21 20 5655 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5ad0c6157594fa868eac67fc38cd2c13.pdf 16b8fe613c0d0a1cacbd50bfb7dc9ffa PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico April 1971 �The College Cover: John Locke, by Sir Godfrey Kneller. Inside Front Cover: McDowell Hall, Annapolis. Inside Back Cover: Statue of Virgil, by Benedetto Antelami (?), Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, ca. 1215. The College is a publication for friends of St. John's College and for those who might become friends of the College, if they came to know it. Our aim is to indicate, within the limitations of the magazine form, why, in our opinion, St. John's comes closer than any other college in the nation to being· what a college should be. If ever well-placed beacon lights were needed by American education it is now. By publishing articles about the work of the College, articles reflecting the distinctive life of the mind that is the College, we hope to add a watt or two to the beacon light that is St.John's. Editor: Laurence Berns Managing Editor: Mary P. Felter Alumni Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Assistant: Maurice Trimmer Art Editor: Daniel Sullivan, '71 The College is published by the Development Offices of St. John's College, College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland 21404 (Julius Rosenberg, Director), and Santa Fe, New Mexico (J. Burchenal Ault, Vice President); Member, American Alumni Council. President, St. John's College, Richard D. 'Weigle. Published four times a year in April, July, October, and December. Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. VoL XXIII April 1971. No.1 In the April Issue: e St. John's College Asks John Locke Some Questions, by Robert A. Goldwin ......... 1 Logic and Reason, by Edward Sparrow 11 News on the Campuses 22 Alumni Activities 30 �St. John's College Asks John Locke Some Questions* By ROBERT A. GOLDWIN John Locke has been dead now for 265 years, but his truth goes marching on. And, unfortunately, so does his untruth. This is a matter of deep concern to us, for to the extent that this nation is a Lockean society, our strengths ·and our weaknesses are related to the truth and the untruth ·of the teachings of John Locke-which still go marching on. As many of you know, I attended St. John's College as a student for four years, and that means that I sat through more Friday night lectures without understanding what the lecturer was talking about than most of you have yet had the opportunity to do. When the time came for me to start lecturing here, I resolved that if I accomplished nothing else at least I would do my utmost to be clear. It is not for me to say whether this lecture will be profound or elegant, but I do not hesitate to claim clarity. I tell you this in advance so that you will know this will not be one of those incomprehensible presentations that cannot be grasped no matter what effort the listener makes. Whoever listens will understand. My subject, indirectly, is St. John's College and the liberal arts. My subject, very directly, is the political teaching of John Locke, especially his teaching concerning the state of nature. The connection of the two will be made clear, I promise, before the end. The lecture will culminate in two questions directed to John Locke. But if this lecture is to have the advertised clarity, there is something you must do. You must ask the right question as I tell you about Locke's state of nature. To ask the right question is a key to learning, as this College knows full well. Asking the right question is the foundation of this curriculum. You know, for example, that the simple, one-word question, "Vv'hy?" is often incomparably useful. Asked with good timing, asked about *This was Mr. Gold\vin's first Formal Lecture to St. John's College as Dean; given in Annapolis, October 16, 1969. Copyright © 1970 by Robert A. Goldwin. All rights reserved. an assertion that ought to be challenged but rarely is, the perceptive "Vfhy?" can transform your thinking and lead you into entirely new paths. But "\Vhy?" is not the question I advise you to ask about Locke's state of nature. The question I have in mind is longer-in fact, twice as long. It is the question of relevance. It is a question that should be asked, eventually, about almost everything we study; but it must not be asked too frequently, and it must not be asked too soon; but it should be asked eventually. I have in mind the simple, two-word, earthy, challenging, imperti. nent question, l'So what?" Locke tells us about the state of nature in a book on politics. My advice to you is to be sure to ask him-but he can't answer, so ask his book and ask me and ask yourself-"So what?" Let me show you what I mean. Some interpreters of Locke say that for Locke the state of nature is a state of war, as with Hobbes. Others say that Locke obviously wrote to oppose and refute Hobbes and that according to Locke the state of nature is a state of peace. I say that Locke meant neither-the state of nature is neither a state of peace nor a state of war but a state of a very different kind, not necessarily characterized by peace or war. And what should you say? You should say, "So what?" To say, "So what?" is not the same as to say, "\Vho cares?" "Vlho cares?" is a nonquestion because it ex- presses a .lack of wonder, a lack of concern, a lack of curiosity, a disclination to inquiry. "\Vho cares?" is the false-face of an unquestioning mind. On the other hand, to ask, "So what?" means to ask, "tell me why I should care." That is a request for evidence that the subject is worth your time and thought, not because you are lazy but because you want to spend your thought on those things of the greatest importance to the building of your life and the flourishing of your mind. I am certain that Locke wanted you to ask him probing 1 �The College and impertinent questions. I am certain that he hoped to attract just such questioning readers. In fact, since heas many of the great authors-had a towering ambition to transform the world and thus save it from folly, he thought the future safety and prosperity of mankind depended on his attracting the most able readers, who would be persuaded only by the strongest arguments and the most useful teachings. He wanted readers who would say as they read, "You say the state of nature, Mr. Locke, and I say, So what?" And Locke wrote to instruct such readers and rouse them to action-to lead them to a new understanding of politics and to stir them to build a new and better kind of political society. And I ask you, in the same spirit, to be sure to ask of my teaching, the same disrespectful "So what?", because I, in the spirit of Locke, also hope to guide you and others away from a folly that endangers us all. The folly I hope to warn you of has its origin partly in tbe teachings of John Locke, one of mankind's most influential teachers and greatest subverters. We must try to save ourselves from him-but to do it we must first understand his teaching, and what it has done to us. Locke published the Two Treatises of Government, in 1689, soon after William of Orange and his Mary ascended the throne as the culmination of what is known as the Glorious Revolution of 1688. This is the same King \Villiam in whose name King William's School was founded in Annapolis in 1696. It has long been said that Locke wrote the Treatises to justify the Revolution, which involved deposing a legitimate monarch, a somewhat ticklish matter to justify; as a matter of fact, Locke tells us in his Preface that he is presenting this book "to make good" the title of King \Villiam to the throne and "to justify to the world the people of England" though they did depose their former king. The evidence is clear, however, that Locke wrote most of the book about ten years earlier, and did little more than add a few topical paragraphs and the preface just before publication in 1689. 2 The book was written as one work divided into Book One and. Book Two, but very few readers study the First Treatise now, and in fact the First Treatise is a lengthy, somewhat tiresome analysis of an earlier book, Patriarcha, by a man named Sir Robert Filmer. Filmer is a deservedly little-known author who would be absolutely and completely unknown, I believe, if Locke had not chosen him as an explicit opponent. Filmer's book was, however, in 1680, in England, a bestseller, and he was the darling of the Establishment because he argued the divine right of kings. Locke might have been thinking of publishing his refutation at the time he wrote it, about 1681, but Algernon Sidney beat him to it; he published an attack on Filmer and was hanged for his trouble. Locke, a prudent man, put his manuscript away for another day. In 1683 an Establishment was really an Establishment, and since Locke was thought to be the sort of man who would write something disagreeing with the divine right of kings, and was friendly with men who were known to be enemies of the throne, the king's police were after him. Locke escaped to Holland just before they came to arrest him, and remained there until his enemies were dethroned and his friends put in their places. Even so, he was so cautious that when he did publish in 1689, with his friends occupying the highest seats of power, the book was issued anonymously. All three editions printed while Locke was alive bear no author's name on the title page. Not until his death, in the codicil to his will, did Locke acknowledge that he was, indeed, the author of Two Treatises of Government. Was it, as it seems, a dangerous book? Did it threaten anyone? If so, whom? The Second Treatise begins with a one-page summary of the First Treatise. I will not go into the substance except to say that an argument that had little plausibility as it issued from the pen of Filmer, that all kings rule by right descended from Adam, is mercilessly refuted by Locke. But Locke acknowledges a certain obligation to mankind. If he has destroyed the thesis that all present �April 1971 Thus, in the beginning of the Second Treatise, we are presented with Locke's grand question: What is political power? rulers rely on-divine right-to justify their right to rule, does he not have an obligation to explain how they do have a right to rule others? Filmer had expressed or attempted to express, with reasoned argument, what everyone had agreed was the title of kings to political power. Locke had shown that, when examined, Filmer's arguments do not stand up. But how does anyone come to have political power? Some men rule other men. By. what right? Is "all Government in the World ... the product only of Force and Violence"? Do "Men live together by no other Rules but that of Beasts, where the strongest carries it"? The man who answers yes to these question lays "a Foundation for perpetual Disorder and Mischief, Tumult, Sedition and Rebellion," and Locke would not want to be guilty of those crimes. He acknowledges, therefore, that he "must of necessity find out" another explanation of how government rises, what the origin of political power is, and how we can know "the Persons that have it" (section l ).** Thus, in the beginning of the Second Treatise, we are presented with Locke's grand question: What is political power? That question does not mean, "What is power?" The emphasis is on the word political. Locke wants to distinguish political power from the other kinds of power that men are observed to exercise over others. In the course of the book he discusses the power of husbands over wives, parents over children, and despots over slaves, and he shows that although there are similarities and that sometimes they are mistaken for and spoken of as political power, they differ from political power. He does this by showing what the origin is of political power, \vho has it, for what duration, for \Vhose sake, for what purpose, and on what terms. He begins by defining political power as "a Right" to make laws and enforce them "for the Publick Good" (sec- ** All section references are to the Second Treatise. lion 3). A man may make rules for others and enforce them, but if he doesn't have the right to do so, his power isn't political. Locke begins with his definition of political power. The rest of the book is an explanation of what that definition means. His explanation begins this way. "To understand Political Power right," he says, "we must consider what State all Men are naturally in" -"a State of perfect Freedom" and "also of Equality" (section 4)-a state of nature. The liberty and equality are but two faces of the same thing. Men are born equal: nobody is set over you, authorized by nature to tell you what to do. That is, your equality means you are naturally free from subjection by others. In short, the essential fact of the state of nature-the "State all Men are naturally in"-the essential fact is that there is no natural boss. What Locke means more than anything when he says state of nature is, the absence of some "decisive powe; to appeal to" on earth. "Men Jiving together ... without a common Superior on Earth, with Authority to judge between them, is properly the State of Nature" (section 19). In other words, the state of nature is a nonpolitical condition. Why does Locke think we must first consider men in a nonpolitical state in order to understand what political power is? To this perplexity we must add that the argument not only begins with consideration of man outside of political society, it also ends that way. The final chapter, the longest in the Second Treatise, is on "The Dissolution of Government," and there once again Locke discusses the state of nature. lli'hy does a book on government begin and end with man without government? Let us go back to Locke's earlier phrase: the "State all Men are naturally in." Did you notice the tense' He doesn't say "were"; he says, "are." Throughout the book7 the predominant use of the present tense in discussing the state of nature is quite consistent. Somehow or other we must figure out.how we are in the state of nature if we are 3 �The College • to understand what Locke wants to tell us about political society. Primitive, prepolitical men may have lived in the state of nature, but the state of nature may exist now, too. It does not have to be a primitive condition of mankind. The first example Locke gives of men in the state of nature is of heads of independent states-rulers, princes, presidents (section l4). In relation to one another, they are in the state of nature because there is no "common Superior on Earth with Authority to judge between them." President Nixon and President Pompidou are, according to Locke, in the state of nature in relation to one another, although they both are-you must admit-highly political men. The state of nature need not be primitive or prepolitical. Let me give another example gf the state of nature, this time within political society.i};uppose that you are walking alone down an isolated street in any large American city, at night, and off in the distance you see a figure of a man approaching. It is ominously quiet; you see no one else around; you realize that there are no homes on the street; you recall that a police patrol passed five minutes ago and so you have no hope that they will be back for quite a while-not soon enough for you in case you should need help. Now, then, as the two of you approach, there is no common superior to intervene in case of controversy \vho can intervene in time. For all practical purposes, the two of you are in the state of nature although, in another sense, you are also in civil society. In this state-of-nature situation you obviously have a right to defend yourself if necessary, and even to injure or kill the other if he attacks you. But what if he is bigger? \Vhat if he is male and you are female? \Vhat if he has a knif~i']The man approaching may be as frightened of you as you are beginning to be of him, and he may tum and go in the opposite direction; or you may do the same before he does. But suppose the two of you 4 buck up your courage, and stride on toward each other, and then pass with no incident whatever-was that the state of nature? According to Locke's description of it, emphatically yes. The state of nature is not defined by the presence or absence of violence. It is defined only by the presence or absence of someone with authority to settle controversies that might arise. The way Locke defines the state of nature, it cannot be the opposite of the state of war, although it is very different from the state of war. The state of war, Locke says, occurs when force is used without right, without authority (section 19). For instance, if the stranger on the dark street pulled a knife and threatened you with it to steal your wallet, that would be the state of war, for he would be using force without right. The state in which force is not used without right is a state of peace. The definition of the state of nature has nothing to do with whether force is used. The opposite of the state of nature is not the state of war; it is civil society-a state where men live together with a common superior to judge between them. \A/lwever tells you that according to Locke the state of nature and the state of war are opposites has the matter in a hopeless jumble. Locke's teaching is simply this: if there is no judge, that's the state of nature. If there is a judge, that's the state of civil society. If force is used without right, that's the state of war. If force is not used without right, that's a state of peace. Of course, if you want to know whether the state of nature would b.e peaceful or whether there would be war, just think about that dark street. Is force more likely to be used without right under such circumstanceswhether out of malice or fear or misunderstanding makes little difference-when there are just the two of you and no police around? Common sense and Locke agree that war is more likely to occur in such a situation and likely to end only with the escape, defeat, surrender, or death of one of the parties. Thus, though the state of �April 1971 \Vhat Locke means more than anything when he says state of nature is, the absence of some "decisive power to appeal to" on earth. nature and the state of war are very different, one can safely say that the state of war is very likely to occur m the state of nature. And so Locke tells us that the state of nature is "not to be endured" (section 13). It is "full of fears and continual dangers" (section 123). It is one long, dark, dangerous, unpatrolled city street, and who would not be willing to make some sacrifices to change it for the sake of safety? Men seek to escape the state of nature and put themselves in civil society, to establish a common authority to judge between them. In the state of nature, every man must rely on himself to take care of himself; as Locke puts it, in the state of nature every man must have the executive power of the law of nature in himself. In a state of nature, each of us has certain powers, chiefly two: first, "to do whatsoever he thinks fit for the preservation of himself and others within the permission of the Law of 1'-lature)); second, "to punish the Crimes committed against that Law" (section 128). Every man has a natural power to do what he must to save himself, and a natural power to punish criminals. These two natural powers of every man in the state of nature become the source of political power-Locke says they are "the original of the legislative and executive power of civil society." Now, there is an important difference to be noted about these two fundamental natural powers, \Vhich are crucial in Locke's description of the transformation from the state of nature to ci,·il societv. The second natural power, the power to pt:nish, we SL;rrender entirely to the common superior when we enter civil society. \:Vhen the civil ;:JUthoritY is funcboning. \\'e cannot take the law into our own hJr;ds. But tl!e other natural power, "of doing n·h:-tfS(JC\'Cr he thought- fit for the Preservation of himselr (section 129), cannot be wholly surrendered. Locke says not that "he wholly gives up" that power, but rather thJt he gives it up "so far forth as the presen'ation of himself, and the rest of that Society shall require" (section 129). Thus this remnant of the state of nature survives in civil society. The effort of men to get out of the state of nature and into civil society cannot be completely successful. The fact that we do not give up the right to judge what is good for our own safety stems not from some opinion of Locke's or judgment of what he thinks ought to be; he says that is the way human beings are. The natural power of every man to judge what is necessary for his own preservation is not wholly given up because it cannot be wholly given up. The natural powers of men in the state of nature are transformed into the political powers of civil society. Men contribute their natural powers to make political power, and they do it for a reason-protection. The fundamental purpose is self-preservation. Since the purpose was to remedy the uncertainty and the danger of the state of nature by providing settled laws for the protection of all the members, the exercise of unlimited power is not and cannot be considered political power: Absolute Arbitrary Power, or Governing without settled standing Laws, can neither of them consist with the ends of Society and Government, which lvlen would not quit the freedom of the state of Nature for, and tie themselves up under, were it not to preserve their Lives, Liberties, and Fortunes; and by sbted Rules of Right and Property to secure their Peace and Quiet. It cannot be supposed that they should intend, had they a power so to do, to give to any one, or more. an absolute Arbitrary Power over their Persons and Estates .... This were to put themselves into a worse condition than the state of Nature~ wl1erein they had a Liberty to defend their Right against the Injuries of others, and were upon equal terms of force to ·maintain it. .. (section 137). 5 �The College Locke, starting from the principle of self-preservation as the rock-bottom foundation of civil society, shows again and again that absolute power is no remedy at all for the evils of the state of nature. To be subject to the arbitrary power of an uncontrolled ruler without the right or strength to defend oneself against him is a condition far worse than the state of nature: it cannot be supposed to be that to which men consented freely, for "no rational Creature can be supposed to change his condition with an intention to be worse" (section 131). Therefore, Locke says, absolute monarchy is "no Form of Civil Government at all" (section 90). In short, dictatorial power is not political power. Political society is a human invention and contrivance, but this artificial thing once made has a nature of its own and hence has an applicable natural law. Society is "acting according to its own Nature" when it is "acting for the preservation of the Community" (section 149). "The first and fundamental natural Law ... is the preservation of the Society" (section 134). The first obvious consequence of this natural law of society is that all of the political rights of its members must be consistent with the preservation of the society. No society can concede to any of its members any political right that would lead to its destruction. To do so would threaten the preservation of its members, whose safety depends so much on the protection the society affords them. Now we come to a very great difficulty, and we must be very attentive to make sure that Locke does not put something over on us. Locke says the people are the supreme power even after the government is formed. He also says that the legislative power, .once established, is and remains the supreme power so long as the government continues to exist and function. Now how can there be two supreme powers? If the government is supreme, then we have not retained some natural power or right; we have lost all of the freedom and natural power of the state of nature, and then what is to keep government 6 within limits? On the other hand, if the people are supreme, what authority will the government have in time of crisis? And if the government cannot function with authority, how will it fulfill the purposes for which men established it in the first place? Here is Locke's answer. It is true that the supreme power remains always in the hands of the people, but not, Locke says, "as considered under any Form of Government" (section 149). In short, both the government and the people are said to be supreme, but not at the same time. Under government, the supreme power of the people, which cannot be transferred away, is completely latent and never to be exercised until by some calamity or folly the government might cease to exist. "This Power of the People," Locke tells us, "can never take place till the Government be dissolved" (section 149). As long as government exists, the legislative is the actively supreme power. But the power of the people. does not cease to exist, it only remains latent, and if the government should come to be dissolved, the supreme power will be wielded directly and actively by the people. Men transfer their natural powers to form political society, to live under laws that are humanly enforceable by an authority on earth set up by themselves. Political power originates from the people, from their natural powers, and it has for its purpose, their good: their saf~!j· and well-being. Now, what is the situation, accordmg to Locke, when the government misuses its powers, when the ruler or rulers use their power tyrannically, for then own benefit and not the good of the people? Locke answers by comparing the good prince and the !)