among the non-monastic clergy have always been eager to borrow such elements of religious observance as would be com-patible with their duties. It may be that the direct in-fluence of the Cluniac reform upon the secular clergy has been exaggerated; but undoubtedly the spiritual success, of Cluny suggested the advantage of cooperative effort in promoting one's individual holiness and~ in furthering reform on a broader scale. Up until the time of Gregory the Great, it will be recalled, monasticism was chiefly ~a lay movement; few clerics were involved. The only place in which there was a number of clerics was in the city, for only the city needed the services of more than a few ministers. Those clerics who lived together in a city under a rule (usually with their bishop at the head) were' not known as monks; later they would be known as canons regular. The credit for organizing the first body of ministers in the common life is usually given to St. Eu~ebius of Vercelli (d. c. 370), though the influence of St. Augustine (354- 430) in this field was much more profound. At the time of the barbarian invasions, the canonical life as well as many other Christian practices suffered greatly; in fact the next great man whose name is strongly associated with the canonical life is St. Chrodegang of Metz (700- 786), who is considered the proximate founder of the canonical life in the Teutonic West.19 His ideal was to lOThe canons were distinguished from the monks by their es-sentially pastoral orientation, The canon was basically a member of the pastoral clergy who followed a rule and lived in common with others of like mind in order to sanctify himself and to make.his work mo~e effective. The monk, on the other hand, became a monk not in order to minister but in order to seek God; if he later became a priest and did work among the people, this was not an essential part of his vocation as a monk. combine the apostolate to the laity with the practice of monastic asceticism; he therefore adapted the rule of St. Benedict to the life of the parochial clergy, prescrib-ing a common dwelling, common table, and common dormitory. Chanting of the Divine Office was to take place at fixed hours. It is uncertain why these men were called "canons." Perhaps it was because their names were inscribed on a "canon", that is, on a list; or maybe because they re-citedthe horae canonicae; maybe because they lived ac-cording to a canon or rule. Their institute was especially (and perhaps uniquely) suited to churches where many priests were attached. Though the institution of canons did considerable good for'a while, it had within itself a cancer which would destroy it: the absence of a rule of poverty. Archbishop Gunther of Cologne about the middle of the ninth century authorized his canons to use and administer the ecclesiastical revenues at will, and very soon the common life ended for those canons. Other groups of canons followed the example of Co-logne, and by the end of the ninth century there were few canons still living the common life. Those canons who lived in private dwellings but still were attached to the cathedral or collegiate churches came to be known as secular canons (which is almost a contradiction in terms); those canons who continued to live the common life were known as regular canons (which is almost redundant). In the eleventh and twelfth centuries there occurred a great revival among the canons, as elsewhere in the Church; in many secu-larized cathedral and collegiate chapters, canonici saecu-lares began to live the common life again and thus be-came canonici regulares2°. The best known group of canons regular are the Premonstratensians~ founded about 1120 by St. Norbert (1080-1134). They remained subject to the local bishop, rejecting all exemption un-til the fifteenth century. A second group is the Canons Regular of St. Victor, formed in 1108 by William of Champeaux (1071-1121). There were in addition many loosely knit bodies of Canons Regular of Saint Augustine, usually of diocesan proportions; they numbered some four hundred housesby the sixteenth century.21 The age of the Crusades produced the next species of religious observance: the military orders, which com-bined practices of the monastic life (including the three vows) with the chivalry of knighthood. The government ~o Karl Bihhneyer, Church History, trans. Victor E. Mills, v. 2 (Westminster: Newman, 1963), p. 222. ~The Canons Regular of St. Augustine are to be distinguished from the Hermits of St. Augustine later fused by papal authority into the Augustinian Friars. 4. 4. 4- The Male Religious VOLUME 25, ~966 761 ÷ ÷ ÷ M. A. Roche, C.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 762 of these military orders was,, as may be expected, strongly centralized; only the general chapter could limit the power.0f the grand master. The Knights of St. John or Hospitalers were organized around a hospital in Jeru-salem by a knight named Gerard (d. c. 1120). Succes-sively removed to Rhodes and Malta, they still survive. The Knights Templar were formed at Jerusalem in II19 ,by Hugh of Payens and seven other French knights. Like the Knights of St. John, they defended the Holy Land with courage; they were, however, sup-pressed by Pope Clement V in 1312. The Knights of St. Mary were instituted at Acre around 1198; eventually they became preponderantly German (whence the name Teutonic Knights), and moved their field of operations to the Baltic. In 1525 the grand master Albert of Brandenburg secularized the order's holdings, erected them into the hereditary Duchy of Prussia, and. became a Lutheran. Even though a Protestant as well as a Catho-lic branch of the order survived, for all practical pur-poses the order was dead. Other knightly orders existed ~n the Iberian peninsula. These military orders had a relatively brief existence; of far greater importance to the history of the Church are the mendicant orders which next appeared: The emergence of the me0dicant orders was associated with the growth of cities in Western Europe. By the thirteenth cen-tury, that part of the world was beginning to move out of the almost exclusively agricultural economy which had followed the decline of the Roman Empire and the disappearance of the urban civilization that had characterized that realm. Cities were once more appearing. It was to deepening the religious life of the populace of the cities and towns that the friars devoted much of their energy. Most of the monasteries had chosen solitude and centers remote from the contaminfiting influences of the world. In contrast, the mendicant orders sought the places where men congregated and endeavoured to bring the Gospel to them there. The older monasteries were associated with a prevailing rural and feudal ,milieu. The mendicant orders flourished in the rapidly growing urban populations,m The mendicants are usually listed as four: the Car-melites whose foundations were laid in 1156; the Franciscans begun by St. Francis of Assisi (1181 or 1182- 1226) and given tentative approval in 1210; the Order of Preachers instituted by St. Dominic (I170-1221) and approved in 1216; the Augustinians, amalgamated and formed as an order only in 1256.28 Sometimes the list of mendicants is expanded in order to include the Ser-vites: established in 1223 by seven youths from aristo-cratic Florentine families, the group was constituted an = Latourette, History of Christianity, p. 428. = The order formed in 1256 was composed of preexisting congre-gations, one of which had been founded by St. William about 1156. order in 1240, although final approval did not come un-til 1304. The largest of the mendicant groups owes its origin to St. Francis of Assisi. He wrote a rule for his followers in 1221, and a second one in 1223. After his death, the friars (First Order) split, chiefly on the question of pov-erty, into the Observants and Conventuals. The Second Order developed from the little group of women headed by St. Clare. The Third Order, established in.1221 under the name of the Brothers and Sitters of Penance, de-veloped into the Third Order Secular '(persons living in the world), the Third Order Regular, and numerous other tertiary organizations basing themselves on the Franciscan rule. The friars of the various orders quickly spread and rapidly attracted large numbers of members. Perhaps this Was due to the fact that they combined in an obvi-ous way the love of God (as' did the monks) with service to others. This growth b~ought the mendicants into re-peated conflicts with the secular ~lergy. The friars were by the nature of their institute destined to go°and to minister to the people everywhere. To do this, they needed exemption from the diocesan bishops, exemp-tion that was not local (as in a monastery), but personal. This exemption the popes gladly gave, for they saw 'in the friars a most powerful aid in the work of reform. During the fourteenth century, the Brothers of the Common Life, a congregation of laymen without vows under the leadership of Gerard de Groote (1340-1384) did much to revitalize education. They attempted to combine a thorough Catholic training with the new classical curriculum. Despite their work and despite the presence of some religious saints, the fourteenth~ century was in general one of decline among monks, canons, and mendicants. In the years around 1350, the Black Death took a heavy toll among the more zealous; While in some lands religious life recovered, in many places the de-terioration in discipline and morals seems to have been especially marked in the latter part of the fourteenth and in the fifteenth centuries. Besides the Brothers of the Common Life, only a few small religious groups were founded. There were nevertheless some attempts at re-form among the Franciscan groups and among the Dominicans. The Augustinian friars experienced a re-form in certain countries; it was to an Observant friary that Martin Luther would apply. The Carmelites un-derwent a reform movement in Italy about 1413, but this gradually spent itself. In general, these pre-Triden-tine reforms lacked thoroughness and permanency. At the time of the Reformation, consequently, many religious houses were in a low spiritual state and their ÷ ÷ The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 196~ 763 + + + M. A. Roche, C.M. REWEW FOR .~ELm~OUS 764 members were unprepared to meet the attractions of Protestantism. The list of those who embraced the new religion included many priests and nuns. Reform came, though somewhat late, to the older or-ders. The Dominicans, less in need of moral than in-tellectual renewal, were given impetus in the latter field by Cardinal Cajetan (1469-1534). The Franciscans were again reorganized (in 1517) into Conventuals and Ob-servants; a later offshoot of the latter group is the Capuchins. The Augustinians were reformed by their general, Giles of Viterbo (d. 1532). The work of renewal undertaken on behalf of the Carmelites by St. John of the Cross (1542-1591) and St. Teresa (1515-1582) re-sulted in the separation of the new Discalced Carmelites from what came to be called the Calced Carmelites. Re-form was also undertaken with more or less success by the Benedictines,~4 Camaldolese,~5 Ciste~'cians,2~ Canons P,.egular,"-'7 and other groups. Before the opening of the Council of Trent (1545- 1563), the reform movement in the Church had pro-duced a number of new institutes. Prominent among these are the clerks regularY8 Included in this group are the Theatines founded in 1516 by St. Cajetan of Thiene (1480-1547); the Barnabites initiated in 1532 by St. An-thony Zaccaria (1502-1539); and the Somaschi begun in 1532 by St. Jerome Aemilian (1481-1537). The most important of these pre-Tridentine founda-tions was the Society of Jesus begun in 1540 by St. Ig-natius of Loyola (1496-1556). The Society had many unique qualities, so that some feel that it should be classified not as an order of clerks regular but in a sepa-rate classification.-~9 Among the distinctive features of the Jesuits were: (a) a two-year novitiate; (b) the deferral of profession for ten, fifteen, or more years after the novitiate; .-4 A reformed cmlgregation of Benedictines that received papal ap-proval in 1604; an offshoot of this reform is the later Congregation of St. Maur. = Paolo Giustiniani (1475-1528) worked to restore the primitive spirit of the Camaldolese. -~ A reformed group of Cistercians (the Feuillants) arose in France under the leadership of Jean de la Barri~re (1544-1600). In 1662 Ar-mand de Ranc~ (d. 1700) initiated the reform of La Trappe. -~ Peter Fourier (1565-1640) worked to renew the canons regular in Lo~:raine. ~ The clerks regular are distinguished from (a) canons regular, in that the clerks do not have Office in choir in order to have more time for the ministry; (b) monks, in that they are pastorally oriented; (c) mendicants, in that they do not subsist from alms and do not recite the choral Office; and (d) secular priests, in that that they live a com-mon life with vows. -~ Ricardo Garcia Villoslada, Historia de la lglesia Cat61ica, v. 3 (Madrid: 1960), p. 827. (c) the division into the professed of the four vows (a minority who take solemn vows); and the ordinary members, coadjutors spiritual (priests) and coadjutors temporal (lay brothers); (d) the great power of the superior general; (e) a fourth vow of obedience to the Roman Pontiff; and (f) the elimination of the choral Office. The members of the Company wore no garb other than the ordinary dress of secular clerics; made much of study; and engaged in works of education, mission; and controversy. They were ch.iefly responsible for halting the further spread of the Reformation; indeed, they often succeeded in winning back regions that had fallen to Protestantism. Especially noteworthy .were their works in the foreign missions. After much delay, the Council of Trent finally opened in 1545. Besides the many other pressing problems, the Council fathers interested themselves also in the ques-tion of religious orders. By this time exemption had grown so universal that it created administrative chaos in the Church. The council decided what the local or-dinary could do in regard to regulars jure ordinario, jure delegato and utroque simul jure. Thus, for exam-pie, a bishop was empowered to punish regulars for crimes committed outside the house, if his superiors failed to act, and so forth, In general, Trent preserved the internal autonomy of religious, but subjected them to the authority of the local ordinary in all ministry to the bishop's people and in all things looking to the common good of the Church. After the Council of Trent, a new type of clerical life became exceedingly popular: that of secular priests liv-ing in common but not bound by vows.s° One of the earliest of these groups was the Oratory founded in 1564 by St. Philip Neri (1515-1595). The members of the ora-tory lived together without vows, retained their own property, and provided for their own needs except for lodging. The superior was more a chairman than a ruler, since no public act could be decided without the approbation of a majority of the members. Each house was independent, although the personal influence of St. Philip was very great. In France, Pierre Cardinal de B~rulle (1575-1629) organized a French oratory on the principles of St. Philip, though the independence of each house was re- ~o These priests resemble the canons of the time of St. Chrodegang in that they are priests living in common without vows. The canons of St. Chrodegang were almost all in the parochial ministry; the newer groups, on the other hand, engage in a great variety of works: parishes, schools, seminaries, domestic missions, foreign missions, and so forth. + + + The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 765 ÷ ÷ ÷ M. A. Roche, .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 766 placed by a type of federation. Similar groups were the Oblates of St. Ambrose initiated in 1578 in Milan by St. Charles Borromeo (1538-1584); the Doctrinaires begun in 1592 by Caesar de Bus (1544-1607); the Lazarists or Vincentians" founded in 1625 by St. Vincent de Paul (1581-1660); the Sulpicians begun in 1642 by Jean- Jacques Olier (1608-1657); the Eudists formed in 1643 by St. Jean Eudes (1601-1680); the Paris Foreign Mis-sion Society organized in 1660 at Paris by Pope Alex-ander VII (1599-1667). After the Council of Trent there also arose new com-munities of religious who differed from the newer com-munities of secular priests in that they took the usual three vows of religion, and from the older orders in that these vows were not solemn but simple.The great ma-jority of post-Tridentine religious groups are of this type. Among them are the Camillans organized in 1584 by St. Camilhls de Lellis (1550-1614); the Passionists begun in 1737 by St. Paul of the Cross (1694--1775); the Redemptorists started by St. Alphonsus Ligouri (1696- 1787); the Company of Mary initiated by St. Louis Marie de Montfort (1673-1716). The above congregations were composed chietly of priests; St. John Baptist de la Salle (1651-1719) organized abont the year 1684 a congrega-tion of non-clerics, the Brothers of the Christian Schools. Despite these new foundations and despite the re-newal of the older orders, the religious life began to decay ;~gain during the second half of the eighteenth cen-tury. Gallicanism, Josephism, Jansenism, and subservi-ence to the king seriously weakened Catholic life in gen-eral and reached even into religion. The suppression of the .Jesuits by Pope Clement XIV in 1773 temporarily removed the Society from the scene; the French Revolu-tion and the Napoleonic era dealt harshly with com-munity life in what remained of Catholic Europe. The one other area of ltourishing religious observance, Span-ish America, lost most of its monasteries and convents during the wars for independence and the subsequent years of turmoil. In 1815, then, the religious life among clerics had to ;i large degree disappeared; but the nineteenth century witnessed an extraordinary revival. The Society of Jesus (granted some sort of recognition in 1801) was restored to the whole world in 1814. The Benedictines--their houses reduced to about thirty--took on new life. Not the least of their contributions was the impetus given to liturgical study and liturgical worship by Dora Gu~r-anger. The Cistercians reopened many old monasteries and made new foundations. The Dominicans acquired fresh vigor--the name of Lacordaire. is important here-- and qnickly accepted the invitation of Leo XIII to re- vive the philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas. The Fran-ciscans were again reorganized in 1897. Numerous new institutes of clerics arose, almost all (if not all) congregations with simple vows. St. ,John Bosco (1815-1888) begafi the Salesians; Blessed Peter Julian Eyniard (1811-1868) started the Priests of the Blessed Sacrament. The Congregation of the Immacu-late Heart of Mary (1841) of Venerable Frances Lieber-mann merged with the Fathers of the Holy Ghost in 1848; William Chaminade initiated the Marianists around 1815 or 1816; in 1816 Eugene de Mazenod founded the Oblates of Mary Immaculate; in the same year Jean Claude Marie Colin (1790-1875) began the Marists. Blessed Vincent Palotti (1798-1850) about 1835 formed the Pious Society of the Missions, soon called after him the Pallotine Fathers; two existing groups united in France in 1842 to form the Congregation of Holy Cross. In 1898 the Anglican Father Paul Francis established the Society of the Atonement; in 1908 he and most of his followers were received into the Church. Several new congregations of religious clerics with simple vows were initiated solely or primarily for work on the foreign missions. Among these are the Congrega-tion of the Immaculate Heart of Mary begun in 1863 by Theophile Verbiest in Belgium; the Society of the Di-vine Word inaugurated in 1875 by Arnold Janssen; the Mill Hill Fathers, started in England in 1866 by Her-bert Cardinal Vaughan. In addition to the above religious congregations, sev-eral societies were formed for priests living in commu-nity without vows: the Precious Blood Fathers started in 1815 by Gaspar del Bufalo; the Paulists formed by Isaac Hecker (1819-1888); the Maryknoll Fathers established in 1911 by James Walsh and Thomas Price; the Joseph-ite Fathers inaugurated in 1893; the White Fathers be-gun by Charles Cardinal Lavigerie in Algiers in 1868. As this paper draws to a close, perhaps it will be help-ful to give a panoramic view of the religious life as we have it today in the western Church. The modern canoni-cal organization of the religious life is divided into the orders (in which solemn vows are pronounced) and con-gregations (in which simple vows are taken). Included among the orders (in their order of precedence) are: (a) canons regular, for example, the Canons Regular of St. Augustine at St. Maurice, Switzerland; (b) monks, such as Benedictines, Cistercians, and so forth; and (c) other regulars, such as mendicants (Franciscans, Dominicans, and so forth) and clerks regular (Barnabites, Jesuits, and so forth). ÷ ÷ ÷ The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 767 + + M. A. Roche, C.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 768 Among the congregations aye the Passionists, Redemp-torists, Salesians, and most of the newer groups. Somewhat like the congregations are the societies of secular priests living in common without vows: Sulpi-cians, Vincentians, Maryknoll, Paulists, and so forth. It seems fitting here to add a word about secular in-stitutes. They are societies, whether clerical or lay, whose members profess the evangelical counsels in the world in order to attain Christian perfection and to ex-ercise a full apostolate. Though these institutes are still in the embryonic stage, they show much promise [or the future. A treatment of these, is beyond the scope of this article, but it is interesting to note that they are somewhat akin to (though better organized than) the groups of domestic ascetics of the first century. The wheel has returned to its starting place. At the end of this article, it seems appropriate to list some conclusions that may be drawn from a study of the historical aspect of religious life.al (1) The practice of the evangelical counsels with or without vows has always been esteemed in the Church; moreover, it has a necessary.role to play. (2) As a general rule, religious orders increase in power between general councils as a result of papal grant. During general councils, religious usually lose power as a result of episcopal action. (3) A good criterion for the vitality of the Church in any period or in any area is the vitality of the religious (and especially of the monastic) observance. (4) Every approved form of religious life gives wit-ness to a special attribu'te of God or to a special truth that needs emphasis. The monk, for example, witnesses to the absolute primacy of the supernatural; the Domini-can to the wisdom of God; the Franciscan to the neces-sity of detachment and to the joy of the Christian life; the Mayknoller to God's universal salvific will, and so forth. In addition to this basic emphasis, most religious engage in work for the people. At times it may seem that a par-ticular form of religious life is today not the most efficient type for external work; perhaps, for example, the choral Office or prescribed manual labor or the vow of poverty may hinder to some degree the work of the ministry. This does not mean, however, that a seemingly less efficient group should be allowed to die; nor that it ought to change its nature radically. Every religious group still serves a most useful purpose in the Church by witnessing to its basic orientations. In the case o[ those who vow = Some of these points were made by Pope Paul VI in his allocu-tion, Magno gaudio, of May 23, 1964, treating of the religious life; an English translation of the allocution can be found in REVIEW FOR RELIC~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 698-704. poverty, for example, their profession of detachment is of great value to the Church and ought not to be aban-doned lightly. (5) As a corollary to the foregoing, it can be said that religious orders and congregations ought to adhere as closely as possible to the spirit given them by their founders, for only then can they give the witness for which they were created. A further corollary is that there is need for a periodic examination of conscience by every order and congregation to see whether it has really kept its original orientation. (6) The history of religious life is not necessarily an e~colution from a less perfect to a more perfect form. A particular form appears because changed conditions have called for a new mode of religious observance. Thus the monastery (and it alone) was ideal in the agrarian society of the early Middle Ages; there was in fact little call for wandering friars. The reurbanization of Europe in the eleventh and twelfth centuries did not necessitate the abandonment of monasticism; but it did call for another expression of the religious life, and the friars appeared. (7) As a corollary of this, it is quite possible that mod-ern times demand new types of religious life, types which up till now have not been tried. It is also quite possible that these new forms will have a difficult birth, that some attempts will be premature and abortive. Only time will tell. In the past, certain representatives of es-tablished forms of the religious life have with the best of intentions attempted to thwart men seeking to estab-lish newer forms of religious observance. It would be a tragedy if today we repeat these errors of the past. It would be far better if the established orders, congrega- ¯ tions, and societies would assist these new attempts with their counsel, encouragement, and prayer. Love of one's own institute ought not to blind a man to the fact that there are other ways of serving God. We know that God is wonderful in His saints; He is also wonderful in the variety and holiness of religious life. The Male Religious VOLUME 25, 1966 769 SISTER TERESA MARGARET, O.C.D. Updating the Cloister ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresa Margaret, O.C~D,, writes from the Carmelite Mona-stery; Bridell, (~ar-digan; Wales. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We have reached a turning point in history, it would seem, when the world is taking a new path and when, in the words of the late Cardinal Suhard, "the greatest mis-take the Christians of the twentieth century could make would be to let the world develop and unify itself with-out them." In saying this, the cardinal was urging the Church to emerge from her closed circle and become immersed in the activity of the world. But his words apply no less to the necessity of the religious "emergence" by shedding the inhibitions and barnacles of centuries. Adaptation and Renewal. Cardinal Suenens and other notable writers on the subject of religious reform have confined their suggestions and criticisms, to the active apostolate, specifically excluding the enclosed orders of ~women from their remarks. This has been interpreted in many cloisters as indicating that in our case no updat-ing was necessary, either because our customs and the externals of our life were "changeless" (which, in effect, merely means that they have not changed since the sixteenth century), or because they are so perfect in themselves that they stand in no need of renewal-- which sounds like the stock formulation of Pharisa-ism. Glosses traditionally applied to the monastic life as an anticipation of heaven or a continuation of the Gospels should be taken for what they are--metaphors --and not lead cloistered religious to believe that they form a privileged elite of humanity, a class of Christian different from and superior to all others. Everything human changes with time except human nature itself; and in a world subject to continuous alteration; it would indeed be a rare individual or community that stood in no need of renovation. Any lingering doubts on this score should be dispelled by the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Life promulgated by Paul VI on October 28, 1965: The adaptation and renewal of the religious life includes both the constant return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original spirit of the institutes and their adaptation to the changed conditions of our time. [but] even the best adjust-ments made in accordance with the needs of our age will be in-effectual unless they are animated by a renewal of spirit . Therefore let constitutions, directories, customs books, books of prayer and ceremonies and such like be suitably re-edited and, obsolete laws being suppressed, be adapted to the decrees of this sacred synod . Papal cloister should be maintained in the case of nuns engaged exclusively in the contemplative life. However, it must be adjusted to conditions of time and place and obsolete wactices suppressed? External Reforms 1. Enclosure. A recently published symposium entitled Religious Orders in the Modern World2 contains as the last and longest contribution a survey of practical aspects of renewal made by the Bishop of Arras, Mgr. Gerard Huyghe, a couple of years ago. Bishop Huyghe does not limit himself to criticisms of outmoded customs, and dress that hamper the exercise of the active apostolate but turns his searchlight also upon the cloister. Present forms of enclosure, he rightly says, are a legacy from' the Middle Ages, grilles, curtains, and turns being, "doubtless a survival from the long period of Moslem domination over the Iberian peninsula," a weight of custom that is purposeless and ridiculous in this age. Certainly it is advisable for [cloistered] nuns to live entirely apart from the world--partly for protection against the noise of the world, and as a defense against the temptation to go out too much; but mainly as an unequivocal sign that they have chosen to offer their services gratuitously to praise God in the Church's name. But all external signs of such enclosure should be ruth-lessly eliminated, and the law on enclosure for nuns should be brought into harmony with the law on monks' enclosure, which is much more humane and has more respect for the dignity of the person . Canonical penalties like excommunication should be abolished, because they are a threat to none but the scrup-ulous; 8 I would like to make it clear at the outset that in relegating grilles and prison bars to the category of "obsolete practices" which the decree recommends should be "suppressed," I am in no way championing claustral emancipation in the sense of more contact with the secular world, or any mitigation of the monastic need for withdrawal and rules of silence and solitude. But it is a poor form o~ "aloneness with God" that can be enforced only under lock and key. If one has not already erected a cloister of the heart, no multiplying of bolts and veils will provide the necessary withdrawal, which is something essentially interior. No, my reasons ~ Decree on Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life, nos. 2, 3, 16. -" Geoffrey Chapman (ed.), Religious Orders in the Modern World (London: 1965). ~ Ibid., p. 156. Updating the Cloister VOLUME 25, 1966 771 + Sister Teresa Margaret REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS for assuming the grille to be obsolete are all strictly utilitarian. It hinders vocations, creating antagonism and an entirely false and unhealthy conception of the con-templative life in the modern generation; it causes un-told and unnecessary suffering for parents; and it serves no useful purpose. If I wanted to get out of this cloister tomorrow, I could achieve it with the greatest of ease and without any need to make a dramatic nocturnal escape over the wall. It is anti-feminist discrimination that presumes no woman may be trusted except under lock and key and constant supervision, else why are regulations for enclosed men so different? It is shocking that in this day and age some monasteries of women actu-ally continue the most reprehensible practice of sending "companions" to the parlor so that a sister may not speak to a friend or relative except in the presence of a monitor. If she cannot be trusted in the parlor, then by all means keep her out of it; but do not send her with a hidden vigilante. Again, why may a nun not embrace her mother, or sit with her in the parlor in the normal way, as any monk does when his parents visit him? Why may a monk offer Mass in the public sanctuary of an enclosed convent while the nuns must "participate" from the other side of a grille? These are all matters of discrimination and serve no usefizl or sensible purpose except that since time imme-morial women and children were expected to show so little discretion that they must be confined to the nursery under the watchfi~l eye of a governess. Bishop Huyghe says: A final reason for abolishing some of the externals of the nuns' enclosure is connected with the present needs of the Christian people in liturgical matters. As a nun says: "Priests and sacred ministers are allowed to enter the enclosure to bury the dead (Inter coetera, n. 27). Why should they not also do so for the processions on the Rogation Days and Palm Sunday? It becomes increasingly difficult for us to see why the priest should be left 'marking time' on one side of the grille, while the nuns go off to perform their own little ceremony on the other. Why should a function like the Easter Vigil be cut in two by a grille? Moreover, I do not see why there should be a grille separating the nuns from the altar. Would it not be more reason-able if the priest came in to say Mass and went out as soon as the sacrifice was over?" ' We have been told by the highest authority that cl6istered nuns are not to remain aloof from litur-gical participation by silence, darkened choirs, or veiled faces, but to join in with celebrant and congre-gation in dialogue Masses, hymns, Benediction, Bible vigils, and such services. But present claustral regulations do not facilitate participation, tending to isolate the nuns' choir from the action in the sanctuary and chapel beyond the grille, both physically and psychologically. Ibid., p. 156-7. 2.Habits. Any suggestion to modify nuns' habits meets ~with varying reactions; and, in fact, little practical lead has been given in the matter, although in recent years there has been considerable reduction of the bulk, both in material and unnecessary layers of garment. But the habits still look voluminous, unhygienic, and incon-venient. And they are. Nowadays few would agree that this is an acceptable or reasonable form of penance, for wearing heavy clothes fatigues one unnecessarily and reduces efficiency and working capacity. Is there any reason why habits should not be shorter and lighter so that wasted energy could be redirected into more pro-ductive activities than mere physical exhaustion? Nor can I see much force in the argument that, were habits not at least ankle-length, Poor Clares and Discalced Carmelites who do not wear shoes, would look most inelegant. Granted they would. But why not adopt normal twentieth century footgear as the more sensible alternative? The Council fathers in their decree stress that the religious habit is an outward mark of con-secration to God and therefore "should be simple and modest, poor and at the same time.becoming. In addition it must meet the requirements of health and be suited to circumstances of time and place., the habits of both men and women ~religious which do not conform to these norms must be changed," ~ and that, one imagines, would include the habits of most enclosed orders, male and female, Can one think of anything less practicable than the white habits of Cistercians, Carthusians, and Dominicans? And' th~ fact that brown or black merely do not show th~ dirt is 'little recommendation'. In the interest of simplicity, I fail to see why we can-not have a common habit for all religious. For the various, congregations, teachers, nurses, catechists, social workers, could not each group, rather than each congre-gation, wear a common "religious" dress for inside their convents/and another suitable costume (with, perhaps, a distinguishing badge) for external work? And could' not all cloistered nuns and monks have a common habit, combining the best and most servicei~ble features of all? The cloistered religious could retain veil and scapular (in a modified form), which would clearly differentiate them from their apostolic sisters. Thus a nun would be easily identified on sight without this perennial hunt for a different style to mark off the var-ious orders which has led to such exaggerated headgear in the recent past, when latecomers in the field found that all moderate, styles for coifs had already been snapped up. The badge of the order or congregation would distinguish one's identity and form of work. ~ Decree on Adal~tation and Renewal oI Religious Life, n. 17. + + ÷ Updating the Cloister VOLUME 25, 1966 773 ÷ 4. ÷ Sister Teresa Margaret REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Legislation. Another point that needs urgent re-vision is the framing of our laws, which is at present done exclusively by men who, however learned and holy, simply do not understand women's domestic prob-lems. Thus, no sooner are new regulations issued than it is necessary to apply for dispensations and indults be-cause of local conditions; and it seems an anomalous rule that can be maintained only by constant dispensations. Why [asks Mgr. Huyghe] should [women] not be allowed to share in the work of reformation themselves, as they are the principal persons to be affected by it? It is not fitting that the rules for contemplative houses of women should be made ex-clusively by men, even if these men belong to the same Order as the nuns? Principles of Renewal The above matters are all more or less self-evident, but merely "keeping abreast of the times" or "adapting ourselves to the modern world" is not enough. However, the impressive bulk of bibliography about religious life, theory and practice, theology and pastoral application, does not on the whole contain a great deal of fun-damental thinking or real help. No order or congre-gation can effectively undertake reform or renewal with-out a very clear grasp of the principles that are its underpinning. Too often the accidental has been allowed to shift to main focus so that the means take precedence over the end, customs which have no longer any relevance become canonized and then fossilized until some religious seem to fear that their removal will topple the whole structure of religious life. But surely it is built on a sounder foundation than that. Nor will renewal be effected by adding new gimmicks; merely because they are modern, brightly packaged and labor-saving, they are no more going to effect the necessary aggiornamento of themselves, than those sixteenth century ones they are replacing. There is no such thing as push button renewal. In his speech to the Council fathers proclaiming a jubilee to mark the close of Vatican II, Pope Paul said: We ought not to pay attention to these reforms, however necessary they are, at the expense of those moral and spiritual reforms which can make us more like our Divine Master and better equipped for the duties of our vocation. To this we should attend principally: to our effective sanctification and to realizing our capacities for spreading the Gospel message among the men of our time7 Superiority-complex. Caste spirit is strong in human Chapman, Religious Orders, p. 162. Quoted in the Tablet, Nov. 27, 1965. nature, and religious are human beings. Of course, the religious is not .seeking personal aggrandizement; but she knows that the order she has entered is undoubtedly the most perfect form Of life in the Church. Cardinal Costantini wrote: Take religious individually and you will find them of the highest calibre: broadminded, genuinely devout and often excellent theologians. As individuals they are faithful to the vows., humble.Yet taken together, in the Congregation, the sun1 of these virtues undergoes a change. The members' natural instincts for glory, power and wealth are transferred to the Congregation. The members themselves are humble; but no one must touch d~eir Congregation, its honor or its prestige. The members are poor individually, but do not ask that their Congregation should be poor . s Obvious examples of this have been the blatant an-nexation of saints to which many orders have no legitimate claim and even the fabrication of "saints" who have never existed; the astounding .n~ture of some supposed "relics" that have been exposed and venerated m Europe and the Middle East; and in our own day, the fervor with which, in the face of liturgical renewal, so many orders cling to their own rites and liturgies. Any reform immediately meets with requests from some reli-gious congregation for a dispensation, since a "venerable tradition" in their institute has always celebrated such-and- such a feast as a double of the first class or with a privileged octave, and despite the fact that the Sacred Congregation has issued a uniform ruling for the universal Church, their first instinct is to preserve intact their own beloved rubric. Can religious wonder if at times the laity regard them as being outside the main stream of °the Church's life when they deliberately seek special donditions for no really good reason (except hidebound custom), thus putting themselves into a special category? Religious life is a special consecration to God indeed; but it is a sharing of the life of the Church. Wholehearted participation in that life is essential for any really effective renewal in religious life. To seek anything else wot~Id be no less unfruitful than cutting ourselves off from the sacraments, as death-dealin~ as .closing off a main artery. Reform Is Not Revolt. There are many cloistered nuns who harbor an unexpressed fear that to plunge into the main stream would be synonymous with a loss of monastic 'status, the first step on the downgrade to secularism. Take away the grilles, open the cloister win-dows, let in some fresh air, and who knows what kind of virus and restlessness will find its way in with it. Could this be the thin end of the wedge that will eventually send s Chaptnan, Religious Orders, p. 142. 