•rant. ·First he tells us that at some times the prince must act without the direction of the law: ... the good of the Society requires, that se,-eral things should be left to the cliscretion of him, that has the Executive Power. For the Legislators not being able to foresee, and provide, by Laws, �April 1971 Whoever tells you that according to Locke the state of nature and the state of war are opposites has the matter in a hopeless jumble. • for all, that may be useful to the Cemmunity, the Executor of the Laws, having the power in his hands, has by the common Law of Nature a right to make use of it, for the good of the Society . . . (section 159). The executive may act not only without the sanction of the law, he may also make the laws "give way" to his power where blind adherence to them would be harmful, and he may go so far as to act contrary to the law for public good. "This Power to act according to discretion, for the publick good, without the prescription of the Law and sometimes even against it, is that which is called Prerogative" (section 160). The necessity for the executive's prerogative is obvious, but the danger is no less obvious. The prerogative has always grown most extensively in the reigns of the best princes. The people trust a good and wise prince even while he acts beyond the limits of the law, not fearing for their safety because they see that his purpose is to further their good. But even the best princes are mortal and have successors, and there is no assurance that one of them, claiming the precedent, will not make use of the enlarged prerogative to further his own private interests at the peril of the people's safety. "Upon this is founded that saying, That the Reigns of good Princes have been always most dangerous to the Liberties of their People" (section 166). According to this argument, what characterizes the wisest and best princes is not their obedience to and enforcement of settled law, but their service to the people. The scope of executive discretion is limited only by the proviso that it be used for the public good; a prince "who is mindful of the trust put into his hands, and careful of the good of his People, cannot have too much Prerogative" (section 164). But at this point, it seems to me, we encounter a severe difficulty. Since tyrants have always used "the public good" as their pretext for exceeding constitutional powers, "the good of the people" seems a dangerously vague test of whether the executive prerogative is being properly used. The good prince and the tyrant are alike in that they both act outside the law and even contrary to it; but one acts for the good of the people and the other for his own good. Is there some practical test to tell them apart? And who can be entrusted to make that test? Locke answers that the determination is made "easily" (section 161) and that the judgment lies with the people-"The People shall be Judge" (section 240). A tyrant is not simply one who uses political power outside the law; the best princes do that. A tyrant is one who pursues his own advantage at the expense of the people's safety and well-being, by means of the power they have entrusted to him. He uses their power to further his advantage at their expense. He makes his good separate from theirs; he takes himself out of their community. He puts himself outside their society, into a state of nature with regard to them. If he then uses force against them, it is without authority or right; he thus places himself in a state of war with them. The tyrant, by this argument, wars on the people and thus destroys their government and threatens their society. The power he uses was entrusted to him by the people, but only for other ends; and thus the power he wields is not political power, and he is no longer a political ruler. The people, naturally, defend themselves and their society, and their resistance to him is perfectly consistent with the preservation of society. The one who brings war again, who literally rebels, is the tyrant, and the people who resist him are acting as any men must who are in the state of nature and subjected to the use of force without right. Locke's teaching is addressed primarily to those who hold political power, for they are the ones most likely to fall into rebellion, and, he says, "the properest way to prevent the evil is to shew them the danger and 7 �The College injustice of it, who are under the greatest temptation to run into it" (section 226). But the teaching is also available to the ordinary run of men and Locke also, clearly, has a teaching for them. For those who are ruled rather than rulers, under any form of civil government, Locke has a teaching of alert suspicion. A people who know that they are the source of political power, that theirs is the supreme power (even though latent), and that they shall be judge of when the government has been dissolved by the prince, is more likely than other peoples to insist on limiting political power. As James Madison put it, "It is proper to take alarm at the first experiment on our liberties." What is Locke's teaching to the people? In the state of nature, all men have the natural power to be the judge of what is necessary to their preserVation. The right to judge when your life is in danger cannot be wholly given up to society. In a certain sense it is inalienable;· what power can legislate out of a man the sense of danger and the inclination to save himself? Locke says this right to judge is reserved by all men "by a Law antecedent and paramount to all positive Laws of men." But does this provide an excuse for perpetual disorder? No, Locke says, because "this operates not, till the Inconvenience is so great, that the Majority feel it, and are weary of it, and find a necessity to have it amended" (section 168). Is the government threatening the saf.ety of the people? That is the question of which the people shall be judge. \Ve may consider it an extremely difficult question for even the most highly trained, highly intelligent, and completely impartial judge to answer, but the people, Locke says, answer it "easily." How? Not by reasoning, but by feeling. \Vords and ideas do not influence such matters. Arguments or doctrines have no effect, he says. "Talk ... hinders not men from feeling" (section 94). Natural forces are unaffected by doctrines (sections 224 and 225). \Vhether there will be resistance to the rulers depends on what the people see and feel. \Vhen the great majority 8 of the people feel that their lives are in danger, "how they will be hindered from resisting illegal force, used against them, I cannot tell," Locke says. All governments feel this "Inconvenience" and Locke calls it "the most dangerous state which they can possibly put themselves in" (section 209), but then he adds that it is a state which is very easy to avoid. The prince who understands this matter avoids, as his greatest danger, allowing the people to see and feel a threat from him to their lives, liberties, and estates. He must make his good intention toward them manifest, so manifest that the people see and feel it. If he fails in this, and the people come to suspect him, he may be able for a time to maintain his place by force, but his political power is gone. Locke asks, \Vhen a King has Dethron'd himself, and put himself in a state of War with his People, what shall hinder them from prosecutiRg him who is no King, as they would any other Man, who has put himself into a state of \Var with them (section 239)? The king is no king. The government is dissolved. The prince is a tyrant, a rebel against society, and the people use their power to resist the tyrant, to preserve their society. Thus Locke's argument comes full circle, from the state of nature and back. \~That have we learned? \Ve all are presently in a state of nature except to the extent that civil authority exists and functions for our protection. It works and has force because we have contributed our natural powers to it. \Ve give up the exercise of our own efforts at self-protection on the understanding that civil society will do the job for us. But human nature is such that we cannot give up all of our powers to society. \:Ve are never entirely in civil societv; we are never entirely out of the state of nature. \Vhe~ situations arise such ·as the one· described earlier, the dark cit)' street, we find that the natural powers are �April 1971 "The Reigns of good Princes have been always most dangerous to the Liberties of their People." still there, and we will use them. And if the danger seems to come not from a single stranger there in the dark but from the political authorities, then we will react in the same way. If we feel ourselves vitally threatened, we will act, naturally, to preserve ourselves. A man who does not is a kind of living corpse, a zombie, or-as Locke describes a slave-so completely without the right to own anything that he does not even have the first claim to his own life. Locke sees this something held back, this vital and ineradicable remnant of the state of nature, as the principal clue to understanding what political society is. The inclination of self-preservation is thus, for Locke, the basis of civil society. The double strength ofthe teaching is obvious, and we in this country have long been its beneficiaries: rulers . who are very concerned not to make the people feel threatened;. citizens who are alertly suspicious of every action of their government, watching always to assure themselves that their powers are used for their good. In short, in nations taught by John Locke, limited government is likely to prevail, supported for opposing and complementary reasons by those who govern and those who are governed. What, then, is the weakness of which I spoke? What is the untruth? How can I call Locke one of the great subverters of mankind? Let me respond first by reminding you of another teaching you all know, or, in the case of the Freshmen, soon will know. When Crito tried to persuade Socrates to escape from prison, Socrates persuaded Crito that he must not escape-not even to save his life when the rulers were about to take it-because, he said, he was a child of the Laws, a slave of the Laws, and therefore he must not injure them to save himself. Socrates persuaded Crito-or at least silenced him-by the argument that everything he was he owed to the Laws of Athens. But surely we cannot be persuaded of that, for if ever there W8S a man whose essential being was not O\\'ed to civil society, that man was Socrates. In fact, the death sentence was pronounced because he would not give up everything to Athens. Socrates held back something that his nature would not allow him to surrender to the polis. But compare what Locke says we hold back-lifeand what Socrates holds back-not mere life but the examined life-and we begin to see the character of Locke's subversion. It is a subversion by subtraction, by diminution. For example, it is well known that Locke defined property as "life, liberty, and estate." Many have commented on how this definition expands and elevates the concept of property. But consider, also, how Locke debases and diminishes life and liberty by reducing them to property. Locke impoverished everything he touched; he was a kind of back-wards Midas. \Vhat does he tell us of virtues: of temperance, courage, wisdom, justice? The words hardly occur in his political book. What does he write of morality, ethics, friendship, generosity? He doesn't speak of them in his political book. It is as if to say by his silence that these are not essential to an understanding of the political, that they are not relevant to political power. Let us consider, as especially relevant for us of St. John's College, a liberal arts college under liberal, limited government, what Locke says and fails to say about education in his political book. It would not be accurate to say that he does not mention education, but it is true to say that he doesn't say very much about it. He does speak of it in a chapter entitled "Of Paternal Power," and there his purpose, chiefly, is. to make clear the distinction of paternal power and political power. To accomplish this distinction, he explains just why it is and how it is that parents have a rightful claim to authority over their children. The reason, it turns out, is that children need guidance until they can "shift for themselves." Once they can be presumed to have reached the age of reason, that is, old enough to "shift for themselves," Locke argues that parents cease to have the right 9 �The College to rule their children and even cease to have the power to rule their children, except for those parents who have property, and can control their sons by the prospect of an inheritance. Thus, when· Locke says that parents are "under an obligation to preserve, nourish, and educate the Children," he means that they are under an obligation to teach them to take care of themselves, to preserve themselves. Here again we see Locke's amazing capacity to impoverish everything. He reduces education to its lowest and most basic aspect and connects it with self-preservation. Finally, we must observe that Locke speaks of education, even in this modest form, only in the portions of the book that have to do with the state of nature and the law of natur-e. In the portion of the book that considers political society and government, education is not discussed. In short, education is thought to be of no political consequence; in a book that claims to set forth the origin, extent, and end of civil government, education is not worthy of consideration. Now-need I urge you to ask, So what? In a Lockean society, there is no essential place for liberal education, for education understood as something well beyond learning to "shift for yourself," for education understood as necessary for the examined life rather than mere life. But perhaps I draw too much, too quickly, from Locke's silence. Perhaps it will be more useful and more instructive for us to leave it at a question, from all of us to John Locke: In your society, what place would there be for St. John's College? I said at the outset that "this is a matter of deep concern to us, for to the extent that this nation is a Lockean society, our strengths and our weaknesses are related to the truth and the untruth of the teachings of Locke-which still go marching on." The extent to which this nation is a Lockean society 10 is uncertain and debatable. I know we are not entirely Lockean, for a purely Lockean civil society would not be viable, could not survive its first hostile challenge. But I return to Locke's strange Midas touch. Our greatest danger and our greatest weakness seems now to be a widespread malaise, an uneasiness that great things are lacking in our political scheme of life, that in the midst of our unprecedented affluence we are the victims of a grave impoverishment. My conclusion is that Locke is in great part responsible for both the affluence and the impoverishment. But once again let me retreat from the assertion to another question. To my first question Jet me now add this one, which may be the key to everything: Is it true that a man is in his natural condition when he is without government? Robert A. Goldwin has been Dean of St. John's College in An· napolis since July 1, 1969. Previously he \VaS Associate Professor of Political Science at Kenyon College and the Director of the Public Affairs Conference Center at The University of Chicago and later at Kenyon College, He is Editor of the Rand McNally Public Affairs Series, the latest volume of which is entitled How Democratic Is America? Responses to the New Left Challenge. The editor of three readers in international relations, he is also the author of "John Locke" in History of Political Philosopl1y (Rand McNaUy, 1963). In 1966 he \\'aS named a Guggenheim Foundation Fellow. He was one of the planners and the first Director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education of St. John's College in Santa Fe. Mr. Goldwin graduated from St. John's College in 1950, and received his Ph.D. degree from The University of Chicago. �Logic and Reason* By EDWARD SPARROW Significant of one of the attitudes prevalent in the modern age is the frequent use by intelligent people of the words "logic," "logical," and '1ogically" in a deprecatory sense. Vv e hear often of something being "all very logical" bu ~ for all tha~ opposed to common sense. \Ve hear people say that something or other follows "all very logically" from something else, but is, nonetheless, totally wrong. One sometimes hears the phrases "according to that system of logic," "according to your logic," or "according to the rules of logic which you adopt." And one even hears remarks to the effect that "you can prove anything with logic." Simultaneously with the growth of the use of such modes of expression arises a sort of obsession with the emotional, the paradoxical, the irrational, and interestingly enough, as if the depreciation of the logical were somehow connected with the depreciation of the public, the intimate. Not only is logic thus put into the coffin of the dry, the implacable, and the relentless. It is also, like a public enemy, unceremoniously buried, and on its tombstone is inscribed "the misleading," "the false," the "inhuman." Many do not even bother to look at the tomb, for it has for them become "the irrelevant," that is to say, "the meaningless.)) One thing, however, it is curious to note: the words ''reason," "reasonable," and '~reasonably" have not yet become as thoroughly subject to the same depreciation, although there are signs that such a development is not to be unexpected. Now because the Latin ratio from which we get "reason" translates in part the Greek logos, which is of course the root of "logic," one would expect that the neglect or odium attaching to the one would necessarily attach itself to the other as well. And so the differe~ce.in the esteem in which the two groups of *A lecture given at SL John's College in Annapolis in 1961. words are held makes an interesting subject of speculation. One is led to suspect that what should be a very warm embrace between the science, logic, and its object, reason, may be turning instead into the kiss of death; or that logic, which, in at least one tradition has some relation to life, has in the course of time become estranged from reason, so that it resembles nowadays nothing so much, in the manipulation of its symbols, as the rattling of the dry bones in the valley of destruction. · Now it is not my concern to anatomize logic or to discourse to you about Goedel's theorem and symbolic logic, for my ignorance of these things is only matched by my admiration for those who have mastered them. Nor is it my concern to show that the properly mysterious may be as much above the logical as love may be above justice. But since the neglect or odium which attaches itself to the "logical" in the minds of many has not yet totally polluted their estimation of the "reasonable," I should like to discover whether there may not be more life in the logical than many would grant; to put it another way: I should like to learn whether it may not be a ghost of logic that so many have buried as false, inhuman, and meaningless. To this end, I should like us to begin by examining together and possibly criticizing a certain formulation of the relationship between two quite distinct things, validity and truth. For the understanding of the relation of validity to truth which we shall examine lies very close to the root of those estimates of logic as dry, false, and irrelevant. I should then like to examine what people seem to be doing when they argue and see what the implications of this enterprise mav be. And if it turns out that we can say something significant on these two themes, I should like to combine them into at least a beginning of the understanding of hypothesis. Finally, I hope we can say something about the true and the false and that some relationship may appear between thought and, if I may use the word, reality. 11 �The College I. "Valid" is a term which in logic is predicated of arguments, inferences, and some of the "moods" of the syllogism. And "true" is something which is said of individual premises and conclusions. So there is no opposition between them. But a question does arise about their relationship to one another. Vvhat is the relation between the truth of the premises of an argument and the validity of the argument of which they are premises? Or, more exactly, can there be validity without truth? To . introduce the discussion I am going to read a few selections hom some contemporary writers on logic in order that you may see how the relation of validity to truth is presently understood and in order that the position which we shall examine this evening may be put in front of us in the words of those who maintain it. Augustus de Morgan in his book, Formal Logic, writes as follows: Logic has so far nothing to do with the truth of. the facts, opinions, or presumptions, from which an -inference is derived; but simply takes care that the inference shall certainly be true, if the premises be tme. Thus, when we say that all men will die, and that all men are rational beings, and thence infer that some rational beings will die, the logical truth of this sentence is the same whether it be true or false that men are mortal and rational. This logical truth depends upon the structure of the sentence and not upon the particular matters spoken of. (p. 1) Alonzo Church, in Introduction to Mathematical Logic, says: Traditionally (formal) logic is concerned with the analysis of sentences or of propositions and proof with attention to the form in abstraction from the matter. This disti-nction between form and matter is not easy to make precise immediately, but it may be illustrated by examples. "Brothers have the same surname; Richard and Stanley are brothers; Stanley has surname Thompson; therefore Richard has surname Thompson." The argument, it may be held, is valid from the form alone, independently of the matter, and independently in particular of tlre question whether the premises and the conclusion are in themseh·es right or wrong. The reasoning may be right though the facts be wrong, and it is just in maintaining this distinction that we separate the form from the matter. (p. 1) Our own sophomore logic manual puts it this way: 12 Minor logic is therefore concerned only with the formal validity of reasoning and not at all with its factual (material) truth. All these writers seem to consider logic, or, at best, "formal logic," to be concerned with logical form; and it would appear that a companion, if not a child, of this logical form is something called validity, correctness, logical truth, or, as in the case of Church, right reasoning. And it would further appear that this element, while not exactly opposed to truth, belongs, as it were, to another and possibly higher realm than truth. This would be so because of its close affinity to form, since form is traditionally a much nobler thing than matter; and truth is merely a predicate of logical form combined with logical matter. If, after all, one can show that the "A-A-A" form in the first figure or the "p implies q; p therefore q" form is valid regardless of truth of the major and minor premises, then it becomes possible to have a science of valid and invalid forms. And this knowledge, since it will bear on something necessarily prior to any determination of content, will be of greater import and significance than any knowledge of any particular argument. But before we go on to a more detailed consideration of the relation between truth and validity, I would like to try to justify very informally the remark that the understanding of the relation between the valid and the true which our authors have articulated lies close to the root of those estimates of logic as false and meaningless. If false premises can underlie a valid argument, logic will clearly be concerned with valid forms and lose its concern for truth. It will come to consider the very Jogoi through which we are human as unworthy of its abtention compared to the symbols for wordless x's, p's and q's which it will push around on paper. Formal deductive svstems will flourish, the authors of which, disavowing ~ny concern for truth, will ground their enterprise on valid inferential forms. Great enterprises of the past, whose authors considered the validity of· their reasoning as adding rather than subtracting from the merits of their work, will be reinterpreted as "forrnalh· deduotive systems" as arbitrary _in their starting points as thos-e more recently constructed, essentially tautologous, and unworthy of serious attention except as logical exercises. Lastly, in the eyes of many, a writer will tend to become the more respected the less "logical" he is, for being logical will have become synonvmous with bem; consisknt with a certain set of arbitrarily assumed stdrtm~ points, i.e., with being valid, .and the self-e,·idence o; premises will have become a question for psychology. not logic. \Vhen the form will thus have swallowed the matter, the valid annihilated the true, it will not be sucprising that the searcher for truth will look elsedlet �April 1971 than in argument and reasoning, will canvass the emotional in music and art, will seek it in nove1s, esoteric poetry, · and direct experience, and will ransack the private, the intimate, and the irrational, for that essential kinship to himself which he has given up the hope of finding in the reason. Now let us ask whether the relation between the validity of an argument and the truth of its premises admits of the simple solution offered by the writers mentioned, namely, that validity and truth have nothing to do with one another; that a valid argument may have false premises, and that false premises can yield true conclusions. Let us begin by looking at a very simple argument. Suppose you were to overhear the following conversation: A: B. A: B: A: Of course Socrates deserved to die. Why? He corrupted the youth of Athens. He did not. He was trying to educate them. So what? You might be tempted to join in the argument. But you might also be interested in analyzing it. In that case, you would note the following reasoning: A's argument: (Anyone who corrupted the youth of Athens deserved to die.) Socrates corrupted the youth of Athens. Therefore Socrates deserved to die. B's argument: (No one who tried to educate the youth of Athens corrupted them.) Socrates tried to educate the youth of Athens. (Therefore Socrates did not corrupt them.) A's reply: (Someone who tries to educate another may corrupt him.) It is evident in the first place that A gives