4- Updating the Cloister VOLUME 25, 1966 775 + ÷ ÷ Sister Teresa Margaret REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS us out into the world to assist in the active, apostolate~ The fathers of the Council have no such scruples: Communities which are entirely dedicated to contemplation, so that their members in solitude and silence,, with constant prayer and penance willingly undertaken, occupy themselves with God alone, retain at all times, no matter how pressing the needs of'the active apostolate may be, an honorabl~ place in the Mystical Body of Christ, whose "members do not all have the same function" (Rom 12:4) . Nevertheless their manner of living should be revised according to the principles and cri-teria of adaptation and renewal mentioned above. However their withdrawal from the world and the exercises proper to the contemplative life should be preserved with the utmost care. [Italics mine]? Nor can adaptation to the twentieth century be interpreted merely as a movement "back to the founders," if by that we mean a literal interpretation of what was laid down and practiced by our founders in the sixteenth, twelfth, or sixth centuries. Yet one hears astounding reports of communities where oil lamps, are still used and bathing is prohibited because the founder had specific remarks to make on such matters. Even more absurd are the accounts of importation, at exorbitant costs, of a particular type of pottery which the founder legislated for refectory use and which can now only be obtained at great expense abroad, handmade and fired, in the precise shade and shape used by the first monastery of the order. Common sense and genuine poverty.demand that we use wl~at is the cheapest and commonest' ware today, as such pottery (now a luxury ware, the art dealer's province) was in the time of the founder. Archaeologism is one of the pitfalls that beset any movement back to the past. Return to Sources. How, then, should we implement the "constant return to the sources of all Christian life and the original spirit of our institutes,'~' as the decree puts it? We cannot return to the conditions, social~ cultural economic, and religious, that prevailed then and which shaped the founders' minds and spirituality, dictating the norms of their institutes. Religious orders no less than civilizations and nations are living entities, subject to growth, change, evolution; and in all live organisms change is an indispensable condition. Only a mummified body does not alter, for even a corpse decays. The original institute cannot be regarded as a finished work, coming down from heaven like the New Je.rusalem, perfect in every detail, which subsequent generations ne~ed only maintain in that condition, occasionally scraping off time's corrosion to restore it to its :pristine glory. Rather it is the mustard seed which grows into a Decree on Adaptation and Renewal o[ Religious LiIe, n. 7. plant, then a huge tree in which the birds of the air shel-ter. The holy rule leaves its mark on all.the members of the order, but no less do they leave their mark on the holy rule, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. I fancy that St. Teresa of Avila would make one of her characteristic "God preserve me from." exclamations were she to find her daughters today clinging like limpets to some outmoded custom that was a normal social acceptance four centuries ago. St. Teresa herself was as strong a champion of flexibility as St. Ignatius was of mobility; and neither of them would have wished their sons and daughters to imprison themselves in the narrow groove of formalism which precludes either. As a concrete example: St. Teresa swept away much of the protocol both of speech and elaborate ceremony surrounding social life in her day, which was meticu-lously observed in religious houses, her attempt being to "return to sources," that is, of the gospel. The result was that her ceremonial and customs book were extremely simple for the times; and if today some of the prescribed c.urtsies, inclinations, and forms of address seem to us excessive that is only because such tokens of personal reverence to teachers and parents have entirely disap-peared from the modern scene. To drop them betokens no disrespect; they are simply archaic. Again, St. Teresa ruthlessly swept away the elaborate clothing, the yards of material, trains, rings, pectoral crosses, croziers, and all the episcopal insignia that abbesses had gradually acquired through the Middle Ages. She laid down unequivocally that habits and cloaks and all garments were to be as spare as decency allowed, so that only the minimum of material and work might be expended on clothing. In St. Teresa's day the Carmelite habit as she reconstituted it was simple to the point of skimpiness. It is not today, but that is because a yard of material now suffices to clothe our modern contemporaries. Even St. Teresa would not wish her daughters to get about in a cotton shift; but in a period when it is ho longer considered immodest for girls to go bareheaded, stockingless, and with bare arms, she might not consider that the Carmelite habit was any longer "as spare as possible." Another interpretation of "returning to the founders" has been that superiors should translate the founder's intentions and principles into present day norms and conditions, bringing the institute into line with them by striving to do what the founder would do here and now in this situation, did she live today instead of in a previous age. But this is not really possible, unless the superior is to become herself a founder or at least a reformer. The superior today has inherited not only the time-honored ÷ ÷ ÷ Updating ,the Cloister VOLUME 25, 1966 + + + Sister Teresa Margare¢ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS traditions, but a way of life that has been approved by the Church for centuries. What she must do is take the situa-tion ~as it exists and work on and with that, for in the first clause of the above quotation, the conciliar decree provides th~ solution to this question: ". constant re-turn to the sources of all Christian life." No founder, however holy, however inspired, is the source of all Christian life. Christ alone is that, and the return to the sources envisaged by the decree can mean only one thing: renewal in the spirit of the gospel according to the par-ticular forms of life framed by the founder for this insti-tute and sanctioned by the Church. When on a Sunday afternoon I look out of my window ~nd see a row of schoolgirls pass, dressed all in black, wearing ridicu-lous berets and led by a sour-faced nun, also in black, I cannot help wondering. Is that really what the Church should look like, what Christianity should look like? Is that the only ex-ample we can give the faithful and the rest of the world? Is that negative attitude 'to the simplest and most elementary values of life the necessary premise of a life consecrated to God? ~o Starting Point: The End. The end of thereligious life is no different from that of ever~ Christian life: the attainment of perfect charity towards God and men. All Christians are called to perfection, to love God and their neighbor with their whole heart an'd mind and strength; and this is exactly what perfection means, this is the essential end Of the Christian life, whether one is a religious or not. The perfect love of God" and men to which each is called in a particular state of life and consonant with his own gifts and graces, is an obligation laid on all: "Ydu therefore .are to be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). But the talents we have received differ; and "the administrator must be content with his administration, the teacher with his work of teaching, the preacher with his preaching. Each must perform his own task well; giving alms with generosity, exercising authority with anx-ious care, or doing works of mercy smilingly" (Rom 12:7-8). There are in the Church orders whose purpose is to promote the prayer life of their members, as there are congregations constituted for the performance of char-itable and apostolic works. Each and every form of life and work of mercy, spiritual, corporal or material, contributes to the building up of the Church. "The eye cannot say to the hand, I do not need~thy help; nor again 10 Bernard Besret, S.O.Cist., in Chapman,.Religious Orders, p. 121. The questions of the ends of religious life and return to Gospel sources for principles of renewal are discussed at length in two outstanding egsays by Fr~ Besret in this book. They should be read by all religious interested ih these matters. the head to the feet, I have no need of you" (1 Cor 12:21). The hand, however efficient, is simply incapable of performing the fnnction of the eye, or vice versa, so it is futile to argue whether cloistered nuns should go out and work in soup kitchens or nursing sisters incarcerate themselves in monasteries. But it is well not to lose sight of the fact that the classifications of ',active" and "con-templative" lives are a comparatively modern inno-vation. In the monastic tradition and the writing of the fathers, the terms "active" and "contemplative" do not represent two separate and mutually exclusive states' of life deriving their distinctive character from the work engaged in; they were rather two stages of the same spiritual growth: asceticism or the practice of the virtues (active life); and union with God, knowledge and ex-perience of His love (contemplative life) was the goal. for which the active asdeticism was but a preparation and training. This remains substantially true today. There is no teacher, preacher, missionary, or nurse who is so committed to non-stop activity as to have no time f6r prayer; any more than there is any such creature as a "pure contemplative" so emancipated from the mate-rial needs of this life and the demands of charity as never to engage in some form or degree of activity. I doubt whether any modern exegete would try to defend the overworked interpretation of Luke 10:38-42 as a contrast made by Christ between the apostolate (Martha) and the life of prayer (Mary), let alone that He preferred the second. In fact, many i'ecent works of exegesis have demonstrated clearly that he was in no way pointing to different canonical forms of religious life as we know them, but which were neither born nor thought of during His lifetime. Every active missionary since St. Paul understands the need of a vital life of prayer if his apostolate is to succeed; and it is only in this sense that the Church stresses the value of the contemplative life, for unless they called down "an abundant rain of divine graces to make this harvest fertile, the workers ~f the Gospel would reap less fruit." 11 The Church, in proclaiming St. Teresa of Lisieux co-patroness of the missions with St. Francis Xavier, has underlined the mutual assistance of the interior life and apostolate for souls, not only in the missions but in every sphere of activity. St. Teresa and St. Francis Xavier are eminent representatives of the Gospel commandment of love, which is twofold: God and our neighbor. Not that one does the work and the other the praying; such an apportionment is never possible. St. Francis Xavier would not have been the perfect, or even a good, mission-n Pius XI, Umbratilem. + + updating the Cloister VOLUME 25, 1966 779 ary without a deep interior life; nor would St. Teresa have perfectly fulfilled her contemplative vocation unless her love and zeal for souls was overflowing the narrow horizons of her own cloister and embracing the whole world, preparing the ground for future evangelization. But it was fitting that two outstanding patrons should jointly watch over both parts of the commandment. Practical forms of renewal are urgent and necessary; but it must never be forgotten that the principle "First things first" applies here as elsewhere. Unless "they are animated by a renewal of spirit" says the decree, "even the best adjustments made in accordance with the needs of our age will be ineffectual . This must take precedence over even the active ministry." 1.o To attempt anything else is not repairing the foundations; it is merely plastering over cracks. Decree on Adaotation and Renewal of Religious Life, n. 2. 4. 4. Sister Teresa Margaret REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 78O LADISLAS M. ~SRSY, S.J. Directed Re reats vs. Preached Retreats With the expansion and renewal of the retreat move-merit there is an increasing interest in the so called di-rected retreats as distinct from the tradkionally well known preached retreats. Priests who give retreats re-ceive inquiries frequently from persons and communities about the desirability or feasibility of a directed re-treat. The inquiries are in many cases followed by invi-tations to help make one. Moreover, there are retreat masters who insist that all retreats should conform to this apparently new pattern that consists more in direc-tion given personally to each of the retreatants than in talks or conferences given to a community. This movement of directed retreats has existed long enough and made enough progress to permit the assess-ing of its value and its suitability for the needs of vari-ous persons and communities. In this article my intention is precisely to attempt this evaluation; and I shall do it through three steps. First, I shall try to present the method of directed retreats; then I shall recall briefly the way in which preached retreats are given; an.d fi-nally I shall attempt to draw up a balance of advantages and disadvantages that may flow from the application of the two different methods. Directed Retreats A retreat is usually called a directed one when the emphasis is not put on talks and conferences given to a community but on personal prayer under the guidance of the retreat master. Talks to the community are not fully excluded, but they are reduced to a minimum: one or two rather short conferences a day. Even these few conferences would be marked by a certain simplicity and clarity so that the minds of the retreatants might not be overcrowded with ideas, or their nerves over-whelmed with holy but unruly emotions. It would be ÷ ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, s.J., is professor of canon law at the Catholic Univer-sity; Washington, D.C. 2O017. VOLUME 25, 1966 expected that each one of the persons in retreat will be in close contact with the director and will keep him in-formed about his progress in prayer, about the inner world of his conscience where the grace of God meets his human nature. The retreat master in his turn would help him to discern the inspirations of the Holy Spirit from other movements in his soul and to obey the will of God thus manifested. One can see that the emphasis is on personal activity. Or, more correctly, on a right type of passivity which is the fertile soil for activity. This passivity makes a person able to receive the grace of God, to become aware of the life of God in himself.1 It has a hidden dynamism and very soon it blossoms out into personal activity. One is reminded of the evangelical parable: when the good seed takes root in receptive soil it will finally grow into a large tree. If this is the essence of a directed retreat, the inade-quacy of the term directed comes to the fore. There is really no question of a continuous direction. The retreat master's office is to convey some basic elements of the gospel to the retreatant, letting him penetrate its depth with the light of grace and reason. The work of the director consists more in reviewing and somewhat con-trolling the internal life of his disciple, more in watching over his progress than in giving him direction in the ordinary full sense of the term. The example of John the Baptist is a good illustration of the office of the director: he pointed out the Messiah to the disciples, sent them to Christ, and then withdrew since his mis-sion was accomplished. The retreat master presents the image of Christ to the person under his care, sends him to Christ, then leaves him alone with the Redeemer. It is this meeting that brings into motion the whole internal world of the retreatant. He will experience the attraction of grace that calls him to follow Christ. He + + + L. M. Orsy, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 782 a The genuine Ignatian method of prayer is really a incthod to build up a disposition in the mind and the heart of the retreatant to receive the grace of simple prayer. The Saint never intended to impose a rigid logical pattern on those who are seeking the grace of God, but he tried to help them to detach themselves from the visible world in order to enter into God's invisible mystery. All the preludes and points in a meditation serve to tune up, to warm up the person to the communications or consolations of the Holy Spirit. Once God's grace is somehow experienced, the method has fulfilled its purpose and the person in prayer should enjoy the freedom of the children of God. No formal meditation in the world could give him so much as the Holy Spirit working in him. Paradoxically, the purpose of the Ig-natian meditation is to help a person to abandon meditation and to take up a simpler form of prayer. St. Ignatius does not seem to think that this development should take a long time. He certainly assumes that some transformation will take place in a well
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News Depot & Subscription Agency, MAIN ST., GETTYSBURG, PA. Sole Maimf'r of Dr. Tyler's Cough Drops FINE CIGARS AND SMOKER'S ARTICLE. Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG JOHN fl. WW, CONFECTIONERY AND ICE CREAM, OYSTERS STEWED AND FRIED. No: 17, BALTIMORE STREET. COLLEGE OK PWsidans § Sur^ons, BALTIMORE, MI>. The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Baltimore, Maryland, is a well equipped school. Four ses-sions are required for graduation. For full information send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D., Dean. Cor. Calvert and Saratoga Sts. The (qett^bui'g JVJefcufiJ, Entered at the Post Office at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. V. GETTYSBURG, PA., JANUARY, 1898. No. 9. STAFF: EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, ALUMNI EDITOR, IV. H. Bruce Carney. '99. Rev. F. D. Garland BUSINESS MANAGER, ADVISORY BOARD ASSISTANT EDITORS, steward W. Herman, 99. prgf \ A Himgs ' Robert W. Woods, '9S. AssT. Bus. MANAGER, " G. D. Stanley, M.D. Win. J. Klinefelter, '99. Reuben Z. Imler, '00. » J.W. Richard, D.D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Fifteen cents. Sudents, 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 Hercury, Gettysburg, Penna. CONSTANCY AND GROWTH. BY REV. G. M. DIPPENDERFER, A. M., '93. Individuals, parties, associations and institutions, are frequently charged with inconstancy, when the fact is, they are simply growing and developing. Constancy is a characteristic which cannot be rightly estimated by its own intrinsic merit, but which must depend for its value upon the way in which it is mani-fested. Primarily its meaning is to stand firm, and with a great many persons this means, a cessation of motion. Yet in all nature, including human nature, motion is just what makes real stability possible. The earth is so often 70 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. taken as a model of all that is firm, solid and enduring yet we know well that her rapid and regular whirl through space, is the imperative condition of her stability. We often hear people say, "as inconstant as the wind," yet we know that the continual changing of its currents is the best possible fulfillment of its purposes. The stagnant, motionless pool breeds decay and corrup-tion ; whilst the swiftly flowing stream is clear and pure. So in physical life, it is the circulation of the blood, the beating of the heart, the regular performance of every function, that constitutes health and vitality, as well as utility, while quiescence or cessation of action means death. Knowing this to be a fact, often when we speak of the mental or moral life of the world, we find that stability and firmness, which we call constancy, is translated—a full stop put to motion. To be constant to a friend, WH are told, is to preserve the friendship exactly where it is ; to be constant to a party is to cling to it unreservedly; to be constant to opinions, is to hold them precisely as they always have been held ; to be constant to the memory of some honored man, is to maintain and uphold all that he upheld, and condemn all that he condemned. Anyone who is not sat-isfied with this, but who feels within him a desire to push onward and upward, longing to climb heights that have never been trodden, or to enter a new, untried realm of thought or fancy, undertake some new endeavor, such a one is called fickle, inconstant and unstable. There are those who resent the mental growth, and ambitious exten-sion of their friends and fellowmen, when their expanding faculties need more stimulus and greater scope for action, or if they need others to fill their enlarged ca-pacities for influence and activity. Such people will not hesitate to brand these as inconstant and unstable, when the truth is, their only offence has been development. There are partisans in our day, who brand as disloyal any member of their political faith, who detects fallacies and corruptions in it, and thus banish the very element most needful for its own vitality. There are those who adhere so firmly to all the beliefs of some great man of past times and preserve every mole and. wrinkle, so that they cannot imagine the world to have made any progress since, and they would regard any one a traitor to his memory if he should presume to differ with their patron saint's views, or attempt to supplement his thought. This is a mistake ; they forget that a Washington in statesmanship, a Newton in science, a Froebel in educa-tion, a Luther in theology, would not have remained stationary, had they lived on to the present time. Their activity in their own age proves this. Then, too, they fail to perceive that the best way of honoring their mem-ory is not by clinging like wax to the particular point to which they had come, when death stopped their progress, but by cultivating, as they did, the healthy growth of the mental, moral and religious life. To accuse anyone of inconstancy because he cannot stand still in his thought, or in his heart, is like charging the child with inconstancy because he can no longer wear the clothes that once fitted him, or find pleasure in the toys that once amused him. Is constancy then a myth ? Is there nothing to which we owe unhesitating allegiance, and unswerving loyalty ? May we yield to every passing whim, and flutter about in aimless vaccillation with impunity? Assuredly not. There is a constancy, binding and imperative upon us, which makes room for all progress and is in a line with all growth. It is constancy to our highest ideal—to truth, to duty, to fellowman, to self. It tolerates no way sta-tions ; is content with no point short of its highest and best attainment. It honors and clings to all that is noble, all that is pure, all that is wise, all that is true, as far as it can be discovered; it only loosens its hold on one step, to take another in the same direction, higher and loftier. When we fail to move forward, have no desire for more truth, do not long for more knowledge, are satisfied and complacent, content to fold our arms and rest upon our oars, only to drift along with the tide, then we are I tfj&dfci 72 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. inconstant to our highest ideal, and are unfaithful to the voice of conscience. As long as our minds and hearts are growing, will our ideals be rising and expanding, and drawing us upward and onward to follow them. Discouragements and trials may daunt us, sacrifices may be necessary, but advancement must be made, and if pleasure, comfort, or ease stand in the way they must be brushed aside with ruthless hand. Constancy to our own highest thoughts, noblest pur-poses, to the voice of truth whenever we hear it, to the best that we can discover both within us and around us —this is the constancy which goes band in hand with the fullest life, and its richest attainments. Whoever ignores the law of growth in the human mind, or resists its process in himself or others, wars against the very principle of life itself, and all that makes life worth living. The eternal God hath thus peculiarly and richly endowed man, and striving for the attainment of his fullest development and truest ideal is a mark of genuine constancy. What is true in a general sense in all the walks of life, is especially true in the developing and formative period of college days. Don't be afraid to launch out into independent and original thought, nor to strive toward the attainment of a lofty ideal. Let not the fear of adverse criticism or the false accusation of inconstancy bar you from scaling the heights of independent thought and advancement. For remember, a.s "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," so eternal progress is the price of sta-bility. It is thus each year of life comes to us—for each day a clean, white page, and we are artists whose duty it is to put something beautiful on the pages one by one; or we are historians, and must give to the page some record of work, or duty, or victory to enshrine and carry away. THE GBTTYSBUEG MERCURY. 73 -OUR ENCOUNTER WITH COL. LEHMANOSKY.1' BY REV. J. G. HARRIS, '39. This fall fifty-four years ago we attended a meeting of the Synod of the West at Hopeful Church, Ky., ten miles south of Cincinnati, as a fraternal delegate from the English Synod of Ohio. There we met the renowned Pole, Col. Lehmanosky, who boasted that he was present at the burning of Moscow, and the subsequent disastrous retreat of the French ; and also at the unearthing of the Spanish Inquisition, and helped to bring to light the horrid instruments of lorture with which the Spanish officials punished offensive Protestants. At the proper time we presented our credentials, and made a few remarks about the difficulty of gathering our scattered members into strategic points, where our influ-ence would be felt, as in Pennsylvania and Maryland, where we had compact congregations, in every flourishing town. The Col. now rose, and lifted his tall, well-devel-oped form to its full height, and pointing his finger right at us, in a stentorian voice, he began : "Sir, I know more about the Lutheran church than you do." We must con-fess that this rude assault made us feel as if we had an elephant on our hands. He then expatiated upon the great-ness of our Church in Europe, that it was numerically larger than all Protestant denominations put together, not neglecting to emphasize the parts he played in the wars of Napoleon. We soon saw that he was making an effort to impress the minds of the brethren with his immense im-portance. His most extraordinary statement was : "And now I have sheathed my sword, and present myself as a peaceful soldier of Jesus Christ, and can preach in foui-languages, Polish, French, German and English." We did not feel able to unravel this big bundle of red tape, be-cause we had no data but his own assertion. But as he had used us as a victim of his self-gratification, we re-solved to give him a chestnut to feed his vanity. When the crisis came, we told him we were delighted with his grandiloquent speech, and gratified to learn that so pro- 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. found a scholar and distinguished a gentleman was also such a good Lutheran To our surprise he seized the chestnut in good faith, and then all was lovely. What became of the old hero ? By the assistance of some educated friends he prepared some good lectures on the Napoleon wars, and made several tours to the east-ern states, where he sometimes had good patronage. He must have been at Gettysburg, for we learned that Dr. Krauth, ST., pronounced him a myth; but he was more than a myth. He must have seen hard service, and his familiarity with the scenes he described is a convincing proof that he was there. Perhaps his chief fault was his extravagant self-assertion. At length the infirmities of old age drew the curtain of night around him and he fell asleep, probably where he lived, in the peaceful village of Knightstown, Indiana. The brethren of the Synod of the West meant it well, when they licensed him, but the attempt to transform one of Napoleon's war-dogs into a peaceful minister of the gospel was a signal failure. His restless, domineering temper conld not have held a congregation three months. He gave the command and if they did not obey him in-stantly he court-martialed them. The moral of the above event is: Be prepared for every emergency. The moment we step from the door of our peaceful abodes we must encounter the flotsam and jetsam of men and women who shipwrecked fortune, morals, character and even salvation ; we must breathe the atmosphere of a community where wrong sits upon the throne and right stands upon the scaffold; we must look upon the shame of old Noah, perpetrated under the sanction of a government license. The unexpected is sure to come—not once, but often. What are we to do ? Arm ourselves ? Certainly not in times of peace. Experience has taught men, that where one perishes in a thousand for want of the trusted weapon, a dozen perish by assuming the role of mock-heroism. The best panoply in times of trouble and danger is the gar-ment of a meek and quiet spirit! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 75 SHOULD THE GAME OF FOOT-BALL, AS NOW PLAYED, BE ABOL-ISHED BY LAW. AFFIRMATIVE. Probably at no time since the flowery days of Greece has the motto, "Mens sana in corpore sano," been so faith-fully observed as now. Men realize that, if they are to attain to the highest degree of intellectual development, due regard must be paid to physical development. In view of this truth much attention is paid to athletics, and games that tend to develop muscle and at the same time bring into action mental powers have been encouraged. It is safe to say that no game has satisfied these condi-tions so well as foot-ball; hence its great popularity. Foot-ball has been played for many generations, and, among the many other forms of out-door amusements, has usually been given the preference by active and brawny youths. However in the course of many years the game has been changed very materially. From time to time new rules of playing have been adopted, and old ones dropped, until the game, as now played, is very intricate and scientific. Moreover there are in it, at present, not a few objectionable features, the principal one being a large element of danger. In view of this latter consideration, many thinking people have asked for the abolishment of the game by law. As before stated, foot-ball, being very scientific, brings into play mental as well as physical powers ; hence it is natural that we should find it the favorite college game. In fact foot-ball is generally looked upon as dis-tinctively a. college game, and as such we shall first treat it, letting it be understood that, with very few exceptions, the conditions affecting college foot-ball also exist in the game as played by our c;ty and large town teams. It is generally conceded, even by the most zealous ad-vocates of foot-ball, that it is a dangerous form of recrea-tion; but these advocates, on the other hand, endeavor to counter-balance this objection by many arguments in sup- 7G THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. port of the game. They speak of its physical benefits, and set forth, in glowing terms, its demand for scientific playing. They laud it as a magnificent, manly contest, and pay a glowing tribute to it as a help to telf command. It would be rash to say that foot ball has no physical benefits ; but it would be absurd, in view of many exam-ples to the contrary, to say that it gives rise to no serious physical injuries. Granting that foot-ball is a good out-door exercise and a great developer of muscle, are there not other athletic games that may lay just claim to these good qualities, without containing so large an element of danger ? The primary object of out-door games is exercise, but does the modern foot-ball game usually demand more exercise than is conducive to health ? Under the present rules, there are made in nearly every game, plays which. in order to be successful, demand that all regard for life or limb be laid aside. Almost superhuman effort is put forth ; every muscle is strained to its utmost, and the un-naturally heavy and-rapid heart-beats of the player indi-cate the highest pitch of feverish excitement, as with ut-most speed, he runs the gauntlet of those who are endeav-oring as best they can to hurl him violently to the ground. It is needless to describe the various features of the game, they are familiar to all: the frantic rush which accom-panies the kick-off, the dangerous interference and tack-ling, the ludicrous and yet fearful "pile-up" of bodies and limbs, the disentanglement, and then the removal of the unconscious hero (?), who had the misfortune of being beneath about half a ton of avoirdupois, and then the escorting off of the "gridiron" by his comrades of the other hero (?), who only had a broken bone or a bad sprain. And yet, of all games, this is the one fraught with the most physical benefits ! It is a bad reflection on any game, when the presence of physicians is a very important consideration. And yet a first-class game of foot-ball is not complete without one or more doctors upon th3 field to care for the injured. However, the broken or sprained limbs are by no means the most important injuries sustained on the "gridiron.' u THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 77 as many prominent physicians, who have investigated the matter, testify. The injuries received are often inter-nal and are not given particular attention at the time, but in later years their effects become very manifest. More-over not a few men have been made prematurely old by their former long-continued over-exertion on the foot-ball field. Is the game, as now played, well adapted to college athletics ? We answer no. The fundamental idea of col-lege athletics is physical exercise. This exercise is needed in proportion as a student is possessed of, or deficient in, bodily health and strength. But with foot-ball the physi-cally weak man is thrust into the background, while the big, strong fellows invariably push to the front and get the positions on 1he team, and, with their fellow-players, monopolize the field, and the men, not blessed with such healthy bodies have the pleasure of watching the practice from the "bleachers." Hence foot-ball fails here, as the men who need the exercise do not get it, and those who do not stand in such great need of it get more than is essen-tial to health. But it is such a scientific game, and we can not afford to give it up. We believe that the fact that it is so scien-tific is the secret of foot-ball's popularity. However we maintain that this is one of the principal causes of danger. Permit us to refer to the published statement of Mr. Harry Beecher, who was a famous player on the Yale team. Mr. Beecher says in an article published in the New York "World": "Football has been over-scienced, plays are attempted which are perhaps too onerous for the human frame to stand." And there are many other foot-ball men who are beginning to take a similar view of the game as now played. What shall we say to the statement that it is a mag-nificent and manly contest? The nature of our answer will, of course, depend upon what we consider magnificent and manly. We can not think it an exhibition of manliness when twenty-two stalwart young fellows engage in a con-test which ' almost unvariably results in bad bruises, 78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "black-eyes", bandaged beads, or broken bones. More-over there are men in the average game, who either be-cause of the influence of excitement or on account of some personal grudge against an opposing player, will take un-fair advantage of opponents, frequently disabling them for the rest of the game. Besides all this the idea of our young men putting themselves on exhibition in contests for money, is not at all pleasing. Is foot-ball a help to self-command ? In some cases we believe it is; in most cases it is not. From personal ob-servation we know that in the average game many con-temptible things are done by players who are under the influence of anger. The treatment received in foot-ball certainly has no tendency to render a man's temper an-gelic, and although the player may not give verbal ex-pression to his feelings, he nevertheless gives forcible expression to his anger in other ways, not conductive to the comfort of the other player against whom he holds a grudge. Moreover it is not unusual for one to hear of prominent players being disqualified on account of some mean and unfair play, which was made under the impulse of anger. In view of these facts we contend that foot-ball is not very valuable as a help to self-command. In the foregoing we have endeavored to treat our sub-ject with all fairness. We have refrained from citing examples of terrible accidents met with on the foot-ball field. We might have spoken of the many who have been crippled for life, of those whose reason has been destroyed, and of others who have been killed ; but such examples are so familiar that they need no further mention. And now, after this brief review of some of the chief dangers connected with foot-ball, the question arises: Should our government, by its silence, sanction any game that endangers the lives of citizens ? There are not a few forms of amusements and recreations, so called, which, be-cause of their dangerous tendencies, have been declared illegal by the State. Therefore, why should foot-ball which unfortunately has become so strongly characterized by violence and brutality, be tolerated ? We maintain THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 79 that the enactment of a law against the game would be a timely and necessary move. Nor do we stand alone in the positions we have taken, as is shown by the anti-foot ball agitation in the legislatures of two States, one of which has already passed a law making the playing of this game a misdemeanor. Athletic games, all sides considered, are very bene-ficial, and we believe that all that foot-ball needs, in order to be the most desirable game of the athletic field, is the introduction of rules that will do away with the present dangerous plays. However, we must treat the game as it now is played. Hence, in view of the arguments pre-sented, we conclude by repeating what we have been en-deavoring to prove, viz: "The game of foot-ball, as now played, should be abolished by law." R. D. C, '00. SHOULD THE GAME OF FOOT-BALL, AS NOW PLAYED, BE ABOL-ISHED BY LAW. NEGATIVE. Without a doubt, the American people are, next to the French, the most devoted to fads. At present the pre-dominant idea, especially in the college world, is that of athletics. We are foot-ball mad. Thousands clamor for admittance to the great games, and the whole country breathlessly awaits the result. Opposition has been, until this season, swept away by the tide of popular senti-ment. This season, however, accidents have been more nu-merous than in past years, and there is beginning a cry against foot-ball. The legislatures of Georgia, and Mich-igan have passed bills forbidding the playing, in -their states, of any game of foot-ball to which admission is charged. Our question, therefore, is timely, and should be well considered. Its statement is : "Resolved, That the game of foot- Ui I 80 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ball, as now played, should be abolished by law." By this we may understand that the game, in its present form, and consequent danger to players, be abolished and that the abolishment be by law. We shall endeavor to prove that the game of foot-ball is a manly, beneficial exercise, and that its present form reduces personal danger to a minimum. The foot-ball player of to-day attains, under skillful training, the highest possible degree of health and strength. He is fed nothing but the best and most nour-ishing food, is kept from any indulgence that would in-jure him, and every part of his body is trained and exer-cised until it is as perfect as it can be made. This is of the highest value to anyone, but is especially so in the case of the student, whose body, weakened by his seden-tary habits, loses its vigor if he does not take sufficient exercise. In this training he is taught self-restraint, and is kept from forming the bad habits which are too often contracted by students. The game itself provides an out-let for the animal spirits which exist in every man, and which show themselves in others by student pranks and debauches. The foot-ball man is not his own master, but is jealously watched and guarded, and his actions are so guided that he must develop into a robust, splendid speci-men of manhood. Foot-ball cultivates quickness of intellect and percep-tion. "Keep your eye on the ball", is the oft-repeated maxim, and, in following it, the player learns to decide on his best course of action and to act in almost the same moment. He learns to keep a cool head and a steady tem-per. Foot-ball has reached its highest perfection in the contests which take place betweea the leading colleges and universities, and has, indeed, become an all-important factor in college life. The rivalry born in these contests impels the players to their best endeavors, and through it young men learn what loyalty is ; then it is but a step to patriotism. If the United States will ever call forth her THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 81 sons in time of her need, among the first to answer will be the brawny, cool-headed men, who, in their youth, con-tested for alma mater. Foot-ball in its present form involves the least possi-bility of injury that there can be in a game of its nature. Its plays are made with such science, its penalties for foul playing are so strictly enforced, and the members of teams are so well trained that there need be no serious injuries. We are speaking, however, of teams composed of gentle-men, men who endeavor to raise foot-ball. It must be admitted that there are some teams who play so brutally that they should be severely punished. But the real foot-ball player is not of their stamp. Such men as they have laid foot-ball open to the charge of "Brutal! Brutal!" which we often hear now. But is it right to brand the game with the fault of some who pretend to play it ? Yet statistics show that foot-ball has a lower percentage of serious accidents than many other sports which are continually indulged in, such as yachting, swimming, hunting, bicycling, against which we hear almost nothing. In addition, nearly all serious accidents have occurred in games between inexperienced, badly-trained teams, or have happened to men who were not in physical condition. The American people are not so blood-thirsty and its young men are not such fools that they would take de-light in watching or taking part in foot-ball if it were as brutal as some would make us think. We are still far from the Roman idea of sport. It is an insult to our humanity that some should demand its abolishment by law. If foot-ball were so brutal as to require that, it would now be a memory. Public sentiment would have killed it long ago. Its opponents say that, in the case of collegiate foot-ball, it takes too much time from the studies, that it car-ries rivalry too far, that it encourages gambling, that thousands of dollars are wasted on it; but remember that the athletic men have been the best students in the major-ity of cases, that gentlemen will never carry rivalry too wwiBiiS*" 82 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. far, that gamblers will gamble on the slightest pretext, and that this money could be put to no better purpose than the building up of the youth in body and mind. These pessimists draw gloomy analogies between foot-ball and the gladiatorial combats of Rome, and sigh as they think of the Spanish bull-fights. But let us see if we cannot dra,w a more pleasing analogy than these. Do you remember that the Greeks were the most beautiful race in the world ? Do you remember that they regarded symmetry of shape and health of body as among the high-est gifts of the gods ? Have you read of the Olympic games, of how they worshiped their god by athletic con-test, of how he who had now in these had obtained the highest honor, of how many a victor stumbled over the goal with almost dying breath ? Do you know that Greek literature and Greek civilization were the highest the world has ever seen ? So let us hope that the present in-terest in athletics is not merely a fad, but that our young men may continue to build up their bodies, and, at length, with a perfect physical race will come even higher mental development. '00. ABOUT FEMALE EDUCATION IN GERMANY. BY MISS ADELE LUX ENBERG. "German women all know several languages." "Don't you play and sing? Of course you do; all Ger-mans are musical." These are statements often made in talking to or about German men and women ; but others are equally often heard : "There is no higher education for women in Germany." "German women do not care much for education beyond what is offered in the common school!" These