the minor premise of his argument, that Socrates corrupted the youth of Athens, as an answer to B's question, 'V\Thy did Socrates deserve to die?" It is also clear that in doing so he intends to give the reason for his conclusion that Socrates deserved death. He thereby indicates his awareness that his bare assertion that Socrates deserved to die cannot, since he is not God, compel the assent of B or of anvone else without a reason. And he also shows his aware~1ess that to refuse or to be unable to give a reason to B, since they are on the same level, would be a sign either of intole;able pride or of pure prejudice. In the second place, it is evident that B recognizes that A's argument must carry the day and determine the question, even though to B's mind, the conclusion is surprising and doubtful, unless it can be shown, and he, B, will undertake to show it, that one of A's premises is false. Else he would not argue with A. Since he accepts A's implied major premise, that anyone who corrupted the Athenian youth deserved death, he must concentrate on proving the minor false. And this he does by trying to prove that the contradictory of it is true. In other words B also recognizes that A's argument will collapse if one of his premises is proved false. And so B sets up his own argument, the implied conclusion of which, resting on his own implied major premise, is that Socrates · did not corrupt the youth. Now B thinks that by having contradicted A's premise, with a reason of his own, he has established the falsity of it and hence has invalidated A's argument. A next, by his remark, "so what" implies that there might have been a "so ... something," that B might have produced an argument which would have invalidated his own. But he also indicates that B has not in fact done so. But why does B's argument fail in A's eyes? Clearly it is not because A disagrees with B's minor premise, that Socrates tried to educate the youth of Athens, for he admits it. What A denies is that together with the implied major, that no one who tries to educate another can corrupt him, produces the implied conclusion, that Socrates did not corrupt the youth. Now why should A think that the argument fails to produce the conclusion? The form of B's argument is perfectly valid; it is E-A-E in the first figure. It can only be that A thinks that the major premise of B's argument is false. By saying "so what?" he is in effect contradicting A's major by impliedly asserting the truth of its contradictory, to wit, that someone who tries to educate another may corrupt him. And obviously if someone who tries to educate another may corrupt him, the fact that Socrates tried to educate the youth of Athens can in no way determine the question whether or not Socrates corrupted the youth. A thus recognizes that B's argument must also collapse if the major premise of B's argument is false. Now the interesting thing about this argument for our present purpose is to note that in the minds of the disputants there is a real relationship between a valid argument and true premises. B recognizes, as does A, that A's argument is no longer valid if one of his premises can be proved false. And A recognizes, as B does, that B's argument also collapses if one of his premises can be proved false. In the minds of both, as, I daresay, in the minds of all of us, when we are not thinking about thinking, there is no possibility of such a thing as a valid argument one of whose premises is false. \Vhat makes A 1 S argument valid for him is his conviction that his premises are true 1 and what makes the same argument invalid for B is his conviction that one of them is false. Validity, in the minds of these disputants, seems to be so intimately related to truth as to be almost the offspring of it. 13 �The College But, someone might say, whatever intimate relationship A and B might assert between the validity of an argument and the truth of its premises is of no consequence as far as the formal logic of the argument is concerned. The logical form of A's argument, A-A-A in the first figure, is valid per se regardless of the truth of the constituent premises. But we must then ask this person what he means by "valid." He would reply, I believe, that a valid argument is one the conclusion of which follows necessarily from the form and relation to one another of the premises regardless of their truth. Such necessity would be called logical necessity and the argument would be called logically true. Very well then, let us agree to call an argument with true premises a good or sound argument and one with the proper form but true or false premises a valid argument. And let us concentrare on distinguishing a valid argument from a sound argument. If the valid is distinguished from the sound by the fact that the premises of a valid argument may be either true or false while those of a sound argument must be true, · the validity of a valid argument obviously accrues to it by virtue of the form in which it is cast. Let us then examine a bare form of a valid argument, say A-A-A in the first figure, one from which anything that could introduce the true and the false has been removed. Now since the matter has been left behind, and truth and falsity accrues to a premise by virtue of form and matter, it would seem to follow that both premises, MaP and SaM, are beyond the true and the false. So let us inquire whether the major premise, MaP is in fact beyond the true and false. A moment's thought will reveal to you that it is not beyond the true and false. For only what admits the true and the false can be contradicted. So that if the form we have under study does not admit the true and the false, it cannot be contradicted, any more than a pencil, an eclipse, or an auditorium can be contradicted. And if it cannot be contradicted, it can have no contradictory. And this is very strange indeed. For if it can have no contradictory, neither can any given universal affirmative major premise have a contradictory. Just as if area is denied to circle as such, it must be denied of any given circle. For if a given premise could have a contradictory, while the form of every one of them all could not have one, the property of having a contradictory would have to accrue to a given one from the particular matter of which it was made up. But the property of having a contradictory accrues to a given one from its combination of quantity and quality and not from the matter which makes it up. And any given universal affirmative does have a contradictory. One is therefore forced to conclude that the MaP form is not beyond the true and the false. \Vell then, if it is not beyond the true and false, how does it have the true and the false in it? It must be either 14 true or false but indeterminately neither. If so, it admits of a contradictory, MoP. Now of two contradictories it is well known that they cannot stand together. If one is true, the other must be false and vice-versa. Suppose MaP now to be false. To make that supposition is to recognize that MaP has turned into MoP, its contradictory, under our very eyes. For there is no motion of the mind involved in going from the assertion of the falsity of one contradictory to the assertion of the truth of the other, To say that MaP is false is to deny MaP, and that very denial is the assertion to MoP. To say that a statement is false is to assert the contradictory of it. To think not MaP is to think MoP. Consequently it may be said that to consider MaP false is to make MoP the major premise. But from MoP and SaM in the first figure (both true), nothing follows. Consequently if MaP is false, the argument is not valid. And the satne thing can be shown for all the other Can there be validity without truth? moods of the first and other figures. Each one requires for its validity that the premises be true. Consequently the distinction which was set up between a sound argument which had true premises and a valid argument which had premises which could be either true or false and hence which derived its validity from the mere form alone turns out to be specious: every argument with true premises will be valid and every valid argument has true premises and will be sound. To illustrate this point with reference, this time, to a specific example, let someone offer an argument in A-A-A in the first figure with a false premise which he asserts to be a valid argument regardless of the falsity it contains. Thus someone may say in order to make this point: "Every duck is a man, and every man is a fowl. Therefore every duck is a fowl." One instinctively and rightly wants to say, "No, that's not true. You're talking gibberish. No duck is a man and no man is a fowl. Therefore the �April 1971 conclusion doesn't follow (two negatives yield nothing)." Let us have the courage to voice our protests to our logician. Then indeed the argument does not prove the conclusion and the example does not exemplify what it was designed to exemplify. But our friend has not given up, for he will say to us, perhaps a bit patronizingly, "Sure, sure, I agree with you about the matter of these premises, but what we're concerned with is the fact that if every duck is a man and every m.an a fowl, then it follows necessarily, logically necessarily, I might add, that everv duck is a fowl. And it doesn't matter whether a duck is in fact a man or a man in fact a fowl in order for the conclusion to be formally necessary. Nor does it matter whether we think of ducks, men, or anything else. The form 'if all x is a y and all y is a z, then all x is a z is eternally valid.' Now then, be a good fellow and suppose that every duck is a man and every man is a fowl. Don't you see that you must affirm that every duck is a fowl?" But we may then reply to this fellow, "Indeed, if it were conceivable that every duck be a man and every man a fowl, every duck would be a fowl. But what are you doing when you say 'If every duck is a man,' and what are you asking me to do when you ask me to 'suppose that every duck is a man?' Have we not agreed that those beings which are rational, featherless, terrestrial, bipeds, of a certain average size, are called 'men', and that those beings which are of another size, irrational, winged, feathered, and aquatic, are called 'ducks'? And are you not therefore supposing by your 'it' and asking me also to suppose, that is, think, that all those things which are rational, featherless, and terrestrial are also irrational, feathered, aquatic, and smaller than themselves? Are you not in short asking me to think the unthinkable? You are, and I cannot do it. Nor can you, in my opinion, in this case. or in any other case where you take premises which you know to be false. The false, qua false is unthinkable and self-contradictory. As for your bare form, I have already showed you that your premises have to be true, and that your x's have to be in fact y's, and the y's in fact z's before the form can be .valid. And that means that your symbolism is impossible and misleading, for the only thing that can distinguish x from y and y from z is that none is either of the other two. But that is illegitimate; for by your 'if' you are asking me to suppose that that to which any name, symbolized by x, has been given, can also be that to which any other name, which you symbolize by y, could be given. And that can't be done. Let x be the scale of C sharp minor, and y the Empire Stare Building. I cannot conceive, nor can you, of that which is called the scale of C sharp minor being that to which the name Empire State Building is given. I can make the noises, if you wish me to, but nothing else. And you would be the first to say that logic is not the study of noises. You must devise a more accurate set of symbols." It is justified, therefore, to say that a valid argument is impossible unless the premises be true and that validity rests on truth. It can further be said that in any pure logical form exhibited symbolically on paper, such as A-A-A, there is a very restricted range of interpretation for various symbols. For any S only a certain amount of M's or P's are possible, namely those that can be conceived as belonging with that S. For those M's and P's which cannot be conceived as belonging with that S result in a false premise, and, as we saw, if the premise is false, the argument collapses. And conversely, for any M or P, only a certain limited range of S's are possible, namely those which can be conceived as being able to admit those P's and M's. It may also be said that since validity rests on truth and Every argument with true premises will be valid and every valid argument has true premises and will be sound. truth on form and matter, that validity rests on matter, i.e., on the conceivability, compatibility and incompatibility of what is thought about much more than it does on form. In fact, what the bare form SaM, MaP, SaP really means is that if you think about anything P as being predicated of something M, and that other thing, M, as being predicated of a third thing, S, then you cannot help thinking of that first thing P being also predicable of S. The validity, in short, of Barbara rests on the thinkability of predications, P of M and M of S, and only where such predications are thinkable will the form be valid. The dictum de omni as a principle of the syllogism should therefore be properly formulated as the cogitum de omni. And consequence, therefore, or the property of reasoning with which logic is primarily concerned, rests on what is thought about. It is hence incorrect to think of every valid argument as homogeneous with every other, such that Barbara, for example, could be the common form of all universal affirmative arguments in the first figure. The truth of one argu- 15 �The College ment is only like the truth of another, so that Barbara only reflects the analogical identity of every valid argument in that form with e\'ef)' other. It thus only reflects the identity of the activities that each mind goes through as it in any given argument moves through the predications which lead to the conclusions. Similarly, the truth of one statement is only like the truth of another, so that SaP only reflects the analogical identity of every true universal affirmative to every other. Truth is not univocaL In the last place we may go a bit further than do most logicians who maintain not only that true premises produce true conclusions but also that false premises can )~eld true conclusions. Since the false cannot yield the true, true conclusions only follow from, if they follow from anything at all, true premises. Furthermore, if as we ha1·e said, the false, qua false, is unthinkable and selfcontradictory, a false premise will also disintegrate as An hypothesis is thus a premise the doubt about whose truth is to be removed by the process called, appropriately, verification. will a false conclusion. And so nothing will follow from a false premise . and a false conclusion will not be a consequence of anything. * * * * * II. Now Jet us return to the example of Socrates and of his disputed deserving of death in order to explore the implications of A's thinking of himself as giving B a reason for his statement. You will recall that when B asked A why Socrates deserved to die, A replied that Socrates had corrupted the youth. In saying that, A thought he was giving a reason for his statement. And in A's argument, you will notice that after the premises the word "therefore" occurs. "Therefore" is the same sort of word as '-'thereat" or "thereafter." It is a compressed prepositional phrase with a demonstrative pronominal object "there" and a postpositive preposition "for." It means, in short, "for this." For what? Clearly "for this reason" is implied. A could just as well have said, "Sacra- 16 tes deserved to die, for he corrupted the youth of Athens." Now a little reflection will Jeveal that Socrates did many other things for which he did not deserve death, and that if anyone other than Socrates were to have corrupted the youth, he too should have met the same fate. Consequently 'Ne may say that although it is the whole predication or minor premise, Socrates corrupted the youth that is the reason why Socrates is worthy of death, it i; "corruption of the youth" that reveals why anyone, including Socrates, is worthy of death. But "corruption of the youth" is the middle tem1 in A's argument. So that the argument, in answering the question whyl gives in the middle term, the reason. It gives, in other words, that through which the predicate of the conclusion, being worthy of death, attaches to the subject of it, Socrates. 1l1e major premise of A's argument sets out the reason with its consequences; corruption of the youth has as its consequences meriting death. The minor shows that the subject is subsumed under the reason; Socrates corrupted the youth. And the conclusion sets out the obvious, that the consequences necessarily attach themselves to the subject; Socrates deserved to die. But there is another interesting thing about argument: A could equally well have said that Socrates deserved to die because he corrupted the youth of Athens. And if one were to ask A what is the cause of Socrates deserving death, A would reply "Socrates's corruption of the youth of Athens." Corruption of the youth thus mav he said to have among its effeCts or results the being worthy of death of the one who corrupts, and Socrates's corruption of the youth is the cause of the effect, Socrates's being worthy of death. Thus it seems that the middle term, which we identified previously with the reason, also in some sense intends the cause, so that reason and cause seem to be identical. And the major term, which we previously identified with the consequences of the reason, also intends the effects, so that consequences and effects also seem to be identical. Now if we examine what we think when we think "cause" one of its salient notes is that it is that through which or by which something is or happens. Of caused things, we say that they don't happen "by themselves," and that must mean that they happen, if they happen bY anything, by something other than themselves. Hence if it be correct to say that the middle term intends the cause, it will not be surprising to find that the middle term is also that by or through which the effects intended by the major term, being worthy of death, inhere in the minor term, Socrates. For the middle term is also a mean or through \Vhich between the minor term and the major term. Thus in A's argument, the major premise gi1·es the cause, corruption of the youth, and the effect. being worthy of death, without any specification of the one �April 1971 in whom these are manifested. The minor premise gives that in which the cause is, Socrates, and the fact that the cause is in it, corrupted the youth, a finite verb agreeing with its subject. And the conclusion through the middle term gives that in which the effect is, Socrates, and the fact that the effect is in it, is worthy of death, again a finite verb agreeing with the subject. In the same physical subject then, one might say, is the person, Socrates, the cause, his corruption of the youth, and the effect, his being worthy of death. And in the same logical subject, is the minor term, Socrates, the middle term corruption of the youth, and major term, being worthy of death. If such is the structure of cause and if it be truly revealed in the structure of argument, one \Vi111ook in vain for causes as s·isible events occuring temporally prior to their effects. One will find them only revealed through the contemporaneous presence of logical middle terms. They will also necessarily be im~sible and accessible only by thinking. And Hume will be quite wrong; the notion of cause will not arise from habit, but from reflection on the structure of reasoning, that is, giving reasons. But, someone might say, you have not got the cause through the middle term at all, because if anything is true of cause, it is that a cause must be sufficient to produce its effects. It is not enough for something to be a cause of something that wherever it is present its imputed effects are present. It is also required that the effects cannot occur without the cause. Logically speaking, the consequences, major term, must be consequences of the middle term and they will not be consequences of the middle term if they can exist without it. But in your example, being worthy of death cannot be an effect or consequence of corrupting the youth, since others are also worthy of death who have not corrupted the youth. So having corrupted the youth is not the cause of deserving death. And this is revealed in your not being able to convert your major premise completely, into ''everyone who is worthy of death has corrupted the youth." Therefore the middle terrn does not intend the cause. The point is well taken. But to meet it, we need only search for such a middle term as, in combination with the predicate, being worthy of death, will result in an universal affirmative fully convertible major premise. For full convertibility of such a premise will be the logical equivalent of the full commensurability of cause and effect. To say what such a middle term is is difficult, and if none can be found, those who advocate the abolishing of the death penalty "·ill ha\"e made their point. But let the following be suggested: the commission of such an act by a normally intelligent person as by its nature leads to the destruction of those things ·which men should seek to preserve by their living together among their fellows. Such a term might be fully convertible with being worthy of death, and if it were, any one who had committed such an act would be worthy of death and anyone who was worthy of death would have committed such an act. If the above analysis is right, it should be possible to convert the universal affirmative fully convertible major premise so as to make the consequent-effect now its subject and the reason-cause its predicate. Thus, everyone who deserves death has committed such an act, etc. And then, given a subject exhibiting the new middle terrn, Socrates deserves death, deduce the presence of the cause in the subject: Socrates has committed such an act, etc. In such a case one would be inferring a cause from an effect. And the middle term would intend not, as before, the reason-cause, but instead, the effect. It would intend not that through which the effect was present, but that The false in itself strictly is not: it is only in the true, as negation. through wi1ich the cause came to be known. In other words, it would intend a sign; for a sign is that through which something other than itself is known. Socrates's deserving death would be a sign of his having committed such and such an act. But in order to know that deserving death was a sign of having committed such an act, one would have antecedently to know the major premise; that is, one would have to know that everyone who deserved death had committed such and such an act. Now it is possible for us to know that things may be signs of other things, or that they may be effects of causes, and such knowledge comes to us from the observation of concomitant variations and the reflection that it is highly unlikely that things which vary concurrently are self-caused or things that happen by themselves. But the knowledge that such and such a thing is an effect of that cause or signifies that thing is not come by so easily. For we stand in the middle of things and we do not see the causes, i.e., the fully convertible major premises." But the measure of our knowledge is the extent 17 �The College to which we come to view more and more things about us as effects of particular causes, that is, as conclusions from premises. We express facts through sentences, and as we think these, we realize that they are either selfevident, to be made evident through middle terms, or else not to be made evident at all. For this is the same as saying that the things we apprehend are either selfcaused, caused through or by something other than themselves, or simply uncaused, that is, by chance. • • • • • III. It is at this point the search for the unseen causesthat is, for the fully convertible major premises-, that what we have said about the true being only consequent on the true comes together with what we have said about the reason-middle term of an argument intending the cause. They come together in the hypothesis and in that form of reasoning called the hypothetical syllogism. For what, after all, is an hypothesis? In its most simple form, it is a premise in which what manifests something is temporarily conceived or thought under some sort of middle term, a middle term whose conceptually necessary consequences are the very effects which are sought to be explained. If light be wave motion, interference patterns are possible. If the heavens move spherically, the stars may be seen to rise and set. If the elements be composed of more or less indivisible bits of matter, two substances can react in definite proportions by weight. It is a premise, further, about whose truth one is in doubt, but the truth of which can be known, if, from assuming it as true, the facts can be deduced. For the facts take the form of conclusions. And a conclusion, as we have seen, if it can be shown to be a consequence at all, can only be a consequence of the true, since it cannot be a consequence of the false. It is thus a premise the doubt about whose truth is to be removed by the process called, appropriately, verification. But it is not sufficient for the hypothesis to be true that the effects can be deduced from assuming it as true. Since a cause is commensurate with its effects, the middle term to be sought must be such that those effects are the necessary consequences of it and of nothing else. Since the appearance of the rising and setting stars can also be explained by a rotating earth, neither is the proper middle term between the stars and their rising and setting. The true middle term and true cause of that particular thing would have to be something common to both middle terms: not only would a necessary consequence of it be the rising and setting stars: it would also be true that no other motion could have the same consequence for an observer stationed on the earth. Logicians are right, therefore, since truth can only 18 follow upon truth, when they say that it is valid to affirm the conclusion when the hypothesis has been affirmed. But since they do not often stress that what makes the conclusion follow at all is the fact that the predicate-effect is .folded into or implied by the middle term, they are led to deny the validity of affirming the hypothesis after the conclusion has been affirmed. But this is not invalid at all, provided that the middle term is a true cause; provided, that is, that the middle term and effect are fully convertible: that the effect is truly a consequence of the middle term. Thus, in the case of Socrates and his being worthy of death, if we were to pick as middle term the commission of such an act ... and if his being worthy of death is given as true, the hypothesis can be validly and truthfully placed beyond the realm of doubt. For only the true breeds the true. Furthermore, we can now see why it is right, if the conclusion is denied, to deny the hypothesis. For to deny the conclusion is to say that what seemed to be a conclusion is false. But as we have seen, all that means is that some other conclusion, its contradictory, the observed facts as formulated in a sentence, is true. And since the true can only come from the true, and the true can only yield the true, the false can only be rooted in the false. Hence anything which made the false conclusion a consequent and to the extent that it did so, must also not be. Such is the rationale of a reduction ad absurdum proof. Take the following hypothetical sentence and assume the implied major, that anyone who corrupted the youth deserves to die. "If Socrates corrupted the youth, he deserved to die. But Socrates did not deserve to die. Therefore he did not corrupt the youth." From the falsity of the conclusion, Socrates deserved to die, it is right to deny the hypothesis, that Socrates corrupted the youth; for if not, we would have to maintain that Socrates both did and did not deserve to die. But it is equally true that it is proper to deny the conclusion if the hypothesis is denied. But only to the extent that the hypothesis makes the conclusion follow from it as a consequence. Suppose now that Socrates did not corrupt the youth but did introduce new divinities and that such an introduction made him worthy of death: "If Socrates corrupted the youth, he deserved to die. But Socrates did not corrupt the youth." It is valid to deny that Socrates deserved to die to the extent that his deserving of death is a consequent of his corrupting the youth. And if deserving death were truh a consequenc-e of corrupting the youth, that is, if cor· rupting the youth were convertible with being worth,· of death, it would be valid to deny Socrates's deserving death. But deserving death is not truly a consequence of corrupting the youth: it is a consequence of commiting such an act as by its nature tends to the destruction, etc. Since. therefore, deserving death is not a true consequence of �April 1971 corrupting the youth, Socrates's deserving death can stand despite the falsity of the hypothesis. But one has only to think of something which would be convertible with corrupting the youth of Athens in order to see the validity of denying the conclusion after the hypothesis has been denied. Thus, "if Socrates corrupted the youth of Athens, he injured their souls. But Socrates did not corrupt the youth of Athens." It is perfectly valid to conclude that he did not injure their souls. And this because corruption of a youth and the injury to his soul are convertible terms. We may say as a result of this investigation that consequence seems to reside in fully convertible major premises, and that only because it does reside there is it possible for reasoning to move from one statement to another. But if that is so, any symbolism of hypothesis such as if p The thing thought must be purely significant of the thing that is. then q; p therefore q is radically deficient. The reason is not only that p, and at least r, and possibly s and t as well, must be true before q can in fact be implied by p, but also that p and q cannot be any premise and any . conclusion different from one another only to the extent that each is not the other. Both must be restricted to such premises as conceptually lead to such conclusions and to such conclusions as are in fact consequent on such premises. And that means that there must be a fully convertible r in there somewhere. * * * * * IV. It would seem appropriate at this point, since we have spoken so much about the true and the false, and since logic takes the true and the false asabsolutely fundamentaL to trv brieBv to make a few remarks about each of them and· tl1en to try to think about the relation between truth and-reality. The false, you will . recall, was unthinkable in itself. It was self-contradictory. \Ve saw that it immediately resulted in a negation of the false assertion, which negation itself was a true negation. Its characteristic manifestation is therefore "not. ... " Now "not ..." is an adverb, that is, it is always used to modify something. If we want to think of it as stripped of its adverbial trappings, we have to think no, pure and simple, and that is not to think at all. To try to think pure "no" is just like trying to see pure darkness. And just as darkness is only apprehended through illuminated things, so no is only thought through true affirmations of negation. The false in itself strictly is not: it is only in the true, as negation. It is even too much to say that the false is not, for we are saying that it is not. One should rather say "false not" or, even better, nothing at all, for even that much is mere noise. We can, therefore, drop the word "false" from the voca bulary since we do not mean anything by it other than tme negation. But that we may keep. And what of the true? \Vhat do we think when we think that a thing is true? Let us attack the problem this way. \V'hat is the difference between saying "I am lecturing" and "It is true that I am lecturing." It would seem to be the same as the difference between requesting someone to assume that the earth moves around the sun and that it is true that the earth moves around the sun; or as the difference between asking "Are you lecturing?'' and "Is it true that you are lectnring?" And there does not seem to be any difference at all. Any affirmation or assumption or even queslion is at the same time an affirmation or assumption or question of its truth. The phrase "It is true that ..." does not add anything to an affirmation. \Ve may therefore also drop the word "true" from the vocabulary, although we may retain "affirmation," understanding thereby necessarily affirming something. Now what is the relation between an affirmation and a negation? Is there any priority of the one. over the other? A moment's reflection \Vil1 reveal that affirmation is prior, for even a negation is an affirmation of negation. And if someone were to say that that is a specious argument, because it is just as possible to say that an affirmation is a negation of a negation? He would be wrong, for even a negation of a negation is an affirmation of that negated negation. * * • • • V. Let us now turn to the great question, what might be the relation of affirmation to "reality," "what is," or "being"? The first thing we should look at is the hypothesis again, but this time from a fresh point of view. If, as we have been maintaining, an hypothesis is a premise \vhich we do not know whether to affirm or deny, but which, if affim1ed, gives the middle t·erm throngh which the conclusion follows, it follows that we can speak about premises being in themselves and prior to our coming to know whether to affirm or deny them, either affirmable 19 �The College or deniable. The enterprise of hypothesis and verification is inconceivable without this supposition. And indeed, not only is hypothesis impossible, but any question at all is impossible if such is not the case. But we have seen just now that pure negativity is unthinkable and selfcontradictory and that we can only apprehend it in the form of an affirmation of negation. Therefore if it is possible to speak about premises that are in themselves, it can only be affirmable premises that are in themselves. But what in the world can it mean to have a premise that is affirmable in itself? A premise can only be in the one who thinks it, if it is in anything. But what is it then that is in itself and that one doubts whether it should be affirmed or denied? When we want to find out whether something is true, what is the something about which we want to make the determination? If it is not the premise, and that it cannot be, it can only be that which the premise asserts. But the premise asserts what something is. Consequently, what is in itself and prior to· our coming to know it, must be what something is, i.e., being. And the affirmation, the premise, must be the being in us of what is also in itself. But how is this double mode of being possible? We have been suggesting it during the whole course of this evening, identifying facts with conclusions, middle terms with causes, and predicates with effects. And every time we spoke of intentions-of middle terms intending causes, of major terms intending effects, and of minor terms intending physical subject. We seemed to have been moving swiftly from thought to being and back again and "intending" has been our vehicle of passage. But what is it to intend? And how does it solve the problem? Let us return to the example "every man is a duck." I take it as fixed and given that none of us, no matter what we may be or what our habits may be, invariably says "quack-quack" or paddles about on the surface of the water. Now you will recall that when we had that example before us we asked our logician friend the following question: have we not agreed that those beings which are rational, featherless, terrestrial, bipeds, of a certain average size, are called 11 IDen," and that those beings which are of another size, irrational, winged, feathered, and aquatic, are called "ducks"? We pick this example because of the relation which it reveals between the name and the named. Clearly Now to intend is exactly the same thing as to mean: we use them synonymously, e.g., I didn't mean to do that; I didn't intend to do that. Both are verbs referring to activity. The status of the word then is clear: it is in the gap between me and what I mean, what I intend, or that to which I want to point. It itself is used as a mean between these two extremes, and it is highly doubtful whether I can mean, intend, or point without it. Its use is to help others and myself to come to mean what I mean. The end of its use is that both come to mean the same thing. If the above analysis is correct, it follows that if what is meant is self-cm;tradictory or unthinkable, the name through which it is intended will be a mere voice-sound, a mere word; for since what is self-contradictory cannot be entertained, there will be nothing to intend. Thus if To ask a question is to seek for being. the voice-sound, ''the square root of two" is used to mean "that number which, multiplied by itself, is equal to two," _and it can be shown that there is no such number, number, again, being used to intend "a plurality of units" (and it is not altogether clear what else the word is used to mean), "the square root of two" will be mere noise, acoustically different from "the square root of three," but every whit as meaningless, i.e., lacking in a meant. So far, then, we have three things, the speaker, the word or name, and what the speaker means. But now our question arises again: what is the relation between what duck" are each he means and what is? Now as a synonym for what a speaker means, Jet us use "what a speaker thinks." For we use these phrases synonymously: Vvhat do you mean? \1\That do you think? names; but their being called names can only mean that Say \vhat you mean; say what you think. To the meant, insofdr as they are names, they name something \vhich then, and to the intended and the pointed to will correspond the thought, which is the analogous passive participle of the active verb to think. It is not a noun intending, I don't know what, a rather opaque blur, such as in the phrase "Greek thought." It is a passive participle, and this indicates that what it modifies is being acted on by the one thinking it. So now the question enough the voice-sounds "man" and 41 is not itself a' name. They point to something or tend to something. Or rather, since the activity of tending or pointing is more properly in the speaker or thinker than in the name itself, one who uses them uses them to point to or tend. A Dame, in other words, is such on1y in its use. The speaker intends -something through the name. 20 �April 1971 has become, what is the relation between the thing . thought and what is? Let us put the question in another form. \Vhat is includes this auditorium, you, the patient and long-suffering audience, John Glenn's space capsule, and many other things as well. For of each of them I can say "it is." Now these are all things that we think of or about; so that as a s~·non~'m for "what is," "being," or "reality,'' I feel free to speak of the things of or about which we think. So the question narrows down to this: what is the relation between what we think and what we think about. Or rather it is this: what is the relation between the thing thought and the thing thought about' Only one answer seems possible. They must be the same, and yet the thing thought must be about or of the thing thought about. But '' Ldt Lind of relation is that? To try to answer this question, we must ask what sorts of things are of or about other things. Now newspaper articles are about things, books and lectures are about things, and photographs and images generally are of or about that of which they are photographs and images. And what all these have in common is that they are means through which one can move in order to get to something else. In other words, they are signs, for a sign, you will recall, is that through which something other than itself is known. Their significance precisely lies in their power not to be themselves. The more they are themselves, the less they are significant. And so what I think must be a sign of. what I think about. But these other signs also. share something else, namely, that they must all be known in themselves before what they signify can be known through them. One must learn what people use words to intend, and the sound and appearance of those words before one can use them either to mean things by them or to learn what others intend by them. One must find the article before learning w~at ·someone says is going on in Algeria. There is a kind of obstruction or opacity in the thing itself which must be overcome before the thing becomes transparently significant. Since this is so, one may call these imperfect s1gns. But I do not have to know you, this audience, as a thing thought before I can know this audience as a thing thought about. Indeed, the existence of a thing thought is onlv arrived at after one begins to reflect on the possibililv' of thinking about anything. I am never aware of things as things thought. \\That I think when I think this audience takes me directly and transparently through to t1li<; ;mclience. If it did not I could never get-to make lhc distinction' between thing thought and thing thought about at all; for I could never have the occasion to think that what I thought might be different from what I think about. The sign therefore must be such as not to hinder the proceeding in any way. It must therefore be a perfect sign; and the relation between what I think and what I think about or of therefore must be one of pure significance. The thing thought must be purely significant of the thing that is. It might be possible to carry this analysis out for affirmations and arguments as well as names, and in each case it would probably turn out that the relation would have to one of pure significance. But I think it is now time to stop and, bearing in mind our . initial resolve to seek for life in logic, emphasize a few of the conclusions which this study of the implications of reasoning seems to lead us to affirm. The first is that logic is permeated throughout with logos and ratio. \Ve meet them not only in the triple sense of argument, word and reason. \Ve also meet them in the sense of re1a tion, where the \Vord is a mean between myself and what I mean through it. \Ve meet them in the middle term which unites the minor term with the major term, in the cause, which unites the subject with the effect, in the sign, which unites the signified with the one for whom it is significant, and again in the middle term as a mean between a thinker and the why of things. Last of all, we meet them in the thought itself, a mean between being and the thinker. But in the second place, we must also notice that every affirmation is true. But we must add that it is possible to utter many sequences of words which are not affirmations. It is possible that the ignorant, the bigoted, and the deceiving, can trespass on the good will, credulity, and compassion of others by making them think that the noises they make are significant. The road to the revelation that not everything that is sayable is thinkable is a long and hard one. But it is there. For dialectic is with us, and she can reveal to us the ultimate absurdity of our false opinions and the meaninglessness of the sentences by which we try to signify them. But finally, and perhaps most significant of all, is the understanding which we get of a question. For a question is in truth a questing, that is, an activity, the activity of searching and seeking. But we can see now that it is also a seeking for affirmation, and that this is inconceivable without the existence of the affirmable. To ask a question, in other words, is to seek for being. Doubt is rooted in possibility. Edward C. Sparrow, Jr. received his B.A. degree from Harvard College and his LL.B. degree from the Harvard Law SchooL He then sen·ed for a time with the Nev;• York Legal Aid Society. He received his M.A. degree from Teachers College at Columbia U~i\·ersitv. A Tutor at St. John's College in Ann::~polis since 1957, he sen·ecl as Acting Director of the Integrated Liberal Arts Curriculum at St. Mary's College, California from 1964 to 1966. · 21 �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES PAUL MELLON GIVES ST. JoHN's $1,000,000 St. John's College received a major gift of one million dollars from Paul lvlellon, Class of 1944, in December, 1970. In transmitting his gift, Mr. Mellon, an Honorary Fellow of the College, strongly ·endorsed the Annapolis and Santa Fe colleges. "St. John's has demonstrated through the lives and careers of its alumni the validity of its distinctive program in the liberal arts, begun some three decades ago," he said. "St. John's stresses the essential unity of knowledge," Mr. Mellon stated. "To my mind, the College's program constitutes a cohesive and challenging learning experience for young men and women. Mr. Mellon also noted with approval the decision of the St. John's Board that the College. remain small so that a close personal relationship could be possible between students and Tutors. He cited the fact ·that certain large ously graduated from Yale University and had received an M.A. degree with honors in history from Cambridge Uni· versity in England. Over the years his interest in the College has been evidenced by personal gifts and by grants to its endowment fund, building program, and current budgets from Old Dominion Foundation, of which he was the founder. Most of these grants have been on a matching basis. In 1958 the College's Board of Visitors and Governors named the new science laboratory building Mellon Hall in his honor. At that time he was also named an Honorary Fellow of the College. Presently he is serving with Mr. Mark Van Doren and Mr. Richard 11 universities were now seeking to estab- lish colleges of the size and character of St. John's within their own campuses. "I consider it extremely important that St. John's College attain as firm a financial base as possible over the next several years, since its mission on the American educational scene was never more important than today.)' l'vlr. Mellon's interest in St. John's dates to 1940 when he enrolled as a freshman in order to experience for nearly a year the College's unique liberal arts curriculum. He had previ- 22 Paul Mellon F. Cleveland as Honorary Co-Chairmen of the National Committee for St. John's College. This Committee was created in anticipation of the 275th anniversary celebration planned for the fall of 1971. Mr. Mellon expressed hope that his gift would serve as a catalyst and a challenge for others. In accepting the gift, President Richard D. Vleigle expressed the deep gratitude of the College for ll!r. Mellon's support and confidence. At a time when private colleges are confronting grave financial difficulties, Dr. Weigle said that the Mellon gift would greatly strengthen the academic program on both campuses. President Weigle indicated that the Santa Fe share of the Mellon gift, which totalled $651,000, would be used. first, to eliminate debt there, and to ensure against a deficit in the current fiscal year. The remaining amount will be placed in a special fund to be drawn on to match gifts raised during the Anniversary campaign. Announcement in Santa Fe of l\lr. Mellon's gift was received with appreci· ation by the local community as weil as the College. An editorial in the Santa Fe new-;paper, The New Mexican, guoted :\lr. Mellon's statement on the d1sbnct"~ program being demonstrated throu;'t the lives and careers of the alumm. The editorial commented, "This i' high praise indeed, and well me~:~::' in our opinion." The '\Titer addtc.. •' is also noteworthv that the St. J. :.: concept of liberal education_ h.> spired other colleges and umn.·r:.:::~-c throughout the country to offer,. ;·o:o ations of the St. John's program. �April 1971 SANTA FE PRESENTS RADIO SERIES A series of conversations between St. John's Tutors and students at Santa Fe are no\v being broadcast every other Saturday morning by a local station, KTRC. "A College in Action" is the title of the half-hour programs, as suggested by Dean William A. Darkey, who was a participant in the first discussion and introduced the series. The conversations are representative of the various types of classes which constitute the College's unique liberal arts curriculum. Their purpose is to demonstrate the dialectic approach to learning used at St. John's and to encourage the listener to read or reread the subject works. The first. three programs were based on a comparison ·of the Declaration of Independence and the U. S. Constitution, Robert Frost's poem "The Draft Horse," and Euclid's definition of a straight line. Tutors leading these discussions included l\1r. Darkey, Robert M. Bunker, Frank K. Flinn, David C. Jones and Ralph J. Quintana. Participating students \:vere seniors Jonathan L. Brewer, Maya Contractor, R. David Esdale and James F. Scott; junior Mark D. Jordan, and freshmen Claire Kurs, Michael Beall, Dan Blake, Dobbie Kerman, l\Jary Ridout, and Celia Yerger. GRADUATE INSTITUTE AWARDS FELLOWSHIPS Eleven New Mexico school teachers will receive fellowships this summer to the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education held each vear on the Santa Fe campus. Each fell~wship will cover all fees for the four summers required to complete the advanced course. Graduate Institute Director Robert A. Neidorf said thev are looking for promising te;-~chers 'i'i~·ho are interested in the Institute's unique liberal arts curriculum and who appear to be committed to a career of classroom teaching in the are:1 where they now reside. Discussing the first "Civilisation" film during a reception are James P. Underwood, President of the Annapolis Fine Arts Foundation (left), Mrs. James L. Motley, and Robert A. Goldwin, Dean of the College in Annapolis. T11e two institutions are co-sponsoring the film series. Photo: Anthony Drummond. "Although the program differs markedly from the conventional teacher-training curriculum, we believe it has been an unqualified success as a source of enrichment and inspiration for its students, and ultimately for their students," Mr. Neidorf said. Inaugurated in 1967, the Institute offers an eight-week program of studies based on the curriculum and seminar methods of St. John's College. The four subject areas are Literature, Philosophy and Theology, Politics and Society, and Mathematics and Natural Science. They may be taken in any order, one per summer. "CIVILISATION" COMES TO ST. JoHN's Santa Fe was one of the first communities in the nation to show the "Civilisation" film series, under the auspices of St. John's College and the Museum of New Mexico. The national program of free distribution of the films to small colleges is sponsored by the National Gallery of Art, the National Endowment for the Humanities, and the Xerox Corporation. Mr. Howard Adams, Deputy Administrator of the National Gallery, came to Santa Fe for the January lOth opening. The renowned color film series on the cultural life of Western man, written and narrated by art historian Kenneth Clark, is also being shown at the College in Annapolis until May 23rd. The series is being sponsored by the College and the Annapolis Fine Arts Foundation. At the opening of the Annapolis "Civilisation" series, Mr. P. James Underwood, President of the Annapolis Fine Arts Foundation, and Dean Robert A. Goldwin, were hosts to over SOO persons at a reception following the film. On both campuses two showings of the series have been arranged because of the overflow audiences each Sunday afternoon. 