two groups of statements differ so widely, that there must needs be some untruth in one or the other. Indeed, there is much in the first and more in the second, which has little, if any, claim to veracity. Truly, many Germans of both sexes know several lan-guages, but more do not, yet they are highly cultured and useful members of society. Many people in Germany THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 83 sing and play, fewer do it well; but there are still a great number—and thanks be to them—who recognize that music is a divine gift not bestowed upon everybody, a rare talent vastly diffsrent from the love of music and not to be won by hammering and squeaking and wasting precious time and money to the vexation of your "nearest" fellow-creatures ; in short, there are a good many German men and women innocent of the practice of bad playing and worse singing; many who do not play at all, though in general they may be persons of high mental develop-ment. So much for what "all Germans know and do." To find out what "German women have not," it is per-haps best to state first what they have. Several years ago, especially while the Women's Con-gress of the World's Fair was in preparation, people went over to Germany to gather facts about the "Woman's Question," or "Female Education in Germany." They brought home doleful reports about that "poor German sister" living in a country without Female Colleges, un-able to receive any education higher than that afforded by common schools, "Msedchenschulen," forced to forget the little she learned, while sitting, for the rest of her life, be-hind the mending-basket or standing before the kitchen fire and washtub. Poor German sisters, I pity you, in-deed, but not for the state of educational affairs in your country, which, like everything else in the "Old Country", have their slow but sure development and which you will improve according to your timely needs! What makes me pity you is rather the wrong idea formed of you, and circulated widely by persons that had no eyes to see, though tongues to speak, while those who did sec you aright, and who did not skim "the Continent and Great Britain in a 3 months' trip", but dwelt with you and in-quired into your conditions, took home in their souls a sympathetic picture of you, and, like something dear and precious, only occasionally disclosed it to near friends in private conversation. They had found the German woman to be for the most part a thorough, well informed and well Snn ili • 1 84 THE GETTYSBURG MERC UKY. read person, though not often a fluent converser, and all that for good reasons. For if, as a rule, the German girl leaves school at 16, she begins it at the tender age of 6, entering then not uufrequently with a fair knowledge of the "3 R's" that haunt American pub-lic school children from 8 to 10 years of age, but acquired, beside other preparation for earnest study, in the Kinder-garten of Germany. And what is offered to the child dur-ing the following 10 years ? That depends upon the school selected by the parents who must consider the future of their children as well as the funds at disposal for their education, which is not free, nor even cheap, but a con-siderable expense, and perhaps just for that reason highly prized and distinctly planned from the very beginning. This being a mere outline, it does not pretend to be ex-haustive of the subject, and only the principal and long established institutions will be considered. There is first of all the "Buergerschule fuer Msedchen", where the native tongue, arithmetic, history, geography, natural sciences and drawing are taught—and well taught—, sometimes also one foreign language. This school can be finished at fourteen, which is the earliest age at which boys and girls are permitted to quit school, education from the 6th to the 15th year being compulsory for both sexes. There is also the "Hcehere Msedchenschule", which has 9 to 10 grades or "Klassen", where beside the afore-mentioned studies, French is taught very early, and English is taken up about three or four years later, giving as a rule a seven years' course in the one, and four to five years in the other language. To Universal History is added History of Art, or of Civilization; to Arithmetic either Plane Geometry or Algebra ; to Botany, Zoology and Min-erology, which take a very important place even in the Buergerschule. The plan of the "Hcehere M. Sch" adds Physics, Chemistry Anthropology (Physiology). Moreover the prolonged course admits a broader and deeper knowl-edge of literature, geography and history, as well as a more frequent and advanced writing of essays. With all this there runs through the entire course of every school, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 85 "BeligionsUnterricht," religious instruction, beginning with Biblical history, continuing through the New Testa-ment and Catechism, ending with Church History. Ge-sang- Unterr-icht"—chorus and choral-singing being also a required study. Considering that all instruction is given by graduated and efficient teachers, and that every study, after it has once been taken up, retains a place throughout the curri-culum— all instruction moving in concentric circles, en-larging on the same subject every consecutive year—it ap-pears as if a young German lady about 16 leaves school with a thorough foundation in everything taught in boys' Gymnasium, with the exclusion only of the dead lan-guages, and the addition of the modern. No mother, how-ever considers her daughter's education finished at that stage, though lack of means may put "Fortbildungsschule", "Selects", "Lyceum" out of her reach. At these institu-tions the same studies may be pursued under University Professors and Specialists, who have also large private classes of female students. Private teaching is of far greater importance and extent in the Old Country than in the New World, and no foreigner without a broad circle of acquaintances among German families can judge of the means of Higher Female education. One of the principal aims of school-instructions is to start the student right in all directions and to fill him with love of study that he or she may go on with it after the years of compulsion have passed. And it must be said that even those girls who cannot afford regular courses after the obligatory time, will study on by themselves, with friends, by reading for and after public lectures, exchanging lessons with foreign-ers, correspondence, and so on. But where do those efficient teachers and specialists come from, as women are not admitted to German Univer-sities ? Are they all men ? By no means all, though a good many of them are, and a lady-teacher must be very effi-cient to come out victorious in the competition. Our Uni-versities are not training-schools for teachers, and a "Ph. D." from a German University means not in the least a mmm 86 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. fine teacher of his specialty, unless the owner of that de-gree have gone through a "Lehrer-Seminar," of which women have the equivalent in the "Lehrerinnen—Bild-ungs— Anstalt" or Teachers' Training Institute. There in a course of three full years, all school studies are taken up from the very beginning, embracing, though in a broader way. the Curriculum of the Hcehere Msedchenschule." This is done for the sake of the knowledge, but more es-pecially for the methods best adapted to the moral end to be reached by each study, and for the special literature pertaining to it. History of Education, as furthered by the lives and works of great teachers of all times and na-tions, psychology and theory of methodical teaching, are studied by means of lectures, reading, essays, theses and practical teaching. All this, including singing and draw-ing, is obligatory ; the two foreign languages and piano playing, however, are elective and lead to the advanced degree of "Teacher for Higher Female Institutions," while Avithoutthem the Diploma is only granted as "Teacher for Girls' Schools." This degree is added to a specification still containing 12 main studies with a final written and verbal examination in each. And these "Lehrerinnen- Seminare," as they are called, are by no means attended only by women who want to make teaching their profes-sion, but by all who desire a higher education than that afforded by the "Hoehere Msedchenschule." As has already been said, this sketch cannot aim at completeness, it only aspires to give a general idea of Ger-man Female educational institutions; especially of those which rank foremost in attendance and age. Of the few "Msedchengymnasien" founded lately in the principal progressive cities and which follow exactly the plan of the male "Gymnasium," mention shall be made, though they are neither old nor numerous enough to take a decided place in the female education of Germany. They are a necessity, as stepping-stones to the opening of the Univer-sities to women, to the Highest Education in Germany. They have been brought about by the efforts of German women ; and if an insight into the older institutions dis- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 87 pels the illusion that there is no higher female Education in Germany, the new "Msedchengymnasium" with its long history of struggle for existence, is an evidence of the great interest taken by German women in higher edu-cation. ATTENTION. BY GEO. A. GREISS. A recent psychology defines attention, as "the volun-tary concentration of the mind on one thought object." If the term mind is used to designate the entire psychical action, we may define attention, as the concentration of the powers of thought, feeling and volition upon one ob-ject or idea. Attention, as defined is voluntary and not instinctive. As the will varies in strength in different persons, so the attention of those persons varies in accu-racy and intensity. Most psychical states, however, are affected to a great-er or less extent by the physical condition of the person. Indeed, the physical condition of the individual is no small factor in the matter of attention. Here, then we must take into account the circumstances, and environ-ment of the individual, for they determine to a certain de-gree the physical condition of the person. Thus two ele-ments must be considered in the subject of attention. The one is the will, or the voluntary power of the mind over the mental states ; the other is environment. If the will is strong and the environment is favorable, the quality of attention will naturally be of a high order ; but if the conditions just mentioned are the reverse, then the attention will be of an inferior grade. Very often these ruling factors in attention are brought into direct antagonism, by the one being stronger than the other. To have concentration of thought, the physical must frequently be overcome by the psychical. Let us illus-trate. A student at a university is studying the doctrine of 88 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the "Person of Christ." After a refreshing walk he is seated at his study-table. He is in a proper state of mind to master the subject before him and he resolves to do so. He opens his book and begins to study the genus idiu-malicum. His entire mental power is directed upon this one subject. The lesson becomes interesting. The stu-dent understands each paragraph, as he proceeds. He comes to the end of the subject, and with a smile of satis-faction says, "I have mastered it." Leaving this subject, he enters upon the next in order, known as the genus ap- Mismaticum, with the same determination. But he hard-ly has begun to read the first line, when some one above him begins to play "Home sweet home," on the violin. The first few strains divert his attention very slightly from the study before him ; but as the music continues, interest in study becomes less. Before the selection is half render-ed, the theological study is changed into a reverie of home. Perhaps the mind of the student cannot be firmly fixed upon his study for the remainder of the evening, and time which might have been profitably spent is lost. This is force of environment. If the will of the student is strong, he can by repeated efforts overcome environment. It is not necessary for any rational being to remain, bound by environment. Every person can, if he tries, rise above his surroundings. Discordant surroundings should be removed if possible. If however the environment is unavoidable, then the will must be used to overcome the obstacle. Since most environment cannot be easily and successfully removed, we see that the will is the principal factor in the matter of attention, and a requisite in deep study. If men could subject their bodies entirely to their minds, who could tell, what results we would have, to what flights of oratory we would soar and what profound depths of philosophy we would fathom. A healthy body is also necessary for intense action of the mind. If the maxim, a sound mind in a sound body, holds true at all, it certainly does in attention. To cultivate a strong will and maintain a healthy body becomes therefore an urgent duty to the diligent student. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 89 The object of the writer is not to discuss attention as a psychical state or its place in psychology, but to look at and point out the necessity and value of an acutely culti-vated attention to the student, and also to show the de-mands of the age, for men of intensity and concentration of thought. This age is called an age of specialists. It demands men who will master their particular sphere of life. Since attention to any particular work, leads to the mastery of that work, and since mastery leads to perfec-tion, there is hardly any further proof needed for the ne-cessity of earnest and energetic men. When a chemist wishes to discover silver in a stone supposed to contain the precious metal, he does not hold the whole bulk into the flame, but takes one particle, puts it on charcoal and concentrates all the heat possible on it by means of the blow-pipe. The physician, in order to diagnose a case, does not take the patient and place the entire body under a microscope, but places one microbe or germ of the disease under the powerful microscope which concentrates all the rays possible upon this one atom. In our studying we must direct all our attention upon the subject before us and bring all the rays of intellect and reason to converge upon one object of thought. Then we can dig out the nuggets of truth and present them to others who are desirous to receive them. Why is military discipline so rigid ? In order to ac-complish what is required of a soldier, strict attention to one thing is necessary. The same reason holds true for the rigor of German universities. For a complete mastery of any study, the mastery of the parts of that study is necessary. Thus we see that the pursuit of our studies re-quires the utmost attention on our part. The reason we very often do n^t grasp a subject is not found in want of mental power, but in the want of application of that power. Why do we go to recitations sometimes in anxiety about the questions that are about to be asked ; or when we are quizzed why do we give answers which either have no bearing on the question, or are at best only a conglom. eration of phrases not conveying any sense ? The answer 00 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. to this question is found in the fact, that we have either applied ourselves too little to the study of the lesson or have not given the proper attention to the question. Some days we go to the lecture room with a clear mind and a healthy body, We can follow the reasoning of the professor without any difficulty. Every argument seems clear and conclusive. When we review the lecture in our rooms, it seems to be a part of our knowledge, and neither new nor strange. On another day we go to the same lecture room. We hear the same professor. The hour drags. The lecture seems dull. The reasoning is obscure. In reviewing this lecture, it seems entirely new and strange. We ask our-selves what is the cause of this change. We remember that we heard the same professor both times; that he showed the same earnestness. We recall, that we followed the lecture with eye and ear each time. The reason for the change is this : the first day we followed the lecture with our closest attention, while on the second day our eyes and ears followed the lecture mechanically and our minds were occupied with thoughts about things miles away and foreign to the lecture entirely. There is an old adage: "Beware of the man of one book " Why ? Because he directs all his energies toward one object. If we would master a lecture or a lesson, we must concentrate our thoughts upon them while studying or listening. "The mind cannot do two things at the same time." The necessity of attention is only superseded by its value. In speaking or reading attention commands attention. When an essay or speech has been well thought out, so that all the materials gathered and the truths used, point to one central thought, it will come with such force when it is presented, that the man of average intelligence will listen. Unity of style and harmony of material, as well as logical reasoning in any production, require the closest attention on the part of the author. But intensity of thought and concentration of mental energy is required not only in the preparation of an essay or speech, but also THE GETTYSBURG MtiRJURY 91 jn the delivery of the same. In the delivery of any pro-duction, there are two parties concerned. The hearer, as well as the speaker, has a part to do. Since earnestness and conviction are the result of per-severing study, and since they go very far toward com-manding the attention of an audience, then the speaker should give his theme thorough investigation and diligent study. Dr. Schaeffer once said, "A teacher is the hest disci-plinarian who says least about discipline and keeps his scholars busy." So he who says l3ast about attention but gives his audience something about which to think, com-mands the best attention. The object of any speech should be to move the hearers. In order to accomplish this the speaker must show by gesture and delivery that he means what he says and that he is a man of earnest convictions. Otherwise he will fail. To-day the world does not notice a careless and listless man, much less call him into a position of public trust. The value of attention is further seen in the fact that when a man has well mastered his subject, embarrassment is removed and time does not hang heavily on his hands. The speaker, being well prepared to discuss his theme, for-gets himself and his audience, and loses himself in the depth of his reasoning. But no matter how well the speaker may be prepared, if the audience is indifferent, the speech has again lost its force and not accomplished its intended purpose. The hearer must also practice and cultivate attention, so that he can follow the speaker in his nights of oratory and in his labyrinth of reason. Be-sides all this it is a mark of good common sense as well as of a disciplined mind, to listen, even if the subject of the speech and the matter of the same is dull and uninterest-ing. There is nothing more discouraging to a speaker than to have his andience look on the floor, or out of the window, or anywhere else than in his face. Give a man your eyes and ears and you will have the best efforts. When he sees that the audience shows an interest in what he says, the speaker will be filled with enthusiasm and 92 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. will carry away all that come within the compass of his eloquence. Since the age demands men who are masters of their situation, and since we are about to go out to battle with the vital problems of the age, let us quit ourselves like men and use our talents toward one end. Then we will attain the highest ideals and win the greatest laurels. THE NOBLEST MAN 1 KNEW. True nobility of character involves much, and, with few exceptions, exists only in the ideal. Absolute truth-fulness, perfect unselfishness, spotless virtue—these are the attributes of a noble man, and he in whose character all are embodied, is surely one whose friendship should be sought. I have known but one man whose character combined all these virtues in the highest degree. He was a friend of my father when both were country boys; and I have often heard of their starting to college together. They had both been fired by ambition to be something more than farmers, and accordingly worked hard to save money enough for the first year at college. They went to a small college in Pennsylvania, and informed the President that they had heard that he could turn out preachers in two years, and that they wanted him to get to work on them. He replied that he could hardly do that, but would do the best for them that he could ; and so they went to work. "Dan" has told me many stories of their early college life, of how "Dave" was always jolly and ready for fun, if it was clean fun; of how he was always without money, yet cheerful and happy; of how, though he was not specially quick in learning, he could hold an audience nearly spell-bound, whether speaking on serious or trivial subjects. After they had passed through Freshman and Soph-more years together, they separated, "Dan" going to obtain a fuller education at a larger college, while "Dave," eager to begin his life's work, abridged his course, and, after two years, sailed away as a missionary. i THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 93 He labored in Africa for nearly twenty-four years. Assistants sent him died or returned in broken health. He buried a wife and three children, victims of the awful climate. But, aided by a splendid constitution and a cheerful disposition, he stuck to his post until friends forced him to leave it. That man was David A. Day, D. D., our Lutheran missionary in Liberia, and the church is now mourning his death at sea, within a little over a hundred miles of the home-land which he longed to reach before he died. To my mind his character combined all the elements of true nobility, true self-sacrifice and virtue; and with these were joined a cheerfulness and rea ly tact which made him inimitable. He was a man of great talent, who could have risen to fame as a theologian and preach-er, but he gave h s life for a neglected people, and his work among them will be an everlasting monument to him. His last words, were "More men, fill up the ranks ;" but who can take his place ? L. A. W., '00. OH, TAKE ME BACK TO GETTYSBURG. (Tune,—Old I'olks at Home.) Around de campus cannons ruuibled, Long years ago. Deie seldom was de ball e'er fumbled, And all de men played low. Now time has covered up their foot-prints, De battle's o'er, And peace reigns over town and campus, De cannon's used no more. CHORUS: All de dearest recollections, Cluster 'round dat spot; Oh, take me back to Gettysburg, She never will be forgot. All round de old place I wandered, Happy and free, And on de midnight studies pondered, Still happiness found me. wtssmM Ij. 94 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. When I was with my classmates playing, Happy was I, Oh! seems I hear them now a-sayiug, "Boys, we will wiu or die." CHORUS— One little room among de others, One dat I love; Its dear remembrance o'er me hovers, No matter where I rove. Oh, if I see those faces never Of class-mates dear, Yet time in vain our bonds can sever, 'Though we be far or near. CHORUS— EDITORS' DESK. "We see not a step before us A s we tread on another year ; But the past is in God's keeping, The future his mercy will clear." * * * Miss Adele Luxenberg, teacher of German in Wilson i Female College at Chambersburg, spent the vacation with Mrs. Dr. Richard of Gettysburg. She was educated in sev-eral of the best institutions'"^ Germany, and is an accom-plished linguist. Her article, "About Female Education in Germany," will be read with interest. * * * WE are reminded of the fact that only two fleeting years separate us from the era toward which we have long looked with great solicitude. What great projects have been set on foot to be accomplished during the last "decade of the 19th century!" A few years ago it was prophesied that all the heathen would hear the gospel yet | this century. Arbitration was to be substituted for inter-national war. There were to be no open saloons, no illiter-acy, no wage, nor race problem, etc., by the 20th century. Who is responsible for the failure to realize these much desired achievments ? Questions like these come to us at this season and few of us can say that we have done as much towards their solution as we might have done. J. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 95 This is a good time to get on the right side of all subjects which affect us. The wise man changes his mind often, the fool never. Let us be stronger advocates of truth. Let us, as students, resolve to do more for our college and her interests. Be enthusiastic. Make better use of the oppor-tunities offered us in class-room, library, literary society, in gymnasium, in society. Economize time, think more, read more, write more. * * SURELY we cannot fault those in a situation to encour-age literary effort with not having done much for us. Those who can be reached by a prize are now encouraged by prizes aggregating nearly $150 right in our own institu-tion. We publish the liberal offer of the Century Co. to college men. If prizes do not tempt to launch into the unknown but enchanting sea of literary experience, there are left the considerations of personal honor, of cnlture, of advertising our almamafcr. Fiction, narration, descrip-tion, verse, are kinds of composition too seldom attempted by us, each of which, like virtue, brings its own reward. ALL students who have had an opportunity to attend any convention of the Young Men's Christian Associa-tion never fail to speak of the practical benefit derived from such meeting. Judging from the reports sometimes given by delegates an indifferent person might be in-fluenced to conclude that there would be no particular advantage in being present at such a gathering. This is a great mistake. You cannot always judge the merits of a student convention by the reports alone. Among the many blessings imparted to every student who attends a convention in the proper spirit, there are three which are particularly manifest. His views are broadened, his spiritual life is wonderfully deepened, and a greater zeal for earnest Bible study is aroused. The pronounced success of the Y. M. C. A. all over the world, as well as all other young people's societies, is due in great measure to the inspiration received through 9 . MPPY, Merchant Tailor. 4', Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. G. E. SPANGLER, (Success? to J, VV. Eichollz & Co.) Ill: U.F.I; IN PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSIC, MUSICAL INSTR UMENTS, STRINGS, Etc. YORK STREET, ist Square, Gettysburg. 1108 THESTNTTT STREET, PHILADELPHIA. Wright's Engraving House, HAS become the recognized leader in unique styles of COLLBQ E and FRA-TERNITY ENORAVINUS and STATION-ERY, College and Class-Day Invitations, engraved and printed from steel plates ; Programmes, Menus, Wedding and Re-ception Invitations, Announcements, etc. etc., Examine prices and styles before ordering elsewhere. 60 Visiting Cards from New Engraved Plates $1.00. ERNESTA. WRIGHT, uoS ChestnutSt., Philadelphia. ~ JOHN L. SHEADS, NEW CIGAR STORE Next door to W. M. Depot, Gettysburg, Pa. P. F. HENNIGT" —DEALER IN— Bread, Rolls, Pretzels Crackers, YORK STREET* GETTYSBURG. ^"Reasonable Rates to Clubs. L. D. IQ Main St., Gettysburg. Grocer, Confectioner and Fruiterer. ICE CREAM and OYSTERS in SEASON. GE TTYSBURG, PA., Main St. Free 'Bus to and from all trains. Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per Jay. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. DINNER WITH DRIVE OVER FIELD WITH 4 OR MORE $I-35- JOHN E. HUGHES, Prop'r Go To C. A. BLOCHER'S .FOR. Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, &c. All Kinds of Jewelry. Repairing a Specialty. Post Office Corner, Centre Square. PHOTOGRAPHER, NO. 3 MAIN STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA. Our new Enameled Aristo Por-traits are equal to Photos made anywhere, and atany price. ^^^^^m^^^^^^m FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. BASE BALL SUPPLIES, Spaldings League Ball, Mits, Masks, etc., Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Tennis, Golf, Cricket, Track and Field Gymnasium Equipments and Outfits. Complete Catalogue Spri?ig and Summer Sports Free. "THE NAMJE THE GUARANTEE" A. G. SPKLDING, & BROS., New York, Philadelphia, Chicago. S7G. Spangler, & Co. ■&-E ■+- -*■ SvS'l, Fine Groceries,, ♦ ••• +. ^-Q2) Telephone 39, 102 E. Middle St. S. J. CODOt^I, Jr»., DRUGGIST. .DHAI.gR IN. Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Ar-ticles, Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE STREET. R. H. CULP, Second Square, p m York Street. College Emblems, EJVULi ZOTHE, Engraver, Designer and Manufact'g Jeweler. ig SOUTH NINTH STREET; PHILADELPHIA, PA. SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks. Society Badges, Coih'ge Buttons, Fins. Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All goods ordered through C.H.Tilp. BOHRDINC" By Day, Week or Month. Rates reasonable. House equipped with all modern improvements. GROCERY STORE in same buildiug. Full line of goods kept and sold at small profits. House aud Store located on Cor. of College Campus, opposite Brua Chapel. (^"Public Patronage Solicited Samuel H. Tangninbangh, Prop. MENEELY BELLI Troy, N. Y. Manufacturers of SUPERIOR BELLS. The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania College was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. \m$ Ed^Ei^r JotynJ. Thomson's Sons —DEALER IN— Eats, Shirts, Shoes, Ties, Umbrellas, Gloves, Sal,■//.els, Hose, Poeket Books. Trunks, Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc., AMOS ECKERT. Job pointer1 ! WEAVER BUILDING, Centre Square. IMPORTERS AND JOBBERS OF * DRUGS, + Nos. IB and 18 W. Qerman street, BALTIMORE, MD. Offer to tlie trade their large aad well-selected stock of DRUGS, MEDICINES, CHEMICALS and PERFUMERY. Make a specialty to have on hand everything required by Pharmacists. A complete stocK can at any time be selected or wants supplied. ALONZO h. THOIvIPSEN, ?Ianui*ar IffiB Iffl I ■ . HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Located on Centre Kquan where McClellan House. formerly slood. GETT'lBBliK';, PA. RATES 82 I'KIt DAY. It, is the acknowledged Lead] ing Hotel of Hettystrg Uean e,l throughout with steam;ho| or cold "Ballis: rommodio Sample Rooms: Ditinm-r'iomJ S, capacity 200; hits a.Cusine uf j par excellence Headquauenj i for League American VVheefl man. Headquarters coinmeg cial travelers. Headquarti military or civic Free 'iniH to and from nil j trains. —- * ~ - H. * I>. K.Miller Prop's. EIMER & AMEND Manufacturers and Importers of CHEMICALS ani CHEMICAL APPARATUS, 205, 207, 209 & 211 Third Avenue, Corner iSth Street. NEWYORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meis-sen Porcelain, Purest Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Microscopes, and Bacteriologi-cal Apparatus, Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. — Established 1876 — PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler. Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons, No. 10. Balto. St. Gettysbnrg. Pa. "PRICES ALWAYS RIGHT" THE LUTHERAN PUBLISHING HOUSE. <• No. 42 North Oth St.,] "v! PHILADELPHIA, PA. ] Acknowledged Headquarters for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in the way of Books for Churches, Families, Col-leges, and Schools, and lit-erature, for Sunday Schools. Please Remember That by sending your orders M us.j you help hutld up and develop 01 fj the Church institutions, with i
AjN \Z r t SK*-*—*— DECEMBER, 1900 Qettysbtiir Mercury CONTENTS The End of the Nineteenth Cen-tury, 205 Pennsylvania College at the Close of the Nineteenth Cen-tury, 206 The Belles 208 The Mysterious Picture, . . 211 Father Hawkin's Observations, 215 King- of Reformers, . . .217 An Old Camera, . . .220 Editor's Desk 222 Elements of Inspiration in the Earliest Greek Poets, . . 224 Words add Things, . 228 A Financier, . 233 Book Review 236 Among Our Contemporaries . 236 FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to Tk J° Co Wile Prifltiig ftwe CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Leadership 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. IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S fURNISHING 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 ::::::: FALL 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. : : : EDGARS. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES Chambersburg St., Gettysburg ST McPherson Block. No. li BALTIMORE STREET THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG. PA., DECEMBER, 1900. No. 7. THE END OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. "Old Time's great clock, that never stops, Nor runs too fast nor slow, Hung up amid the worlds of space Where wheeling planets glow; Its dial-plate the orbit vast Where whirls our old earth free— Has pushed its pointers round again And marked a century." «^2> 'T'HE century ends. The startling records of to-day are being ■^ stamped upon the last lap of the scroll. Marvelous have been the achievements of the last ten decades. Strange are the inscriptions on the escutcheons of the nations of the world. May the American not cease to hallow the ground where rest the ashes of the sages, patriots and warriors! Remembered be the deeds of the fathers ; long live their admonition ! Soft be the breeze that sways the trees on the famous fields of battle! Forgotten the strife that stained our soil with blood! Firm be the future grasp of Labor's callous hand—recognized, in every sphere, the noble and the true! Appreciated be the heritage of the fathers ! Bared be every arm in defense of our common, sacred trust! Solid be the phalanx in freedom's holy cause! 206 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE AT THE CLOSE OP THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. E. S. BREIDENBAUGH, SC. D. T N this last issue of the MERCURY for the nineteenth century it *■ is proper to consider Pennsylvania College in connection with the present condition of higher education in our country. While not attempting a complete survey, a few glimpses of the field will be a source of congratulation and encouragement in our work, and may be an incentive to further effort for advancing the interests of our college. During the last third of the century there has been a large in-crease in the number of college students, proportionally a larger increase than the increase in population. There are no available statistics to show whether the number of Lutheran young people in institutions of learning has grown in proportion to the growth of our church membership, there are sufficient facts to show that there has been a very decided increase in the number of our young peo-ple who are having the advantages of the higher education. This increase in number of college students is due in part, if not wholly, to the growing conviction that a higher education is advantageous to men in every field of activity. While formerly the college graduates rarely entered any other profession than the ministry, law or medicine, we now find a minority of all the college graduates entering these professions. In our own college we find in recent years an increasing number of our graduates entering on business or technical pursuits. This change in the life work of college men has accompanied and has been in part the cause of and in part the effect of changes in the college curriculum. There have been introduced into the curriculum many important subjects, which in the early part of the century were hardly thought of in connection with a college education. This large increase in number of subjects taught has necessitated the introduction of electives into the requirements for entrance to and graduation from college. The same conditions have lead to the opportunity being given to the student to substi-tute for Greek, L,atin and Mathematics, which formerly occupied nearly the whole of the college time, Modern Languages, Natural and Physical Sciences, History, Politics, etc., thus giving the student the choice of subjects in which he may specialize. At the same time the requirements for entrance and graduations have THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 207 been notably increased. In all departments of study there have been changes in method of work which increase the labors of the teachers and require more and better study on the part of the pupils. Pennsylvania College has enlarged her courses of study —has adopted to a fair degree elective courses of study—and in every department has increased the requirements for graduation. These changes in subjects of study and methods of work have necessitated an increased teaching force and enlarged equipment. Our college has in recent years somewhat increased her teaching force and added laboratories of chemistry, biology and elementary mechanics. We have also greatly improved our accommodations for class work in new and convenient buildings. The duty of our college is not rivalry with our neighbors, nor is it at present to do university or technical work, but is to do the best possible for our constituency in providing a sound college training such as is demanded by the present times, to this end we need, and we need greatly, additional teaching force, increased facilities for laboratory work and larger library equipment. Our professors are required to teach too many subjects, and other subjects barely included or not included in our curriculum require attention which cannot be given them. While there has been no increase in the personal interest teachers have for their pupils, there has been a change in methods which requires more immediate individual work between teacher and pupil. This personal teaching in all subjects, while greatly benefiting the student, is a great drain on the vital power of the teacher. As the number of pupils increases the personal attention to individual pupils must lessen unless the teaching force is in-creased, thus enabling each teacher to have fewer subjects and a smaller number of pupils. Co-education has been adopted to a limited degree by Penn-sylvania College. If we desire to enlarge this work, which can easily be done, we must have suitable accommodations for the young women. There has been in our colleges a great change in the dormitory and other accommodations for students. What thirty or forty years ago was regarded as excellent is now deemed wholly inadequate by parents and pupils. In some places these provisions have grown to extravagant proportions, while Pennsylvania College 208 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY has not developed to such a degree, we are in these respects fully abreast of the times. We find the college student yearly taking a greater interest in matters outside the college curriculum—this when properly guarded, is wise and of educational advantage. Our students have shown reasonable activity and had fair success in many of these enterprises, such as athletics, musical clubs, publications and debating clubs. With all these changes in college work—with the greater pressure of material things, with the ever increasing claims of study on the energy of the student and the accompanying greatly increased personal freedom and self-control of the individual student there has been an equally increased interest in religious subjects—this is shown in many ways, not the least being the activity of the College Y. M. C. A. and the accompanying Bible study. In this brief summary of the changing conditions of college work—and we believe they are changes for the better—we find that Pennsylvania College has been advancing in the same direction as the general educational world, and while there is always room for fuller growth, we feel encouraged with the past and are hope-ful for the future. These improving conditions are due to the diversified and united labors of trustees, presidents, professors,students,numerous liberal friends and the general loyalty of the alumni of the college. It is in reliance on the continued energy and loyalty of all these friends that we are assuredly hopeful for the future of our college. THE BELLES. J. B. BAKER, '01. Hear the singing of the belles— Choir belles! What a world of vanity their rhapsody foretells ! How they wrinkle, wrinkle, wrinkle, All the muscles of their bite 1 While the gems that oversprinkle All their tresses, seem to twinkle With a hyaline delight; THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 209 Keeping time, time, time, In a faintly falling: rime, To the nasal proclamation that so dissonantly wells From the belles, belles, belles, belles, Belles, belles, belles— From the singing and the ringing- of the belles. II Hear the flippant summer belles, Giddy belles! What a string- of soda bills their coquetry foretells ! Throug-h the balmy air of nig-ht How they draw us out of sight! From their starting, darting eyes All aglow, What a funny feeling hies To the bosom of the lover, while he spies Not the bow. Oh, from out those spheric cells, What a gush of repartee extravagantly wells ! How it swells ! How it dwells On the future ! how it tells Oh the philter that impels To the flushing and the blushing Of the belles, belles, belles, Of the belles, belles, belles, Belles, belles, belles— To the flushing and the blushing of the belles. Ill Hear the loud alarum belles— Infant belles ! What a train of muffled oaths their noisiness compels ! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the sire, In a mad expostulation with his warm erratic ire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor To resign the job forever That he undertook alas, too soon. Oh, the belles, belles, belles What a tale their horror tells Of the crier! 210 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY How they squirm, and kick, and roar, What a horror they outpour On the palpitating bosom of the sire ! Nor the father fully knows, By the wiggling-. And the wriggling, How the sulphur ebbs and flows ; But the mother t'is who tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking and the swelling in the squealing of the belles,- Of the belles— Of the belles, belles, belles, belles, Belles, belles, belles— In the squealing and the reeling of the belles. IV Hear the moaning of the belles— Ancient belles ! What a world of sympathy their monody compels ! Through the day and oft by night, How our tears spring into light, At the melancholy mumble of their tone ; For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the lovers—ah, the lovers— They who go and wed some others, Altar prone, And who strolling, strolling, strolling, By discarded belles alone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone— They are neither false nor true men— They are neither brute nor human— They are fiends, And their king the devil, tolls, And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A threnode from the belles ! And his scaly bosom swells With a threnode from the belles! And he dances and he yells ; Keeping time, time, time, In his Tartarean grime, To the threnode of the belles— Of the belles; Keeping time, time, time, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 211 In his Tartarean grime, To the throbbing- of the belles— Of the belles, belles, belles,— To the sobbing- of the belles ; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In his Tartarean grime, To the groaning of the belles— Of the belles, belles, belles,— To the moaning of the belles Of the belles, belles, belles, belles— Belles, belles, belles— To the moaning and the groaning- of the belles. THE MYSTERIOUS PICTURE. STANLEY C. FOWLER, '04. 