23 �The College CAMPUS NoTES Laurence Berns, Tutor, published a review of Yves Simon's Freedom of Choice in the Review of Politics, January, 1971. The book was translated and edited by Peter C. Wolff, Class of 1944, former St. John's College Tutor. Mr. Berns spoke of the book as "very lucid, with a most interesting discussion of freedom and causality." The old Santa Fe Association has commended Tutor John Chamberlin for his work in investigating and charting the route of the Acequia Madre, a 360-year-old irrigation ditch which runs through the city. As a result of his work the Acequia Madre has been included as a historic landmark in the State Registry of Historic Properties. The local newspaper, The New Mexican, cited 'his activities in a fullpage article with photographs. Geoffrey J. Comber, Tutor and Assistant Director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education, attended a meeting. of. the Maryland State Teachers Association in Baltimore in October to recruit students for the summer program in Santa Fe. In addition he organized two seminars for previous. Graduate Institute students in Baltimore and Washington, D. C. Tutors Geoffrey J. Comber, Alvin Main, Nicholas Maistrellis, John Sarkissian, and Robert L. Spaeth are conducting the Spring 1971 Adult Community Seminar using Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," Freud's "A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis," Joyce's "Portrait of the Artist as a Young I\1an," Mann's <~Tonia Kruger," Nietzsche's "Genealogy of Morals," Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure," and Shaw's "Man and Superman." George Doskow, Tutor, has been serving as the Administrative \lice~ President for the Anne Arundel Cou,..ty Chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union. Annapolis Treasurer Charles T. Elzey attended a meeting of the Eastern Association of College and University Business Officers in To- 24 Annapolitans participate in life figure drawing classes sponsored by St. John's. The classes, which are open to students and the general public, are conducted by the College's Artist in Residen::-c Robert A. Cole. Photo: Ed Boyce. ronto, Canada, in November. During December he attended a National Association of College and University Business Officers Investment Vvorkshop in Chicago. Topics under discusswn included college insurance problems, the impact of tax reform legislation, the total return concept in the investment field, and the new trend toward unionism in the aca·demic sector of higher education. Tutor Harry Golding and St. John's students participated in the 1970 Science and Technology Exhibition sponsored by the Annapolis Chamber of Commerce in November. Board member LeRoy E. Hoffberger has been elected Chairman of the Board of Union Federal Savings and Loan Association in Baltimore. An active civic leader, he is also chairman of the Baltimore City Hospitals Commission, president of the Hoffberger Foundation, a director of the \Valters Art Gallery, and a board member of the Associated Jewish Charities. An article entitled "The Missing Sense of the Past" by Robert A. ?\' eidorf, Tutor and Director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education in Santa Fe, was published in the January 1971 issue of The Center Magazine. On February 28th he delivered a lecture "Love of Form" at St. ~lary's College in California. Thomas Farran, Jr., Director of Alumni Activities, has begun his second year as chairman of the Partner-Membership Campaign for the Yl\!C:\ m Severna Park, Maryland, handling that organization's fund-raising for its opetating expenses. He also serves on t;re Committee of Management, and 15 t•K representative to the YMCA (:\nne Arundel) County Board of Dir<~·tc•,':• Tutor Robert D. Sacks of SJnto ! ' will begin his sabbatical this summc: by going to Israel to start \\TirW; " commentarv on the book of Gmc~> \:V. Kyle' Smith, Tutor Emcr::::o. '. a member of the Board of Dm~·tu:o ·the )Vestminster Foundation of_ .'::• o+ •r.napolis, Inc., an d a m~mber ·• ·~-~ Local Advisory Comn11ttee of dc:t �foundation. He also has completed going through Cah·in's works for his views on \Var and has written a brief introduction to these vi·ews which ·wi11 be one of a series on \Var sponsored by . the Local Commi !tee of the foundation. Hobert L. Spaeth, Tutor and Asssistant Deon in Annapolis, attended a conference on campus disruptions at the University of J'dichigan Center for Continuing Legal Education in August 1970. At St. John's he is the director of the February Freshman Program. The ;\b,-or of Annapolis recently appointed Lim to the City'5 Board of Housing Appeals. ;\ lr. Spaeth is also a member of a CitY-County Joint Committee on the Property Tax Differential. John S. Steadman, Tutor and Assistant Dean at Santa Fe, participated in a panel on "Education for the Future" at a January 13th meeting of the Los Alamos, New lllexico, chapter of the American Association of Universitv \\lomen. 1\lr. Steadman read a paper. entitled "\Vhy Schools?". Leo Strauss, Scott Buchanan Distinguished Scholar in Residence in Annapolis, has completed a book entitled Xenoplwn's Socrates, and an introduction to Simon Kaplan's translation of Hermann Cohen's Religion of P.eason Out of the Sources of Judaism. He has published an article on Plato's Euth1·demus in Interpretation, Summer 1970 issue. During i'vlarch 1971 he gave a lecture at the Baltimore Hebrew College on Hermann Cohen. Next bll and spring he intends to gi\·e a course on Nietzsche at the College. President P.ichard D. \Veigle was selected "Boss of the Year" bv the Annapolis Chapter of the Natio~al Secretaries Association in January. Nominated b,- .\Irs. IsabclJc Simpson, his '<:~:re::ry fur fiftc:cn y·~·:ns. \lr. \Veigle ·::~~ Lonurl'cl <1t J di1L·:cr ~ittcnded b\· i1lcm bcrs of the Coilc~e and the A1;. napulis communih·. His name wil1 be :.ubmittcd to the· i11tc:rn~ttionuJ "Boss uf the Year" progr~nn. An article entitled "H~ Photography of the Orion Nebula with a HalfAngstrom Filter" by Ray Williamson (with R. R. Fisher) appeared in Astronomical Journal, Volume 75, Number 5, 1970. Mr. \Villiamson received a National Science Foundation Summer Research Participation Fellowship for College. Teachers which he took during the summer of 1970 at the University of Maryland. He also has received a National Science Foundation Academic Year Extension Grant for Astronomy Research from Decem her 1970 until September 1972. SANTA FE ASSOCIATE ELECTED PRESIDENT OF MYSTERY WRITERS OF AMERICA Richard Martin Stern, who is chairman of the St. John's College Library Associates in Santa Fe, has been chosen president of the Mystery \Vriters of America for the coming year. He will be installed during the annual convention dinner in New York City on . April 30th. He has directed the successful Book and Author Luncheons conducted by the Associates in Santa Fe for the benefit of the College Librarv and St. John's in generaL Thev are' now in their third year, with tl;e 1971 spring series scheduled for April 16th and May 14th. lvlr. Stern won an M\VA "Edgar" for his first mvsterv novel some vears ago. His latest book, Murder in~ the \Valls, is due for publication by Scribner's in April. TWENTY-THREE IN FEBRUARY FRESHMAN CLASS IN ANNAPOLIS Twenty-three students, mostly transferees from other colleges and universities~ began their co11cgc educations ;1gain as freshmen at the College in Annapolis February 1st. The Fcbruarv freshman class included students from nine states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, and British Columbia. Some of tile nine -z--_:_;_, teen men trc.::sfem::: from Antioch Cc~~:'. .\'lellon UniwrsiiT. -:..-... rcrsill·, Hood Colle~=- ·,· lege~ ·Reed College~ ~~ of 1\Jusic of the ,_.:_ ,_ Rochester. the Uni,-e:-:-:: , the Univtrsin· of Io';'.~ ;,-:_-rersi !I of :i !2:-danc :. .·;.-vision. Approximateh· 1\Ye:::::..:::. "" of the new class r~c.-o i.,. _ Six students were ~\.:.-'.r.­ Scholarship Fil•dists. :~: letters of cc:-:::~1Cl~:...::_':_. students attend;:-d pu"::~:...: attended DJro2hiJl c:- :--~ and one • rec·ein:d ~­ equil·alencT diploma. ·:· are carh· entrants to 5:. ·.___ _ to the College before ;::;,c, ,_ . high school. T1m zc alumni. tv;o ha\·e a ::::~·-:.:. -· ----enrolled at the CoL=-¢ married to a St. J ok·: former students 2lso ~-::-::: teen students were i::: ::::,,_ their graduating class :.= ·-< A student 11·ho traiO.•"~: begins as a freshman 2:1.. credit for couc;es hlc-. ,, student who enters ~'- -F·ebruan· ;;"ilJ contir.::.:: coursts in a su:nmer :?=--~---"" STUDEKTS FoR:Ir RESCUE U:-;-n Su.r.-/ _. Santa Fe students :o~ Search and R=ue L.:.. '.· locating and .:iding ~-- _. nearb,- rnount2n are:;::__ ~J~nts ar~'~'ece:~?ng ?':-'~ aJd SUTil•c.l ..:. .. d 0~~niqutS. T:-.t:,- ~:-;: on c::=. law and er;-:;:::~enc-:_;- --~­ 1 needed. The S2c cd Fe car::::•c the fc8:!-::::~ :: :he ~ ivfou:-.~J.i:-.: t: :-::-iih:--:-:::. which i~:.~::.C-;: :he :F~-­ ~nca and ::::2:1·,- (:_:tdo~·:: :~­ inc1uC:n=: .-f::: ~-'-'PC~.. and c"Jm:;:: ~'" ~:-:ds. �The College FIRST ANNAPOLIS PROVOST NAMED Mr. Paul D. Newland, first Provost of the College in Annapolis, assumed his duties at St. John's on February 1, 1~71. Fallowing a regular meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors in early December, Mrs. Walter B. Driscoll, Chairman of the Board, announced his appointments as Provost and Tutor. Mr. Newland's appointments were recommended by President Richard D. Weigle following four months of search 7 interviews, and consultations with a joint Faculty Search Committee. Tutors from both campuses served on the Committee. The Provost, a newly created position, has executive authority for the instruction, discipline, and government of the College in Annapolis and is responsible to the President. Prior to coming to St. John's, Mr. Newland was Executive Vice President at Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where he also served as Assistant Secretary of the Board of Trustees. In addition he is President of the Middle-Atlantic Educational Research Center (MERC), a computer consortium of small colleges. For twelve years prior to his appointments at Franklin and Marshall, Mr. Newland held executive positions with the Hamilton ·watch Company. He was successively Director of Public Relations and Director of Merchandising. From 1961 to 1967 Mr. Newland was President and Treasurer of Standard Time Corporation in the Virgin Islands where he negotiated the acquisition of that firm for the Hamilton \Vatch Company. He was an assistant instructor in fine arts at Ohio State University and associate professor in fine arts at Mount Union College, as well as the Director of Academic Schools of the United States Marine Corps. From 1950 to 1952 he was an informational specialist with the Federal Civil Defense Administration, serving Plwto: Edward 1. Edahl. Paul D. Newland Provost, St. John's College in Annapolis as writer, producer and director of radio and television shows, and speeches on civil defense matters for Congressional and celebrity personalities. In 1952 he won first prize award for the best network education program for children presented by the. National Association of Education by Radio and Television. · Mr. Newland received a B.A. degree from Heidelberg College in Ohio and an M.A. degree from Ohio State University where he also studied for a doctoral degree. In addition he attended Denison and Catholic Universities. He and his wife Beth are parents of three children, Paul, Jr., 23; Alice, 17; and Claire, 13. The family expects to move to Annapolis at the end of the 1970-71 academic year. COLLEGE HosTS "INDIAN TABLE" A group of Santa Fe citizens, faculty, and students interested in discussing Indian history and culture meets at the College once a month on Vlednesday evenings for dinner and a talk by an authority in the field. New Mexican Indians occupy nineteen pueblos and three reservations in the state. Toun to nearby pueblos along the Rio Grande also are offered to student> at the College from time to time. Speakers at the suppers so far h:n-e included Bertha Dutton, Director of the lV!useum of Navajo Ceremonial Art, and Douglas Schwartz, DirectOl" of the School of American Research. In a related vein, exhibits are sched. ulted in the St. John's Gallery during March and April by Seymour Tubi.;, artist and instructor at the Institute of American Indian Art in Santi Fe; and by students of that Institute. STUDENTS PERFORM ANOUILH'S "ANTIGONE" A student group at Santa Fe prtsen ted Jean Anouilh' s ;',ersion of ,tl."' ancient Greek tragedy Anllgone ~:; December. The play was perfc:-rl><'-' one night for the College commu:"'' and another for the public. . The title roles of Antigone '"" Creon were played by sophc::J'-"~ Mellanie P. Morgan and freshmJr. Jc~' Harris. Production was under the "' rection of sophomore J. R. Thom?"''' 26 - ·-·-· ... - - --- -----~---~~---mlllll!!l!!i!lllll\lll �April 1971 Others in the cast were: Chorus, Mark Belanger; Ismene, Rebecca A. Brinkley; Haemon, Hal Hensley; Eurydice, Paula Brumley; nurse, Jennifer Jordan; messenger, Kevin E. Snapp; page, Jim Vv'illis; guards Steve Thomas, Philip \Veathers and Thomas Alex Lawson. Laura J. Kelly was technical director and Gregory J. Ford, technical assistant. Set decoration was by Robert M. Hampton, and Miss Brumley was wardrobe mistress. FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER SHOWS AFRICAN SLIDES Famed photographer Eliot Porter showed slides taken on his recent trip to Africa at the College in Santa Fe on January 22nd. Mr. Porter, who is well known for his outdoor photography for the Sierra Club on behalf of wilderness conservation, is preparing a book on the wildlife of East Africa. He is the father of Santa Fe student Patrick Porter, a junior. STUDENTS SPEAK AT SANTA FE CHURCH Four St. John's students will deliver lay sermons this spring at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith in Santa Fe. Paul F. Bustion,' Gail Hartshorne, Mark D. Jordan, and James F. Scott were invited by the minister, the Rev. Dennis Walker, · to participate in services during March and April. STATE BoARD HoLDs MEETING AT COLLEGE St. John's in Santa Fe was host to the March meeting of the New Mexico Board of Educational Finance, which supervises the financial operations of State institutions of higher education. Vice President J. Burchenal Ault spoke briefly to the board about the College's finances and the finances of New Mexico's three accredited private colleges. The New Mexico legislature is prohibited by the State constitution from appropriating money to educational institutions not controlled by the State. A recent law does allow students in private colleges to apply for loans from the State Student Loan Fund. SANTA FE CHAMBER ORCHESTRA COMBINES STUDENTS AND TowN'S PEOPLE The St. John's CoJJ.ege Chamber Orchestra is a new movement on the Santa Fe musical scene. "A group of Santa Fe adults and students from nine states have learned to make music together," the Albuquerque Journal recently commented in an article on the orchestra and its musical director, Richard B. Stark, a Tutor at St. John's. "It is a labor of love for both the Santa Fe musicians and the students, who receive no pay or academic credit for participation and [who J practice and perform on their own time," the newspaper noted. The orchestra's concerts are built around soloists from both the College and the community. A program last October featured a Vivaldi guitar concerto with Philip T. Ansteth, a junior from Tulsa, as soloist. Anne Hemmendinger, sophomore from Santa Fe, was soloist in a Marcello concerto for oboe and strings. That program also included a suite composed by junior student Steve M. Whitehill of Chestertown, Maryland. One of the high points in the group's drive for improvement was a week-long workshop in January with international conductor Eleazar de Carvalho, climaxed by a concert featuring the orchestra and De Carvalho's wife, pianist J ocy de Oliveira. De Carvalho is conductor of the Brazilian National Symphony and the Pro Arte Symphony of Long Island, New Y ark. Eleazar de Carvalho discusses his workshop with the St. John's College Chamber Orchestra with \Villiam A. Darkey, Dean of the College in Santa Fe. A harpischord constructed by :\1r. Darkey had its debut at the a:mcert conducted in Santa Fe by Dr. De Carvalho. Photo: Robert Nugent. SANTA FE RECEIVES $10,000 FROM THE NATIONAL SCIENCE FOUNDATION The National Science Foundation has awarded a $10,000 grant to St. John's College in Santa Fe. The "Institutional Grant for Science" was given to the College in connection with a research grant received earlier by one of its Tutors, Roger S. Peterson. Institutional Grant funds may be used for any aspect of a college's academic program in the natural and social sciences, including research and education. 27 �The College This concert also saw the debut of a harpsichord constructed by \Villiam A. Darkev, Dean in Santa Fe. The gr~up has been helped by gifts of material and equipment from two former local orchestras, the Rio Grande Sy'mphony and the Santa Fe Sinfonietta. Rehearsals and performances of the Chamber Orchestra are open to the public without charge. Students in the orchestra include: Violin-Ellen Usncr, sophomore; Margaret E. Jacobs, senior; Jennifer A. \Vicke, sophomore and Marcia E. Greenbaum, sophomore. Cello-David H. Shennan, freshman; Eric 0. Springsled, sophomore; and David \Vallace, freshman. Double Bass-Robert C. Norberg. junior. Flute-Janet E. Buchbinder, sophomore; and Christina Pierce, freshman. Oboe-Anne Hemmendinger, sophomore, and Thor Sigstedt, freshman. Clarinet-Gary D. Greene (also manager), sophomore, and Donald Merriell, freshman. Harpischord-Fred Sturm, freshman, and Anthony B. Jeffries, junior. MoDERN THEATER GROUP IN ANNAPOLIS PRESENTS CoMEDY The Modern Theater Group of St. John's College in Annapolis is planning to present "The Lady's Not For Burning," a comedy by Christopher Fry, on Saturday, April 17th, and Sunday, April 18th. The play is directed by sopl1omore Rand Lee, son of the late mystery writer Ellery Queen and radio serial star Kaye Brinker. St. John's College Playwright- Producer in Residence Alvin Aronson '52 is executive producer. The Caritas Societv of the Friends of St. John's College has lent the Charles Brian Scott; and freshmen Edmund Raspa, Deborah Ross, and Eric Scigliano. Sophomore Lee Elkins is in charge of lighting; senior Sarah Harrison and freshman Linda Sharp, costumes; and sophomores Bryant Cruse and Nicholas Patrone, sets. Sophomore Susan Conlin is the assistant to the director. SANTA FE STUDENTS PUBLISH TABLOID The student publication at Santa Fe is called Seven. Published monthly, it is printed on newsprint and includes reYicws of lectures, drama, films, and concerts as wc11 as a calendar, campus nC\'i'S, essays, photographs, advertisements, cartoons, and poetry. Chief editor is J. R. Thompson, a sophomore. Co-editors are senior James Scott and sophomore Della !\'Janning. The subscription rate is $2.50 per academic year. ST. JOHN'S STUDENTS WIN DANFORTH AND WATSON FELLOWSHIPS Richard Delahide Ferrier, a senior in Annapolis, and James Frederick Scott, a senior in Santa Fe, have been Richard Dclahide Ferrier, Danforth Graduate Fellowship winner, and Holly Carroll, honorable mention. Photo: Tlwmas Farran, Jr. - thc2tcr group funds for the performance and will sponsor the play on Sundav evening. Proceeds wi11 benefit the College's schobrship fund. J\ppc;ning. in the comcc1~- will be juniors Dana "'ctherton and Christel Stevens; sophomores Pet-er Aronson, Peter Ellison, Je;:mne H;:;rrison, Craig ?\Jooring.. Thomas Robinson, and awarded the Danforth Graduate Fellowships for College Teaching Careers, and Hollv Carroll, a senior in Annapolis, has be.en named honorable mention. Mr. Scott and another Santa Fe senior, Steven M. l\1oser, also won the Thomas J. \\Tatson Fellowships for Foreign TraveL Thus St. John's two senior classes with a total of only 80 members received two of the 107 Danforth Fellowships granted this year and two of the 70 \Vatson Fellowships. The \Vatson Fellowships proYide $6,000 for an initial postgraduate year of independent studv and travel abroad. The Danforth Fellowships program was established in 1951 with the aim of giving persona} encouragement and financial support to selected college seniors and recent graduates who seek to become college teachers. The Fellowship provides tuition and living expenses for up to four years of study toward the doctoral degree in preparation for a career in college teaching. Mr. Moser, whose parents live in Haiku, Hawaii, plans to traYel to Poland, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, Israd, a11d Germany in con- , \PI �April 1971 neetion with his study of "the status of the Jew in the modern world." He eventually hopes to attend medical school. At St. John's he received the best junior essa~·' ;:Jwt~rd and the Duane L. Peterson Scholarship, presented annually to a junior for academic achieve- monasterv in Snowmass, Colorado, and a brief time at a junior college in Pueblo. After purchasing a set of the great books for his personal reading, "I learned there was a place where they were used as texts." Because of an illness it was necessary for him to complete his junior work in t\:vo years. The Danforth Fellowships are open ment, constructive membership in the College community, and commitment to men and women who have a serious interest in college teaching careers, to postgraduate study. Mr. Scott, son of Mr. and Mrs. and who plan to study for the doctoral Floyd B. Scott of Pueblo, will use his degree. Special attention is given in \Vatson Fellowship to travel to three areas in considering candidates: England, Gennany, France, India, l) evidence of intellectual power which Afghanistan, and Tibet. His study topic is flexible and of wide range, and eviis "a personal and poetic odyssey." dence of academic achicyemcnt which His Danforth grant will further his is a thorough foundation for graduate study; 2) evidence of personal characstudies in psychology. \Vhile at St. John's he won the teristics which are likely to contribute awards for. the best sophomore and to effective teaching and to conjunior essays. He. also received first structive relationships with students; prize for the best English poem one and 3) evidence of concerns which year, tied for first place another year,· range beyond self~interest and narrow and also received second place another perspective and which take ethical time in the same category. A publisher or religious questions seriously. Based on a college's enrollment, the is interested in a number of his poems. Both students have worked at the number of candidates nominated may State Mental Hospital. ]'vir. Scott also be two to five. St. John's College is has helped conduct studies at the State limited to two nominations from each Penitentiary. He entered St. John's in campus. From Eugene, Oregon, Mr. Ferrier 1966 after two years in a Trappist SteYen M. Moser, winner of TilOmas Fellowship for· Foreign Travel J. \Vatson James Frederick Scott, v.~nner of Danforth Graduate and Thomas J. Vl/atson Fellowships is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert H. Hunt, Jr. He is presently team-teaching physics and seminar at Tire Key School in Annapolis with Tutor Thomas K. Simpson as well as attending classes at the College. At St. John's he was a member of the Delegate Conneil, and in the spring of 1970 he was treasurer of the Polity. He has appeared in several dramatic productions including "Henry IV, Part I," "Love's Labour's Lost," and "Twelfth Night." In 1969 he received the book award from Teachers College of Columbia University. After fulfilling alternate service, Mr. Ferrier plans to study the histon· of science at either the University of California at San Diego or Princeton University. iV!iss Carroll is the daughter of 1\Ir. and Mrs. Alexander Spicer Carroll, Jr. of Indianapolis, Indiana. A member of the Instrumental Ensemble, a chamber music orchestra, she was also a member of the Small Chorus. In 1970 she received the book award from Teachers College of Columbia University. Miss Carroll plans to take off a year to vi'Ork for an environmental agency. She then may study environmental engineering perhaps at The Johns Hopkins University. More than 1,800 college seniors from colleges and universities throughout the United States were in the Danforth Fellowship competition. Approximately 400 students were chosen to be inten,iewed, with only 107 awards made. The selection of the Danforth Fellows is made annually by a national panel of educators. PLEASE NOTE! 1lre December 1970 cover of the magazine has been reprinted as the inside back cover of this issue for those of YOU who are interested in collecting the con:rs. \Ve sincerely regret the poor reproduction on the December cover and regret any inconvenience it might have caused. (Ed.) 29 �ALUMNI ACTIVITIES Dear St. John's College: 5 February 1971 Your announcement of Mr. Mellon's latest donation to the college moves me to [a] rather different communication from that which I had at first intended. Your inclusion of me as an alumna with the attendant circumstances of pleas for money (of which I have very little anyway) had up to now annoyed me slightly, since of course I was at St. John's for Jess than a year. It was a shock to find that Mr. Mellon's stay was equally short. Even though his other academic achievements make further comparisons futile, his example of concern with the affairs of St. John's has given me [cause] to think. My anger toward St. J ohn's-a feeling perhaps familiar to others who have '!eft the. college in a confusion of academic and personal conflictshas largely evaporated, leaving me now able like Mr. Mellon to consider myself in some way connected with the college despite my non-graduation, and to wish to continue that connection simply because I agree with 'the St. John's idea.' I only wish I could express these feelings as lavishly as Mr. Mellon. But please accept this rather smaller token, and if my example will encourage other 'alumni' like me, please feel free to use it. Sincerely, Linda Rodman Dewing '68x PS My current activities, should any old cronies be interested, include a happy marriage and study leading to a degree in nursing at Simmons College here in Boston. Love to all. LD ALUMNI BOARD OF DIRECTORS The Board of Directors of the Alumni Association has been increased bv four members since the elections at Homecoming. As provided in the ByLaws of the Association, President William R. Tilles has appointed the following: Miss Allison G. Karslake S'68, a teacher at the Key School in Annapolis, and the first Santa Fe graduate ever to join the Board; l\·frs. Barbara (Brunner) Oosterhout '55, whose husband, John '51, is a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors; 30 Thomas G. Casey II ('65) '71, student representative, back for his senior year after an Army hitch and several trips to Vietnam; and Joseph P. Cohen '56, alumnus Tutor at the College since 1962. In other action, the Board voted recently to vary the format of its monthly meetings. Rather than business meetings every month as in the past, on alternate months the Board will hold discussion periods. The first of these took place on February 16th, when the Treasurer of the College, Charles T. Elzey, discussed the non-academic operations of the College. Provost Paul D. Newland also attended the meeting. In future meetings the Board will hear from chapter chairmen, past presidents of the Association, and other officers of the College. All of these meetings are designed to improve communications between the Association and the College, as well as between various elements of the Alumni bodv itself. • CHAPTER NEWS "An Interview with Scott Buchanan and Stringfellow Barr" was the feature presentation at the February 2nd meeting of the New Yark City Alumni Group. The 40-minute film, produced under the guidance of Harris \Vofford, was made at the Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions in California, and was completed only a few days before Mr. Buchanan died in 1968. Mr. Wofford, now president of Bryn Mawr College, attended the showing and introduced the film. The Annapolis Alumni Chapter continues to hold monthly luncheon meetings at the College on the second Friday. Recent speakers have been Hersey D. Taylor, executive director of the Anne Arundel County YMCA, Judge Matthew S. Evans '31; Temple G. Porter '62; College Treasurer Charles T. Elzey; and Provost Paul D. Newland. CLASS NOTES 1907 Robert Anderson bas advised us that the percent response of the class to last year's Giving Campaign should have been 6i%. Miguel Ferrer, we have found, died in 1966, so he could not be counted among the possible donors. 