44QPEAKING of mysteries reminds me of a very curious, yes, ^ startling experience I had when a struggling young artist in Paris," said Wilbur Cutting. " What was that? " we asked. " Go ahead, let her rip, said Coleman, the irrepressible, "we're all attention." Wilbur puffed at his favorite corn-cob pipe and we all drew our chairs nearer the grate fire which burned cheerily and lighted up our cozy club-room. Presently we heard Wilbur's voice from behind a cloud of tobacco smoke, saying: "I was searching for a new model to pose for my 'Abraham.' I had been told of an old, patriarchal Jew, living in one of the many by-ways in the Latin quarter. While walking down a dingy, narrow alley, my attention was attracted by a picture lying on a heap of canvasses, in an old curiosity shop. Drawn by an irresistible impulse I entered and purchased it from the shop-keeper, a queer, little, old Orient, who seemed eager to dispose of it. I took it under my arm and hurried back to my studio, in-tending to retouch it. I placed it on my easel and scrutinizing it closely, marked what a peculiar face it was. Pure oval, the fore-head low and square, eyebrows high-arched meeting over a long, Roman nose, the nostrils were contracted, the mouth, tight shut, was cruel and sinister. The eyes had been scratched through the pupils, completely destroying its expression ; the hair, long 212 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY and black as a raven's wing, was painted as though blown by the wind and finally blended into the deep crimson background. The head had the appearance of flying through the air, for there was neither shoulders nor neck. I failed to recognize the style and searched in vain for the artist's name. "I was soon at work on the eyes, hoping to complete them before the arrival of Archie Armstrong, a young American, who, attracted by the gayeties of Bohemian life, had adopted them as his profession. He had a rich, indulgent, spinster aunt, living in Paris, who descended periodically upon his studio, which was across the hall from mine, and purchased all his masterpieces. To tell the truth, the only parts of them not painted by me were his signatures, which he persistently painted in the brightest colors and in the most conspicuous places. He was expecting a visit from his aunt that afternoon and was about to make a raid upon my studio and carry off all the paintings, finished or not. "As I painted the eyes, it seemed as though an invisible hand was guiding or directing my brush. They were soon finished and I stepped back to see my work. What an expression ! Simply hellish. The eyes seemed like living coals of fire. They burned and blazed and seemed to pierce one through and through. I felt a most peculiar tingling sensation. "I looked at lny hands. No longer were they covered with oil and paint stains, but were changed to long, slender white hands with tapering fingers. My velvet jacket and paint covered trous-ers were changed to an evening suit. Even the studio had changed to a drawing-room elegantly furnished. "Stepping over to one of the mirrors that adorned the wall, I looked in. I started back with a cry of surprise and alarm. The face that had stared at me from the canvass now gazed back at me from the mirror. Could it be possible? Was it I? I raised my hand to my face and when the glass reflected the action, I knew then that I had changed. "Presently I heard footsteps and turning, beheld a young man advancing towards me with outstretched hands to welcome me. I hastened to meet him and he led me into an inner room where a young woman was reclining gracefully on a high-backed, old-fashioned seat. She blushed prettily as we entered and he presented me to her—his wife. As I bowed low and kissed the tips of her dainty fingers, I had an uncontrollable desire to kill THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 213 her, take possession of me. I cannot explain it. It seemed as though I must kill her or myself. "The young man took me to his "den" where we were soon drinking her health. I took up a jeweled dagger from a table and told him of some murders I had heard of done under hypnotic influence. He asked if I believed in hypnotism and I replied in the affirmative, saying, that I could hypnotize him if I so desired. He seemed startled but continuing to drink heavily was soon in a stupor. "Seizing the dagger I stole into the room where his wife was; I raised it aloft and struck with all my might, again and again. As I felt the blade sink into the soft flesh, I could not refrain from laughing exultingly. I knew that when he was aroused from his stupor he would believe himself guilty of the crime. I think I must have been changed into the devil, for I chuckled and gloated over the misery that would come to the young man. "I stole away still gloating over my crime. Suddenly my face grew warmer and warmer. It seemed that flames were creeping slowly over my head. I screamed aloud for agony and then I must have fainted. "When I regained consciousness, I found myself in my own bed with Archie leaning over me and the.morning sun pouring in the window. " 'What has happened ?' I asked. " 'Blamed if I know,'said Archie, rubbing his head. 'Icame yesterday afternoon and nearly banged my fists off, trying to make you let me in. I heard you sputtering and as time was valuable, I pushed the door in and found you staring at the queerest picture I ever saw. You turned around to me sputtering gibberish and I took you into your room. I thought you had been indulging too freely. In the night you stabbed your lay figure with your pallet knife. You'll have a nice job replacing that gown. You had it spoiled before I discovered you. You've been raving until you screamed just now,' said Archie, looking disgustedly at me. ' 'I looked at my easel. The picture was gone. "'Where's the picture?' I asked. Archie looked sheepish and said: 'Well, auntie would have it. There's the check on the table.' % % if. ■%. % "That afternoon as I was relating my experience to Archie, the 214 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY door flew open with a bang and in stepped his aunt with head erect and fire in her eye. Without returning Archie's greeting, she opened hostilities thus: " 'What do you mean by selling me that picture, sir ! I don't believe you painted it at all! I think the devil did ! ' " 'Why, auntie, you surprise me. What's the trouble,' asked Archie. " 'Trouble! Humph! I should say so. Trouble! There's been nothing but trouble since I brought that thing to my house. Why, when I had Henry hang it in my saloon with the rest of your paintings, he acted like a lunatic. Tried to stab me ! He raved so all last night about that picture that I took it down this morning and threw it in the fire, and as I did so, it shrieked! My nerves have had such a fright that it'll be months before they'll get quieted again. How did you ever get it, tor I don't believe you painted it? ' she finally asked Archie. " 'Well, I'll confess I didn't paint it. My friend Wilbur bought it in an old shop and I thought since you liked it, you know, when—er—that is—I thought you would like it better if you thought that I painted it. I am sorry that I deceived you, but shan't do it again,' said Archie, looking very penitent. " 'You'd better not, for I am very shrewd. I thought you didn't paint it,' said his aunt, and turning to me said: " 'Mr. Wilbur, if you would turn your attention toward art, as my gifted nephew has, and paint a few pictures like his, it would be better than tramping around buying such things as that picture and calling them your own as I guess you were going to do. I hope this will be a lesson to you, Archie. Don't follow in your friend's footsteps again or attempt to deceive me again, for I am too shrewd for you !' and off she stamped, followed by Archie, whose face was purple with suppressed laughter. I was in deadly fear of the eruption and heaved a sigh of relief as they disappeared. "All those symptoms Archie's aunt attributed to his shame and mortification he felt at being caught trying to fool her. "I made inquiries afterwards at the shop about the picture. All that I could learn was that the shop-keeper had bought it at the auction of the art treasures of a young man who had killed his wife and died crazy. It was said that he had imported the picture from the Orient, where it had been, probably, for many I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 215 years. It was the shop-keeper who had scratched out the eyes, for he said they haunted him. Whether or not I should have died mad, as did its former possessor, had it not been destroyed, I can't tell." e^pj FATHER HAWKINS' OBSERVATIONS. CHAS. W. WEISER, '01. Well, Lizer, I'se been up ter town, Ther college fur ter see, And talk about yer country Jakes— Ther same as you and me. Of bildins fine I saw a heft, That's fine as ever I've seen, And trees, and signs—"Keep off ther grass' I guess because its green. The Profs' got lots of larnin, And plenty fur ter spare ; But me thinks they need it all, Ter train thim fellers thare. So guess we'll send our Kier, Ter eddicated be, Fur he must have more larnin, Than ever you an me. I saw thim fellers go A stragglin long ther walk, Ther one he looked so strait ahead As any line of chalk. He looked not ter ther right er left, But just strait down his nose, And where that little nose did point, He always surly goes. Ther one did run his hands, Inter his pockets deep. With hangin head and crooked back, He ter the class did creep. His knees did knock each other gainst, And pigeoned were his toes. Well such er sight I niver seed Where ever I do goes. 216 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Another one went walkin long, A lookin at ther cloud ; His nose er pointin in ther air, His heels er stumpin loud. He wore er collar high er enough, Fer any six months calf ; And tie like my red handkichief, That made er feller laugh. And one he said "Wha don chu knaw" I took my "cut" ter day ; Another one he got er "zip," And wished he'd stayed away. They say they "horse," and "make a stab, An some times make a "break." But if I had them in my field, I'd make them take a rake. When yer do hear a college chap, Yer don't know what he says I guess its Latin—but don know, In all my born days. We send our men from off ther farm— They have some common sense ; Ther "city's" call them "greenies" But grapple for ther pence. But soon they larn to shporty dress, And know ther college slang, They come back with swellin heads, Too fine ter help er lang. They think they know a heft of stuff, And flaunt it in yer face, But 'fore ther thro' ther college course, They've set another pace. But don't cher know, I often see, Ther boys from off ther farm, Who think ther "dad" has got ther "mon," Make oft ther shports—yes marm. And tho I kin not spaik mam Like eddicated men I'm not so dull as ruff mam Tho' kin not hold ther pen. And so they musn't judge mam, 'Cause farmin is our lot, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 217 That we are slow and kin not tell Ef they're er man er not. They ortend fur ter be mam, More than thay really was, But live ter what ther trained fur, And not make sich a fuss. " KIING OP REFORMERS." GEO. W. NICELY, '01. Honorable mention Junior Oratorical. HPHE sixteenth century gave birth to the most remarkable man A the world has ever known. Welcome must have been the change in all Germany, created by the reformation. " From Germany proceeded the power which caused Rome, the once proud mistress of almost the whole world, to tremble, even when she was at the zenith of her potency. And from Germany also proceeded the power which shook the triple crown of the most artful religious and temporal usurper at modern Rome, and brought her to the very brink of inevitable ruin; it was in Ger-many where the morning dawn of a pure worship of the Supreme Being, and of a wise liberty of conscience was destined to arise." In order to realize, to some extent, the magnitude and im-portance of Luther's services to mankind in promoting the cause of freedom and progress, as well as in reformiug the church, it is necessary to recall the condition of the civilized world at the time he appeared and began his career on the stage of human affairs. In the beginning of the 15th century the church was almost universally corrupt, and popes and bishops and people were alike involved in the general demoralization. For a hundred years before the papal chair was occupied by princes, most of whom attained their elevation by intrigue and bribery, and some even by assassination. " It was an age of monasticism." Thousands of men and women in all countries had renounced the world and entered into monasteries and convents to lead lives of superior holiness, but these retreats from the world had changed from their original character and many of them were now places of in-dolence and sensuality. Guiler Von Kaiserburg declares that convent life had become a mere mockery. Infessura, a Roman 218 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY historian, says: "Everyone in Rome knows, alas, that monas-teries have now become dens of corruption.'' Such was the general character of the clergy, from the pope down to the lowest priest; and such also was the condition of religious teachers. Ignorance, superstition and immorality prevailed generally among them. All who questioned the authority of this complex despotism, or denounced its usurpations, were soon silenced or crushed. John Huss and Jerome Prague suffered martydom at Constance for preaching the truths of the gospel a hundred years before Luther; Savoiiavola, at Florence, met a similar fate in 1498. Thousands of others were persecuted, imprisoned, assassinated, tortured to death; hunted down like the wild beasts, or burned to the stake, for worshiping God according to the dictates of their own con-science, for reading the scriptures or for exposing the wickedness and usurpations of the clergy. It was under this state of civil and ecclesiastical despotism, when corruption and profligacy were dominant in the church, and ignorance and superstition prevailed among the people, that Luther appeared and entered upon the great work of reform, for which God had prepared him. It is difficult, if not impossible, at the present day to appreciate the magnitude of that work. All sources of power and influence in church and state; all customs and habits of the people for generations; all existing institutions and the entire structure of society were against him, and had to be assailed, confronted, overthrown and reformed. The word of God was buried in the Latin vulgate version, which only the educated few could read, and copies were so dear and scarce that they were inaccessible to the common people, even if they had been able to read them. " It was one of the achievements of Luther, and a service of ines-timable value to the Germanic nation, that he translated the Bible and gave it to the people in their own tongue, so that all could read it and know that the doctrines he proclaimed were the living truths of the living God, before whom popes and kings and priests and all men were alike accountable." But Luther's work was not confined to reforming the church and furnishing the Bible to the people. It was not only the overthrow of usurped ecclesi-astical power and the restoration of religious toleration and free-dom in Europe. It was all this, but it was also more. There is not an interest or reform affecting human welfare in modern civilization—whether educational, social, industrial or THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 219 political—upon which Luther did not shed the light of his great intellect and soul, enlightened by the word and spirit of God. He taught that it was the duty of the state to educate all the children of the people in order that they might become intelligent and useful citizens; and thus he was the pioneer advocate of uni-versal education four centuries ago. In quelling the outbreak of communism in Germany, known as the "peasant war," he de-clared it to be the duty of all to be subject to " the powers that be," and to acquire property, not by the plunder and robbery of others, but by industry, frugality and honesty. In an address to the princes and nobles of Germany, he taught the reciprocal duties of rulers to their subjects, and of subjects to their rulers, suggest-ing the fundamental principle announced in our Declaration of Independence, that governments, though " ordained of God, de-rive their just powers from the consent of the governed." " I will call this Luther a true, great man," says Carlyle. " Great in intellect, in courage, affection and integrity, one of our most lovable and precious men; great, not as a hewn obelisk, but as an Alpine mountain, so simple, spontaneous, honest, not set-ting up to be great at all; therefore quite another purpose than being great. A.h, yes, unsubduable granite, piercing far and wide into the heavens; yet, in the clefts of its fountains, green, beautiful valleys with flowers ! " "In my judgment," said Senator Wellington of Maryland, " Luther is the greatest man that hath yet lived." "Challenging the license To make gain of sin, Luther nails his protest; Listen to the din. "Striking with his hammer— How the panels shake— How the gateway trembles— How the timid quake! "Blows on blows resounding, Echoed from afar; How the world is shaken, How the churches jar. "We to-day are feeling Heart and conscience thrill, And throughout the ages Men will feel it still. 220 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY "Till the death-stroke's given To all force and fraud; For the striking' hammer Is the word of God." AN OLD CAMERA. P. W. EYSTEB, '03. A BOUT twenty years ago there lived in Dowingtown, about •**■ thirty miles west from Philadelphia, a young man by the name of Warren, whose ambition it was to succeed. He started out in life by teaching school in his native town. So, during the school term he was busy, but during vacation he did all kinds of work about his home. His neighbor was a photographer, and business being dull, he sold his old camera to Mr. Warren at a small price. After young Warren's school had closed, he packed up his camera and left the town, visiting the small villages and towns, to take the pictures of buildings and family groups. Finally he came to a small vil-lage called Pleasant Hill. There was at the time a small show in the place, and as Warren was strolling over the show grounds, he saw an Italian organ-grinder, and a curly-headed boy about six years old on whose face were the features of an American parent-age. Just then the intoxicated assistant-manager of the show came out of a nearby hotel, and tossing to the organ grinder a dime, said, "Make the little rascal dance." The organ grinder, after a few kicks and cuffs, got the boy to dance. The photographer, Mr. Warren, was among the onlookers and took a picture of the Italian and the daucing boy. Warren went to his lodging place, and after developing the picture, put it with others in his traveling case, forgetting all about it. Not meeting with much success at Pleasant Hill, he went to Ardmore, a suburb of Phila-delphia. He took the pictures of the pretty houses and beautiful scenes to be seen in and about Ardmore. One morning as he was stopping before a large sandstone house, preparing to take a pic-ture of it, a handsome lady, on whose face were signs of inward grief, came walking across the lawn, and commenced to talk with the photographer. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 221 This was the house of Mr. Sheffield, a wealthy Philadelphia banker, who lived in Ardmore, and conducted his business in the city. About five years before, his little only son, then one year old, had wandered into the street and was kidnapped. Mr. Shef-field offered a large reward to any one who would make known the whereabouts of his child, but was not successful. Mrs. Shef-field, who admired children, was so grieved at the loss of her only child that she, at times, came near losing her reason. She would every morning, at the time the child was kidnapped, walk across the lawn as if looking for some one; and she Could frequently be heard repeating a low prayer, in which she asked but one favor from God—the return of her sou. This accounted for her pres-ence on the lawn at this time. Mr. Warren invited her to look over the pictures in his travel-ing case while he was fixing the camera. She examined them all till she came to the last, the picture of the organ-grinder and the curly-headed boy; and as she recognized the boy's picture, she exclaimed , "Oh, my boy, my dear little George," and fell over fainting. Just then Mr. Sheffield came; arid Mrs. Sheffield soon recovered sufficient to hand the picture to Mr. Sheffield, He took a long look at it, and judging from the tears that rolled down his cheeks, one could easily tell what his feelings were. Mr. Sheffield asked young Warren where and when he had last seen the organ-grinder and the little boy. Warren gave Mr. Sheffield the desired information, and in less than four hours the police in every town and village in eastern Pennsylvania were looking for an organ-grinder and a little boy, who answered the description of those on the picture. Both were soon found. The organ-grinder, who was the kidnapper, was dealt with according to law and the child was sent to the home of his loving mother. The boy grew up to take part in his father's business, and to-day the Philadelphia firm of Sheffield & Son is well known. The young photographer received from Mr. Sheffield the reward which gave him a good start in business. At present Mr. Warren lives in Baltimore as a retired mer-chant, and he often tells his friends about the old camera stored on the garret of his house. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1900. No. 7. Editor-in- Chief, S. A. VAN ORMEK, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HBTEICK, W. A. KOIILEH. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD. D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten 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 Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORS' DESK. "VVTE hear with regret of the death of Business Manager Hoff- " man's father. Mr. Hoffman was summoned home some weeks ago on account of his father's illness, and accompanied him to a Philadelphia hospital, where an operation to save his life was performed in vain. The MERCURY extends sincere sym-pathy to the bereaved family. Since the close of the foot ball season there is a noticeable in-crease in interest in the work of the literary societies. Special programs were rendered in both societies last evening (Dec. 7)— THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 223 in Philo, "An Evening with Kipling"; in Phrena, "A Mock Trial.'' Both halls were filled. It is to be hoped that enthusiasm in and the healthy rivalry between the two societies will continue increasing as time advances. A college man is expected not only to talk intelligently on the current topics of the day but also to meet his adversary in debate with clean-cut, forcible arguments. Men are needed who can think accurately and think on their feet. That Gettysburg men may be the better able to meet these de-mands, a course in Argumentation has been provided for. It is in charge of Professor Klinger, whose enthusiasm and magnetism will prove a source of inspiration to the members of the class, which, added to a knowledge of the principles of Argumentation and practice in the application of these principles, will amply pay for the time and energy expended. As this is the last issue of THE MERCURY for the year and for the century, we wish to bespeak a continuance of the kindly feeling and hearty support of the journal on the part of the stu-dents, alumni and friends of the college. We wish all a pleas-ant vacation, and hope that all may return with renewed ambition and high ideals. When we shall have been transported by the machinery of the world into a new century, may we behold a "New Era" that con-tains bright visions for the coming years ! *3^ab Do not look for wrong- and evil, You will find them if you do; As you measure to your neighbor, He will measure back to you. Look for gladness, look for gladness, You will meet them all the while; If you bring a smiling visage To the glass, you meet a smile. —Alice Cary. 224 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY ELEMENTS Of INSPIRATION IN TME EARLIEST CREEK POETS. C. M. A. STINE, '01. "VVTHAT do we mean when we speak of a book as inspired ? " What is the signification of the word inspiration? These two questions present themselves at the very outset of the subject. The word inspiration means, literally, a breathing into, that is, it is the breathing of God's spirit into the mind of man. When we speak of a book as inspired we mean that it makes the divine will known to man, or contains some great principle or truth in regard to the life of man. It is in this sense of the word that we use the terms inspired and inspiration. In considering the elements of inspiration in the earliest Greek poets we naturally inquire what these elements are in order that we may know what to look for. Let us consider the subject from three standpoints: first, the revelations of God and of the hereafter which they gave to their readers ; second, any prophecies which they contain ; third, their influence upon Greek morals and civilization. Homer and Hesiod are the earliest Greek poets of whose works we have any definite knowledge. The great epics of Homer and the "Theogouy" and the "Works and Days" of Hesiod may fairly be considered as representative of this earliest known period of Greek poetry. Hesiod, in his "Theogouy," as the name indicates, endeavored to harmonize and systematize the numerous myths in regard to the gods b}' arranging the gods themselves in the order of exact genealogy. Homer portrays the gods as grand in the strength of their passions and in their power, yet they leave the impression of being scarcely more than human beings endowed with great power and with immortality. In the Iliad they take sides against one another. Zeus at first is not favorable to the Greeks, and they realize that without the favor of Zeus it is useless to fight. They therefore prosecute the war by wiles and by spies till Zeus has been propitiated. The power of Zeus is recognized, but there are none of the attributes portrayed as pertaining to him which belong to the true God. In his portrayal of the character of Athena, Homer gives the loftiest conception of the Deity. Athena is mind personified. She is without the lower attributes and the petty jealousies which attach to the. other gods. Athena, "the flashing eyed," is essentially the goddess of the keeu-witted THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 225 Greeks. It is necessary that the Greek be constantly on the lookout not to offend the Deities, and if by some mischance a god or goddess is offended, it is necessary that the offended deity be placated at any cost. The various divinities have their favorites over whom they watch and whose actions they direct. In the first book of the Iliad Athena is represented as restraining Achilles by his yellow hair when he is about to draw his sword against Agamemnon : ***** jiffy g> •AOrjvrj ******* * * * l-avOTfi $k ho/ir/i HX* TTTjXziwya, (II. I. 193-201.) Again, in the Odyssey, she assists Teleuiachus to set out from Ithaca in search of his father, and watches over the wandering Odysseus. But how far is all this from the love of the Christian Jehovah ! There is a power spoken of against which it is useless to strug-gle or to appeal to the gods. The decrees of the fates are unalter-able. Even the gods themselves are subject to them. As com-pared with the Christian idea of God as the supreme power there is a wide difference to be noted here. Homer gives a high con-ception of God, when it is remembered that he was a pagan, but the Zeus of Homer and of Hesiod is far indeed from the God of the Christian. From the foregoing we see, first, that there is no clear revela-tion of the attributes of God; second, that there is no idea of Provi-dence; when a guiding hand is revealed it is still within the limitations of stern fate. As to revelations of the future life, the hereafter as painted by Homer is gloomy and forbidding. Instead of regarding the soul as the real ego, and the body merely as a fetter from which the soul is freed at death, the soul is regarded by him merely as a "shade," the shadow of the physical body. This life is all, and there awaited the Greek after death a joyless exist-ence in a gloomy twilight at best, and perhaps even the tortures of Tartarus. He makes the shade of the great Achilles in Hades to say: "I would be A laborer on earth, and serve for hire Some nian of mean estate, who makes scant cheer, Rather than reig-n o'er all who have gone down To death." Od. XI. 489-90, (Bryant's Trans.) 226 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Such a conception of the hereafter must certainly be regarded as unfavorable to the attainment of the highest and noblest life. As to the revelations of God and of the hereafter as contained in these poems we may say that God never reveals half of himself, or in contradictory lights, nor can an idea of the hereafter be for a moment entertained as the correct one if it is hostile to the attainment of the noblest life and the fulfillment of man's highest ideals. Second, as to the element of prophecy as contained in these poems. Prophecy, strictly defined, is "a prediction under divine influence or direction." We ask then, what predictions are there in the works of these poets and what indications do these predic-tions give of having been made under divine influence or direction ? These poems contain not a single instance of this kind of prophecy. It is true that Homer represents predictions as uttered and later on as fulfilled, but there is no prophecy made by either Hesiod or Homer in regard to the future. The predictions of oiacles are mentioned, and later on we see the fulfillment of these predictions worked out as the action of the poem moves on, but in no case is a prophecy in regard to future ages uttered. We come next to the influence which the works of these poets had on the morals and civilization of the Greek people. It is from this third standpoint that we are most likely to speak of these poems as inspired. The"Theogony" of Hesiod moulded the vast number of myths which we find to have existed in that early period into an orderly, polytheistic theology and was accepted as authority by the Greeks. Any book which brings the idea of God nearer to a people and gives more definite form to that idea, whatever form it may be, will have an influence for good upon the morals of that people. In this way such a book as the "Theogony" must have influenced Greek morals. Hesiod's "Works and Days," however, came nearer home to the hearts of the common people. This poem is a sort of a farm-er's calendar, and in addition to the enumeration of the various lucky days for sowing, etc., it contains a collection of precepts, ethical, economical and political. While the style is homely and unimaginative there is a lofty and solemn feeling throughout, found-ed on the "idea that the gods have ordained justice among men, have made labor the only road to prosperity, and have so ordered THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 227 the year that every work has its appointed season, the sign of which may be discerned." A poem of this character certainly had a beneficent effect upon the minds of the people. It is before the immortal Homer that we must pause in wonder and almost in awe. The influence of the Iliad and the Odyssey upon the Greek mind can hardly be over-estimated. Tbe char-acters which stand forth in his poems, with their matchless symmetry and trueness to life, even to this day, twenty-five hundred years after the writing of the poems, play a part in the formation of the ideals of all who read them, and cannot but enoble the reader. Nausicaa, the loveliest of Homer's female creations, is a character which, in her innocence and her queenly maidenhood, has scarcely ever been equaled. Penelope is the ideal of a con-stant wife, faithful and unswerving in her affections through the most trying experiences. Hector is an ideal of a loyal, unselfish patriot. While no less brave than the fiery Achilles, he is yet more human than that mighty warrior, who has been rendered by the gods practically invulnerable. The appeal of the white-haired Priam for the body of his son will never fail to touch human hearts. With characters such as these ever before them in the lofty poetry of Homer, Greek minds could not fail to be purified and ennobled. Their influence upon the general culture of the age must have been very great, and they are therefore treated as one of the great factors in Greek civilization by many historians. To sum up, we find that while these early poems failed to give the highest conceptions of God, contain nothing of the idea of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, and were entirely lacking in the element of prophecy, they, nevertheless, were of the greatest value in the education of the Greek people and the advancement of civilization. In this third aspect, at least, they do not fall short of that lofty ideal which we expect an inspired work to fulfill. While we are not warranted in conclud-ing that they were inspired, yet so long as either Hesiod or Homer are read, the homely truth of the former and the superb genius of the latter must command our highest admiration. 228 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY WORDS AND THINGS. D. C. BUBNITK, '01. I ANGUAGE is God's gift to man. The lower animals pos- *~* sess memory, will and intellect, and in a few cases even the ability to repeat words; but to man alone has the Creator given the power of expressing his thoughts in words. This dis-criminate use of words is the most prominent mark of difference between man and beast. The value of language is realized when we try to imagine man without it. How limited would be his knowledge and how nar-row his range of thought, for he would be unable to receive from his fellows one single idea with which to compare his own thoughts, and thus arrive at new conclusions. Nor would reason have any value without words to communicate to others its re-sults. What would be the extent of scientific knowledge today had Copernicus, Newton, Franklin and all the host of discoverers been unable to preserve their results in words? "Thoughts without words are nothing." * Words are valueless without a knowledge of the relations they bear to the things for which they are the symbols. But an ex-tensive knowledge of their significance is inestimable, for upon this foundation rests all learning—that alone which can procure true appreciation of life and its blessings. Acquaintance with the real meanings of words is necessary to scholarship. One must be able at a glance to discern that which lies back of a word, the thing for which a word stands. He must have appropriate terms with which he can readily give accurate expression to his own thoughts. "A word fitly spoken," says Solomon, "is like apples of gold in pictures of silver." T_et us attempt to substitute one word for another in a passage of Milton, and we destroy the effect of the whole. It was Webster's accurate selection of words that placed him in history. How do we acquire this ability to join the right word with the right thing ? This faculty, like most other endowments, develops with age. The infant hears a word and learns by mere observa-tion what thing it represents. He wishes to denote an object or express a thought, and his elders supply him with the necessary words. And this process of obtaining the meanings of words may be pursued in this same manner all through life. No con- *Max Muller. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 229 scious effort in this direction need be made in order to prosper, but to pass into the sphere of education one must apply himself to the work of definition; he must faithfully consult his dic-tionary. The student's vocabulary is also increased, as in the case of the infant, by being supplied with the ideas before he is given the corresponding terms. That is, a definition may precede the word it explains. This is the modern inductive method of teaching, especially in the natural sciences. By it we are lead first to form a conception and then given the appropriate word. By repeated use every word whose meaning is understood be-comes a complete possession. But not only mere definition and repetition suffice to procure for us in all cases true appreciation of the meanings of words. The things for which some words stand must be experienced before their real significance lies open before us. Who knows what the word "sorrow" really means but him who has had trouble ? The mild tempered person can-not realize fully what lies back of the word "anger." The true meaning of "ocean" is inconceivable to him who has never be-held its beauty. Words are living beings to one who has expe-rienced the things they represent. One of the greatest obstacles to retard our progress is the lack of this absolute requirement for advancement—total command of the words in common use. We wonder why this is. Of course some of us lack original capacity to understand words, and some of us have not had sufficient opportunities to obtain a good vocabulary. But most of us have this capacity and have had the best of chances, and yet we are deficient. The failure to understand and use words in their true import can generally be traced to the habitual disinclination to do that which requires .special effort; in short, we have been lazy. It is surprising how few of us are willing to attribute some of our fail-ings to that cause. Many of our present shortcomings are owing to wilful neglect in the past. In the case in hand we have failed to perform the fundamental process. We have procrastinated, deferring the definition of unfamiliar words till "the next time." We have done this again and again, and now when we attempt higher pursuits, we find our error. An exceedingly large proportion of persons are in this condi-tion. And it is to be deplored that a very large part of those in 230 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY this plight do not seem at all anxious to remedy their condition. How shiftless and inaccurate is their use of words. How feeble their attempts to argue, or even to hold intelligent conversation. The artisan must have materials with which to work. He who would make his thoughts known must have suitable words. But these persons are satisfied with their poor attempts, both to ex-press their thoughts and to understand the thoughts of others. "The world," says Paschal, "is satisfied with words; few care to dive beneath the surface." How true this is. We see it everywhere. Where it is possible the student uses his memory. Words, empty words, are all he tries to obtain; and, sad to say, he gets what he is after. He fails to see beyond the narrow present into the broad future. He strives for present reputation and marks, and he gets them; and that is all. He soon loses words, and he has never received their corresponding ideas, and all that is left is a record "on the books," which in these days of the survival of the fittest, counts for naught. But then there is that large class of persons who do thoroughly realize the necessity of greater command of language, who do want to make up for past neglect. How can we accomplish this ? "There is no royal road to learning." The rudiments of any study must be mastered before there can be advancement. We must now do what we have before neglected. We must use our dictionaries and weigh the significance of each word before we attempt to use it. To attain the highest use of language we must not pass by a single word without thoroughly understanding the thing it stands for. Extreme care must be exercised in the selec-tion of words with which to express our thoughts. Constant watchfulness is the price of success. This work of improvement is an arduous task, the performance of which persistence alone can accomplish, but the end fully repays the effort. Who that has reached this goal would trade his accomplish-ment for all that man could offer? With this possession one dwells upon a higher plane than that of his less intelligent fellow. By it he is brought a step nearer to the Being with whose help he obtains it. No other acquirement can produce such pleasure as this knowledge of the relations of words to things. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 231 THE REFINING FIRE IN NATURE. J. R. STONER, '01. A T that period of the year when the process of oxidation is **• going on more rapidly than at any other, preparing nature for a state in which she may resume anew the forms of activity and life,—look out over the landscape ! The autumnal equinox has ushered in another season to succeed the vanished summer, and the robe of verdure is changed into the beautiful golden garb of autumn. The forest and the grove reflect a hue of amber and gold as they lie in the distance, bathed in the rich sunlight against the blue background of the sky. It is but the flame of this burning process in nature now fanned into a great conflagration consum-ing all that has flourished in the past year that is no longer of value in the economy of nature, except it be decomposed into its elements and taken up in the formation of other substances. But all is not consumed. The golden grain and the fruit of the tree; that which at one time appeared but as an obstructed growth of leaves, now contains within its narrow shell the capability of un-folding in another life. By its persistence in complying with the law that turns all hindrances to good effects, while it could not assume the beauty and prominence of a leaf in the bright robe of the herb or the tree, but submitting to its allotted destiny, it grad-ually developed into the permanent kernel, able to survive in the test under which the leaf must perish. We see all around us the work of nature purging the earth of all that is useless at the end of a period of creative activity or growth, preparing for another period of vigor and work. By means of this oxidation or slow burning "all effete substances that have served their purpose in the old form are burnt up" and only that which has the promise of life and usefulness passes un-harmed through the ordeal. Without this conflagration by which the earth is swept in autumn, there could be no.new, fresh growth in nature. Through the amber flames of autumn comes the pure, fresh verdure of spring. Everywhere is this refining fire purg-ing the universe of all that is worthless, perpetually tending to bring it into a purer state. Even the rivulet, whose crystal waters have been made foul by the natural contamination of the soil over which it has flown, is made purer by being thrown into a state of agitation as it ripples down over the obstructions in its way. The grand column that dashes precipitately over the awful 232 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY cataract and is separated into multitudinous particles of spray reaches the plane below in a purer state ; because the molecules have been bathed in the refining element of oxygen pervading the atmosphere. Thus we see that hindrances or adversity in nature are the means through which all great and phenomenal feats are brought about. And may not this principle be traced into the ethical life of man ? Surely all great heroes of the past, whose deeds are worthy of immortality, and whose careers merit the height of fame they have attained, have been disciplined by the stern school of adversity. They were men who met the hindrances with a de-termined will that would not flinch, when faced by difficulties, or cower in the presence of misfortune, their destinies were not moulded by circumstances ; but circumstances were controlled by their high destiny, the goal of their illustrious lives. And as a consequence the hindrances they met and surmounted prepared them to survive in the refining fire of trial, and instilled into their very sinews pure and noble principles of life. Thus estab-lished in character, they came from the ordeal all the more beauti-ful for having been submitted to the test. Arduous accomplishments that require an extraordinary amount of perseverence, patience, tact, and earnest toil should not be looked upon disparagingly. They are but the means, the testing fire, as it were, by which those who are fit to rise high in the walks of life, to take charge of responsible positions and to wield the sceptre of influence over the world in a manner to di-rect it in the channels of righteousness, are separated from those who are frivolous, trifling, insignificant idlers. And like the evergreen,—fitting emblem of the eternal that it is,—as it stands robed in its brilliant garb, unscathed by the withering effect of the autumn frost and the snows of winter, an object of life stand-ing out in sharp contrast with the seemingly lifeless world around it; so shall those, who have stood the test, be clothed in immor-tality though all things else may perish. CQgj 111 fares the land to hastening' ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay. —Goldsmith. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 233 A PINANCIER. FRANK 8. FITE, '01. \ HAD the rare privilege, some forty years ago, to make the ac- * quaintance and to be favored with the confidence of a finan-cier who had risen to eminence from the lowest social grade. As a beggar boy, his exceptional talent for begging had roused the enthusiasm of a set of elderly maidens, who were attracted by his peculiar cry of helplessness and his boast of honesty. They put him to school. He learned there the fundamental principles of arithmetic, and little else; but his aptitude for trade was devel-oped in a marvelous degree. All the spending money of the scholars was invariably found at the end of a vacation in Chaucey Alcott's pockets. Yet, no boy could say that he had been cheated. All the fellows felt that their bits of silver coin had mysteriously disappeared in their various business relations with Alcott; but still they reluctantly confessed that everything had been "fair and square." He was said to be "on the dead level," yet plucked them, it would seem, pitilessly; but he stood by his own contracts, as he compelled them to stand by theirs. No act of positive dishonesty was ever proved against this plausible, cautious and relentless trader. The boys declared that he was shrewd, cunning and hard, yet he was "so obliging!" They disliked him, and at the same time accepted his services. Could they have caught him in any act of rascality his life would have been made a misery, but he was so discreet in his early preparation for his future career that, at the age of ten, he already gave promise of the great merchant and banker he eventually became. On leaving school, young Alcott found that his possessions amounted to thirty dollars. Instead of rushing at once to the elderly maidens who had helped him he went to the city and offered himself as clerk in a wholesale fish house. The senior partner was attracted by his evident talent and felt his youth renewed in looking at the youngster; he gave him a position in his counting room at once with a salary of fifty dollars a year. The keen youth, seeing at a glance that his employers were pious misers, instantly became, to all appearances, a pious miser himself. But in the course of five or six years he astonished the firm by show-ing that he knew more about the wholesale fish business than they did, and had made some money by quiet speculation of his 234 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY own. They oSered to double, treble, quadruple his salary, but nothing would satisfy Alcott but a partnership in their question-ablegaius. This they refused and Alcott promptly set up for himself on a small capital of money but a large capital of knowledge and intelligence, and soon cornered his former employers in a few heavy dealings and put them into bankruptcy in twenty-four months after he had left them, with the skillful use of their own methods. In the course of a few years he ventured cautiously but surely into other departments of commerce. He became a general merchant and at last assumed the dignity of ship owner and shipped his o-oods in his own vessels. He had two grand qualifications for business: his mind was quick and his heart was hard. In all financial panics he collected what was his due relentlessly, regard-less of the suffering it might bring upon nobler people than him-self; and paid all his own notes punctually as they fell due. To "fail'' was to him the worst of crimes. Almost everybody detested him, yet all knew that they could rely both on his word and his bond. Such a merchant, perhaps, should be judged by his own prin-ciples ; he had no sympathy with the great body of merchants of the country and laughed at all such sentimentality. "Get the better of 'em," was his motto. About this time he was a little wearied with commerce and bonds and stocks held for him the charm which merchandise had lost. He had obtained about two million dollars and amazed the moneyed world by a rush into Wall street, where he became a gigantic stock-jobber and banker. Here, as in school, the same shrewd, cunning characteristics were manifest, and slowly at first, but surely, his fortune increased and he obtained big commissions on the doubtful and worthless securities he sold; but just as his school-mates, those wbo relied on him could not assert that he had done anything to forfeit his reputation for honesty. It was at this point that I happened to have the honor of being one of his clerks, and in a short time his confidential one. I at once noticed his profanity. Everybody and everything interfering with his business designs brought forth a volley of oaths. There is probably no greater shock to the mind of an honest, well-intentioned country lad who is sent to confront the tempta- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 235 tions of a city, with a mother's prayers hovering over him, than when he finds his employer is a rascal disguised as an honest man. Shall he also become a rascal ? Shall he stoop to scoundrelisms which his inmost soul abhors ! His behavior under such circum-stances is a test of his character ; his father, mother and sister, if he is fortunate enough to have a sister, combine all their moral energies to help him. There is no reason why the boy should have more privileges thau the girl, but the fact that he has is too evident to admit of a doubt. The denial of sisters to advance their brothers is one of the tragedies of human life. The re-verse SHOULD be the case, but unfortunately is not. But to return to my theme. As soon as I found out Mr. Al-cott, I began to look upon him with a certain horror. He had the greatest confidence in my honesty and even allowed me to sign his name to checks, but when I suggested that my services were worth more than I received, and that fifteen hundred would but partly recompense my unceasing work in his journal and ledger, he used his favorite formula and cursed me and my ser-vices roundly. He really thought that my services were due his pre-eminent position, though he was aware that I might ruin him in a single day had I chosen to "skip" at the close of business hours with his stocks and bonds. It is curious that I never had the slightest temptation to use the vast powers with which Mr. Alcott endowed me, for I might easily have become a millionaire in some European country had I chosen, like my employer, to become a rogue. I witnessed, as do clerks every day, the process of plundering, without any desire to plunder the plunderer. His wife, a meek woman, whom he swiftly scared into the grave, left him a daughter. She appeared to me a foolish, gig-gling creature, with large black eyes, a pug nose, and a complex-ion which was red to the point of ignition. A younger clerk in the office, much to our amusement, with a salary of five hundred dollars a year, declared that he was madly in love with her and convinced her of his sincerity ; as it was ridiculous to suppose that the father would consent to such a match, the clerk and heiress eloped and were married. When Alcott heard of it, he blasphemed with a savage fluency that was Wonderful even in him. His son-in-law was a bright fellow, however, with some rich connections, and with their backing, soon appeared in Wall Street. He made money, backed as he was, and Mr. Alcott went deliberately to work to ruin him, but at first he didn't succeed, as the son-in-law, in an early "corner in Erie," took eight hundred thousand out of his father-in-law's pocket: but this only stimu-lated Mr. Alcott and he ventured his millions without stint in an attempt to "corner" his son-in-law. [Continued.] 236 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY BOOK REVIEW. Quicksand, by Hervey White :—Small, Maynard, and Co., $1.50. QUICKSAND is the life history of a family with many more downs than ups. It is divided into three parts, in each of which a particular member of the family is the central figure, although all the members of the family enter into each divi-sion. The birth, boyhood, education, marriage, struggle for literary fame, and tragic death of Hubert form a conspicuous current in the narration. The varying dispositions of the members of the family, the appearance of the Indian, Maude, and the faithful hired man give an abundance of variety. The characters are depicted in striking detail, and the descriptions of the three homes (which the cover-ing of shame made necessary) are complete. The effect of a number of follies (crimes in some instances) are so clearly brought out as to emphasize the necessity of straight forward living. AMONG OUR CONTEMPORARIES, TT has not been the policy of THE MERCURY to devote much *■ space to an exchange article, but we feel it our duty to say something at intervals of those journals of other institutions, the reading of which gives us much pleasure and is profitable. The fact that an exchange article was crowded out of the November number explains why, in a few instances, reference is made to October numbers. The University of Virginia Magazi?ie is one of the most com-plete literary journals on our table, and the November number is an especially good one. It contains an article on "Keats—A Conscious Reformer of English Poetry," that is worthy of study. "The Quiet Indian's Ghost" in the November Touchstone is a well written story. The editor makes a strong appeal to the "men of Lafayette" in behalf of the literary journal of the insti-tution . The recent changes in the form and general get-up of the Pharetra make it the neatest and most attractive of our exchanges. The material is of a high grade, and the pen-sketches add ma-terially to its attractiveness. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 237 "The Living Relic of Barbarism" in the October Ursinus Col-lege Bulletin is decidedly above the average oration in beauty and in force. An increased number of pages of literary material should accompany the change of The Bulletin from a biweekly to a monthly. The November Midland contains in its literary department a poem by Longfellow and one from the Denver News, an article by an alumnus and one by a student. Will this encourage liter-ary work among the students at Midland f The Dickinson Literary Monthly has materially raised its standard and, in general, does not suffer in comparison with the best; but the November number contains a partisan article that is unworthy a place in a college journal. Those interested in the educational condition of Puerto Rico will find an interesting article by Dr. M. G. Brumbaugh in the Juniata Echo for October. The Echo is to be congratulated on being able to publish these articles. We regret that the Novem-ber number did not contain one. "The Spanish Arnaida," an outline with explanations, by Stanley Ecker in The Western University Couranl reflects credit upon the author and the journal. It is the result of effort and thought. The poetry of The Lesbian Herald is an important feature of the publication. A well written article on "The Sun's Eclipse," accompanied by a photograph of the total eclipse at Centreville, Va., May 28, 1900, appears in the last issue. ««*£> "Over and over again, No matter which way I turn, I always find in the book of life Some lesson that I must learn ; I must take my turn at the mill, I must grind out the golden grain, I must work at my task with a resolute will, Over and over again." PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. F?. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming- Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for 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. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing- Goods, go to I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON Superintendent. Hummelstomn 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. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAWER 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. Xeiss 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. 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 Spiral, Black or Mottled |2 SO Twist, " 2 SO Hexagxm, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them to you. Agood local agent wanted in every school ^Mirmm^fr^wmmwwMmmmmmmwmm^ Printingand Binding We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY 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 g-ive them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. K SPRINGS, PA. 73iUMtimU4UMtMlJUiUJUiUiU4UJUJUJUiUM R H. S. BENNEP, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queenswcire, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Ggars. 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 pointsof interest.including the tb ree days" fight, $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. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Beds, Springs, Mattresses, Etc. Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. fyotd (Gettysburg 3arber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON W.F.CODORI, S£Sf)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. (itrrT*l5£UR(i, PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. lO BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. f\. MltW Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. GETTYSBURG, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adams County.
PEBRUARY, 1901 ooTheoo ettysbiir Mercury CONTENTS The Flight of the Birds 239 The Taking of a United States Census 240 Pan-American Sports 243 A College Romance 244 The Treatment of the Skeptic 246 A Glimpse of Byron 248 Giving 254 Exchanges 255 Editor's Desk 258 The Past Our Present Pilot 259 A Financier (Continued) 263 A Twilight Reverie 266 "Taps" 266 An Era of Progress 268 G'BURG C. LIB. pUPLICATE FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to Tk Jo Eo Wile ftkilm Staff 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. EDGAR S. MARTIN, ^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES Chambersburs St., Gettysburg Leadership IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S FURNISHING 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. : : : : STINE McPherson Block. No. II BALTIMORE STREET THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter% VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG. PA., FEBRUARY, 1901. No. 8. THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS. MARGARET (HIMES) SEEBACH. Not one by one on lonely wing, They seek afar a sunny clime, When winds a chill from ice-fields bring The sombre Autumn-time; But when the cold rain comes to beat On tattered nest and drooping feather, They rise in rushing flocks, to greet The South-land all together. Not one by one, as single souls, We seek thy sunshine, Land of Light, When o'er our love-lit sky uprolls The first black shade of flight. When Pain comes whispering, " Rise and go I I bring the heart's bleak winter weather," Our pilgrim souls clasp hands, and so We journey home together I 240 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE TAKING OF A UNITED STATES CENSUS. C. W. WEISER, '01. HPHE book-agent or peddler may meet with a door slammed in * his face, a couple of cross dogs let loose, or an angry and citrous tongue set wagging ; he may even meet with the toe of a boot, or some missile hurled violently at him—poor man ! But the enumerator who is discreet and courteous has none of these weapons of local warfare to fear. His way is paved by the an-nouncement in the local papers of his coming. All the cross dogs seem to be away on a visit, or else tied. The people greet you with, " I knew you'd be along ; I saw it in the paper.'' He, unlike the wretched book-agent, starts out knowing that he is going to succeed. He is not asking the people, in an indirect way, for dollars ; all he wants is their census. "Well, you hain't a going to get any of my senses," replied one woman. The census enumerator learns lessons and acquires experience which could be obtained in no other way. He comes in contact with all sorts and condition^ of men. Some of his experiences with these people are indelibly fixed in his memory. Many of them, indeed, are pleasant, and some of them ridiculously humor-ous ; while some of the scenes and tales of woe which incidentally come to his knowledge are pitiable in the extreme. It is our purpose to relate some of these experiences in the active service. In town the work was pleasant, and progressed rapidly, until I came to the manufacturing establishments, where it went slow. It was necessary to make a complete inventory of the books and property, which took much time. The proprietors, however, acted in a very courteous manner. In the country the work was more troublesome, owing to the distance between the different farms, and the rough roads I had to travel over. It was not an unusual occurrence to be seen pushing a wheel up a hilly road, which was almost too rough even for a buggy. The farmers were usually to be found in a back field at their corn. This meant a long tramp, and some-times several hours spent standing out under a scorching hot sun filling out the Agricultural report, for no one kept a book ac-count. But this was amply atoned for by a cordial invitation to a farmer's dinner. The required statistics were freely given, except in the case THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 2A\ of a few illiterate people, who thought that this was only a scheme for increasing taxation. I met one man only who was unreason-able. Him, no amount of explanation would satisfy, until fright-ened into answering by the presentation of my census badge. All in all, the farmers proved themselves to be a well read, intel-ligent, courteous and hospitable people. It was, however, among the poor classes in or along themoun-tain side where one met with the most varied experiences. We came in contact with poverty and illiteracy of the most flagrant kind. The lack of suitable food and clothing was most evident. Some of the narratives were heartrending. I rapped at the closed door of a little shack one June morning, and soon saw the hag-gard and disheveled head of a distracted woman peer through a sidewindow. Soon the bolts were drawn and the door was opened. After I had completed the Population Schedule, and asked for the cause of the death of her child, the poor mother answered in tones of despair that it had frozen to death in bed one cold mid-winter night. Perched in an agony of physical and mental torment, in a lit-tle black hovel, through whose single window peered the dim light, I found a murderess—an ex-penitentiary convict. The look of despair, and fear, and torment, mirgled with every sign of the wildest passion, were sufficient to make one shudder. After a long and lonesome journey on horseback, through the wildest and most picturesque mountains in the state, I arrived one mid-day on the top of a lofty mountain. Far below lay a deep, narrow vale, wooded with the verdant forest. On the op-posite side loomed up lofty crags and peaks, proud sentinels of a scene of native grandeur which few have ever beheld, and which brought tears of rapture to the eye. In all this grand and lonely fastness there were but four families, for two of which I had to make this long trip. They had never been to school. Had no-where to go to church. Creeping in among the bushes I came across some rude hovels, in which dwelt gnome-like creatures, who spoke a dialect scarcely to be understood. The chief object which showed of any com-munication with the outside world, which I saw in one hovel, was a tin cup filled with tobacco standing in the centre of a rough table. Of this both men and women smoked and chewed. I suppose it was their only consolation. When asked the date of 242 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY their birth, the one replied that she was born in "the corn husk-ing time," another in the " huckleberry season." When asked their age, they simply couldn't tell; they hadn't the faintest idea. At another house I rapped at the door. A woman answered, and after I had stated my business she simply turned her back and walked away. I followed her into the house, opened my portfolio, and began work. When I asked the date of her birth she studied awhile and finally drawled out, "Why—m—1749." (She was about thirty years of age.) Another woman said she was born in 1896. One old man replied, " My mommy hut mir net gesat" (His mother hadn't told him). No doubt you will ask whether the condition of these people of the mountains cannot be helped. It cannot, at least in this generation. It has been tried. Some of the children have been brought out to the town schools, and after years of hard toil and unceasing, patient effort 011 the part of the teacher, these chil-dren have gone back as ignorant as when they came. They could not spell d-o-g or c-a-t. When given warm clothing they could not be induced to wear much of it. Habits of thought and neat-ness could not be taught to them. When they spoke to each other it was in such guttural, and so rapid, that no one else could understand. And is it any wonder that these people have become so de-praved and mentally estranged ? Isolated from the world, amidst wild and lone surroundings, they have always lived in the same spot where their ancestors lived for two hundred years back. Under such conditions the natural condition would be for these people to drift back towards a wild and animal state. Thus, coming in contact with the high and the low, the rich and the poor, it will readily be seen what a wide range for the study of humanity the enumerator has. Much of the social and moral condition of our country cannot be conveyed by the great round numbers of a census report. It remains buried in the heart of the enumerator. 'Many a dream has vanished away, Many an ideal turned to clay ; Many a friendship proved untrue— Constant and lasting, Oh, how few !" THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 243 PAN-AMERICAN SPORTS. '"PHE President of the Pan-American Exposition recently appoint- *■ ed a Committee on Sports, as follows: Jesse C. Dann, Chairman, Dr. Chas. Cary, J. McC. Mitchell, John B. Olmsted, Chas. M. Ranson, Seward A. Simons, Wm. Burnet Wright, Jr. Soon after its appointment the committee invited the follow-ing named gentlemen to act as members of an Advisory Committee on Amateur Sports: Hon. Theodore Roosevelt, Walter Camp, C. C. Cuyler, C. S. Hyman (Canada), C. H. Sherrill, A. A. Stagg, Benjamin Ide Wheeler, Casper Whitney. The appointment of this Advisory Committee emphasizes the desire of the Committee to have all amateur competitions occupy the highest possible plane. The Stadium, with a seating capacity of 12,000, is beautiful in design and promises to be one of the most successful architect-ural creations of the Exposition. It will surround a quarter-mile track with ground area ample for the requirements of all the events proposed. As to the nature of the athletic events planned, it may be said that amateur sports of all kinds will be encouraged as representing the most desirable of athletic competitions, and the members of the Committee on Sports, being college graduates, particularly wish to make a special feature of college sports. In the manage-ment of inter-collegiate events, it is the desire of the Committee that the various college associations be invited to undertake as far as possible the arrangement of the necessary details connected therewith. Although amateur sports will comprise a large part of the program, it is proposed to have such a number of professional events as will allow visitors an opportunity to witness the athletic skill of the best professionals. The character of prizes that will be offered has not yet been definitely determined upon, but the assurance may be given that prizes will be awarded of value as lasting souvenirs of athletic success at the Exposition. It is proposed to arrange a number of college baseball and foot-ball games, and it is especially desired by the Committee that the Eastern Inter-Collegiate (I. A. A. A.) Track Meeting be held in Buffalo next year. An ideal program might be to hold in the Stadium the East-ern Inter-Collegiate Meeting, then the Western Inter-Collegiate 244 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Meeting; these to be followed by a Pan-American Meeting open to competitors in the two previous meetings and to representatives of other Inter-Collegiate Associations. Other Inter Collegiate events have been considered, such as La Crosse, Cross Country Running with start and finish in the Stadium, etc., etc. The Committee on Sports hope that the Exposition may have a full college representation. It is proposed to hold many other sports in the Stadium, the A. A. U. Championship, Lawn Tennis, La Crosse, Cycling, Association Football, Water Sports, Trap and Target Shooting, etc., etc. All communications should be sent to Jesse C. Dann, Chair-man; 433 Ellicott Square, Buffalo, N. Y. c*p A COLLEGE ROMANCE. '99. Thro' a painted window Soft the sunlight falls, With a rainbow beauty Lighting- up the halls— With a touch of glory, Gilding dim, old walls. Stately arching pillars Rise above the stair, On the carven columns Stone-cut faces rare; Here a laughing satyr, Tearful naiad there. Graven deep, long ages Each has filled its space, Keeping watch in silence O'er the classic place. Time has laid no finger On each cold, still face. Motionless in sunshine, And in shadow so, Heeding not unnumbered Feet that come and go. Oh, what fiue romances Must these statues know! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 245 Could each sculptured image Open lips of stone, Tell to eager listening Secrets it hath known, Bits of lore and legend, Of the days long gone! Once a dark-eyed maiden Lingered near the stair, And a fair-haired Junior Stood beside her there, With one strong arm resting Strangely near her hair. Eyes of brown are meeting Eyes of tender blue, Hearts are closer beating— Lips are Hearing, too, How it came to happen Neither ever knew. Just a hurried pressure, One keen moment's bliss, But the face above them Saw the stolen kiss. When had graven image Looked on sight like this? Years have closed the lashes Over eyes of brown; One page in life's story Folds forever down. Thro' the classic hallway Others trail the gown. Tho' the silent statue May recall full well That romantic moment, Yet a magic spell Ouardeth still the secret— It can never tell! c*P Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good ; Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. —TENNYSON. 246 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE TREATMENT OF THE SKEPTIC. J. B. BAKER, '01. TVTHAT the world is to-day, she owes to the skeptic. Before " he walked among men, the race was inert and drowsy and dull. No systems of thought were conceived, no rational explanations sought. It does appear sometimes, however, in going back to mythic lands and mythopceic days, that they must have been, indeed, an active state. The grotesqueness of their various colored myths is sometimes taken as a proof of mental keenness. The multiplicity of their beings, and the variety of their functions, connected as they are with almost every conceivable phenomenon of nature, is said to augur a deep measure of mental acumen on the part of the authors, as well as the people who believed in them and honored them. But they are not the product of a mature analysis ; only the fancies of a dreamy childhood. Their golden fables were nothing more than the gyrations of splendid color to the yawning child who is just rubbing the scales of sleep away from his eyes. They are the capricious imaginings of an awakening mind. In this setni-somiioleut condition the sons of men were long enwrapped, and cared little to abandon it. When Thales, Anaximines, Diogenes and others appeared with their various creeds and myth-dispelling dogmas, they dis-turbed the lethargy of their fellows, and incurred the hostility of many. Their names became the targets of false accusation, and their teachings were branded as dangerous. But the world of philosophy is not unique in its antagonism to the independent thinker. The realm of science is its kin. There was a time when scientific men believed the world to be fiat. Columbus said it was round, and instantly the tongues of ridicule were loosened on him. Yet upon his hypothesis rest the important calculations of to-day. There was a time when the sage men of the world held that "lightning was an almost infinitely fine combustible matter, that floats in the air and takes fire by sudden and mighty fermenta-tion; also, that it was a physical expression of God's wrath against the insects He had created." Benjamin Franklin was too practical a man for such idle spec-ulation, and showed them their folly by the flying of his kite. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 247 No sooner had he seized the bolts of Zeus, however, and shat-tered their theory to the good of mankind, than he was charged with an affront to the Almighty himself. Protecting houses against lightning was said to interfere with the prerogatives of Deity, and when, three years after the experi-ment, New England was shaken by an earthquake, a Boston divine contended, in a sermon preached on the subject, that light-ning rods, by gathering the electricity from the clouds and ac-cumulating it in the earth, were the causes of the upheaval. There was a time, even later than that, when the stage-coach was the fastest mode of transportation, when steam locomotion was unknown and little thought of. George Stephenson went to work to construct an engine, and this is what the Quarterly Re-view had to say: "What can be more palpably absurd and ridicu-lous than the prospect held out for locomotives traveling twice as fast as stage-coaches. We would as soon expect the people of Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off in one of Congreve's cannons as to trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine going at such a rate." Another authority of equal prominence said that " the poisoned air of the locomotives would kill the birds." Waile still another insisted that " there would be no further use for horses." Such examples might be added to an almost infinite number, but would only strengthen a truth already quite patent. There is yet another sphere of activity in which the skeptic, or man of thinking, figures prominently, and that is the world of religious thought. Nowhere does dissension touch such a vital point in man's destiny, and nowhere has it been punished with greater severity. The men of courage, who gave us the heritage of a pure gos-pel, were men who felt the hand of inquisitional torture. They were men whose flesh and bones were blistered and charred by the fagots of fire; men who were driven about like the master they followed, with nowhere to lay their heads. We honor them, and mention their names with oracular reverence. But we are judging them all from the vantage ground of tested history. What shall be our attitude toward the skeptic of to-day ? Con-servatism might advise us to shun him as we would shun a ser-pent. Radicalism might tell us to be fearless and read his works. We shall not presume to answer the question, but consider it wise 243 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY to resort to that sage old philosopher, who said, "Know thyself," and to a still higher authority, which says, "Know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." Above all things, whether we believe him or not, whether he is right or wrong, it is due to us to respect him for his independent thought and candor. "Honor the honest man. Earth rears but few. Only at God's white forge are such souls wrought. Rare honest man. His mind perchance sees truth In different forms from thine, yet honor him. Perchance his vision thy dim sight transcends And what to thee appears sublime and sure As the eternal hills, to him is but A bubble in the air. Perchance when thou Hast found the crystal spring whereof he drinks Thou, too, wilt quaff, and own the light divine." A GLIMPSE OP BYRON. HTHE meteoric career of this celebrated, but ill-starred poet has * been a subject of study for all lovers of literature and its makers. Meteoric, both because of its brilliancy and short dura-tion. Byron's popularity, in his day, was greater than that of any of his contemporaries, but it was much briefer and more in-constant, and to-day the general verdict pronounced by the read-ing public and literary reviewers, is against him. To-day men praise the highland ruggedness and simplicity of Scott's poetry; its bold irregularity and indifference to minor imperfections, claiming all to be the highest attributes of genius; they speak with unchilled ardor of Wordsworth: his great and sympathetic heart; his tender but manly verse, always sincere, often profound and ever, the genuine utterances of a true priest of the spirit; Southey and Coleridge are both loved and lauded for their large-ness of vision and poetic truth; but Byron who was hailed as he rose over the horizon in the artlessness and inexperience of his youth, as a star of the first magnitude, as the brightest orb in the firmament, is now almost universally despised and deserted; an outlaw under the ban of moral reproach and literary censure, he stands friendless in the gloom of his solitary exile. That Byron was endowed with rare natural gifts, that his poetry bears the evi-dence of exceptional powers are denied by no impartial reviewers; THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 249 that his poems lack energy, emotional colouring, daring in in-vention and many of the less definable qualities of poetry cannot be rationally insisted upon; bat that his poetry is unfit for the hands and hearts of innocent and impressionable youth and that it revolts the moral sensibilities of the more mature in years and experience, as well as offends the literary taste of the cultured, are matters of fact, known to all students of English literature. This apparent paradoxical fact must be accounted for by the unfortunate accompaniments that attended and marred his genius. His powers were of the first order, but they were accompanied by a pessimistic and envenomed spirit, a haughty egotism—though this he endeavored to conceal,—and at last, what reversed his early successes, a growing affectation of contempt for public opinion or private regard. There was a mixture of literary and moral virtues with literary and moral vices in which the propor-tion of vice became predominant, and eventually prostituted his genius to the service of shame and folly in their most attractive and insidious forms. Censorship should not be unjust, not even unsympathetic towards this most to be pitied of poets. His works to be properly appreciated, and his unwholesome sentiment and thought to be viewed in a fair light, must be traced back to his sad life as their source of inspiration, and there though the works may justly be reprobated as unchaste and injurious,we cannot help, at least but partially exonorate their author, when we view the circumstances that gave them birth and determined their character. Born into the world with a tender but impetuous and some-what petulant nature, he was alternately visited with passionate caress and indiscriminate and vindictive disfavor by his mother, —caressed into self-will and pride, he was upbraided and scolded into ill-temper and defiance; his sensitive young nature was embittered; his strong propensity to love and crave it in return was here first disappointed and thwarted; here his spirit began to be discolored with that tinge of hatred and haughty contempt for human kind that disfigured his poetry and ruined his life. Leaving home with scarce a regret save that at the expiration of the school term he would have to return, he hoped to enter a more wholesome social atmosphere, to mingle among more active and congenial spirits, and there find that sympathy, trust and esteem for which his ardent young nature panted. His friendships, 250 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY as may be imagined, were few but fast, nearly always broken, if broken at all, through his own petulance upon the most trivial occasions, but generally soon renewed with ties of stronger affec-tion and mutual respect. Precocious emotional susceptibility exposed him at a very early age to the vexatious experience of unreasoning loves. The mistresses of hisyouthful passions uniformly repelled his advances, little knowing that they were crushing a heart that would bleed, not for a day, or a week, or a month, but for a lifetime; that they were rejecting a passion, which, exalted by a sanctified home-life, would have provided and enriched every endearment of wedded felicity; but spurned with indifference in its first ventures, would turn to the madness of despair. The haughty pride of his untamed spirit was insulted at every turn; his keen sensibility to neglect or offense kept his resent-ment, against somebody or other, at white heat the greater por-tion of his life, making him new enemies, and decimating fre-quently the ranks of his friends—those who generally endured his eccentricities, and enjoyed his confidence and esteem. His first effort in poetry was a juvenile performance, with meagre promise of his later fame in it, written at school and pub-lished when he left the University under the title, " Hours of Idleness." It was assailed at once by Francis Jeffreys, the most celebrated critic of his day, in the Edinburgh Review. The poem, prefaced with a disavowal of all poetical aspira-tions and a cleverly written appeal to the clemency of the critics was condemned without reserve, its faults exposed with relent-less accuracy, and, in general, treated with so much ridicule and contempt that Byron was aroused, the latent powers of sarcasm and irony that lay sleeping within him were awakened, and he seized the pen and wrote with the energy and inspiration of a demon, "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," venting indis-criminate calumnies upon all writers and critics of his day. This poem, though written in the rashness of youth, and in some re-spects inviting severe censure as " misplaced anger and indis-criminate acrimony," for the first time announced his real power. His skill in versification, the vigor of his thought, the terrible energy of his feelings, and brilliancy of sarcastic wit, proclaimed at once to England that no common man had risen, and prophe-cies were many and sanguine of his future fame. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 251 After having been rebuked by every journal, by critic and even friends for his unjust assault upon men of genius and merit, some of established reputation and venerated name, he became dissatisfied at home, and, conceiving his talents not duly appre-ciated, and himself slighted, he sailed from England and traveled throughout the continent, visiting Spain, France, Switzerland and Italy. During his tour he wrote the first two cantos of " Childe Harold." This poem, written in the verse of Spencer's " Fairie Queen," though often affectedly antiquated in style, and always darkened by skepticism and misanthropy, is energetic and manly in thought always, in spirit often, and his language is picturesque and expressive, conjuring from the world of fancy the weird but vivid and copious imagery that so uniformly characterizes all his poetry. This rhythmic tale is regarded as a poetical version of his own life, the central figure throughout the narrative no other than the haughty Byron himself, masquerading in an imperfect disguise. The spirit, the pictured career and dismal sentiments of the self-exiled hero, are all paralleled in Byron, though he strenuously denied their identity, alleging that Harold was wholly an inde-pendent creation, without an existing prototype, at least under his observation. The poet, however, in the fourth canto identi-fies himself with the gloomy pilgrim visiting earth's historic scenes, as if no longer caring to maintain his false character. All the poetry that followed was animated by the same spirit; characters were changed in name, but not in essence ; scenery was altered; the tale diversified by fresh incident; yet through it all stalked Harold's sombre ghost casting a shade of gloom and sadness over it, and breathing into it his philosophy of despair. Frequently Byron was bitter, but that in his attacks upon so-ciety, upon the virtues and excellencies of character, which most men admire and magnify, he was insincere, and did not give utterance to sentiments actually his own, only unsympathetic and misled readers dare assert. His poetry above any other of his age bears the stamp of its author's character, the seal of his spirit, though often gracefully concealed, and impresses the reader that whatever the scenes, whatever the characters, Byron is there and speaks from the innermost depths of his heart. "From the in-nermost depths of his heart," for in all his works the energy of his 252 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY spirit burns with a blazing heat and like a kindled furnace throws its wild glare upon the narrow scene it irradiates; little difference whether he wrote of angels or villains, of princes or beggars, the torch of his thought and feeling was lighted at the same flame. This sombre color and despairing energy of his genius, though admirable in the proper place and proportion, makes it impossible for him to sympathize with the ordinary and more generous feel-ings of humanity. He could not elevate the simple and obscure life, the pure love, the trials, the sorrows, the tradegy and comedy of those low in station and humble in fortune, into the realm of poetic beauty as Burns; Nature had denied him the tender respon siveness of heart to song of bird, ripple of brook, the sigh of wind, which it so richly bestowed upon Wordsworth. Byron was fasci-nated by rugged scenery, by nature in her violent moods but never loved her for herself, and though his poetry abounds with allusions to and descriptions of mountain and lake, ocean and forest, they serve but to suggest by analogy some mood of man—and that mood how monotonously the same ! What a sublime range of character, what inexhaustible re. sources of human feeling, what a wealth of poetic mystery, beauty and truth investing diversified nature and human life were left un-touched by his master pen. Had his energy of spirit not been perverted and confined to the narrow channels into which it was forced, had his harp been tuned to more numerous and pleasing chords, who can say that with his exuberance of imagination, ca-pacity for reflection and poetic insight and art, Byron would not have been the chief ornament of his day and generation, his mem-ory cherished with fondest admiration, and his poetry a more per-manent and vastly more desirable addition to our literature. Of this sad fact Byron was not ignorant and often took occasion in his verse to rebuke his impetuous and monotonous strain of feeling and ardently prayed for tranquillity of spirit and soberness of mind. Serene landscapes, peaceful waters, inspired longings "to forsake earth's troubled waters for a purer spring." "Clear placid Leman," he cries, "once I loved Torn ocean's roar but thy soft murmuring' Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved." During the early stages of his literary career he resolves but in vain to tame his wild passions and to think and feel as other men: THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 253 "Yet must I think less wildly; I have thought Too long and darkly, till my brain became In its own eddy boiling- and o'erwrought A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame, And thus untaught in youth my heart to tame My springs of life were poisoned,—"Tis too late." The tragedy of a soul here seems to reach its catastrophe in the utterance of the concluding sentence: '' 'Tis too late !'' Byron here appears to stand on a commanding eminence and view with retrospective survey the irredeemable past, lamenting the errors of his way, but all "too late," and theu with sublime heroism to submit to the doom prepared for him, "to feed on bitter fruits without accusing Fate;'' to chide himself with the guilt of his own desolation: "The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree I planted—they have torn me and I bleed, I should have known what fruit Would spring from such a seed." His poetry thus is the musical wail of a proud yet broken spirit; a life with many shattered yet many vibrant strings; it is a feast of beauty attended by the unclean spirits of an unchaste mind, a song with the vigor and spirit of a march and the sadness and gloom of a dirge; the tuneful philosophy of a man who knew both too much and too little of himself and his fellow mortals, who in tempest and calm sailed life's pathless sea without chart or compass; a man with more than the usual powers of men, but destitute of their most common possession—character. "A wandering mass of shapeless fame, A pathless comet and a curse, The menace of the universe, Still rolling on with innate force Without a sphere, without a course." —TID BITS. Oh, many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant; And many a word at random spoken May soothe or wound a heart that's broken. —SCOTT. 