1916 In November the College was presented a transcript of an interview with Lt. Gen. Thomas �April 1971 E. Bow-ke, USMC (Ret.). Originally taken on tape under the auspices of the Historical Division of Marine Corps Headquarters, the intcn·iew was one of a series with all general officers of the Corps, active and retired. TI1e collection supplements official reports already on file, and provides many personal views and insights not reflected in official documents. 1921 Lt. Ger,, l\filton G. Baker and CoL Josephine Louise Redenius were married December 1970. Gen. Baker is founder and superintendent of Valley Forge 1V1ilitary Academy and Junior College. :tvlrs. Baker had been director of publications and development at the Academy. The Bakers make their horne in Wayne, Pa. s: 1922 C. Ed\\'in Cockey this year has two sons at the A.nnapolis campus: James, a senior and Richard, who entered with the February freshman class. Benjamin C. \Villis, former superintendent of schools in Chicago and more recently head of an educational consulting firm, is now superintendent of schools of Broward County, Florida. 1923 11uough Luther S. Tall '21 we have re- ceived a reqD:est from Carlos V. Urrutia, Jr.: he would Jike copies of the 1920 and 1921 RatTat. His copies were lost in a fire in his house, and he would like to replace them. Mr. Urrutia's address is Calle 2, Sur Oeste, Caparra Terrace, San Juan, P. R. 00921. 1928 A. Olin Grimes retired January 31st after more than 41 years with Armco Steel Company. He started in the Melting Department of the Baltimore plant in 1929, and became manager of Baltimore operations in February, 1968, the position he held at retirement. Professor Louis L. Snvder must indeed be the most published of St. John's alumni; his . Frederick the Great was published in January by Prentiss-Hall. It is one of a series entitled Great Lives Observed. 1930 Edward f. Dwyer, president of ESB, Inc.', in December was installed as 1971 board chairman of the National Association of 1\1anufacturers. Active in Philadelphia United Fund work since 1965, Mr. Dwyer is chairman of the Finance Committee of the Board of Visitors and Go\'ernors. He first joined the Board of the College in 1959. 1931 Stanley S. Hall in January was promoted to general manager of The Fritz & Hawley Co., New Haven, Conn. .1\-ir. Hall joined the optical and photographic equipment store in 1928, and became manager of its Photographic Equipment Department in 1933. He is also assistant treasurer of the firm. · 1935 David E. Napper has been promoted to general manager, \Vashington office, for the advertising firm of Ketchum, MacLeod & Grove, Inc. 1937 \Villard 0. Ash, formerly chairman of the 11athematics and Statistics Department, University of \Vest F1orida, Pensacola, has accepted the position of Dean of Arts, Sciences, and Technologies, University of North Florida, Jacksonville. On Saturday, January 16th, 11rs. John Stuart Smart, Jr., of \Vestfield, N. J., was married to Ferris Thomsen of Holderness, N. H. Mrs. Thomsen was attended by her daughter and was given in marriage by her two sons. 1v1r_ Thomsen's two sons served as best men. Head lacrosse coach at Princeton University through last season, Mr. Thomsen is director of Camp Deerwood for Boys in Holderness. 1939 CoL M. Worthington Bordley v,:as awarded the Legion of Merit upon his retirement from the Army last fall. 1943 A most interesting letter from A Scott Abbott reports that after two years teaching at Colorado Alpine College, he spent last year teaching in a Steamboat Springs (Colo.) preparatory school. Now that their youngest is "on her way," he and his wife Kate are thinking seriously about teaching among the Indians. This year he is trying to outline an historical geography of Colorado, perhaps a first step toward such a study for the whole country. All this recent activity Mr. Abbott describes as "being foolish at fifty." 1944 Registration day for the February freshman class brought a welcome visit from John C. Smedley, as he brought his son \Vebb down to join the College family. Mr. Smedley, after many years in social work, most recently at the Children's Village at Dobbs Ferry, N. Y., has now embarked on what he hopes will be a career as a writer. A novel for Doubleday is in the works, as well as several others in various stages of development. Pete\-'C. Wolfl's son Theodore is a member of the freshman class which entered in September. ) 1945 I .--. The Danville {N, J / Citizen of l\1orris County in November C}fn'ed an interesting profile about Robert f· Campbell, Jr. :Mr. Campbell went to /work for Life magazine immediately after St. John's, starting as a reporter-researcher, and leaving to free-lance in 1957. He has compiled a long list of credits in Life and Sports Illustrated, and has written a number of award·winning films. He, his wife, and two sons live on a farm in Rockaway, Stewart A. \Vashbum '51 N. J ., where he indulges his hobbies of composing music and restoring a classic Bugatti automobile. 1950 Margaret Frame '74, daughter of James H. Frame, joined her brother 11atthew '73 on the Annapolis campus last September. Dean Robert A. Goldwin's daughter Elizabeth is a sophomore and her sister Jane is a senior on the eastern campus. John L. Lincoln's son John is also a member of the freshman class in Annapolis. Tutor Thomas K. Simpson this year is on 2/3 leave of absence, teaching only senior mathematics at the College, in order to serve as teacher and Curriculum Counsellor at Key School in Annapolis. At the school he teaches physics (team-teaching with Richard Ferrier '69), geometry, analytic geometry, seminar, electronics, and has indi,iidual students in calculus and modern algebra. Mr. Simpson's son Patrick is a freshman in Santa Fe, 1951 Stewart A. \\!ashburn, vice president and a director of Porter Hemy & Co., Inc., a New York management consulting firm, was elected to full membership in the Institute of Management Consultants in December. In an unusual move, he was accorded Founding Member status. In addition to his corporate duties with Porter Henry, Mr. \Vashbum is the firm's eA-pert on the evaluation and operation of field sales forces and in the use of computers to manage such forces. In addition he is a producer of prize-winning films for the firm's clients. 1952 'n1e October, 1970, issue of Liberal Education (the Bulletin of the Association of American Colleges) contained an article by Harry M. Neumann entitled "Plato's Defense of Socrates: an Interpretation of Ancient and lviodern Sophistry." Mr. Neumann, who holds dc&'Tees 31 �The College from the University of Chicago and The Johns Hopkins University, is professor of philosophy and go\'crnment at Scripps College and Claremont Graduate School. 1955 Alexandra Culbertson is now teaching at a school in Germany, the Zinzendorf Schule in Postfach. Mr. \Veigle has passed on to us a long, informative letter from Hugh D. McKay, Jr. Mr. McKay and his wife Joan (Gilbert) taught at the Colorado Rod..)' Mountain School from 1956 to 1959. In the latter year they were separated and subsequently divorced. Mean· while, Mr. McKay started writing TV scripts and planning for his own film. Attendance at film school at UCLA taught him a great deal, he says, and now his three part film is in production. The title of the production is "The I of the Beho1der," and the first feature-length section should be completed by 1972. Mr. McKay also hopes to open a theater for showing the film, revolutionizing standard motion picture distribution procedure by eliminating notmal distribution costs. He is now married to a forrrter actress turned teacher turned text-book writer, and while not working on his film, teaches at the Art Center College of Design and at Barnsdall Art Center in Los Angeles. 1961 We are informed that John C. Kohl, Jr., is now an assistant professor of biology at Trenton (N. ).) State College. The cut-back in federal science spending forced termination of his federally-funded research contract at Harvard last June. Stephen .Morrow, transferred and promoted by United Press International, is now Overnight Editor in UPI's division headquarters in Pittsburgh. He is responsible for the "overnight report" (stories written the day before for afternoon newspapers) for seven states, including Maryland. Eyvind C. Ronquist is back in Chicago, working in Library Resources, Encyclopaedia Brittanica. Joseph W. Alto~. Jr.; this seems a good position for one who does not deny that he has political aspirations. 1964 James P. Nach is now Second Secretary of the U. S. Embassy in Saigon, assigned to the political section. His first post v.~th the Foreign Service was as vice-consul in Calcutta. Before going to Saigon Mr. Nach spent a year of Vietnamese study in Washington. \Vhile in Calcutta he frequently saw his former roommate, Roger \Vicklander (see below). James l\1.. Toney, Jr., according to a note from his mother, was recently made chief deputy district attorney for Yolo County, Calif. Roger V. Wicklander, last reported in the pages of the newsletter "about St. John's'' as teaching at the American International School in Calcutta, is now at the American International School in New Delhi. 1963 A note from the mother of Elliott A. Rosenberg states -that her son is a social work supervisor in Bellflower, Calif. Mr. Rosenberg entered social work in the \Vatts area shortly after the riots there, and plans to return to school in September for graduate study. Edward C. \Vebby, for the past two years senior management assistant with the Anne Arundel County (Md.) Bureau of Communitv and Industrial Affairs, took on a new job J~nuary 11th. Mr. Vlebby was named administrative asSistant to County Executi\'e 32 1969 A long holiday period at the University of Texas at Austin a1lowed us the pleasure of a visit from Philip G. Holt. A graduate student in the Department of Classics at Texas, Mr. Holt talked more about B. Jeffries Cothran, Jr. than about himself. Mr. Cothran manages the Logos Bookstore in _Houston, under the auspices of the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer, pnd is a member of an interdenominational community devoted to Christian life and service. 1967 1970 A business card from David C. Dickey an- nounces that he has entered the practice of law in Stanardsville, Va. Our congratulations. Clark Lobenstine, whose membership in a Christian commune in Baltimore was reported in September, writes that he has finished his alternative service at Spring Grove State HospitaL He plans to enter a seminary in the fall, and to pursue a joint program with a school of social work. This would lead- to B.D. and M.S.\V. degrees in a total of four years. 1968 William Randall Albury has been awarded a \Voodrow \Vilson Dissertation Fellowship, one of approximately 200 to be awarded this year. Mr. Albury is a doctoral candidate in the history of science at The Johns Hopkins University. The holiday period also brought us an informative Christmas card from Steven and Theda (Braddock) dos Remedios (and daughter Jennifer). Both parents have now completed undergraduate college, he with a major in government from the University of San Fran cisco last July, she as a history major at Mills College in December. Both are now applying to law school. Jeflrey D. Friedman sends a short note from Jerusalem, giving his address as Yeshivat Chafetz Cha"im. He wrote that he had met David Sackton (SF '68) at the yeshiva on Mt. Zion in Jerusalem. Arthur H. Luse III V~rrites that he has been in the Army since enlisting last November. Having completed his basic training at Ft. Dix (N. J.), he is now stationed at Ft. Gordon (Ga.), receiving advanced training in Signal SchooL In Memoriam 1962 Ann (Davidson) Fastner and James Q. Blimmel were married this past fa1l, and are making their home in Hyattsville, Md. Steven Shore {SF) writes that he is the second member of Santa Fe's class of 1963 to receive an advanced degree, his an M.B.A. from Columbia University Business School. He is now a financial assistant to the Division Controller (Pipe Division) of JoP.ns-Mansville in New York. Mr. Shore says that he would welcome the chance to give (and to receive) advice to (and from) St. John's students and alumni about careers in business. v1900-George B. Girault, Washington, D. C., April 5, 1970. r/1.905-H. Rodgers Gore, Upper Marlboro, Md., Novembec 24, 1970. ,- 1909-Commodore Charlton E. Battle, USN (Ret.), Miami, Fla. , 1909-Allen H. St. Clair, Rocks, Md., January 9, 1971. lf916--Bcig. Gen. James T. Duke, ·USA (Ret.), Morganza, Md., December 19, 1970. 917-John M. Storm, Baltimore, Md., October 26, 1970. "J917-Co1. N. Dodge Woodward, USA /i (Ret.), Cambridge, Md., January 3, 1971. /1922-Dallas B. Lumpkin, St. Michael's, Md., December 5, 1970. 1924-Jay S. Price, Owings Mills, Md., ~ November 13, 1970. vl931-Alfced H. Cockshott, Bciarcliff / Manor, N.Y., November 4, 1970. (1935-Gordon K. Boucher, Sudbury, l\1ass, December 30, 19i0. .. -t936-Paul J. Kesmodel, Severna Park, Md., December 17, 1970. / . \ ,l-937-John T. Hopkms, Charleston, S. C., ,. February 1, 1971. �THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico December 1970 �St. John's College in Annapolis announces Summell" Confell"ence Site Available Auditorium, dining hall, dormitories, classrooms (301) 263-2371, ext. 14 The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 32 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1971 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1971-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Berns, Laurence Felter, Mary P. Parran, Jr., Thomas Trimmer, Maurice Sullivan, Daniel Description An account of the resource Volume XXIII, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1971. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_23_No_1_1971 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ff1e3339e5ee18e6640589468d7981e1.pdf 71e431c6c6f19f8dd5c8a99e3d4f51a5 PDF Text Text �The College Cover: Dante Alighieri, by Vincenzo Vela. Inside Front Cover: McDowell Hall, Annapolis. The College is a publication fat friends of St. John's College and for those who might become friends of the College, if they came to know it. Our aim is to indicate, within the limitations of the magazine form, why, in our opinion, St. John's comes closer than any other college in the nation to being what a college should be. If ever well-placed beacon lights were needed by American education it is now. By publishing articles about the work of the College, articles reflecting the distinctive life of the mind that is the College, we hope to add a watt or two to the beacon light that is St. John's. Editors: Laurence Berns and Malcolm Wyatt Managing Editor: Mary P. Felter Alumni Editor: Thomas Farran, Jr. Editorial Assistant: Maurice Trimmer The College is published by the Development Offices of St. John's College, College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland 21404 (Julius Rosenberg, Director), and Santa Fe, New Mexico ·(J. Burchenal Ault, Vice President); Member, American Alumni Council. President, St. John's College, Richard D. Weigle. Published four times a year in April, July, October, and December. Second-class postage paid at Annapolis,. 1\laryland, and at additional mailing offices. Vol. XXIII July 1971 No.2 In the July Issue: Noun and Verb, by Edward G. Sparrow . l Hell: Paola and Francesca, by Robert S. Bart. 7 News on the Campuses 22 Alumni Activities 29 �Noun and Verb* By EDWARD G. SPARROW I. Introduction This lecture is the fruit of reflecting on form in language. Some of the questions I have asked myself and tried to answer in this lecture are these: I) \\That status do the entities and distinctions traditionally used by grammarians to explain form in language really have? I am referring here to such entities as nouns and verbs, subjects, predicates, and objects, and to such distinctions as those between transitive and intransitive verbs and direct and indirect objects. 2) If these entities and distinctions do not exist in and of themselves, can any account be given of form in language at all? 3) If so, how should such an account be framed? This lecture. has three parts: a neutral part, a constructive part, and a conclusion. The neutral part is an investigation of verbal communication and a spelling out of some consequences, destructive as weiJ as instructive, that are the results of that investigation. The constructive part is an attempt to build on the results of that investigation. The conclusion considers the meaning of the word 11 Ungrammatical" and briefly examines one relation between the semantic and the grammatical. Let me apologize in advance for my use later on of familiar 'vor.ds with unfamiliar meanings. They w.ere the best I could find. Please believe my fervent hope that the context and the definitions I give of them will clothe them with intelligibility. II. Neutral Part A. An Investigation of Verbal Communication The words we speak do not carry their meanings with them. This is an obvious remark, but a very important one. \Vords may be winged. but they are not carrier pigeons. This is to say that ll'hen one hears a word, he does not hear a mean(ng along with the sounds he hears. Nothing is transmitted from speaker to bearer in speech except sound \Vaves. This remark is so important and funda~ *A lecture given at St. John's Co!lege in Annapolis, November 13, 1970. mental that I must repeat it. Nothing is transmitted from one person to another when they talk to one another except sound waves. This means that there is not, nor can there be, any transmission of "information/' that no "cornmunicabon,-' passes from one person to another, and that no "messages" can ever, as \ve say, get across in any spatia-temporal sense. If this were not the case there would be no such thing for us as a new word. The meaning of the new word would be borne into us along with its sound. This would, in turn, eliminate the gap between meaning and sound. But this gap cannot be eliminated, for it is to it that we refer when we say, "'VI/hat does such and such mean?" when we hear a ne\:v word. Si-nce all of us have had the experience of hearing new words, therefore, words do not carry their meanings with them. · Let me add that it is a good thing that this is the case. Teaching would be admittedly easier if a teacher could form the minds of his students just by speaking meanings. But in the first place, the price would be high: a student completely at the mercy of his teacher. And thus, in the second place, anything would have to be as true as anything else. But people do communicate with one another by means of words. And so, if words do not carry meanings, there must be another account of verbal communication. There is such an account, and it is psychological. Communication consists of shared meanings. But since the meanings which the hearer comes to share with the speaker cannot proceed from the speaker into the hearer, as we have seen, we must say that these meanings must be already in some way in the bearer and brought to his consciousness through association with the sounds he hears. The effect of speaking and hearing words must sornehO\v be to stir up these meanings within the hearer so as to have them come to his consciousness. Speaking words is the production of sounds for the hearer to associate with meanings. It is the making of occasions for the coming to the consciousness of the hearer of the same meanings as those which \Vere, and still remain, in the mind of the speaker. Thus words, as words, and not as sounds merely, are born twice: once in the souls of speakers when the\· enunciate sounds which thev have associated with their"' mea Dings, and once again in the souls of hearers 1 �The College when they have associated those same sounds with the meanings they already possessed. And so we say that human beings signify and that sounds do not. Men, in other words, and not discourse, are significant. The human activity of signification, wordbirth, is the association of the meanings which we already have within ourselves with the sounds that habit and convention have put at our disposal. And thus although words in themselves are indeed notlting but sounds, they do become words in us when we associate them with the meanings in our possession. But what are these meanings in our possession? Are they all of the same kind and comparable with one another? \Vhen we think of what a meaning is, we may tend to think more or less clear and distinct ideas such as are named by the sounds "dog" or l<anthropos," each of them with what one might call a determinate notional content, a "whatness." However, when we reflect on some of the prefixes and suffixes of English, or on the multiform endings, reduplications, augments, or internal changes in the words of synthetic languages, it becomes evident that elements such as "-ness" in English, or the "-s" characteristic of the third person singular of the verb, or such sounds as ' -mp.t" or "-ovTa," are also associated with some kind of meaning. That is, he who hears these sounds associates them with something. But the meanings \vhich come to mind with such suffixes, etc., are sorne\vhat different from those which come to mind with such sounds as "dog" or "anthropos." They seem to lack the determinate notional content, the "whatness," that is to be found in meanings such as "dog." I should like to mention a few of these special meanings, all of them very familiar to you, in order that our understanding of verbal communication may become somewhat enlarged. I shall merely list them here according to the different kinds of sound elements (or lack of sound elements); with which they are usually associated. Some of them, paradoxically, have no special sound element associated with them at all, but instead hover, as it were, under and around the edges of the ordinary meanings. For example, if we think the "meaning dog, we will find that under or around it there are at least two other meanings present. First, that a dog is a being; and second, that a dog can somehow be thought of as by itself. I shall call meanings that can be thought of as by themselves by the word "subjects" from now on this evening. Hence when you hear me use the sound "subject" in this lecture, you are not to think of "subject" in the sense in which we sometimes speak of the subject of a sentence or the subject of a predicate, on both of ll"hich occasions we say thJt a given word is a subject. I am speaking of meanings, not words, \\'hen I speak of subjects. This is of absolutely central importance for understanding this lecture. Similarly, if we consider. the meaning named by "runs" we will find that under or around it also there are other 1 2 meanings present. It, too, is a being; unlike "dog," though, it cannot be thought of as by itself; rather, the action of "runs" can only be thought of as in a runner, a subject; and it is an action-meaning, that is, the sound "runs" names an action. From now on I shall call meanings that can be thought of only as in subjects "adjects." Adjects are not to be confused with "adjectives." "Adjective" is something that is usually said of a word; for example, "Blue is an adjective" we would say in parsing. But I am speaking here, as above, when I spoke of subjects, not of words but of meanings, specifically meanings which can only be thought of as in subjects. The same holds true if we consider the meanings named by "blue," by "five," and by "between." Each of these meanings is a being, each one is an adject, and the first is a quality-adject, the second a quantity-adject, and the third a locality-adject. But commonly special meanings are not hidden under ordinary meanings but are rather associated with special sounds which occur before or after the ordinary meaning sounds, i.e., prefixes and suffixes. The Greek augment is a sound associated with a distinct meaning in the meaning of the sound to which it is attached. What is meant by "love" in "They love," differs from what is meant by "loving" in 11 Loving is suffering." In the example of ''1ov~ ing" the