254 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY GIVING. When God brought forth the world we're told, He did it by decree, , Just spake the word, and chaos rolled Into consistency. But when the race of human-kind To sin became a slave, Not all the words in Perfect Mind Could ransom, so He gave. He gave his child, the anointed One, The best in Heaven above, That man might learn through His dear Son How God indeed is Love. And so must we, if we would be Found walking in His ways, Show to mankind that sympathy, That gives as well as prays. A word well said may often thrill, A happy song may cheer, But souls will ne'er be won, until Kind deeds with words appear. They are the vessels that contain The oil of healing grace, And they alone can free from pain The deep-scarred human race. Then let our eyes be e'er alert, Our neighbors' want to see, Our hands and feet grow more expert To bear them sympathy. For thus it is, each little chance Improved, becomes a gem, Whose lustre shall fore'er enhance Our heavenly diadem. —ERNIE. e$P Three poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy and England did adorn ; The first in loftiness of thought surpassed, The next in majesty, in both the last. The force of nature could no further go; To make a third she joined the former two. -DRYDEN. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entertdat the Postojfice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1901. ' No. 8 Editor-in- Chief, . A. VAN OR.MER, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HKTRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY; Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD. D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten 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 Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EXCHANGES. [From the January TOUCHSTONE, Lafayette.] Our Contemporaries. I HAVE heard it said that we never have original thoughts; that even those which we consider original have been worked over in the minds of others who have gone before. It seems impossible, however, that two college men, apparently far sepa-rated, should have had thoughts so exactly similar, and above all, that they should have expressed them in language so similar, as have two men representing two of our prominent colleges. This is an age of psychological phenomenon, and the power ot one mind over another is unquestioned ; but, if the case under consideration comes under this head, there evidently remains a field of psychological research yet unfathomed. 2S6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY We ask the aid of those interested in honest college literary work, in the solution of the following mystery : In the Nassau Literary Magazine for October, 1900, was printed the MacLeau prize oration, entitled "An Ideal of American His-tory." In the Gettysburg Mercury for November, 1900, appeared an oration, entitled " Abraham Lincoln." We quote from these two articles, and print them in parallel columns. AN IDEAL OF AMERICAN HISTORY. Thirty-five years have gone by and the Republic is stronger than ever. The battle smoke of the civil war has rolled away, and to-day when we look into the clear past, our first glance meets the colossal figure of Abraham Lincoln. He is an American mountain—when you view minutely and examine care-fully each particular crag or fea-ture, how homely he seems ! But stand back half a century, behold the entirety—do you not see an Al-mighty hand ? We say an Ameri-can mountain, for you cannot think of Lincoln as a Grecian or a Roman, he is not English and certainly not French—he is ours, the man be-longs to. us alone, while his fame is the world's. Our broad country can no more contain that, than the present race can compute its dura-tion. Ages are the units which shall measure its extent, and eter-nity shall not behold it9 comple-tion. Let us for a while then con-sider him who, under God's provi-dential hand, more than any other, preserved our liberties and main-tained for us our national govern-ment. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Thirty-five years have passed and the Republic is stronger than ever. The battle-smoke of civil war has rolled away, and as we louk into the clear past, our first glance meets the colossal figure of Abra-ham Lincoln. He seems a moun-tain— when you examine each par-ticular crag and feature, how home-ly he appears; but stand back half a century, behold theentirety—Do you not see the hand of God ! We wonder at him for his greatness, and we are proud of him that he is ours. We cannot imaging Lincoln as a Grecian or a Roman; he is not English and certainly not French —he belongs to us alone, but his fame is the world's. Our broad land can no more contain that than the present generation can esti-mate its duration; ages are the units which shall measure its ex-tent, and eternity shall not behold its completion. Let us for a while then consider him who, under God, more than any other, preserved our liberties and kept us as a peo-ple what we are. The Nassau Literary Magazine Princeton University Princeton, N. J., Jan. 29, 1901 Editor Gettysburg Mercury, « Dear Sir: You have probably noticed in the Lafayette Touchstone for January, 1901, in the department headed Our Contemporaries, that attention is called to two orations, one entitled "An Ideal of American History," which was published in this magazine in the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 257 October number and another, entitled "Abraham Lincoln," which appeared in your magazine for November. The opening para-graphs of the two orations are printed in parallel columns and are so similar that it leaves no doubt in our mind that either one was copied from the other or else both were taken from a common source. If you will read what the Toiichstonc says you will prob-ably come to the same conclusion. Now this matter should be sifted to the bottom and it is to the interest of both magazines to see that it is done. I send you a copy of the Lit. which contains "An Ideal of American History" and request that you send us the November number of the Mercury. Will you also state who wrote the oration on "Abraham Lincoln," when it was delivered, and when probably written. Also the home residence of the man who wrote it. "An Ideal of American History" was delivered here last June and won the Junior McLean Oratorical prize of $ioo. I trust you will appreciate the seriousness of this for both of us, and help me to find out the truth of the matter. Awaiting an early reply, I am, sincerely RALPH P. SWOFFORD. The above are self-explanatory. It but remains for the MER-CURY to clear away the accumulated mist, thus vindicating Mr. Heilman and his alma mater as well as the MERCURY. For this purpose we find sufficient testimony in Mr. Heilman's Statement. "March 9, 1900, I delivered the oration at Collegeville before the Pennsylvania Inter-Collegiate Oratorical Union; March 10, joined Glee Club on trip at Carlisle; March 19, returned to Get-tysburg from Glee Club trip and found awaiting me a letter from Princeton, written by a '97 alumnus of the Harrisburg High- School, whose classmate I had been for about 9 mouths. The letter asked me to send a copy of my oration for a few hints and ideas, as the '97 alumnus was preparing an oration soon to be de-livered. Sent copy of oration to Princeton March 20th or 21st. Handed oration to Dr. Himes in competition for Geis Prize— third number. [The third production for the Geis prizes is due May 1st.—Ed.] Have not seen the manuscript since." The oration came into possession of the MERCURY from the Geis prize committee through Dr. Himes, before the close of 258 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY college in June. We published it in the November MERCURY, and the original manuscript is still in our possession. We hope the above is a satisfactory explanation—that it is not necessary to ramble through that "field of psychological research yet unfathomed." It is to be hoped, further, that this, as a warn-ing to college men, may prove beneficial. Gettysburg does not suffer from the "mix up;" indeed we may feel complimented that one of our men wrote the oration that won the MacLean prize of $ioo at Princeton University, knowing that it was not sent for the use made of it. Princeton, come out. Lafayette, give us due credit. S. A. VAN ORMER, Ed. MERCURY. EDITORS' DESK. Following the custom of former years, no January number of the MERCURY was issued. The question of special programs in our literary societies is be-ing discussed. That they have merit no one will doubt; but whether they should occur so frequently is, indeed, a question. The object of the societies is to train their members for the duties that shall rest upon them in years to come by assisting in and completing that harmonious development that shall send the col-lege student into the world well-rounded. Our discoveries in science have been made by men who worked in seclusion; our masterpieces in literature and in art have not been wrought before the gaze of cheering throngs; the men who have "moved the masses" in days agone have frequently talked to the ocean's waves and the forest's trees. Young men, that they may be successful, must cultivate the habit of working with-out artificial stimulus. As this is the last issue of the present staff, we desire to ex-press our appreciation of the hearty support we have received from those interested in THE MERCURY. We have at all times had sufficient material on hand. Whether or not we have selected wisely the material used, others must determine. We have tried THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 259 to maintain the standard formerly held by THE MERCURY among the college journals of the State. In conclusion, we remind the Professors, Students and Alumni of Pennsylvania College that the standard of her journals have much to do with her success ; and we bespeak for the new staff the same hearty support given us, that the literary journal of the institution may be worthy ot Pennsylvania College. THE PAST OUR PRESENT PILOT. CHAS. LEONARD, '01, Reddig Junior Oratorical Prize. ■CAR back through the dim, dim vistas of the ages, when chaos, ■*■ darkness and void had receded in obedience to the eternal fiats of the Omnipotent, to give place to cosmos, light, and cre-ation, there appeared in that creation a creature whose progress and destiny have been the objects of the concern of two worlds. The earth was man's birthday present. "Go forth and subdue it" was the divine commission, and the history of the race is the story of the warfare that has been going on ever since that com-mission has been received. As the nineteenth century gates swing on their hinges, soon to shut into the hoary past another century, we feel like one who is leaving the harbor to sail an untried sea; in whose vision friends throwing kisses of good-by, and waving handkerchiefs for a suc-cessful voyage, are fast fading from view, and from whose sight the well beloved shore is receding and has at last merged into the misty horizon overhanging the deep. In the stately ship of civilization we are about to launch on a trackless ocean. Farewell to the past—only its lessons are any longer ours. Welcome the future, in which we are to live and act! I^et our prayers be united that our majestic ship may clear all the dangerous rocks that lie just beneath the surface, any one of which may prove fatal to the progress of the "Ship of State." As we stand at the stern of the vessel, looking out upon the watery expanse stretching into eternity on either side of the wake, with our mind's eye we take a retrospective glance into the history of the past. We look into the realm of discovery and we note that the most important contribution of this realm to civilization has been the discovery of laws in the moral and the physical universe. 260 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Ages ago the minds of men craved to understand the laws of the heavenly bodies, and the skies did speak to the old Chaldean shepherds, but in an unknown language. They were transported by the rich melody of the spheres, but could not appreciate or understand the celestial anthem. Ptolemy listened and caught a few scattered words; Copernicus hearkened and caught the first full sentences: Kepler and Newton gave us the first translation of the rythmical language of the heavenly orbs. Thus we see the gradual development of the scientific spirit in the presence of which truth has always unveiled her face and made herself known, as she has come to answer the everlasting "Why?" of science. In philosophy the same development is strikingly real. Man in his eagerness to answer the two questions concerning himself of "Whence?" and "Whither?" at first indulged in speculations that seem to us to the last degree chimerical. Twenty-five centuries have made but comparatively few changes on the face of the material world. A Greek of the fifth century B. C. might still find his way without difficulty from town to town of his native Hellas, and recognize at a glance the scenes of his childhood days, but he would find the world of thought a new creation or rather the old so transformed as to be unrecognizable. We have emanated from the mist and fog which enveloped the old Pagan philosophers. We have transcended the highest thought of grand old Socrates. Thought can no longer be said to be "An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry." In the sunlight of truth this infant of thought has grown to a great stature, though it has not yet attained the perfect symmetry of maturity. The discovery of laws has been just as important and extensive in the social and political world as in the realm of philosophy. Every century has been an improvement over the preceding. Nations have been born, grown up, and died, while history, the coroner of the fallen empires of the past, has declared at the autopsy, "The cause of death was the result of a departure from law, either undiscovered or disobeyed" and standing, a silent sentinel, in the ashes of their former glory, pointing her finger toward the future she says in prophetic voice to all surviving nations "Beware!"— THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 261 a word so full of meaning when uttered by such an authoritative voice. Are we heeding this long sounded warning? Shall we dare say that the past is meaningless? Shall we not profit by the wise instruction it has to give? The Mu
' % JUNE, 1900 ooThe0o Qettysbiir Mercury CONTENTS The Evolution of the Thinker, 103 In the Storm, . 110 The Dawn of Idealism, . . Ill The Voice of the Sea, . . 117 A Critique of the Doctrines of Heraclitus, . . . 118 The Noble Hero, . Women as Teachers, Spring, . Editor's Desk Otsego Lake, The Turk in Religion, 121 124 126 127 129 133 \sW-G'BURG C. US, DUPLICATE FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to Tk Jo Co Wile Frigiiii Howe CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. KitzmMer Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and . Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. B. Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGAR S. MARTIN, ^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Q£T" t^T* t^* Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. Like to learn Spanish? An easy Jan guage to learn. A JlimfuhVs Spanish Method. Self-teaching. SiianUh-ICiKiHx^Engllsh-SpanUh Diction'y, Hossfeld's Italian Method. Self-teaching. I/nlian-ICinjlixh, English-Italian Dictionary, Hossfeld's German Method. SelJ'-teaehlng. . Qerman-English,Engli8h-German Dictionary, $2.00 lloxsfeld's French Method. Sell-teaching. $1.00 French-Fnr/iish, Enalish-Frenck Dictionary. $2.00 lirooks" 1st Latin Jiook. 50 eta. Latin-English, English-Latin Dictionary. $2.00 Jlrooks' \st Greek Lessons. 50 ct3. Greek-English, English-Greek Dictionary. $2.00 Literal Translations of the Classics—Latin, Greek, Germun, French. Eighty-flvc volumes, sold separately, 50 eta. each. Sendfor list. HINDS & HOBLE, Publishers 4-5-1S-14 Cooper Institute N. Y. City Schoolbooks ofall pub-lishers at one store. orsome other v////////// language? .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1900. No. 4 THE EVOLUTION OP THE THINKER. PROF. OSCAR G. KLINGEK. (Address on Education before the Susciuehanna Synod, May 9,1900.) TT is my privilege to engage your attention for a little while in A some phase of the general subject of education. It is a sub-ject in which you are profoundly interested, and of the import-ance of which you have a keen appreciation. I take it for granted that you are accustomed to give this hour, not that you may be entertained by an elaborate discourse filled with educa-tional truisms and platitudes, but to hear from some member of your body the newest and best thought of which he is capable. I conceive, therefore, that from me you desire to hear this even-ing what ideal I have of education—what, in my judgment, should be the aim of every system of intellectual discipline. Without hesitation, and asking no favors of adverse criticism, I present for your consideration " The Evolution of the Thinker." Whatever is true in my presentation, I ask you to accept ; what-ever does not appeal to your judgment, I ask you to believe to be the honest expression of a growing conviction. The first voice of the Aryan race to utter its thought was the poet of the Vedic Hymns. In that remote past, when the migra-tion of nations from the old Iudo-Germanic home was peopling Europe and the western part of Asia, the Aryans that settled In-dia were resting for a brief spell in the mountains which form the northwestern boundary of that country. Their eye swept the valley of the Ganges and the valley of the Indus, and as that magnificent landscape lay before them like another Promised L,and, their bards sang of the future. I mention this because in this first voice there is the recognition of the three-fold mystery of existence which is yet but partly solved—the mystery of self, the mystery of the universe, and the mystery of God. It has been 104 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. peculiarly the problem of the Indo-Germanic peoples. They only, believing in the authority of the Reason, and being free from the paralysis of fatalism, have dared to pry into things to get, if possible, their inmost secrets. The effort to explain the mystery of self has resulted in all that is known as logic, psychology and ethics; the effort to solve the mystery of the universe has resulted in all that is known as science; and the effort to solve the mys-tery of God has resulted in metaphysics. I have said that the mystery of existence is peculiarly the problem of the Aryan mind, and this finds its proof in the fact that in all other races mythology takes the place of thinking. The nations listen to the voice of fancy, and accept her dreams as the explanation of reality. Hence the lack of progress in the non-Aryan races. One glance at the history of thought among Aryan peoples reveals the business of the thinker. It is to explain the universe as he experiences it. It is to construe in thought the facts as they are presented to his consciousness. In doing this he must be alive to the authority of the Reason; he must inexorably follow her leadings; he must accept her conclusions. Not only this, but his thinking must bear the marks of his own individuality. In process and conclusion it must be distinctly his own. To master another man's thought, to adopt it as his own, is a valuable ex-ercise; but at best it can be only a propaedeutic to his own think-ing. What I wish to emphasize is this, that a man's thought is always an abstract of his own psychic being. A brief survey of the philosophy of knowledge will show the truth of this assertion. Objective cognition involves, first, a world of reality, which can act upon the sensory nerves and furnish the materials of knowledge; secondly, a human mind which is capable of reacting upon the stimulus, and interpreting the presentation; thirdly, the postulate that the principles which are constitutive of intelligence shall at the same time be the principles of cosmic being. i. B3' sense-perception we recognize reality as actually exist-ing and objective, not on the testimony of one sense alone but of all the senses. Even if we mistrust the report of the senses, we still have an invincible proof of the reality of a thing in its power to resist our will. Our whole conscious life, too, is the proof that this world of reality does act continuously upon all the senses, whether we attend to all of them at the same time or not; THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 105 and a single moment of reflection will discover to us that all the data of objective knowledge come in through the sensory nerves. Whatever truth there may be in idealism of the type of Berkeley, we are nevertheless certain that an external world does exist, and does act upon the nerves of sense. The first condition of ob-jective cognition, therefore, is met. 2. Again, self-consciousness reveals the existence of a human mind, which is our own true being. This mind exists as states of consciousness, each of which is a complex, and linked by laws of association with what goes before and what follows after. Every moment of our lives is a conscious reaction of this mind against the stimuli which reach it through the nerves of sense. In this reaction the presentation is interpreted by means of the principles which are constitutive of intelligence. Phenomena are brought under the category of substance; uniformities under that of law; persistence amid variety under that of identity; so in the interpretation of every single, definite presentation are used all the categories or ideas of the Reason, and used in the same way by every human intelligence the world over. For the Reason is not individualized but universal, the same for all intelligence. So far, then, all men must think alike. But the ideas of the Reason do not fill up the measure of the reacting mind. Beyond these primary elements which are univer-sal, the objective universe is a variable quantity, being for each mind the creation of its own endowment. As the endowment differs with the individual, it follows that no two persons can have precisely the same universe. Now, since all thinking is the explanation of experience, and as all experience is particularized, it follows that all thinking must be the abstract of the psychic being of the thinker. To this point we shall return a little later. 3. Our warrant for accepting the postulate that the principles constitutive of intelligence itself are also the principles of cosmic being, may find its illustration in the mathematical theory of the universe. Pure mathematics is a deduction from the Reason it-self, and wholly subjective. Its principles belong to the essence of spirit. And yet these mathematical principles are used in the interpretation of phenomena, and so precisely do they fit the sys-tem of things that prediction based upon calculation has become the mark of science. Knowledge is never scientific until it be-comes mathematical. io6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. It was said above that a man's thought must be an abstract of his psychic being. This psychic being must be studied in order that all the elements which it supplies in the act of cognition may be definitely understood. It is never a chance product. What any man is at any moment is always the resultant of his reaction upon external stimulus under the bias of his inheritance and en-vironment. This statement recognizes three facts of human life —the fact of heredity, the fact of environment, and the fact of personality. Let us study their meaning as it relates to the thinker. i. By the term heredity we name that law according to which an organism tends to reproduce its kind. Its action in the biology of plants and animals is an every day fact, and needs no illustra-tion. Its action, too, in the human physical organism is well un-derstood. In the realm of psychology and ethics its meaning is only beginning to dawn even upon scholarship. There its sig-nificance is truly startling. For in human life it means that all life is an unbroken continuity; that each new life is but the last edition of a long line; that the babe which comes to you with all the appearance of sweet innocence—" fresh from the hand of God," as we are fond of saying—that your babe is but you and your ancestors making a new start in the old life—you and your ancestors, With sufficient marks of difference to constitute a distinct individuality." "He is a new product just because he represents a new combination of ancestral influences." Perhaps you are ready to doubt this teaching, and call for some higher authority than your speaker's. Listen, then, to Prof. Sully, one of England's most conservative and most prominent psycholo-gists : "The normal human brain, with its correlated psychical capacities, is, like the human organism as a whole, the result of the hereditary transmission of specific or typical characters from progenitor to offspring." "The child brings with it into the world an outfit of instinctive tendencies or dispositions constituting the natural basis of the civilized or uncivilized man." "In this way we all bring into the world, wrought into the very texture of our brain-centers, the physical basis ot our future individual charac-ter, mental and moral." " The child inherits from its series of ancestors, woven into the texture of its nervous system, a number of dispositions representing ages of ancestral experience." And Dr. G. Stanley Hall: " Heredity has freighted it (the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 107 body) with all the results of parental well and ill-doing, and filled it with reverberations from the past more vast than science can explore." You cannot fail to see the truly awful significance of this un-doubted law. It means that the whole life of the offspring is largely, though, thank God, not wholly, conditioned by the men-tal and moral character of its progenitors. The thoughts which the child thinks, the feelings which it loves best to entertain, the bias and disposition which manifest themselves at such a tender age, and generally continue throughout life, are not original with it, but have their roots back in the lives from which its life sprang. It is not what it would be, and for what it is it is not responsible. Its bias and tendencies, its instincts and impulses, are such as its ancestors have transmitted to it in brain and nerve substance. 2. "Men start out, then, in existence with a vital capital sup-plied by their ancestry, which is modified more or less by the law of diversity." But from the very moment when that individual life begins, another fact becomes of supreme importance—the fact of environment. By this term we designate "the sum of the influences and agencies which affect an organism from with-out." Soil and climate, food and work, and, above all, hu-man comradeship, constitute a man's environment. And all of this is individualized. A babe opens its eyes upon a specific set of visual phenomena; its ears are responsive to a particular set of sounds; its other senses are in due time recipient of definite sets of appropriate impressions. Its mind at first is but potential; but at once it reacts upon the incoming currents, at first feebly, but then with growing strength. Its only content at first is the bundle of dispositions and biases, mainly neural, which are ances-tral in their origin ; and the entire furnishing of its mind is that which comes to it through sense-perception. In other words, each individual mind depends for the character of its ideas upon the environment in which it lives. But the mere physical facts that lie about do not constitute its true environment. A selective process is carried on. Out of the whole number of actual pre-sentations to consciousness, it selects such only as are most con-genial to its native disposition. This process continues with the development of the psychic being of every man, his objects of io8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. knowledge being mainly those phenomena which are most to his taste. 3. Heredity and environment form a large part of every human life, but they do not constitute the whole of it. Their binding power is great, but not entirely irresistible. Men do make choices which are in direct antagonism to both. Many a man whose heredity was all evil has conquered his bias, and lived a true life. This power to choose in opposition to all pre-natal and post-natal influences we call the Will. It is the essence of personality. It is not wholly free, can hardly be said to be free at all at the start; but it is every man's privilege to grow into freedom, and this, in the last analysis, is his chief business in the world. To grow into freedom, to develop into a perfect ethical being, this is his birthright from God—it is the mark of God upon his forehead. The psychic being of every man, then, contains elements which are ancestral in their origin, elements which belong to his early environment, and elements which belong to the constitu-tion of the mind itself. And this is the problem of the educator: Given a human mind, which must react upon and explain the external world, but is itself under the biasing power of ancestral and environmental influences, how shall it construe facts in har-mony with their actual nature ? how shall its thought be a true transcript of reality ? If I have made clear what has been said, then one great prin-ciple has become patent, viz.: Every system of intellectual discipline must have as its supreme aim the mental emancipation of the studejit. All other objects must be subordinated to this. The mind must be so developed that it can cognize a fact in its bleak objectivity. Every prejudice must be laid aside and set at naught. The power of opinion must be broken. The colored lights must be dissipated by the white light of reason. For the true thinker can state his problem only thus : Given the fact, how am I to con-strue it in strict accord with its occurrence ? Now, this freedom of mind is a possible achievement. On its physical side, education is a process of brain-building. It is the creation of new brain-cells. It is a deepening of the convolu-tions . It is no longer doubted by psychologists that thought power depends upon the number and integrity of the brain-cells. Mind and brain are exactly correlated, and every psychic function is accompanied by a corresponding neural process. Since education THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 109 is thus on its one side the creation of new cells, may we not sup-pose that such cells lack, in large measure, at least, the bias which dominates the brain of the undisciplined man ? They will, I am sure, if the master-hand who guides the process be a true educator. But on its psychical side, too, education may lead to freedom. Whatever may be the elements of determinism, the will is yet free in the most of its choices. L,et a youth, dominated by the passion for pure thought, determine to conquer all the bias of his nature —determine to think the universe of his experience for himself— determine that facts shall be construed in harmony with their oc-currence, and then let him persevere in this determination, and the day will dawn which will mark his victory. The universe he thinks must still be his universe ; the facts he seeks to construe must be the facts which he experiences and as he experiences them. His thought, therefore, even when uncolored by sub-jective lights and shadows, must still be his own—must bear the marks of his own individuality. This, then, is the first step in the development of the thinker. The discipline through which he passes must have as its supreme aim his emancipation from every form of bias, gift or prejudice under which at the start he lies bound. This is the first step ; but there is a second of equal import-ance. If a man is to think truly he must have the privilege of thinking freely. His environment must be conducive to freedom of thought. I know of nothing which so paralyzes effort as the expectation of being misunderstood and persecuted. No scholar can object to his thought being brought to the test of reality. That is what he craves. Theories are worthless unless they ex-plain facts. All thinking, therefore, must at every point be brought to the test of things. And no true thinker ever shrinks from this test. What he must fear is that his thought will be brought to the test of opinion. Appeal in philosophy is so often an appeal to authority. Now, in some spheres of human interests authority may have its place, but the sphere of thought is not one of them. Each man's thought is valuable in the degree in which it is a true transcript of the cosmic processes, but upon you and me it can have no possible binding power whatever. From the beginnings of European thought to the present time the objective facts have been pretty much the same. Theories iib THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY have been offered for their explanation. The finest minds of each generation have grappled anew with the problem. Much has been achieved, but more still remains to be made rational. Never in its history has the world needed thinkers as in these days of ours. The world's necessity is the educator's opportunity, and more is being done than ever before to enable the student to de-velop into the thinker. But when his thought is laid before the world, and she sees upon it the stamp of his own personality, let her not scream "sceptic," and " infidel" and " atheist;" but let her humbly and gratefully sift his thought, and save the wheat for her granary. For the time has come when of the thinker we may demand that he accept facts as facts, and that he construe them in thought in harmony with the mind's own laws ; but not that he conform his thought to authority, either ancient or mod-ern. Opinion has no place in the test of thought. IN THE STO'RM. I Fast to the anchor on the shore The boat was rocking upon the deep, A cradle for the sleeping' child. The quick storm rose ; the old sea roar Riyalled the thunder ; jerk and sweep Of wave broke loose the boat, ere, wild, The father came. Though all was black, By the trembling- flash that split the east, He saw the child. Mad with alarms He neared the shore. The sea fell back To its vast heap—then rushing fast Swept safe his child into his arms. II Oh, Father, if the storms of sin Break my hold on the anchor of hope And cast me on the wild life sea, When on that shore the waves roll in, Thy everlasting arms then ope And save and clasp and pity me. I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. til THE DAWN OF IDEALISM. LDIHES A. WEIGLE, '00. A STUDY in the earlier history of our race, or of some phase **■ of its multiform life and belief, is a task of great difficulty, but which possesses, at the same time, a singular charm. For though that distant world of beginnings is but imperfectly recorded in those of its products which have reached succeeding genera-tions ; though it costs the greatest effort to make real for us the conditions of life and modes of thought of its remote people; thoughstep afterstep in their development can be but conjectured— in these very facts, it seems, there lies a delight which the student alone can attain. There is something intensely attractive about his work as he gropes among the dim shadows of the past, catching here a gleam and here a glimpse of light, which become, to his sensitive soul, a realization, however imperfect, of the dawn of society, of religion, of reason. Among these beginnings, then, that which perhaps appeals most strongly to the mind of the scholar is the dawn of reason, the genesis of real thought. Not without justice, too, for the pre-eminence of humanity lies in the reason, and so may the first steps in the true development of its nascent capabilities be most fit objects of study. There is a peculiar fitness as well as a delight iu looking back at the pioneers of thought approaching the problems with which their successors have grappled likewise; in watching the unfolding of intellect as their conceptions ad-vanced. The proper study of mankind is man ; may we not say with equal truth that the proper study of a rational being is reason. It is significant that this awaking of thought did not take place till so late a date in history as 600 B. C.