special meaning of subject has replaced the special meaning of adject which was in the meaning of "love." This change was accomplished by the addition of the sound "-ing." It so happens that that sound, in this context, is associated with the special meaning of subject in the sound to which it is added. A change within the sound itself, as in the so-called "subjunctive forms" of certain Greek words, the lengthened w or ~· can be associated with the different desires a speaker might have in speaking to his hearers. The order of sounds, also, as in the case of interrogation, can be associated with a distinct special meaning. "You do love me" means something different from "Do you love me?" and word order has turned the trick. Similarly, ") ohn loves Mary" means something different from "Mary loves John," and it is the difference in the word order that is associated with the difference in the meaning. Even separate sound elements, \vith which no ordinary meaning of their own is associated, are often associated with having another ordinary meaning appear under a special aspect. Thus one who hears the English sound "than" comes to view the subject named after it in the light of its being the standard to which the subject named before it is compared. Still other separate sounds arc associated with these special meanings only, ;:md thus not only me themselves not associated \vith ordinary meanings, but are a1so not even associated with having the ordinary meanings of the words around them appear under a special aspect. Thus in English, and in other languages to a lesser extent, the sounds called "relative pronouns" are only associated with �July 1971 the special meanings of subject, or object, and number. The hearer's memory and the context must provide further intelligibility. Tone of voice may be associated with interrogation. It may also be associated with negation of the totality of a rpeamng, as m scarcasm. So _much for a very partial first glimpse at these special meanmgs and at the means by which they are signified. As we shall see, there are many groups and kinds of them and, like "ordinary" meanings, they exist in the minds of all of us, waiting to be brought to consciousness by hearing the sounds or other elements with which they are by custom associated. There is no way to put them into our minds if they are not there already, for they seem to be pnor to expenence and are surely prior to language. As w~ grow m matunty, we gradua11y learn to associate them \\'lth all the v·ocal devices mentioned above plus a good many more, such as accent, melody, gesture, clothing, etc. Thus we may say that a given language bears the same . relation to the network of ordinary and special meamn~s wh1ch communicants have at their disposal, that a given amount of grains of sand bears to the network of vessels and tubing in which it happens to be located. All that is formal in language pre-exists language and is foreign to It. But more of this later. I should like to call these special meanings "dimensions" of meanings or just "dimensions." I pick this word "dimensions" b:cause it usually suggests something which, Without Impmgmg on the integrity of something already existi-ng, yet can change or expand it in some way. I am aware of a danger that a dimension of a meaning may, in the case of subjects and adjects, be a part of the meaning of those .subjects and adjects and not, as I have been suggesting, somethi-ng separable from them. However, it on balance that the subjectness or adjectness seems to of a meamng rs sufficiently external to it, or distant from rt, to allow the. use of the term. I am moved to this decision by the fact that these special meanings can, in English and other languages, be independently signified by the additiOn of such sounds as "-ness" "-al" "-ize" or "-ly" to the sounds which are associated with 'the ordinary meamngs. The use of the word "dimension" may be more difficult to justify where it is used to identify such things as sentences, predicates, and objects. Ho\:vever, as \:Ve shall see bter, this usage is not altogether far-fetched. VVhen we. call a group of s?tmds a sentence, a predicate, or an object, we are refern~g to something, to some meaning which comes to consciOusness when we hear those sounds. This meoning is altogether different from the ordinary :nc~mings of sounds such as "dog" or "~mthropos." Yet i't 1s wl~~t allows us to recognize those sentences, predicates, or objects as sentences, predicates, or objects. I am taking as a necessary, though not sufficient, test of the presence o~, a dimension the futility of asking a questiOn such as \Vhat is such and such-ness?" about n:e a given significant linguistic element. Such and such can be any significant linguistic element, from the suffix "-ing" to me:e \\;?rd ord~r,, ~s in "J ~~? lo~:es.'' T~us the futility of askmg \Vhat rs -mg-ness? or \Vhat rs the position of 'John' before 'loves' -ness?" is a sign for me that the linguistic elements "-ing" and the position of "John" before "loves" are associated \Vith dimensions of meanings rather than with ordinary meanings. B. Some Important Consequences There are some important consequences of the two positions affirmed so far for the study of form in language. The two positiOns are I) that communications take place by the assocwtwn of sounds with meanings, and 2) that meamngs mc1ude the \vhole range of dimensions of meanings as well as ordi-nary meanings. First, it becomes apparent that nothing stable or permanent can be said about words except insofar as they are sounds. \Ve may, that is, speak about the length of words their mellifluence, the number of their syllables, and thei; srmibnty to one another, all of them spatia-temporal predicates. But smce they only become words in us and never are such in themselves, \V€ cannot say anything about them that would be based on their being things in themselves apart from sounds. Hence we cannot ascribe to them natures as so-called "part of speech." \Ve cannot say that . they have "histories." 1l1ey are incapable of entermg mto relatiOnships. They cannot act in any way, I.e., they cannot umean," "designate," "modify" <(describe," or "point to." And thev cannot be classified except into spatia-temporally defined classes. Thus thev cannot be classed as "nouns," "adjectives," or ''verbs," "finite," or ":wn-~nite/' "transitive," or "intransitive." Nor can they be Identified as "subj·ects," "predicates," or "objects>) or spoken of as grammatical or ungrammatical, acceptable or unacceptable. The activity of parsing, therefore, as it is usually understood, is necessarily an exercise in futility and frustration. Thirdly, ,it is ~vident that any explanatory power or understandmg which conventiOnal grammatical categories had, and that any future attempt at making sense of form in language \\1i1l want to have, must be rooted not in word classes but in classes of meanings and of dimensions of meanings. For words in themselves are nothing but sounds: thm own proper being is to be articulated sound. Therefore there is not, nor can there be, such a thing as the science of grammar, if such a science be understood as so~ething differ?nt from a science of me~mings and din1enswns of meamngs. But the name of tklt science is logic. III. Constructive Part In this part of the lecture I should like to begin to clean up the debris by discussing what a studv of this branch 3 �The College of logic might begin with. I shall be concerned with the dimensions of meanings only, as a study of the meanings themselves would necessary involve a study of the deepest things, and, as we shall see, it is in association with the dimensions of the meanings more than with the meanings themselves, that form in language is grounded. I shall proceed a priori since what we are studying is not given in experience. I shall make a very rough ordering of the different dimensions and discuss a few. Dimensions are dimensions of meanings, and are as- sociated by convention with human vocal sounds. But human vocal sounds associated with meanings are speech, and speech is communicating something. Hence there are two main kinds of dimensions, those related to communicating, and those related to something. The ones related to something are related to meanings as such whereas those related to communicating are related to meanings as communicated, i.e., to meanings as brought by a speaker successively and deliberately to the consciousness of a hearer. The dimensions related to meanings as such I divide into those like subject and adject, where a mere inspection of the meaning· reveals the dimensions, and those related to meanings taken with reference to other meanings. A discussion of those in the first group would investigate subjects and the dimensions appropriate to them as sub;ects. For example, it would treat of that in subjects by which they. do or do not admit of plurality. Some subjects cannot be pluralized, for example, triangularity and co_urage. Vilhy? It would also investigate the different dimensions appropriate to the different classes of adjects. It would treat of that in quality-adjects that allows them to have degrees and of that in action- and passion-adjects that allows them to be differentiated with respect to time. It would provide the ontological basis for the possibility that in some languages what are called "adjectives" and ~'nouns" "agree" \Vith one another. This whole discussion would savor strongly of Aristotle's Categories, but I will not embark upon it now. The dimensions related to meanings taken with reference to other meanings concern, among others, the objective dimension and the attributive dimension. I will have a word to say about both of these. Both of them arise only when two or more meanings are present and considered in relation to one another. The first concerns only subjects, the second mostly subject-adject combinations. First, the objective dimension. There is an intricate network of relations which all possible subjects bear to a given subject. The most fundamental of these relations, one \Vhich every subject bears to every other subject, is that of being other than those others. The German word gegcnstand-:---stand over against-suggests this posture which every subject individually bears to all the others. Each is over against every other. Now the word gegenstand is, in German, associated with the same meaning that we associate with the word "object" in English, and I am going to suggest now that once a speaker thinks a subject 4 as such, all other subjects become for that subject and speaker fixed in their relation to that one subject as gegenstander or objects. This is not to say that they are any longer subjects in their own right-far from it. But it is to say that vis-a-vis the subject the speaker has chosen, all the other subjects have become permanently placed into an object status. I call the object status of a subject its objective dimension. Let me make this clearer by an example. In the words "John loves Mary," "John" names a subject. The position of "John" immediately before the adject-name "loves" tells the hearer that its meaning is the subject which the speaker wants him to unite with the adject "loves Mary." Now "Mary" names a subject also. But she acquires the objective dimension now because another subject, John, has been designated as the subject in the speaker's mind. Mary, in other words, has the dimension of object because she is not thought of as simply by herself-she is not a pure subject, that is-but she is thought of only as a subject in a relationship, i.e., as an object. But Mary remains a subject nonetheless, and so she may in turn find herself as a secondary subject in a relation to a third subject. Thus if the speaker should go on to say "John sees l'v1ary in the garden," Mary becomes the subject for the adject named by "in the garden." The subject named by "garden," in tum by its relation to Mary, has acquired the objective dimension. This kind of "subject-hopping" can go on indefinitely. Vii e may say, incidentally, on the basis of these remarks, what "case," as such, is. Subjects that have acquired the objective dimension have this status, in Greek and Latin, associated with small changes in their names. Such changes are calJed ''caseu endings. There are as many "cases" in a language as there are categories into which speakers of the language see fit to divide the objective dimension. But whether there are no case endings in a language or as many as fifteen, each case ending, as case ending, is associated with the objective dimension. \V'hether an object is called a "direct object," an "object of a preposition," or an "indirect objecf' makes no difference at all. Hence we may say that the ancient grammarians were right when they declared that there was no such monstrous absurdity as the "nominative case." The name of a subject, as subject, is, as it were, its natural name or the name of the subject by itself. "Cases" only arise when the subject, as has been said, becomes an object in addition to being a subject, i.e., when there is a declension from its proper self-sufliciencv. It is, in such a case, entirely appropriate for the name of the SUbject to change in Order to reyea] the changed status of the meaning. It is also, therefore, quite appropriate, where there are two subjects but no objects, i.e., in the case of the identitY of a subject with itself, under another name, as in "John is a ]oyer," that the subject name remain a subject name on the other side of the identity statement. In other �July 1971 words, there is good reason why there should be, in the language of the vernacular, "predicate nominatives." · The other dimension related to meanings taken with reference to other meanings is the one I call the attributive dimension. A speaker may, in the course of speaking, want to signify a subject-adject combination which he thinks the hearer has either already made for himself or else will readily, upon hearing it, concur in. For example, if I say to you that I met your lovely sister last night, I seem to be assuming that you have already made, or will r-eadily accept, my combination of loveliness \Vith your sister as w.ell as my combination of you \:Vith a sister. This desire of a speaker requires that there be sounds or other conventions available for his use which a hearer will associate with the fact that the speaker thinks that there are some subject-adject combinations which are not in question between them. In other words, the hearer must be able to receive signals from the speaker from which he will know that unions of meanings are being made without his being asked to notice them or question them. I call the dimension of such a tacit combination of a subject v.iith an adject the attributive dimension. In English the attributive dimension is associated usually with the placing of the adject name before the subject name. 11ms the "running boy" or the "blue book." This is sometimes known as attribution. Where one subject is identified with another, the attributive dimension of the second subject is associated with placing the second subject name immediately after the main subject name. "John, a lover, is faithful." This location is known as apposition. I should now like to turn to the dimensions related to meanings as communicated. I shall mention three of these but discuss only one. Communication, as we have seen, consists of shared meanings. But we have also seen that simple meanings and their dimensions are already shared, and that there are some combinations of meanings which a speaker thinks he either already shares with his hearers or else judges that his hearers will not question. Hence, the unshared meanings of communication, those for the sake of which communication exists at all, must be combinations of meanings which speakers do not think they already share with their hearers and which they want to share with them. Speakers speak for at least three purposes. They mean to indicate to hearers the actual or possible union or sepa· ration of subjects and adjects; or they mean to have hearers examine and indicate whether a subject and adject belong together; or they mean to move hearers to action. Hence, '"'hen a speaker wants to communicate, not only must he make sounds \\'hich he trusts the hearer \vill associate with the same ordinal)' meanings he has. He must also use other and distinct conventions for letting the hearer know \"vhether he means the hearer to unite those meanings, whether he w;]Jlts him to examine and indicate \\'hether they belong together, or whether he wants him to act. For communication to be possible, in other words, there must be linguistic conventions by which what a speaker says to a hearer reveals to the hearer what he, the speaker, means him to do. But the hearer too, for his part, must have an a priori knowledge of what a speaker might have in mind in speaking, which knowledge he can then associate with the linguistic elements in a speaker's words when they come at him. There must also, in other words, be the same meanings or dimensions pre-existing in the hearer and waiting to be brought to consciousness by the hearing of the sounds that by convention the speaker has associated with his particular desires. There are, then, three necessary dimensions of meanings related to communication present in the minds of speakers and hearers prior to any language. They are those dimensions in us which make us know that speakers expect things from us and the presence of which predispose us to recognize, or, better, to reach out in anticipation for, meanings we shal1 later categorize as sentences, questions, or commands in the \Vords of speakers to us. They are what prevents us from being either recording machines or mere sounding boards vis-a-vis the speech of others. Specifically, it is the indicative dimension in us that enables us to categorize some of the sounds we hear as sentences. It is the interrogative dimension in us that enables us to categorize other sounds as questions. It is the imperative dimension in us that enables us to categorize still others as commands. The indicative dimension is usually associated in English with placing the adject name as soon as possible after the 11 subject name, i.e., John loves." Sometimes, in addition, the indicative dimension is associated with the insertion of a special sound, such as '~am," "are," and "does." Where one subject is combined with another, the indicative dimension is usually associated with both position and special sounds, e.g., "John is a lover/' "John is my son," although sometimes position alone suffices, as in "Finders keepers, losers weepers." The indicative dimension is also associated with those sounds which, in addition to being associated with ordinary meanings of contrast, concession, etc., are associated with the speaker's asking the hearer to combine the combinations of meanings he has in mind. These sounds are the so-called <(conjunctions,"-"and," "although," "or," ('if," "since," ''un1ess,"-and the so-called "adverbs,""on]y," "yet," "hO\li'ever," "nonetheless/' "nohvithstanding," and many others. It may sound surprising, but the juxtaposition of a dependent and an independent clause is as much of a verb as "loves." Discussion of the interrogative and imperative dimensions and of the conventions \Vith which thev are associated is probably unnecessary at this point. ' It follows from what has been said that groups of sounds with linguistic elements associated with the dimensions of d subject dnd an adject, simple or complex, that ha·s the indicative dimension, are whdt are usually 5 �The College called "sentences." Those with the interrogative dimen'sion are called "questions," and those with the imperative dimension are called "commands." It also follows that sounds associated with simple or complex adjects that have the indicative dimension only and in which the subject is ignored are what are usually called "predicates." Furthermore, sounds associated with simple adjects that have the indicative dimension only and in which the subject is ignored are what are usually called ''finite verbs." Needless to say, sounds associated with subjects are usually called "nouns" when one is looking only to their subject character. But those very same sounds are also called "subjects" when one is distinguishing them from sounds which arc usually called "objects." If we bear in mind these new definitions of the familiar terms noun/' "finite verb/' "predicate," "subject," "object/' "sentence," "question," and "command," we will be in a position to answer many questions which before seemed, at least to me, to offer no hope of solution. I refer to such questions as "What is a subject?" "V\That is the difference between a noun and a subject?" "How do we know the subject of a sentence is the subject of that sentence?" "\Vby is not 'dog' a sentence, since it is a complete thought?" "How can we know that a given group of sounds makes a sentence?" VVithin the dimensions related to meanings as communicated, then, the indicative, the interrogative, and the imperative seem to me to be the most important. There are others, such as the subjunctive and the optative, but I will not speak about them. I submit that the necessities which these dimensions entail, and the necessities which are entailed by the dimensions related to meanings as such, underlie, and, indeed, constitute, whatever order, form, or regularity of pattern can be discerned in all the vocal sounds produced by human beings. IV. Conclusion I should like to conclude with some remarks about what is called ungrammatical speech and about the ·possibility of meaningless but grammatical· sentences. Just what does it mean to call some speech "ungrammatical"? I will only give a definition without comment: ungrammatical speech is speech that is at first apparently nonsensical but which has later been resolved by a hearer into a matter of merely unconventional usage of sounds. As to meaningless but grammatical sentences, let me just say this. Since grammarians talk only about dimensions of meanings but not about meanings directly, it becomes possible for them, in thought at leas~ much like the logicians with their empty forms of propositions, to try to separate the grammatical component of speech from the semantic. Hence we are exposed to such gems as Mr. Chomsky's "Colorless green ideas sleep furiously," or Lewis Carroll's "The slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the 6 wabe." It is fun to make up these things-"The scale of C sharp minor reads sweet potatoes." Many persons will assert that these three groups of sounds are all sentences, all grammatical, and all nonsensical. That they are in large measure nonsensical, I agr.ee. But I say that they are (to that extent) neither sentences nor grammatical. They look like sentences because all the English conventions associated with the dimensions related to meanings as such and to meanings as communicated are rigorously observed. Thus Lewis Carroll's utterance begins with "the," a sound associated with an adject mean~ ing mutually known determinateness in the subject about to be named; next comes the use of a sound ending in "-thy," a sound associated with a quality adject. Next comes Htoves,'-' a word ending in "-es," suggesting the dimension of plurality in a subject. The very proximity of the sounds "the," "slithy/' and "toves" to one another is associated with the attributive dimension of a subjectadject combination. And next come the words "did gyre and gimble," all of which together become associated in our minds, through the sound "did," with the dimension of an action-adject that has the indicative dimension. Similar things can be said about "in the wabe." Hence we have presented to us sounds usually associated with the dimensions of subject and adject with the indicative dimension, i.e., what is usually called a sentence. And so we say that the sounds make up a grammatical sentence. But we should be more careful. For the dimensions we have been discussing are dimensions of meanings, and hence when the meanings are either not present, or, as in this example, merely flirted with, or when they are incompatible, as they are in the case of Mr. Chomsky's "colorless green ideas," the dimensions are necessarily absent also. And so the sounds usually associated with the dimensions can only become dead and dry husks, having less relation to the dimensions than the discarded skin of an animal has to the animal. And just as the discarded skin means no animal, so the presence of merely dimensional signals, or dimensional signals in conjunction with incompatible meanings, means no sentence. In short, the examples are not grammatical because they are not even sentences. Edward C. Sparrow, Jr. received his B.A. degree from Harvard College and his LL.B. degree from the Han·ard Law School. He then sen.