—the time that men have thought of the great problems of the universe has been centuries less than the former period of mental apathy. But perhaps we should not term it so; it was the period of prepara-tion. The time was ripe for thought; the intellect was keyed to the strain that was to be put upon it; for from Thales, with his turning from mythology to philosophy, but with his poor princi-ple of moisture as the ultimate cause, to Plato, with his turning philosophy into the direction it has since kept, with his doctrines almost Christ-like, and with his idealistic philosophy which has 112 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. only lately reached its fullest development, was a period of only two hundred years—absurdly small as compared with the centuries that had gone before and those that have followed. A study of any period of those two hundred years, in many respects the most fruitful in the history of thought, must necessarily be of the richest character. Our subject is concerned with the close of this period, with the laying down, by one man, of the foundation of true philosophy. For Plato, with his idealism, however imperfect, turned thought in the direction it has since followed, and to him must be ascribed our gratitude for the first overthrowal of sensationalism. True, Socrates was the master, the real pioneer ; but all the best that we have of Socrates is through Plato; and he went far beyond Socrates. He caught up the scattered threads of his master's thought; he carried each precious suggestion to its logical end, and added his own crystalline reasoning; and then he wove it all together into a clear system of philosophy which must yet command our respect. Not to say that Plato embodied his thought formally and logically as a system, for it is widely scattered throughout his dialogues, and nowhere arranged with that intent; but it stands clearly and boldly distinct amid the multitude of chaff, so that a student of his writings gains a definite understanding of his thought-concep-tion of the universe. Most of his teaching is put in the mouth of Socrates, a fact which leaves open much for discussion. Many have conceived this Platonic Socrates as a purely dramatic invention. "Plato himself," says Walter Pater, "but presented, with the reserve appropriate to his fastidious genius, in a kind of stage disguise." Just how far this is true, or, on the other hand, how far Plato recorded dialogues that really took place, and the true utterances of his master, we shall possibly never know. But there is no doubt that Plato was an independent thinker, and not a mere scribe, a Boswell before his time. Socrates prepared and suggested; Plato finished that work, and the" enlarged suggestion from its logical completion made it possible for him to transcend the task his master had set him. And Plato's task was by no means easy. From the time of his entering the field of philosophy he was plunged into a combat with the Sophists, who had firm possession of the public mind. Their brilliant show of rhetoric and self-satisfied claim of wisdom THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 113 and ability to educate appealed to the minds of the Athenians, just awaking to their intellectual capabilities, far more trrau the modest claims of Socrates and his pupils, and their confessed search after truth. What the Athenian wanted was ability to help himself in the life of his day, and to defend himself before his numerous courts; and the quickest way to such an education was what he sought. There was a strong basis of fact in the Sophists' claim of superiority to Socrates and Plato—in point of popularity at least. There was no such glamour in the sincere quest of reality as in the Sophists7 wisdom—pyrites is sometimes more beautiful than gold. And it was not only in the common mind of the people that Plato had to overcome a presumption in favor of the Sophists. Their doctrines were dominant among the thinkers of the day, among those few pioneer minds who busied themselves with matters deeper than those called for by the exigencies of every day life. They taught what has been revived again and again by men after them, the doctrine of sensationalism ; and it is a mode of thought which appeals most strongly to our first reflection, an error into which it is the easiest thing in the world to fall. "Sensationalism," says Prof. Ferrier, "is supported by the natural sentiments of mankind; it is the scheme which suggests itself most readily to the untutored understanding; it is a product of ordinary thinking. When left to ourselves we are naturally of opinion that all our knowledge comes to us through the senses; that the senses are the main, indeed, the sole means and instru-ments ot cognition, and this opinion is nothing but the doctrine of sensationalism." When we remember, then, that this vulgar, natural error of common thought was supported and systematized by the Sophists, and upheld by their brilliant logic and showy pretensions, which appealed so strongly to the Athenian mind, we can understand in some degree what a force Plato was com-bating— the picture of Socrates drinking the hemlock "for cor-rupting the youth" is perhaps not so inexplicable. "Man is the measure of all things," said the Sophists, This reference of the universe to the individual not only relegated all knowledge to the realm of sense-perception, neglecting wholly the higher processes of thought, but wrought far greater mischief in the realm of ethics. Individual responsibility and individual judgment of the good without any abiding principle is nothing ii4 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. but moral chaos. Socrates saw this, and he brought all his magnificent powers of thought and speech to bear against it. He called vice, ignorance, and virtue, knowledge; the true life, to his mind, was the rational life. He taught the independent objective existence of the eternal principles, and that morality lay in the more or less perfect knowledge of these fundamentals. His first endeavor, therefore, was to find a correct theory of knowledge; his most particular aim was a logical definition of the concept. "At the basis of all thought, as Kant has clearly demonstrated, must be a critique of the mind's power to know." Such was the task, then, that Socrates gave over to Plato, and we can only understand Plato's work if we remember this as his aim. "His inquiry was—How to think the universe as given in experience." Plato did not undertake his work blindly, but with a full con-ception of all that it demanded of him. He has been called the creator of philosophy, and, indeed, his thought marks more than a mere step in the line of progress; but he did not make the mistake of attempting total originality. His thought bears the unmistakable marks of careful and thorough study in all that had gone before. Plato was a master of Pre-Platonism. His work was the outcome of a consideration of prior thought; he carefully weighed the previous systems, and took from each its principle of truth. From Heracleitus he derived the doctrine of the perpetual flux—itavra /kc ; from the Eleatics, the permanence of Being; from Pythagoras, the principle of number. For the realm of sense-perception the view of Heracleitus is correct. The senses present a succession of ever-changing phenomena. But Plato saw where Heracleitus failed—in affirming that there is no Being, but Becoming; that "the one thing permanent in a world of change is the law which governs the change." If this were true, knowledge would be impossible-—man would be no better than the brute. Consciousness recognizes-something other than this, for it reacts upon and interprets the phenomena of presenta-tion— there is interaction. And therefore, Plato rejected Becom-ing as the absolute principle of the universe, and adopted the Elea-tic notion of Being. There is Reality, he affirmed; but here again he modified the older doctrine, for the changing phenomena of the universe demand something other than the Eleatic Being, changeless, fixed, " a stony stare." And here came the last of the three prior systems to his help—the Pythagorean number; tafe THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "5 mathematical relation mediates between pure being and the changing world. "Pythagoras brought back to Plato's recog-nition," says Walter Pater, "all that multiplicity in men's experience to which Heracleitus had borne such emphatic witness; but as rhythm and melody now, in movement truly, but moving as disciplined sound and with the reasonable soul of music in it." Thus was posited the foundation, not only of Platonic philosophy, but of future thought, in a blending of the guesses of those gropers in the shadows who had gone before. There is change, but not change alone; there is Being, but not changeless Being; there is the union of the two in an interaction of harmony and design. Why that, we say, is modern! Plato is not an ancient philosopher! But Plato's philosophy did not stop here; the most distinctive doctrine of his thought was yet to be developed from this. Socrates had recognized the reaction of the soul in interpreting the phe-nomena of sense; he had seen how the mind abstracts the resem-blances and recombines them in a class-notion, a concept, and, as has been said, one of his most particular aims was the logical definition of this universal. This general concept Plato received from Socrates, and from it he reached his doctrine of ideas, which, more than any other, gives distinction to his thought. In some points almost fantastic, as we now see it, it was a tremendous stride toward the apprehension of reality, and was the starting point of idealistic philosophy. Every human being in the simplest act of knowledge makes use of these concepts or ideas, but he is unconscious of their nature, even of their presence as such; he does not apprehend them as the necessary and essential instruments of thought. Plato saw this, and his conception of ideas became far different from that of Socrates. For Socrates they had been serviceable creations of the reason, essentially subjective in their existence. But Plato detached them from concrete things and gave them objective existence by themselves as real things, independent of the individual mind. Knowledge, he said, is in some sense not active, but passive; these ideas are not the instruments by which we think our experience, but the cause of our thought. Walter Pater puts it clearly : '' They are themselves rather the proper objects of all true knowledge, and a passage from all merely relative experience to the 'absolute.' In proportion as they blend n6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. themselves to the individual, in his effort to think, they create reason in him; they reproduce the eternal reason for him." These ideas are necessary, then; and hence it easily follows that they are universal and co-extensive with reality. Plato also conceived them as innate, not conflicting in this sense with their objectivity and reality; but innate in that they are not the products of experience, but lend themselves to the mind, ready to be called forth by the sense-impressions of experience. In this lay the principle that the seeds of knowledge have a pre-existence in the mind and may be brought forth by growth and development from within, but not imparted to the mind from without. And herein was another point of difference from the Sophists, for they looked on the mind as a waxen tablet on which nothing was originally inscribed, and boasted that'they could impart any knowledge to the pupil; whereas Plato judged with Socrates that true educa-tion lay in drawing from the child's own mind the principles there innate by stimulating the reflective powers. These ideas were conceived also, not as the creative agency, but as prototypes for its use and patterns for reality as we gain it in experience. There is a world of ideas immeasurably higher and purer than this world of sense—our earth compares with it as the shadow with the substance. Plato himself draws this analogy in the "Republic." He supposes a cavern which opens to the day by a long passage before whose mouth is a great fire. Within the cavern are men bound in such manner that they can look only toward the inner wall of the cave, on which are the shadows of the men and animals passing in the outer world between the fire and the mouth of the cave. "These captives exactly represent the condition of us men who see nothing but the shadows of realities. And these captives in talking with one another would give names to the shadows as if they were realities. And if, further, this prison-house had an echo opposite to it, so that when the passers-by spoke the sound was reflected (from the same wall on which the shadows were seen) they would, of course, think that the shadows spoke. And, in short, in every way they would be led to think there were no realities except these shadows." He then imagines that one of these captives is loosed and dragged up into the outer world, and pictures first his pain and blindness in the presence of the true light and his disbelief in the reality of his impressions ; then how he is gradually enabled to see and to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 117 know the truth, and his unwillingness to take up again his former condition. "We must liken the visible world to the dark cavern and the fire which makes objects visible to the sun. The ascent upwards and the vision of the objects there is the advance of the mind into the intelligible world; at least such is my faith and hope. . . . God knows if my faith is well-founded. And, ac-cording to my view, the idea of the Supreme Good is seen last of all and with the greatest difficulty, and when seen is apprehended as the cause of all that is right and excellent. This idea produces in the visible world light and the sun the cause of light; in the intellectual world it is the cause of truth and the intuition of truth." And so these ideas are not co-ordinate, but at the head of all is the notion of the Good. Plato's philosophy has led us to the conception of the Infinite, as must every rational system. And so dawned idealistic philosophy, with its roots far back in the very first of the thinkers, and its plain development in the thought of one man. There is much that is chaff in the pages of Plato, but there is more that is truth. Scribens est mortuus, says Cicero—"he died pen in hand ;" and his work has lived ever after him. For we cannot get away from Plato; his thought is an anticipation of all that has followed. He is ever new and fresh ; his thought is always modern. THE VOICE OF THE SEA. C. M. A. STINE, '01. I sat by the shore of the heaving- sea As the darkness of night grew deeper, And the limitless ocean seemed to me Ivike the lace of a dreaming sleeper. So I listened to the deep-toned murmur, ' Watching the fog wreaths creep Slowly, treacherously nearer To the pallid sands at my feet. I questioned the gray old ocean Who is ever, yet never, the same, "Whereunto hath God created us ? Is't but to sorrow and pain ?" But the all knowing, fathomless sea, As it rolled vast, foam crested and dim, To the paling light of the horizon, Was gray, relentless and grim. n8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The billows sighed for the mystery And the sorrow of this mortal span ; For man's short life and the losses That come in "three score and ten." "Is this all of your fabled knowledge ?" Broke from me then in my pain, For I sought to find comfort and soothing In the voice of the tossing main. In agony of soul I gazed seaward, When softly over the deep Stole an imperceptible radiance, As the dawn lights on the mountains creep. The mystery of the tossing billows Was hushed, and the thunderous murmur One cadence breathed on the night wind,— "Forget not the love of the Father." Ah, the peace that then came stealing As deep called afar unto deep; The assurance "Thy Father loves thee" Soothed my spirit to dreamless sleep. A CRITIQUE OF THE DOCTRINES OF MERACLITUS. WILLIAM W. FREY, '00. T TERACLITUS. the last representative of the Ionian school of * *■ Greek philosophy, lived, according to Laertius, in Ephesus, about 500 B. C. He belonged to one of the first families of Ephesus, and this is very manifest in the tone of his writings, in his contempt for the masses. In character he was of a melancholy temperament, without political ambition, disliking social inter-course, but greatly inclined towards philosophical speculation. His style of writing, as revealed to us in fragments, was concise, abrupt and very obscure; this obscurity has been attributed to dif-ferent causes by the historians. Ritter supposes it to have been due to the early infancy of prose philosophical writing and to the inadequacy of words to express accurately the thoughts of the lofty range of speculation in which he indulged. Mallet, Descartes and others ascribe it to an intention of the author not to make his meaning accessible to the common people. As to the contents of his work, there is also much controversy. Some regard it as ethical, others political, others solely metaphysical. It seems THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 119 likely, as Mallet says, that Heraclitus gave a wider range to phi-losophy in that he included physical, political, moral and mythical questions within his discussion. The problem he sought to solve—common to the Ionian school—was to discover the physical ground of all phenomena ; the principle which pervades and lies back of all natural phenom-ena. It was the "end of wisdom," Heraclitus held, to find this principle. He differed from the others, however, in assuming the position that Reality has necessarily its ground and principle in an "absolute, universal, illimitable, living, perfect essence," en-dued with vital energy or force, and, disregarding the hypothesis of the independent existence of individuals, he endeavored to grasp this notion. Furthermore, he attempted, too, to find out the law of development,—how all things came from this first principle. Let us now view more closely his philosophy, noting the falsity of some of his doctrines as we do so. The principle which seemed to him the most powerful, subtle and pervading of all elements was ''fire;" so he founded his system, according to Draper, upon the simple axiom "that all is convertible into fire and fire into all." By this fire, however, he means not a flame but a sort of dry vapor, using it symbolically to represent the principle of universal vital-ity,— something more than the "arche" of previous philosophy— a life pervading all. He held that from this one principle, all things proceed, and are again resolved into it by a perpetual flux. Nature resembles a river flowing incessantly. There is no Being but Becoming; the common character of all phenomena is a perpetual strife, but still a strife according to necessary, irresistible laws. By opposi-tion wehave harmony ; by rarefaction and condensation, all things, by contraries, all movement. So fire in producing all things; passes through a series of transformations—this is strife; and again, by assimilation all things die out—this is peace. Testing this thought by actual life experiences, one cannot help but notice how true it is. Life is a struggle; death is rest. In his adaptation of fire as a symbol, again we seethe appropriateness, for fire is rest-less, striving, longing to pass into other forms, continually active until extinguished. But when we consider further that he denies existence to everything except the Law of Change, fallacies are very apparent. I 120 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. For motion always implies something that moves; change sug-gests materials which are transformed. There can be no "real" phenomena thought of, except in connection with something ex-isting. One attribute is necessary to every substance, viz. Being; and, of course, we must have substance in order to conceive of any attribute at all, such as capability of motion, which is essen-tial to the phenomena of motion or change. Though there is con-tinual change, nevertheless we see more than the process, we see also the things themselves changing. At this place, we must con-sider another false doctrine of Heraclitus—shared later by other philosophers. His teaching that our senses are unreliable and practice deception when they give us certain impressions, is found in different forms and under various guises in the writings of Hamilton, J. S. Mill, Bain, Spencer and others. To discuss this subject,—"the relativity of knowledge," would require a greater expansion of our topic than would be proper. Suffice it to say, in Dr. Valentine's words, that "this theory in whatever form, would do away with the possibility of attaining truth of any kind." The best philosophy of centuries affirms the truth that the ''ratio cognoscendi is grounded in the ratio essendi.'' Of course, Heraclitus, not accepting the senses as giving us truth, and start-ing with the assumed basis of eternal motion, could easily deny Being. Another doctrine, palpably false, which reappeared again many years later, was the "universality of belief as the criterion of truth." He maintained that the universal or divine reason, that medium which surrounds us, which is common to all, only could be relied upon ; but the conceptions of the individual reason were not to be trusted. He says, "to think is common to all; and he that would speak rationally must abide by that which is main-tained by all in common." It must be borne in mind that all his doctrines concerning things both subjective and objective are wholly speculative, not empirical. In pursuing his "vital principle" he lost sight so entirely of the individual that he considered it only as purely phenomenal and delusive. "The only proper starting point is the individual.'' Having begun, as he did with the assumption of the reality only of the universal energy, and then, too, considering this as pure transition alone, it is no wonder that the individual drops out en-tirely as such, and is merged into the universal. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 121 As to his theory regarding the physical universe little need be said. If one bears in mind that it was all theory and not observa-tion, all a priori speculation and not science, his hypotheses will not appear so very unreasonable after all. He supposed the heavens to be basins or bowls, the concave part turned towards us; the stars and sun, flames from earthly evaporations; the size of the sun is just twelve inches ; it is kindled every morning and goes out every night; eclipses are caused by the turning around of the basins. His moral system is based upon the physical, the fundamental doctrine being the excellence of fire. Thus he accounted for a drunkard's acts, by his having a moist soul, and drew the infer-ence that a warm or dry soul is best. His doctrine of the soul of man was that it is a ray from the great fire that is in every phe-nomenon and throughout all nature. He did not approach the idea of a soul as we conceive it to-day,—it was not spiritual at all; in fact some of his writings seem so near later materialistic theories, that Cousin calls them, "Materialism in its infancy." Fatalism is very evident in Heraclitus ; movement is the essential. In Heraclitus as in almost all the better Greek writers, we can easily trace the strong national feeling. Political considerations enter frequently. Note the maxim : "A people ought to fight for their laws as for their walls." With such a system and viewing the conditions of his native country at that time, one is not surprised at his deprecatory esti-mation of humanity which finds expression in this : "The very birth of a man is a calamity—a birth unto death." THE NOBLE HERO. S. W. AHALT, '02. ABOUT two miles south-west of Keedysville, and a mile and a half from Sharpsburg there is a beautiful little cottage sur-rounded by a magnificent grove. In front of the house there is a small porch which is covered with ivy. Directly in front of the porch is a fountain, around which there is a gravel drive. For many years this place was owned by an old man named Hastings. He was a very rich old fellow, yet he spent his yearly income on his only daughter, Naomi. Naomi was a beautiful, fair-cheeked girl with golden hair and dark blue eyes. She was very fond of 122 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. fine clothes (as most girls are), and her father tried his utmost to please her in every way possible. Mr. Hastings gave many re-ceptions and dances for his daughter and her numerous friends. At these balls Naomi was looked upon more as a queen than an ordinary girl. Unlike most girls of her age, she did not have any particular gentleman friend, but she was of the opinion that all men are born equal and she treated them as such. One day a young man named Roberts, from N. Y., who was stopping at the Ross hotel in Sharpsburg, called to see Mr. Hastings. It being near the middle of the day, he was asked to stay and take dinner with them, which he did willingly. Mr. Hastings was very much pleased with the appearance and the manners of the gentleman, so he invited him to attend a dance to be given the following evening. Mr. Roberts thanked him very kindly for the invitation and promised him to be present. In the evening, Mr. Roberts was among the first to drive up to the house. He, being a stranger to all the guests, asked for Mr. Hastings, who introduced him to all present. It was a very short time until Roberts became acquainted with all. He was quite a graceful dancer, and of course all the girls were very anxious to dance with the fine-looking stranger. All the time he was dancing you could see that he kept his eye on Naomi and would give her a pleasant smile whenever a chance was given. He had asked her several times to be his partner, but it seemed that she always had an engagement. The dance continued far into the night and it was now time for the friends to say, "Au Re-voir." Roberts was slow in taking his departure, as he desired to speak a few words with Naomi before leaving. One by one the carriages passed through the gate of the yard, until but one re-mained. Naomi and Roberts stepped out on the porch and as soon as Naomi heard the trickling of the water from the fountain the thought struck her that she must have a drink, and in a few moments the two stood beside the beautiful fountain drinking the water from a silver cup. The moon shone brightly and the stars twinkled like diamonds in the azure sky. A few snow-white clouds were floating in the heavens, and a slight breeze, made fra-grant by the rose-buds and peach-blossoms, was moving the leaves of the trees. They watched the little fish swim in the moonlight, and talked about the enjoyable evening they had spent, and Roberts told her THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 123 how anxious he had been to dance with her. Roberts now took his departure, but not until Naomi had invited him to call again to see her. After this his visits were very numerous, and at last they became engaged to be married. About this time the famous battle of Antietam was fought and on the 16th of July, '62, Roberts decided to go into the battle and fight for his country. He spent that evening at Hastings', and Naomi tried every way possible to induce him to stay out of the battle, but he was determined to help his struggling country and he did so. When he departed that night Naomi left these words with him: "Farewell! The sun no longer shines, The skies no more are blue Above this lonely life of mine ; The sunlight goes with you. But oh, whatever lot I see Thro' sunshine or thro' rain, My L,ove, I will be true to thee Until we meet again." Yes, the battle was fought and the victory won. The noble hero had done his part, although it cost his life. Naomi watched both day and night for her lover's return, but alas ! she watched in vain. He was among the many hundreds of soldiers who were lying dead upon the battlefield, covered with blood and dust. There was a letter in his pocket from Naomi, which was the only thing that kept him from being buried among the unknown. A few days afterwards, Naomi was walking past the graves of the soldiers and she saw her lover's name (A.M. Roberts) in her own hand-writing tacked upon a slab at the head of a grave. She burst into tears, but consoled herself by thanking God that she knew where he was buried. For many years Naomi kept flowers upon the hero's grave, and you can now see his name upon the headstone on the western slope of the National Cemetery at Sharpsburg. I24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. WOMEN AS TEACHERS. GERTRUDE FREY, '00. HPHE higher education of women is a problem which has been * agitated for many years. Formerly woman's subjection to man was very nearly complete in all respects, whether considered from a social, a political or an intellectual point of view. But from being the property of man, she emerged, under civilization, from the sphere of drudgery to that of social power, and conse-quently to the liberty of cultivating her mental faculties. Some people profess to believe that the development of woman's mind is undesirable, because there is a tendency toward what is called "strong-minded" women. But the higher education, rightly pursued, does not make women cold, hard and semi-mas-culine, as many claim it does. Indeed, the more a woman knows of life, the better she understands the past and present of the world, and the experiences and conclusions of its greatest thinkers, the less likely she will be to confuse the masculine and feminine ideals, or to underrate the latter in comparison with the former. Experience has proved to us that women are capable of just as high intellectual development as men ; and many have taken ad-vantage of the opportunity given for the higher education, whether they expect to enter a profession or not. A study of the census statistics leads to the broad statement that there are but few lines of remunerative employment not now open to woman. She is found in nearly all departments of pro-fessional life—ministry, medicine, literature, art, music, the drama, education and science. Of the 128 occupations classified in the census of 1890, only one—military pursuits—had no femi-nine representative. There are some professions which I think are not desirable for women to enter. Generally when the college woman thinks of doing something as a means of livelihood, she thinks of teaching. There have been many objections made to this, because it cannot be assumed that 50 per cent, of all college women have special gifts in the same direction. Experience shows that the special gift for teaching is as rare as other talents, and as valuable when it finds its true expression. Kate Claghorn writes that the evil results to the teacher her-self of this overcrowding of her profession are many. First, ' 'she THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 125 must accept a low rate of pay for her work ; next, she must be content with an inferior position; furthermore, she must lengthen her period of preparation, not always with advantage to the work that she wants to do." She also says, that the remedy for this is plain : That women who graduate from college with the inten-tion of earning a living, should look about for other occupations than that of teaching. " With lowered competition, not only would salaries be raised, but quality of service also." While it is admitted that there are many teachers who perhaps would do better work in other professions, yet it cannot be denied that teaching is one of the best and most suited professions for women. There are many more female teachers than male, yet there are many discriminations made against them. There is no longer a discrimination of position, because women hold just as high posi-tions as men. Women are holding the positions of State, City and County Superintendents. These are principally in the West. But there is a discrimination in salaries, except in the higher positions, where they are the same for all. Let me give a few of Mr. Wright's reasons why women receive less than men. First, "stepping out of industrial subjection, woman comes into the in-dustrial system as an entirely new economic factor. Secondly, woman occupies a lower standard, both in physical features and in mental demands. Thirdly, she receives low wages through an insufficient equipment for life's work, which is not the result of incapacity or lack of skill, but is due largely to the hope that the permanence of work will be interrupted by matrimony." This is in some cases true, and it has a tendency to lower the wages, so that those who do intend to make it a life-work, and do it because they feel that they can do better along this line, cannot receive the salary that they should have. There are many other reasons given why women are paid less than men; but it seems to me that there should be no discrimina-tion made in the payment of salaries if the work is equally well done. Agues Wright says : " The growing importance of woman's labor, her general equipment through technical education, her more positive dedication to the life-work she chooses—all these combined will place her on an equality with man. As she ap-proaches this equality her remuneration will be increased and her economic importance acknowledged." 126 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. While I am in favor of the higher education of woman which places her on an equal basis with man, I think she should net be given the right of suffrage. This would not elevate her. It would take her out of her proper sphere, and tend to destroy all the characteristic traits which are especially desirable in a true womanly character. SPRING. C. R. SHDLTZ, '03. As I hear the bluebird's song And the robin's sweet refrain, I know that Spring- has come again, With pleasures for weak and strong. O, the beautiful days of Spring, Of all the days the best! When Nature, renewed by rest, Again the flowers doth bring. The Earth has been quickened by rain, And hath donned her cloak of green; And leafless trees, by a hand unseen, Have been brought to life again. Hail, then, thou glorious Spring ! For we greet thee with good cheer; Hail, blessed season of the year! Thy praise we do gladly sing. _-L .'THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Voi,. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1900. No. 4 Editor-in- Chief, S. A. VAN ORMEH, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HETRICK, W. A. KOHLSE. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. P. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, "WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Boards PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending1 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. EDITORS' DESK. ^~\N Saturday evening, May 12th, the Y. M. C. A. entertain- ^-"^ ment course was completed with a lecture on Literature as a Personal Resource, by Hamilton Wright Mabil, editor of The Outlook. None but words of appreciation were heard from those who are interested along the line of Mr. Mabil's lecture. The lecture was delivered in a conversational rather than in an oratorical manner. His smooth flow of plain language, to-gether with his great breadth and unusual discrimination, are the characteristics that captivate his audiences. He gave us the best thoughts that have accumulated from his broad experience in the field of literature. Mr. Mabil seems to have felt the pulsations of the hearts of the masters, and received their vitalizing in-fluences. ! 128 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURlt \V7E gratefully acknowledge the receipt of Commencement pro- ** grams and invitations from State College and Dickinson. J> 'THE cause advocated by the following letter merits recognition *■ in THE MERCURY, hence we publish it in full, hoping that by so doing we may lend some assistance to a worthy cause. The tireless efforts of President Passmore will, we hope, be rewarded in this meeting. ■To TEACHERS, DIRECTORS AND FRIENDS OF EDUCATION IN PENNSYL-VANIA : I desire to call your special attention to the next meeting of the Pennsylvania State Teachers' Association, which will be held this year in the city of Williamsport, Pa., July 3rd to 6th, inclusive. Every enrolled member of this Association will receive a copy of the addresses and other proceeding's, not only of the State Teachers' Association, but of the City, Borough and Township Superintendents' Association, and also of the State School Directors' Convention, thus getting1 the very best thought along these different lines in the State. I appeal to the friends of education in Pennsylvania to enroll in large numbers. There are over 26,000 teachers in the State in the pub-lic schools alone, and the number of superintendents, teachers, direc-tors and other friends of education enrolled should not be less than 10,000. The trip to Williamsport is a pleasant one. It is an ideal place to meet—fine hotels, its citizens noted for their hospitality, elegant drives; and the excursion to Eaglesmere will be a great attraction. The pro-gram is excellent. Turn out in large numbers, and show your interest in the great educational Association of your State. If you find it utterly impossible to attend the meeting, send your enrollment fee of $1.00 to Prof. David S. Keck, Treasurer, Kutztown, Pa., who will promptly send you a certificate of membership. Let me not plead in vain for our dear old Commonwealth to make this meeting a record-breaker. JOHN A. M. PASSMORE, President. A S this is the last issue of THE MERCURY this college year, it ■**■ seems in place to express our appreciation of the courtesies of the Student body and Alumni who have so generously fur-nished us the material with which to fill our pages. The primary object of the journal is to encourage writing on the part of the students, both in prose and verse; and it seems to be accomplish-ing this end. Not all the articles that appear are of the first or-der, nor can this be expected; for, if only the best were accepted, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 129 we should want for material, and again that needed stimulus would not be furnished to the students in general—which is THE MERCURY'S mission. The present number—and such is the case with most issues—contains articles above the average, articles worthy of study. \V7E are glad to acknowledge the receipt of the May numbers " of The Washington Jefferso7iian and The Western JJyiiver-sity Courant, two journals that have not been reaching us. OTSEGO LAKE. WM. M. ROBENOLT, '02. f~\F the many little sheets of water found in the mountainous ^-' districts of central and eastern New York there is none which surpasses Lake Otsego either in the beauty and variety of its surrounding scenery or in the number and interest of the historical events connected therewith. "Peerless among- these mountain gems, Unmatched 'mong nature's diadems, Is Lake Otsego, 'Glimmerglass,' Whose grandeur rare naught can surpass." This body of water, forming a basin ten miles in length and one in width, is located on the hills forming the watershed between the Mohawk and Susquehanna rivers, its elevation above the sea level being about 1,300 feet. At its outlet is where the Susque-hanna enters upon its long and winding and troubled course toward the ocean. It lies within the territory formerly occupied by the Mohawks, and this region was their favorite fishing and hunting ground. Along its western bank was the trail of these Indians in their journeys toward the south. From this region, undoubtedly, furs and skins were sent to Ft. Orange to be bartered with the early Dutch traders, for the hills abounded in fur-bearing animals of different species. This lake furnished a means for Gen. James Clinton, after making his expedition up the Hudson and the Mohawk, to convey his army southward to meet Gen. Sullivan who was to yAn him from the south and then march into the country of the Cayugas and Senecas. On the first of July, after carrying his boats over-land from the Mohawk, he embarked at the head of the lake with 130 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. over two hundred boats and began his journey over its placid waters toward the Susquebanna—a larger fleet, doubtless, than shall ever again float on these waters. After landingat the outlet they encamped on ground now occupied by the village and waited for orders to move southward. During the stay here of nearly six weeks he and his men amused themselves by hunting the deer on the hills and fishing in the lake. This beautiful sheet of water is the first on which James Fenimore Cooper's eyes fell with a conscious look, and be-ing reared along its shores, it was always a charming spot to him. It has been made famous by his classic pen, for in and about this lake are laid some of the most interesting scenes found in his "Leather Stocking Tales.'' In this vicinity is where Natty spent his time in hunting with the Indians, and now may be seen on the eastern shore near the foot of the lake a fine marble statue of him, standing erect on a small monumental column ; the tall white figure of the old hunter stands gleaming among the higher branches of a grove of young pines, looking over lake and valley. The one who visits this lake to-day does not see the unbroken sylvan surroundings that were here in the days of Clinton and Cooper. When Clinton encamped here there were no permanent dwellings and very few in Cooper's younger days. Now may be seen a village at either end and cottages and beautiful farm houses around its shores. To one who has an eye for the beauties of Nature, the views about this lake are an unceasing source of delight. Hills, inter-spersed with woods and meadows, abounding in springs whose water trickles down their banks finding its way to the basin of the lake, rise from either side, those to the east being for the most part steep and rugged, while those to the west have a more gentle slope. Thousands of visitors seek this spot every summer, and the entire length of its beach is dotted with tents and camping houses. A roadway parallels the whole lake and pleasure seekers often take a drive, making the complete circuit, a distance of twenty-five miles. The village lying at its southern shore is called Cooperstown, from the name of its founder. Here are the summer residences of some of the most prominent people of this country. From the pier at this place one can get a view of nearly the whole lake. To the right of the pier and not far from the outlet THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 131 may be seen the rock which formed the place of meeting for Deer-slayer and Chingachgook, with the limpid waves rippling about as they did at the time of this meeting. It is now known as Otsego or Council Rock. The river for the first few rods, after receiving the water from the lake, flows so smoothly that scarcely a ripple may be seen. Its terraced banks are covered with scenery which may well challenge a rival. It has been termed the "Lover's Lane." To the eastward of the outlet and beyond the village, rising in terraces, is the "Lakewood" cemetery, one of the most beautiful in the country, among whose marble columns, one erected to the memory of Cooper towers above the rest. On its base are sculptured emblems of the author's thought, and on the top, with dog and gun, is Leather Stocking—Fiction's son. The body of Cooper, however, was laid to rest in the village churchyard nearby. At the east from the cemetery one of the slopes rising above the others is known as Mt. Vision. From this height where the whole lake is visible it appears like an opal enclosed in an emerald. To the north of the cemetery, a little distance up the hillside from the beach, is found the Fairy Spring. Chaliced in a solid rock, its waters form a mirror here in the hillside. Every summer many little parties picnic here for a day and many interesting little stories are connected with the consecrated spot. Farther up along the eastern coast and not far from the shore has been erected a tower which commands the view of the lake. The name "Kingfisher Tower" has been given this. A short distance to the north and up on the hillsides, which here are so steep they can scarcely be climbed, may be found a rocky glen, the famous "Leather Stocking Cave." "Sulphur Spring" is the next point of interest, whose waters are valuable for medicinal purposes. A short distance from here two streams side by side glide down the mountain with a narrow ridge between them in the form of a roof, called the "Hog-back." When viewed from the lake the deep ravines which form the bed of these streams appear like a large "W." Farther on the hills take a gentle slope and through them flows a stream which is one of the most beautiful places about the whole lake. Its banks are lined with trees whose images are reflected in the water. It is termed the "Shadow Brook," the northern "Lover's Lane." Nearby lies a promontory whose f 132 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. gentle slopes have been cleared of their forest growth. This viewed at a distance assumes the form of some monster crouching for his prey, and from this resemblance has been called the "Sleeping Ivion." Tradition tells us that in Cooper's day an island lay off the coast of this promontory. (On this island was Hutter's cottage.) It, however, has since been submerged and lies but a few feet below the surface. An interesting story is connected with this and the "Sleeping L,ion." It is said that the lion outstretched his paws, struck the island and caused it to sink beneath the water, and to-day we have the "Sunken Island." This brings us near the head of the lake where the village of Springfield is situated. The points of interest along the western shore are not so numerous, though the views gained from this side are much more beautiful than those gained from the east side. Two points of interest, however, command our attention, Three Mile and Five Mile Points, situated, respectively, three and five miles from the village of Cooperstown. It is scarcely possible to imagine a spot more charming than the one first mentioned. Jutting out into the limpid waters of the lake at the foot of a height, lined with a pebbly beach, covered with trees and a grassy carpet, it seems to possess every charm to render it a favored spot. A limpid spring, remarkable for the coolness and sweetness of its waters, rises from the gravel of the beach at the very root of ancient trees. A wild brawling brook coming down from the hills has torn for itself a rude channel, adding variety to the ground, and often blending the troubled murmur of its waters with the gentle play of the ripple on the beach. The views in every direction are unsurpassed. In the rear, rise hills which seem to touch the sky in the distance. The eye, having wandered over a beautiful expanse of water, sees hills on the opposite side covered with woods and meadows from the strand to their crest. To the northward is the isolated height before mentioned as the "Sleeping Lion." To the southward lies the village of Cooperstown and the valley of the Susquehanna with a background of low mountains in the distance. This was one of the places selected by Cooper for several of his most impressive scenes. On this point the "Mingoes" are encamped when Natty's daring rescues Hist; and here he sends the canoe with the Indian lovers adrift and remains himself a THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 133 prisoner. And here is where Deerslayer was captured by the Indians. Ever since the days of Cooper this spot has been sacred. During the summer several boats make daily trips from one village to the other, stopping at the intermediate points of interest. Who, after enjoying a ride on the Natty Bumpo, can forget the beautiful scenery gained from her deck ? Smaller crafts may be seen floating on the glassy surface for its entire length. This lake will always be held dear in the memory of one who has visited it. All whose paternal homes lie on or near a fine lake shore can readily say with Natty, "My eyes never a-weary looking at it." Irving waters are the very soul of a landscape. There is certainly no other natural object, however fine, whether imposing like a grand mountain or winning like a smiling valley, which carries with it so much of the spirit of companionship through all the successive years of a human life, as a lake, and one of a limited size awakens more of this feeling than a larger body of water. THE TURK IN RELIGION. A. H. MERDINYAN, '01 (KONIA, ASIA MINOR). 'THE Mohammedan world is proud of her children, who have intense loyalty to their religion, and are active for its wel-fare. Although the nation is a prey to the misteaching of the Koran, still feeling it j»o be the best pioneer of truth, they live under its obscure banner and the misery of misleading religion. The Turk is intensely religious in his belief, and endeavors to accomplish all the rites and duties of his religion. He is held within the limits of his false religion, and his freedom of thought and private judgment is crushed, and he cannot find an occasion to develop for better. He has no freedom to accept the other re-ligion, which is far better than his. The Turk in religion is what he is, and remains what he is, because his religion is Moham-medan. There is no leaven in it. Elements of kindness, politeness, hospitality and religious fer-vor are their good qualities ; but they show anger, hatred and bitter cruelty when occasion offers. In the highest attitude of his religious inspiration he often gets too wild, and is not less than a beast. He is a cold-blooded murderer and butcher to carry on the false mission of the Koran, as he believes it to be his reli-gious duty. In his religious inspiration he cries out, "O Eord of 134 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. all creatures ! O Allah ! Destroy the infidels and polytheists, thine enemies, the enemies of the religion ! 0 Allah ! make their children orphans, and defile their abodes, and cause their feet to slip; give them and their families, their households, their women, children, possessions and race and their wealth and lands as booty to the Moslems, O God of all creatures !" The Turks are missionaries as well as Christians. They press steadily forward to convert the world. They labor under a mis-erable delusion and misconception that Mohammedanism is an elect, and paves the way for a purer faith, which leads to the life eternal. The sword of Mohammed and the Koran are the most stubborn enemies of civilization and truth the world has yet known; and every believer in the Koran is in the same propor-tion anxious to bring many under the bloody and shameful banner of his religion. They have the great honor (?) of being the most destructive and cruel nation of the world. To-day the largest religious university in the world belongs to the Mohammedans— " Ayhar," the university in Cairo, where nearly ten thousand young men are preparing themselves for the priesthood, to spread and proclaim the doctrines of Mohammed to the wide world. Al-most every town and city of the country is provided with theo-logical schools, graduating every year scores of young priests for the mission of Mohammed. Iconium, with its sixty thousand population, has thirty-five Mohammedan theological schools. Mohammedanism is an aggressive religion, and is anxious to bring "kafirs" Infidels (as they call the Christians or non-Mo-hammedans) within its pale. We cannot overlook the fact that in late years they have written pages of history with their sword dipped in Armenian blood. Their extreme civil and religious measures were more than an Armenian nation could bear, and the result has been cold-blooded murder throughout the land. The blame is on Christian nations, who, being unconcerned, tol-erated their brothers and sisters to suffer unto the death under the paw of a wild and cruel nation, which every day strives to exter-minate all those who are outside of their religious sphere, as well as on the Moslems. So long as the political power and supremacy rests in the Turk, there can be no real civil and religious liberty in that country. There are 200,000,000 Mohammedans in the world—nearly one-eighth of the human race—who live and die under the stub- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 135 born doctrines and statutes of the Koran; under its sway the radi-cal evils of polygamy and divorce are fully practiced among them. Islams can legally and religiously take as many as four wives, but the number of concubines is not limited. The Turk not only looks upon polygamy as right and proper, but he considers it a religious duty. The practical duties of a Mohammedan are pro-fession of faith, " L,a ilahe illallah Mohammed er-resoul-oallah" (There is no God but one God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God); ablution with prayer; giving alms to the poor; and going to Mecca. Kach faithful believer ought to pray five times a day —at dawn, at noon, in the afternoon at three o'clock, at six o'clock, and in the evening at eight o'clock. Before each prayer ablution, washing of hands, feet, mouth, ears and face is impera-tive. "While doing this certain prayers are offered for the for-giveness of the sins which are committed with these several mem-bers. The form of worship consists of kneeling down, rising, bowing down, kneeling again, and putting face against the floor, and each time whispering certain prayers; then clasping the hands over the face, passing them down and off as if driving the devil away. The mosques are open at all hours during the day. The external part of the mosque is most gorgeous and mag-nificent, but internally it is very plain. The floor is covered with beautiful rugs or carpets. No chairs are in the mosque. Here and there some texts from the Koran are written in large letters. Mosques have no bells. "Magin," with loud voice, yell from the top of minarets, " There is no God but one God, Mohammed is the Apostle of God;" "Come to prayer, come to the temple of life." That is the echo which comes from the hundreds of mina-rets each day five times. Friday is their Sabbath. After ablution each believer enters into the mosque, after taking off his shoes at the vestibule or door, and takes his place beside his fellow-be-lievers. An ultimate reverence and respect prevails during the prayer—no talking, no laughing, no sleeping ; even coughing is checked by each believer, in intense reverence to prayer. In perfect harmony the immense body of believers worship in such a solemn manner as can hardly be seen in any other place of wor-ship. The preacher is at the altar. He is without any special garment. He leads the prayer, and each of his movements or prostrations are observed and imitated by hundreds and thousands of worshipers. After prayer they may hear some exhortations from the Koran on their practical duties of religion, and then they are dismissed. 1 PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C F. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for 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. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing Goods, go to I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON Superintendent. Hummelstooin Broom Stone Company 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. R. 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 16 Kt. Gold Pen, Indium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. No. 1. Chased, long- or short $2 00 No. 1. Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 50 Twist, " " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 50 No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted 5 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them to you. Agood local agent wanted in every school mmmv,-,_.,u. sammmmmmwmwmmmmmmmmmmwwwgg Printingand Binding We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY 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. K SPRINGS, PA. =3 H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queenswcire, 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 tb ree days' fight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Beds, Springs, Mattresses, Etc. Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta- People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. .GO TO. {}otel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON J. A. TAWNEY ». Is ready to furnish Clubs and Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W.F.CODORI, M*£T£&! Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. Davxb Croxel, Dealer in ^tne (groceries cmb notions «-«-4}ork Street. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washing-ton Sts. YOHN BROS. Agents for the Keystone State, Waldo, Washburn, Groupner & Meyer. Highest Grade Mandolins, Guitars, Banjos, Mandollas and Mandocellos. Headquarters for Phonographs, Graphophones and supplies. Trimmings of every description. All sheet music one-half off. Large discounts on Books and studies. 326 Market St., Harrisburg, Pa. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Spalding's OFFICIAL Athletic Goods Officially adopted by the leading Colleges, Schools and Athletic Clubs of the Country. Every requisite tor Baseball, Football, Golf, Tennis, Athlet-ics, Gymnasium. Spalding's Offi- 'cial League Ball is the Official Ball of the Na-tional League and all the lead-ing college asso-ciations Handsome cata-logue of Athletic Sports free to any address. Spalding's Baseball Guide for 1900,10 cts. A. Q. SPALDINQ & BROS. New York Chicago ROWE. YOUR GROCER Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc, Best Coal Oil and Brooms,at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEOE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH St. PHILADELPHIA. PA. SPECIALTIES:- Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through A. N. Bean. To Repair Broken Arti-cles use Major's Cement 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. G. E. SPANGLER, Dealer in Pianos, Organs, Music, Musical Instruments, Strings, Etc. YORK STREET, 1ST SQUARE. GETTYSBURG. 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. Capitol Cit? Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURQ, PA. First-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Night. European Plan. Eunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINGER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES. F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisle 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 alright, 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationary Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. MOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LOING & HOLTZWORTM, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Hotel for First-Class Guides and Teams THE BATTEFIELD A SPECIALTY TTbe JSoIton Market Square "Ibartfeburg, lpa. Large and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Light 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. EGOLP. 807 and 809 North Third Street, MARRISBURG, PA. r PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. (^entFal [lotel, ELIAS FISSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Light and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Fleui-mrng's Ijivery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.50 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled L,inen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONQ, Prop. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. J^ Try My Choice Eine of A t. High-Grade Chocolates 3 L p y. J. V. at 40c per lb. Always fresh at ,\ £ CHAS. H. McCLEARY j £ Carlisle St., Opposite W. M. R. R. j) l. Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A j" Always on Hand. ** JOHN M. MINNIQH, Confectionery, lee, • andIee Creams. Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. HARRq f}. 3EFTON The Leading Berber v>f)op (Successor to C. O. Sefton) Having- thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. GETT*l5§UR(i, PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. 10 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. (\. klltW Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. GETTYSBURG, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adams County.
FEBRUARY, J900 ■ Gettysbur Mercury CONTENTS. Puzzles and their Value in Men-tal Training, 261 How Obtain Equilibrium be-tween Production and Con-sumption, 265 Scene in the Forest, Orlando Soliloquizing, 271 Education more than a Means of Gaining a Livelihood, 272 A Comparative Study in Ruskin, 274 Editorials 278 Economic Results of Gambling, 279 Results of the Art of Healing,. 282 Public Control of Industries 285 The Power of Ignorance; 292 KAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to p o ,,0 CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and . Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town to taaveyourCloth-ing made to order. All workmanship and Trimmings guaranteed. No charge for re-pairs and pressing for one year. Dyeing and Repairing a specialty. Ready-made Clothing the largest stock in town. Up-to-date styles. Bicycle Suits and Breeches Headquarters. 11 Baltimore St., Gettysbarg, Pa. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. ijr* l2r* i£?* Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. Do you :::;:: ever write ? No doubt you do. Bat 1B your spelling alwayx correct ? Do you have to watch out BO as to avoid thouc humiliating "break*" which convict one of "bad English"? Are you sure of vour punctua-tion ? DoeB compogition writing Vonie easy to you?— letter writing? — any kind of writing? Are ynu glib with the different word* of similar meaning ? Are you up on the etiquette, the amen-ities, of polite letter-writing and businesi corre-spondence? Well, with the following up-to-date works BO readily obtainable, no one need be lem than an adept: Hindu fy Noble's New Spelter, 25c. How to Punctuate Correctly, 25c, Bad English Corrected. RQe. Composition Writiny Made Easy. 7.1c, Liies and Opposite* {Synonyms and Anto-nyms). 50c. Hinds » Noble's New Letter Writer. 75c. HINDS & HOBLE, Publishers 4-5-13-14 Cooper Institute H. Y. City Schoolbnohs of all publishers atone store. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, Ice, andIee Cpeankjj-* Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. I .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1900. No. 8 Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILMAN, '00. Assistant Editors. LUTHER A. WEIGLE, '00. S. A. VAN ORMER, '01. Alumni Editor. REV. F. D. GARLAND. Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER. '00. Assistant Business Manager. CLARENCE MOORE, '02. Advisory Board. PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Fifteen Cents. 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. PUZZLES AND THEIR VALUE IN MENTAL TRAINING. [GIES PRIZE ESSAY, FIRST PRIZE.] OF all the powers of the human soul, the imagination is one of the most universal in its application and pleasing in its products, the earliest activity of the infant mind, and the last to cling to old age. Without the exercise of this faculty, the world would be a barren waste of material facts, in which would dwell the human race, passive recipients of objective im-pressions, without the power to revel in the beauties of imaged thought and conception of the Divine. Poetry, philosophy, art, science, invention, religion—all would be lost to mankind. L,ittle wonder, then, that the products of the imagination have ever been present and cultivated among men. The word "puzzle" has been variously defined, and the objects of thought and action to which it may be applied are widely different. But a common ground may be assumed—a puzzle is an invented contrivance, either intellectual or material, mtmllM - 262 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. whose solution requires time and ingenuity. It will be seen that the puzzle is pre-eminently the product ot the inventive imagina-tion and in turn its highest application is in the exercise of that power for its solution. Intellectual puzzles are in many senses the most important and also most ancient, being generally cast in the form of riddles. From the earliest times of history we can find evidence of the existence of puzzles, either as a form of intellectual amusement or didactic discipline. Among the Eastern nations obscure forms of expression were the inevitable associates of their symbolical modes of thought. It is certain that such methods of statement were in use among the Egyptians, while several books of riddles exist in old Arabic and Persian. One of the most well-known of puzzles is the riddle which Samson propounded to the Philistines, and many other examples are found in the Bible. The proverbs of Solomon are at times excellent types of the didactic form of the riddle. The parables of the Savior were skillful methods of teaching important truths veiled under an interesting narrative which drew the attention of the crowd, and would be very accept-able to an Eastern mind. In Greece the riddle was a favorite mode of intellectual enter-tainment at symposia. To the active mind of the Greek nothing was more pleasing than a well-directed turn of expression which would give room for play of the imagination. There is abundant evidence of this among their writers. Some of their poets even did not hesitate to write whole books of riddles, and Kleobulus, one of the seven wise men, was especially noted for his composi-tions along this line. The famous riddle of the Sphinx as told in the Oedipus Tyrannus, is probably the best known puzzle of Greek literature, though the most interesting form was a part of their very religious life and character—the oracles of the inspired priests, on which hung sometimes the fate of nations, even of the world. The raveling of such obscurities of expression was a source of the keenest pleasure to the Greek mind, and, while a product of the imagination, was an efficient agent in bringing it to that perfection shown in attic literature, thought and philosophy. The Roman mind, more earnest and grave, found small pleas-ure in these modes of intellectual activity, and very little is known of their use of puzzles until the later republic and empire, when they were introduced with the passion for everything Greek, and ■■■■HH THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 263 professional riddle-makers soon began to take a prominent part in their entertainments and banquets. During the middle ages puzzles were cultivated more as a pleasant means of entertainment than for any other purpose, and until recently the same idea has clung to them. Many manu-script and printed editions of collections of puzzles, riddles and conundrums are in existence. Much of their content consists of coarse jests, but there are some real gems of wit and valuable aids to a true estimate of mediaeval life. The Reformation put a stop to this merry jesting for a time, but it soon crept into favor again, and during the eighteenth century the most brilliant minds of Europe were engaged in the intellectual pastime. At the present day puzzles are still in great favor with both young and old, and their educational worth is becoming more and more realized. As a mental training the value of the puzzle lies chiefly in its power of cultivating quickness and strength of the constructive imagination. An obscurity of expression or mechanical con-struction may require time to solve its intricacies, but the mind is certainly the better for having mastered it. All the faculties of memory and imagination are brought into play, and side by side comes development of the reasoning power as we attempt to deduce from our problem its elements, or to arrive by induction at the result of certain assumed forces. These are the things which made the riddle so attractive to the Greek, with his quick imagination and active reasoning power. When we solve a dif-ficult puzzle, we in fact repeat the very processes by which as children we began to learn, for then everything was a puzzle; and in doing so we strengthen the faculties of the mind which are most essential, and besides strength impart to them a facility and quickness of action, which is in itself most valuable. The subject-matter of the puzzle may be another source of con-siderable benefit. The didactic riddles of the East have already been mentioned as examples of what may be taught in this way. A truth given an obscure expression which requires mental effort to unravel will be impressed upon the mind when it has been gained. A mechanical construction whose every portion has been carefully studied with a view to its possible part in the function of the whole, will not soon be forgotten. In this fact alone may be grounded a strong argument in favor of the puzzle's part in mental training. 264 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Puzzles are beginning to play a more and more important part in the education of the child. Almost the first book placed in its hands, "Mother Goose," is full of simple riddles. Froebel's kindergarten method, so generally acknowledged now-a-days, em-bodies the puzzle idea to a great extent, developing as it does the powers of observation, invention and reasoning. As the child passes into school, puzzles of graded difficulty are used for several years, and his toys always include a number of puzzles and games, many of which contain subject-matter of educational value. Many firms now publish educational games, whose benefit to the child will be revealed by even a superficial examination. The use of puzzles may be carried too far, however; for they may be made an end in themselves. Men may become so infatu-ated with the delicacy of reasoning and exhilaration of discovery as to lose sight entirely of the practical use of the mind. So did the School-men of the middle ages, who waged long controversies on trivial and absurd questions merely for sake of the argument. Neither should puzzles take the place of more legitimate means of education, for it must be kept in mind that they are for the more developed merely an intellectual pastime which will benefit instead of harm ; and for the child a means of starting its mind upon the path which it must shortly travel with the more able guides of language, art and science. Puzzles seem to be trivial things, and are so in a certain sense. But they present wonderful capabilities to the student of Psy-chology and the teacher of the child's mind. Used within proper bounds, as a means and not an end, they may become, in devel-opment of strength and facility of the imagination and the reas-oning power, and in didactic force, a powerful factor in mental training. —L. A. W., '00. Hold fast to the Bible as the sheet anchor of your liberties; write its precepts in your hearts, and practice them in your lives. —U. S. Grant. A broken reputashun is like a broken vase—it may be mend-ed, but alwuss shows whare the brak waz.—Josh Billings. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 265 MOW OBTAIN EQUILIBRIUM BETWEEN PRODUCTION AND CONSUMPTION. AS a matter of course, the first thing to consider in searching for a remedy for any evil, whether in economics or else-where, is to seek to find the causes of that evil, and to discover a means of removing these causes. Whether the means proposed be beneficial in other respects or advisable upon other grounds we do not need to inquire in this paper. All that is necessary is to find some measure which gives fair promise of bettering matters in this one department of economic life which we have under consideration, namely, of establishing a more stable and more nearly correct relation between the producer and consumer. Briefly and roughly stated, it seems to us that the whole difficulty arises from the fact that the producer is not able to foretell how much of a demand there will be for his goods and incidental to this, how many of those who create the demand will be able to pay within a reasonable time, provided he is willing to sell on credit. As to the second point, demand un-doubtedly is defined to be how much certain persons are ready to take at a certain price. But we must remember that an enormous part of economic operations are conducted on a credit basis and we cannot overlook this as it exercises such a potent influence in increasing or lowering the demand or supply at any time. For if a man believes the credit of his purchasers is good, he will be willing to sell a greater quantity of goods on credit and at a lower price than if he is doubtful as to their credit, and so we might illustrate further. This second point then is incidental to the first, but it is so important in the view we take of the matter that we mention it at once in connection with what we regard the leading difficulty, namely, the producer's ignorance of the con-sumer's future demand for his goods. For he must anticipate the future. It is possible in so few industries to carry on production by filling orders already filed, that we may almost neglect them. And where there are such, the difficulties which we find elsewhere between producer and consumer do not exist, since they work on a solid basis with regard to the future, and are not compelled to base their output upon a supposed state of the market. In other words, they know 266 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. what the market will be and this is the element which is ordinar-ily lacking and which is the cause, as we believe, of the mis-understandings. Now it becomes important to try to answer the question "Why are these producers in ignorance of the future demand for their goods ?" Necessarily an important factor, in all economic life, is the large mass of natural products which are so dependent on the forces of nature, and as it is impossible to control the workings of these to any appreciable extent, the period between the planting for the future and the realization of it, between "seedtime and harvest," must always be one of doubt. It is apparently impossible to control the amount of production in this sphere, and, so far as this operates as an agent in causing misunderstandings between the producer and consumer, we do not attempt to suggest a remedy. As long as it is impossible for a man to know that he can meet a certain demand, even though he is sure that demand will exist, and that impossibility depends on the fact that the agents which cause the uncertainty are beyond human control, the cure seems also to be without the bounds of human power. From this class of cases where there is an impossibility for the producer to tell what supply he can put upon the market, we pass, by almost imperceptible gradations, to cases where the producer needs only know the demand and he can meet it with an ample supply. No doubt there are natural products which lie on the line between these extremes, as, for example, the output of mines which can be regulated to a fair extent, and there are products, not strictly natural, which are very uncertain as to the possible supply, but as a rule the further removed the product is from the soil, the more completely is the extent of its production within the control of man. It is to this class of products that we wish to direct particular attention. Assuming then that the demand could be met if it could be known, we come again to the question "Why cannot the demand be known ?" The producer can find from his table ofstatistics how many producers there are in the same business with him, how large an amount of their products has been sold during the year previous to that one, and the year previous and soon back, and then, by dividing his capital into the total capital invested in the business, he can find how much of that output should belong --. Sira :-:.'; . THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 267 to him. A simple problem, no doubt, but with no correctness in its application, and why not ? Simply because no one of his fellow producers, nor himself either, will be satisfied with the amount as he would thus work it out, but partly through natural aggressive-ness, partly though a desire to protect himself against aggressive-ness on the part of his competitors, he will seek to produce and to sell a little more than his share. He will devise new means by which he can bring his goods a little more in favor with the pub-lic than his rivals. He will reduce his prices, allowing himself a narrower margin of profits, hoping to make himself even by larger sales. No doubt in this way he will sell more goods than his slower going neighbor and will get some of the trade which would otherwise have gone to him. His neighbor's trade falls off and he finds that he provided for more trade than he is getting and is burdened with an unsalable stock. This is so much idle capi-tal and makes him so much less able to carry on a successful business. This single illustration, on a small scale, though it is, shows the inherent tendency of competition to make uncertain what share of a given demand will fall to a producer's lot. The same amount of goods may be sold, as he had anticipated, but he has not sold his share, for some one has succeeded in selling it ahead of him. We believe, therefore, that competition is the main reason. why the producer cannot foretell what the demand for his goods will be, and as it is this inability to foretell which leads to the mis-understandings between producer and consumer, the natural conclusion is that we should remove competition. We wish to make mention again that we do not argue that this is necessarily a beneficial or advisable means generally. ■ All we are concerned with is the question whether it will tend to remove the misunderstandings we have been speaking of. Of course it is not far to seek a means of accomplishing this. The means have been thrust upon us rather generously during the past few years. The tendency toward industrial combination, seeming to be the logical outgrowth of competition, appears, like Zeus, to threaten the reign of its progenitor. No doubt, it ap-pears startling to those economists who have been accustomed to regard competition with a kind of solemn awe, as containing a remedy for "all the heartaches and the thousand natural shocks 268 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. that flesh is heir to ;" but perhaps its partial disappearance may be attended by some results not altogether detrimental. The trust can estimate the demand which it will be called upon to meet. The total demand for a given article during any given period, does not vary through so large a range as to render this estimate one of great uncertainty. No doubt seasons of unusual depression or excitement may render calculations imperfect, but, all in all, the total output which the consumer stands ready to dispose of, is a matter of far higher certainty than the numerous possibilities existing when the producers are multiplied. By the immense amount of capital invested, the trust is better able to adapt itself to an unusual season of excitement or depres-sion. For example, the American Sugar Refining Company a few years ago built a new refinery furnished with the newest techni-cal improvements, to serve only as a safeguard in the case of a suddenly increased demand, or of stoppage in other factories. President Hadley in an article on Trusts, says, " A consoli-dated company has advantages in its power of adapting the amount of production to the needs of consumption. Where several con-cerns with large plants are competing and no one knows exactly what the others are doing, we are apt to have an alternation between years of over-production and years of scarcity, an alter-nation no less unfortunate for the public than for the parties im-mediatety concerned. A wisely managed combination can do much to avoid this. By making its production more even, it can give a constant supply of goods to the consumers and a constant opportunity of work to the laborers; and the resulting steadiness of prices is so great an advantage to all concerned that the public can well afford to pay a very considerable profit to those whose organizing power has rendered such useful service. Morever, the consolidation of all competing concerns avoids many unnecessary expenses of distribution. Under the old sys-tem, these expenses are very great. The multiplication of selling agencies involves much waste. Competitive advertisement is often an unnecessary and unprofitable use of money. Delivery of goods from independent producers, whether by wagon or by rail-road, often costs more than the better organized shipmeuts of a single large concern. All of these evils can be avoided by con-solidation." The same writer compares the trusts with an army, and the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 269 comparison is apt for more purposes than one. The effectiveness with which a thoroughly organized and wealthy trust can meet an unexpected crisis, as compared with a large number of disorgan-ized and quarrelsome companies or individuals,is well paralleled by the difference between the manner in which a thoroughly equipped and organized army will overcome a sudden and severe attack, where a host of stragglers would have been cut to pieces. The very organization constitutes an element of tremendous strength. It must be concluded, we think, then, that trusts, would, or rather do furnish a means by which the future demand for the goods of the producer may be rendered more certain and hence they tend to remove the misunderstandings between the producer and the consumer. And now, how would such a remedy apply when we consider the matter of selling on credit. The man who sells, necessarily is not satisfied merely because he can tell how many goods his cus-tomer will buy. He wants to know how many he can and will pay for. Here in addition to the fact that their superior mastery of all the details of their business renders them more capable of judging of the credit of their purchasers, we seem to find another and very important fact. When competition exists, the producer is all the time seeking to hold out more inducement than his com-petitor. One of the common forms these inducements take is a sale on credit, and then competition arises as to extending the time of credit. Now, when the backbone of competition is broken, the trust no longer needs to use such means to secure purchasers. It stands in a position to dictate, to a great degree, its own terms, and can provide much more fully against dangerous credit than can be done where competition has full play. It is worth while, too, to mention the indirect effects flowing from those above mentioned. As the future is more closely anti-cipated, and as the sales made are more fully realized on than formerly, the financial embarrassments of various producers, under the old regime become a gradually disappearing quantity in the disturbing influences on trade. Of course the increased danger from the possibility of the trust must be omitted, but we believe it is overbalanced by the failures due to competition. When we entered upon the analysis of the causes which ren-dered demand uncertain, we supposed for the time being that the 'JO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. demand, if known, could be met. We now return to that point to inquire briefly how the trust would effect that side of the ques-tion, though we have already incidentally touched upon it. Necessarily, one thing which renders uncertain the ability of the producer to meet a given demand is the possibility of dissatis-faction among his employees, leading to a strike. The same argument applies here as applies to selling on credit. The employee is, to a certain extent, able to make more at the kind of work he is engaged in than at any other, for the simple reason that he knows more about it. Now when there are a number of producers in the same business he knows, if he leaves one, he can probably find work with another, while, where there is but one employer, he loses this advantage. But writers on Trusts and Industrial Combinations in the United States agree that the information given by the working-men, themselves, seems to prove that generally a reduction of hours for labor, seldom a reduction of wages and occasionally, an increase, have taken place, especially where the workingmen were well organized themselves. "It is pretty clear that the laborers in centralized undertakings have not been worse off than in decentralized ones." So that it appears that there is less likeli-hood of a strike under such organization than under the decen-tralized form, so that less opposition to the free course of produc-tion would be met with here. And again the indirect results would be beneficial. For, as the demand becomes more certain, and there is less waste from imperfect attempts to meet it, more and more the production of the trust becomes near to a uniform standard and thus tends to give the workmen steady employment at regular wages, which is a strong barrier against a strike on their part. From the direct and indirect results, therefore, of the consoli-dated form of production, we are led to believe that it presents a means of establishing a far better understanding between the pro-ducer and consumer. That in some minor details the result might be otherwise we do not deny, but looking at it in its broad out-lines and confining our attention carefully to theparticularsubject we have under discussion, we conclude that trusts furnish a method for removing much of the friction between the producer and the consumer. 'oo. ItttfSM&B&iSaSB THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 271 SCENE IN THE FOREST, ORLANDO SOLILOQUIZING. IS it so that in this guise she sought me? My heart is sick within me. I'll take me back to a wilder region in the forest and there the remainder of my days I'll spend in mourn-ing for my lost love. Aye, virtue is modesty and modesty is a virtue and in that is she lacking. Seek her ? Speak with her ? But strike me dead if I may speak one word with her, I'll write it, fold it, give it to her and fly. 'Twill be a testimony of my love that was, that is no more. She merits now nothing but my scorn. If I had wit, I'd make her blush for very shame, if shame there be in her. But my last breath is drawn. Oh how I loved her to distraction ! I ought to go, but how to move? What is this feeling within me that holds me back ? Is it because the road is long and I am tired. No, 'tis an accursed lingering of that love that once so filled me that I knew naught else. Will it never be in my power to shake it off? 'Twassent from Heaven and not from earth; 'twas given by God and not by man. And yet I'll rid me of it. Can one so unworthy hold my affections thus ? I have a dim vague unrest, can it be removed ? I hear a rustle in the autumn leaves. Ay, here she comes, do I love her yet ? I know not how strong my passion is. I faint from fear. I see her so plain, yet must seem to see her not. She speaks— Enter Ros. and Alia. Ros. (Dressed as a woman.) I am much distressed and faint for succor, must I fall with my true love standing near me and aiding me not ? Alia. Perhaps he sees us not. Shall I go touch him on the arm ? Ros. Yes, ask him if he loves me still. Tell him if when I need it his love fails me it is not love. ' Alia. (Goes up and touches him.) Rosalind has come to seek her lover. Do you not. see her ? She is in need of your aid ? What ails you ? Your eyes look wild and you seem to know me not. Orl. If any of pity exists in your heart for me leave me alone. Alas, I know not what I say; I want you to leave me and yet I fain would have you stay. Ros. (Coming up.) Pray pardon me for calling you my lover, you received it with such melancholy dignity, methinks 272 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. you do not half appreciate the honor placed upon you. Can I relieve you of the burden of the title? But why do you look at me thus ? Have I done aught against you ? Orl. I show no bravery by standing before you thus. I would that I could die before your very eyes to let you know what havoc you have wrought. But I leave you now this very minute to go far into the forest, perchance to take of my abode with a shepherd and thus spend my remaining days. I leave yet I stay. I cannot stir an inch, (aside.) Sweet Rosalind, has turned my head, Howl love her! Despite her faults, despite her lack of modesty.' Why came you to me thus? Tell me wished you again with your wiles to torment my morbid feelings. Ah, Rosalind, I still shall call you mine. Ros. Orlando, why did you think so ill of me ? Could you not see in my glowing eyes the story of my love. I would rather have had you woo me but bashful man makes maidens bold and love will find a way. We were parted but I could not abide far from thee. Wherever fate led I followed swayed by love alone. And as the days grow brighter and our hearts grow lighter we shall sing for joy, yes, joy without alloy. EDUCATION MORE THAN A MEANS OP GAINING A LIVELIHOOD. THAT education is a means of gaining a livelihood is a fact that needs no proof. Almost every day we are brought into contact with those who are gaining a comfortable liveli-hood by means of their education. In our day there are many others who are striving to get possession of the same means for no other purpose than that of making a living. It is to be regretted, however, that too many look at education as if it were a mere instrument for easily securing the things which satisfy their physical wants. Through this motive men have lost sight of the real and lasting value of education. I would not say that it is wrong to consider education as a means of gaining a livelihood, but I think that it is a very grievous error to consider education as having no other use or value. Indeed, education without any other purpose than that of a means of gaining a livelihood would be of little value to beings created as we are. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 273 Herbert Spencer in his work on Education says, "In education the question of questions is how to decide among the conflicting claims of subjects and determine the relative values of knowledge. Every one in contending for the worth of any particular order of information, does so by showing its bearing upon some part of life. All effort, either directly or by implication, must appeal to the ultimate test of what use is it?" In other words, the writer affirms that the essential question for us to ponder is "How to live." Not how to live in the mere material sense only, but in the widest sense. The general problem which comprehends every special prob-lem is the right ruling of conduct in all directions, under all circumstances. In what way to treat the body; in what way to treat the mind; in what way to manage our affairs; in what way to bring up a family; in what way to behave as a citizen; in what way to utilize all those sources of happiness which nature supplies—how to use all our faculties to the greatest advantage of ourselves and others—how to live completely! And this being the great thing needful for us to learn, it is, by conse-quence the great aim of education. The leading kinds of activities which constitutes human life are: (1) Those activities which directly minister to self preserva-tion; (2) Those activities which, by securing the necessaries of life, indirectly administer to self preservation; (3) Those activities which are involved in the maintenance of proper social and political relations; (4) Those miscellaneous activities which make up the leisure part of life, devoted to the gratification of tastes and feelings. Is it not education which prepares the individual for direct and indirect self-preservation, for parent-hood, for citizenship, and for the miscellaneous refinements of life? Of course ideal education is complete preparation in all these divisions. Some one has said that education is to the soul what sculpture is to the marble. As the sculpture brings out of the marble the god-like form, the symmetrical proportion, the life-like attitude of the finished and polished statue, so education brings out of man as an animal man, a rational being, making him a complete creature after his kind. To his frame it gives vigor, activity and beauty; to his senses correctness and acuteness; to his intellect, power and truthfulness; to his heart, virtue. r