-eel for a time with the New York Legal Aid Society. In 1957 he recei\'ed his M.A. degree from Teachers College at Columbia University. A Tutor at St. John's College in Annapolis since that year, he served as Acting Director of the Integrated Liberal Arts Curriculum at St. \1ary's College, California, from 1964 to 1966. �Hell: Paolo And Francesca* By ROBERTS. BART This is the Dead End of our Dead Vleek. We have all been in Don Rags and perhaps it is not inappropriate that we are going to spend this evening in Hell. And ,·et it is mY hope that it will not be Hell for us. In fact, looking forward to our discussion together in the question period, I am confident that it will not be Hell. How is it possible that we can be in Hell, and yet not be there, too? You know the answer of course: we will be in Hell by s•irtue of our imaginations, for images are both what they are and not what they are. The world is full of images, images of all kinds. Shadows and reflections are images. Some people look alike. All men look more like one another than they look like fish or flowers. But not only do we find images around us, we make. them. A portrait, for instance, is an image of a man: it looks like a man. If we were to point to a picture of a man and ask a child, "\Vhat is that?", it is likely that he would say, "A man." I know I would. It is so easy to accept the fact that the being of any specific image is the being of what it images. The picture is a man, and yet it is not. We do not mistake it for a man; we do not respond to it in the same ways that we respond to a man. \Ve do not think of talking to it, or embracing it. We examine it, we study it, as we examine and study no man. Suppose, for example, we walked into the living room at home and found the beautiful Olympia stretched out nude on the sofa, just as she is in Manet's picture. We would, I assume, beat a hasty retreat in confusion. And, I guess, Olympia would not remain unaffected bv our entrance and continue to 'present herself so totally, so completely without· reserve to our contemplation and study. If she could seem to, she would be putting on an act. · Thus, although man is the proper study of man, no man can approach another man with the same liberty that he can approach the image of a man. That liberty is felt as a freedom from the respect, the reverence, even the love which is owed by us to all men. It is rude to stare at your neighbors, or to make personal remarks about them. But t\·erything in a pictUre is there to be seen and commented on. Pictures have no embarrassing secrets and we need have no modestv or courtesy about asking them to yield up all their truths: it is not a matter of *A lecture given in Annapolis at St. John's College in February, 1967. impertinence. All that is needed is to know how to let the questions take shape and grow from one another, and all from what is before our eyes. Moreover, unlike the real world, images do not require immediate action of us: they only ask our understanding. Since the\· onh· ha,·e a borrm:ved being, we need not react to them as we· must to what they image. In a picture we can behold the Crucifixion or the J\.1assacre of the Innocents, free from the summons to active participation. That is a relief, and an opportunity. \:Vere we presented with the events themselves, there is some probability, is there not, that we would be confused by the situation, as others have been, and play the fool, the coward or the knave? But since the pictures are but shadows, we are spared the responsibility of immediate action: we can cast away the crutch of prejudice and acknowledge that our opinions are but opinions, while we search the pictures freely for what they mean. I do not mean, however, that this detachment is dispassionate. If what we beheld in imagination did not talk to ns about our lives and the real world we live in, it could not move us and involve us in its illusion. It would be more remote from us than the animals in the zoo. If, for example, in Giotto's Massacre of the Innocents, the long pointed sword levelled at the helpless child did not sear our souls and all but make us catch our breaths, we would not have seen the picture. Yet that motion of the soul is utterly different in its kind from any we would experience if we were present. \Vhether emotions of horror, f.ear, or rage possessed us, \Ve would never let our hungry eyes search every detail of the scene for the mere sake of knowing it completely. The special gift of the imagination is that it lets us for a moment separate acting from what we feel and think. Through the distance it provjdes, we can bear to behold what we might otherwise find unendurable, whether it is the beauty of life or its terror. Furthermore, if we are \villing to reflect on v,rhat we have felt and thought as we \vatched, we may learn things about ourselves hidden from us when we act. Hmv we respond to an image is not irrelevant to hmv we respond when face to face. The imagination then can be an instrument for learning. If I should read you all of Dante's Hell, we would fancy ourselves together in the \'ast scene that his \VOrds present, though we would hear no sighs, feel nci heat, no blast 7 �The College of wind or burning sand and ice. Hell would be before us and yet we would not be in it. We would be immobile, and yet we would be moved. We would feel strange feelings, shadows of real feelings, for they would not prompt us to action as real feelings do. We would not be so much paralyzed or chained, as at rest from initiating action, at leisure, our minds alert and questioning, our wills not asleep but at play, as we apprehend and respond. \Ve would be perplexed and amazed, and again, satisfied with the delight of understanding; we would judge, too, liking this or that character, approving and disapproving this action or that word, praising and blaming as we went along. But as it is, I shall only read a tiny part of the whole, the fifth of thirty-four cantos. I shall read this canto so that ,,,e may I-iave it in common to discuss together. Understanding is our unique goal. Just as we may rejoice in the illuminating way that horror is presented in a play like Oedipus, because the truth, even in the small parts of it that we can grasp, is always a joy, despite the distress with which we have had to seek it and the disillusionment we have felt when we have mistaken it, so the truth about sin, if we can but find it, and know it when we have found it, will be for us a light in the darkness, even though sin itself is the only darkness in the luminous splendor of creation. If we are in Hell tonight, it will be above all because our minds are taken up with Hell, and our discourse, now and in the question period, will all reflect one particular image of it. Dante and his guide, the poet Virgil, have entered the gate of Hell with its terrible inscription: You that are entering, abandon every hope. They have crossed the river Acheron, passed through the first circle and visited the noble castle, the eternal dwelling of great poets, heroes and philosophers. Now they come to Minos the judge, in the second circle. Thus I descended from the first circle down into the second, which bounds a smaller space and so much more of pain that goads to wailing. There stands Minos horrible, snarling, examines their offences at the entrance, judges and dispatches them as he girds himself; I mean that when the ill-born soul somes before him it confesses all, and that discerner of sins s·ees what is the place for it in Hell and encircles himself with his tail as many times as the grades he will have it sent down. Always before him is a crowd of them; they go each in turn to the judgment; thcv speak and hear and then are hurled below. "0 thou who comest to the abode of pain," 1\1inos said \vhen he smv me, leaving the business of his great office, "Look how thou enterest and in whom. thou trustest; let not the breadth of the entrance deceive thee." 8 And my Leader said to him: "\~Thy dost thou make an outcry? Hinder not his fated journey. It is so willed where will and power are one; and ask no more." Now the notes of pain began to reach my ears; now I am come where great wailing breaks on me. I came to a place where all light was mute and where was bellowing as of a sea in tempest that is beaten by conflicting winds. The hellish storm never resting, seizes and drives the spirits before it; smiting and whirling them about, it torments them. \~'hen they come before its fury there are shrieks, weeping and lamentation, and there they blaspheme the power of God; and I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to desire. As in the cold season their wings bear the starlings in a broad, dense flock, so does the wind blast the wicked spirits. Hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them; no hope ever comforts them, not to say of rest, but of less pain. And as the cranes go chanting their lays, making of themselves a long line in the air, so I saw approach with long-drawn 1vailings shades borne on these battling winds, so that I said, "Master, who are these people whom the black air so scourges?" "The first among those of whom thou wouldst know" he said to me then "was Empress of peoples of many tongues, who was so corrupted by licentious vice that she made lust lawful in her law to take away the scandal into which she was brought; she is Semiramis, of whom we read that she succeeded Ninus, being his wife, and held the land which the Soldan rules. The next is she who slew herself for love and broke faith with the ashes of Sychaeus, and then wanton Cleopatra; see Helen, for whose sake so many years of ill revolved; and see the great Achilles, who fought at the last with love; see Paris, Tristan-" and he showed me mme than a thoussand shades, naming them as he pointed, whom love parted from our life. \Vhen I heard my Teacher name the knights and ladies of old times, pity came upon me and I was as one bewildered. I began: "Poet, I would fain speak with these two that go together and seem so light upon the wind." And he said to me: "TI10u shalt see when they are nearer to us, and do thou entreat them theTI by the love that leads them, and they will come." As soon as the wind bent their course to us I raised mv voice: "0 wearied souls, come and speak with us, if One forbids it not." As doves, summoned by desire, come with �July 1971 J\1inos . .. examines their offences at the entrance. wings poised and motionless to the sweet nest, borne by their will through air, so these left the troop where Dido is, coming to us through the malignant air; such force had my loving call. "0 living creature gracious and friendly, who goest through the murky air visiting us who stained the world with blood, if the King of the universe were our friend, we would pray to Him for thy peace, since tho·u hast pity on our evil plight [mal perverso J. Of that which thou art pleased to hear and speak we will hear and speak with you while the wind is quiet, as here it is. The city where I was born lies on the shore where the Po, with the streams that join it, descends to rest. Love, which is quickly kindled in the gentle heart, seized this ·man for the fair form that was taken from me, and the manner afllicts me still. Love, which absolves no one beloved from loving, seized me so strongly with his charm that, as thou seest, it does not leave me vet. Love brought us to one death. Caina waits for him who quenched our life." 1l1ese words were borne from them to us. And when I heard these offiicted souls I bent my head and held it down so long that at last the Poet said to me: "\'Vhat are thy thoughts?" \Vhen I answered I began: "Alas, how many sweet thoughts, how great desire, brought them to the woeful pass!" Then.! turned to them again to speak and began: "Francesca, thy torments make me weep for grief and pity, but tell me, in the time of your sweet sighing how and by what occasion did love grant you to know your uncertain desires?" She answered me: "There is no greater pain than to recall the happy time in misery, and this thy teacher knows; but if thou hast so great desire to know our love's first root, I shall tell as one may that weeps in telling. Vve read one day for pastime of Lancelot, how love constrained him. \'Ve were alone and had no misgiving. Many times that reading drew our eyes together and changed the color in our faces, but one point alone it was that mastered us; when he read that the longed-for smile was kissed by so great a lover, he who never shall be parted from me, all trembling, kissed my mouth. A Galeotto was the book and he that wrote it; that day we read in it no farther." While the one spirit said this the other wept so that for pi tv I swooned as if in death and dropped like a dead body. [Translator, John D. Sinclair] Pity overcame Dante. He tells us: \:Vhile Francesca spoke, Paolo wept so that I swooned for pity, as though I had died, and I fell down like a dead body. 9 �The College Again, at the beginning of the sixth canto, he speaks of the return of thought which had shut itself up in the face of the pathos of the two, the brother and sister-in-law. \\That stirs this pity? The terrible plight of the two lovers, buffeted by the black wind, blown about forever in the dark, without hope of rest, tossed '"On the blast lightly, like feathers or leaves, they lighter than all the rest. They are infinitely weary, weary of the motion and the noise. Francesca knows no greater means to express her appreciation for Dante's first kind greeting than to say that if she could, she would pray for Dante's peace. She fancies the whole world is as weary as she is, so that when she is describing her home a·s situated near the mouth of the Po, she is naturally led to speak of the river and its tributaries as seeking peace in the open sea, an end to the rushing of turbulent waters. If only she could find peace, too! The pathos of the lovers is heightened by their gratitude for the hint of commiseration in Dante's greeting. He, a visitor, with a poet's imagination, knows what they feel and he says to them: 0 wearied souls, come talk with us. He has but to speak these words and Francesca calls him gracious and kind, regretting that they cannot invoke the blessing of peace on him. She welcomes his pity. Now pity, I think, tends to imply a superiority to the person pitied. \Ve pity those who are worse off than ourselves, those who are poorer, weaker, sadder than we are. \Ve pity the sick, the helpless, the young. \Ve feel pity for suffering and deprivation. But when we suffer ourselves as much as others, we tend to withdraw our pity; and wheri we are in immediate fear of what they are suffering, we may shut up our hearts and even do violence to those who might otherwise command our pity. The plague of Athens shows us such terrible scenes. Any panic may, as hen a ship sinks, or fire breaks out in· a crowd. Thus, to a calculatin.g soul, pity is a luxury, an indulgence reserved for the rich, for the fortunate, for those whom life has favored. Pride may even reject the offer of pity as an intended humiliation. Not so Francesca: her quick response to Dante's pity opens the way for ours. She reveals at once how much she longs to talk, and her gratitude shows her goodness as well as her need. Our pity for the suffering of good V11 of forces beyond themselves that are responsible for their undoing. It is not, it seems to me, that Francesca is seeking to justify herself ~nd Paolo. Nothing she says makes me feel that she thmks thetr acts need justification. Did they not give themselves to love? Could there be a higher commrtment? Nevertheless, they have been subjected to vwlence, and they. are deeply a:-vare of their own pathos. Paolo cannot get hrs fill of weepmg. They express gratitude to Dante just because he has pity on what Francesca c;;Jls "our perverse misfortune." He shows himself therebv a friend. If only the king of the universe were their friend! But he is not, as she says; and she shows it by her story. She tells that story in three swift stanzas: Love, which is swiftly kindled in a gentle heart. seized this man with the beautiful body which was taken from me; and the manner afflicts me still. Love, which absolves no one who is 1ored from loving, seized me so strongly with his charm, that as you see, even now it does not leave me. Love led us to one death: Caina waits for him who quenched our life. The word Love begins each of the three stonzas. Love dominates the whole story. First it seized on Paolo, using her beauty as its means. And then it seized on her, using her delight in him. Finally it led them both to one death. Love is the protagonist. Love did this to them. They were acted on by it: in themselves they were essentially passive. Consent is not even mentioned. 'This is perhaps the the most pathetic aspect of their tale. \Ve are pitied for what happens to us even more than for what we do ourselves. \Ve pity the helpless, and we pity Paolo and Francesca as helpless, helpless in the face of their passion. The word passion derives from the same roots as the word passive, from the \vords in Latin and Greek that mean to suffer. Perhaps we are inclined to think of ourselves as most active and alive when we are moved by passion, but does that not disregard the distinction between what prompts us from without and what \Ve originate of our own? Francesca makes it cle3r that their love was passion in the sense of something that seized upon them, that found them as a pas;in· material. A gentle heart is swiftly fired with loYe: ler it but meet with beauty and it is inflamed. In Francesca's account the word Love is made the subject of verbs of force and violence. Later on she "'" of Lancelot, too: men is deeper than the promiscuous sentiment which ern- braces from a distance all the victims of a general disaster. \Ve prefer to like those whom we pity. \Vithout prompting, Francesca interprets Dante's request as an invitation to recount their grief. It is the story she tells which places the .greatest claim on Dante's pity, and ours. In it she and Paolo appear as victims, victims 10 \Ve read how love constrained Lance! at. And of their reading about that ill-fated lm·er, she san lv!anv 'times it drove our eyes to· meet, but it was jus·t one point which conquered us. �July 1971 Love itself leads, seizes and constrains; even the reading about love drives and conquers. I think we all know just what she means. Virgil did when he showed Dido burning with unrestrained desire for Aeneas, contrary to prudence, her country's interest and her own solemn vows. But Venus is a goddess whose might is not to be scorned. 'Nhatever her correct name and the nature of her power it is something not subject to our command, something whose im~;act we acknowledge at once and often praise, but also fear. For we must not confuse the loveliness of Aphrodite, or her fondness for youth and beauty, with her ways, which are not, it seems to me, always gentle or kind. In the Symposium Agathon calls Eros tender, because he associates with the tender. But that is bad logic. Most of us hm·e known moments of \'lo1ence in love, and sooner or ·later, in ourselves or in others we hav·e seen how ruthless Aphrodite can be, how implacable. She tells us so herself in the beginning of the Hippolytus: Mighty am I among mortals, and not without a name; and so it is too among the gods. If we have any doubt what she means, that play shows us. Francesca, too, proclaims the power of love. She says, Love, which absolves no one who is loved from loving, seized me so strongly with his charm, that as you see, even now it does not leave me. Love, she argues, begets love by its very nature. Imitation is the natural response of the beloved. Love cannot pardon that heart which turns away from it: it is a force, a force more overwhelming than beauty, for it has the power to condemn: Love . . . absolves no one who rs loved from loving. Beauty appeals to the gentle heart, but it is not a god. Love is, and thus is inescapable. It is death not to .return love. On the other hand, love returned has eternal life. Francesca says: Even now it does not leave me. the deformed or crippled son of the ruler of neighboring Rimini, presumably for political reasons. She and her brother-in-law Paolo fell in love. Francesa's tale leads ns to infer that her husband surprised them and killed them together. She says he will be in Caina when he dies. Cain a is named for Cain: it is a part of the lowest depths of Hell, a frozen pit where Dante finds fixed in the ice those who are guilty of betraying their relatives. Terrible were the consequences of their following the rule and the logic of love, Paolo responding to Francesca's beauty, she to his love and his beauty. They paid love all its rites, and now they find themselves in Hell. That is what they mean by their "perverse misfortune": the whole world was ordered against their love. Theirs is a tragic pathos. Love imposed itself on them and they gave themselves to its high laws wholeheartedly. They risked everything to giv·e it life. But that love was only a challenge to the world as it is ordered, a moving defiance not destined to bring them a joy as lasting as the love itself. They were fated to a tragic end. Part of their nobility is that although they weep in Hell, they do not whine. They do not protest. They are dignified in defeat, not humiliated by their condition as outcasts. Unlike others Dante will meet, they do not demean themselves with obscene and empty protest. They speak of the power arrayed against them with the formal respect that sovereigns show who have fallen out and gone to war, but maintain the tone of former relations. Their enemy is still a king to them. If only they did not happen to be his enemies, they would sue to him for Dante's peace. They have something of the fierceness of the ancient heroes, too, when they think of the man who quenched their life: there is a quiver of deep hate and satisfaction at the revenge which his destiny will provide. That is almost the last word in Francesca's account; it is brief, final, as .cold as the pit where he will be found. Their love is tragic precisely because the king of the universe is not their friend. They do not have in their hands the power to control the world, nor does the love to which they gave themselves. The basis of the tragedy is that there are many gods, and no justice. The only justice they can find in the world is that their murder will be revenged; but they too must endure the endless frustration and darkness of Hell. Dante may have pity on them; the king of the universe will not. \Vhatever name we give to him, Zeus, Fate, Necessity, he is in- Yet love led them to death together. Mere spirits now in Hell, in the world above they had their place in the public eye. Paolo was an able and attractive man, Captain of the People in Florence when Dante was 17, shortly before the murder took place. Dante knew Francesca's nephew well. He was the lord of Ravenna and Dante lived as his guest during the last period of his long and bitter exile from Florence. Theirs is a shocking story, virtually unknown except for what Francesca tells us. She hersel( speaks of her beauty, and yet she was married to different to the things we cherish most. \Ve have come to the low point of our study, to the dark valley in which the tragic view of the world has us in its chilling grip. There is no consolation to be seen beyond the splendor of noble and dignified resistance to the ruler of the universe, who is no friend of love. Our pity has developed and revealed its close alliance with fear. \Ve pity while we think we are exempt or superior; we only begin to fear when we see we are in danger ourselves. As we ca·me closer to Paolo and Francesca, our pity ll �The College The hellish storm never resting, seJZes and drives the spirits before it. is not exempt from a shudder of terror at their fate. Who is safe from the catastrophe of love, whether it come by way of a disastrous commitment like theirs, or by way of resistance or renunciation like Hippolytus'? If love has the power to command and yet leads to Hell, what justice is there? Is it only by chance we can hope to escape? Is the king of the universe a friend of. ours? If not, are we prepared to resist nobly? D~ we want to? These questions press us hard, too. If the whole world is arrayed against Jove and yet encourages and even constrains us to be lovers, we must indeed search ourselves to know what part we can and should sustain in the tragedy, be it that of the hero or the nurse, of the chorus that weeps or the one whose choice makes the catastrophe inevitable. • • * • • lament. So far we have listened to the story as Francesca intends us to hear it, and even the translation, not to mention the original, shows her to be an accomplished poet. Now if poetry and the imagination, as I have claimed, have powers that can lead to understanding and right action, it is also the case that the abuse of those powers can lead to confusion and sin. Poetry, like love, may invite imitation, but the invitation cannot be accepted uncritically. I wonder if the poet Dante does not intend us to find out things about Francesca that she in her tragic abandon cannot see and only reveals involuntarily. Her poetry is contained within his. She speaks from Hell. Dante the poet contrived his encounter with Francesca among the damned. 'Nhy is she there? Is Hell only, as she imagines, the place where a triumphant tyrant thrusts his vanquished opponents? Or is there something damning about Francesca that works to withdraw her from our pity, no matter how appealing her figure may be? The premise of our pity for Paolo and Francesca is not only their suffering, but its injustice. We feel an immediate pity for the frustrated love of two beautiful people, who respond to one another with sensitivity; we feel revulsion at the disproportion between Francesca's beauty and the deformity and violence of her husband Gianciotto. But that pity would be tninsformed entirely, it might even disappear, if their suffering were felt to be just. It seems to me that if we are to find anything but a pagan tragedy in the story of Paolo and Francesca, it will have to be by finding some reason to question the assumption they make that they are the victims of injustice. It may seem unjust that they who fit so well together should be barred from the union they so desire, barred, as some may say, by convention. But are they in Hell only because they committed adultery? Dante is silent about their crime. That might be because they were such prominent figures in his day that he could take it for granted it was well known to his readers. But there are adulterers in his Heaven: no less a person than King David, for one. Dante's silence, as well as Francesca's, in\'ites us to seek in her mvn words for a deeper source But there is a prior question: granting that Francesca sees their story as a tragedy, is there no alternative to her view? Let us not hasten to her fearful conclusion. Let us beware of the seduction of the imagination, of the impulse to adopt the tragic pose, to sound the pathetic 12 of her losing her. way and becoming forever lost. Can we see misdirection even in \Vhat she says about love? If we could, we would see adultery as a mere symptom of a more fatal disease, a symptom Da-nte himself need not mention by·name, since he reveals the malady itself. �July 1971 This is not a simple task and I may easily make mistakes in carrying it out. Even where I do not err, it may not be easy to follow: our prejudices are deeply involved. But Dante expected that: in fact, here on the threshold of Hell, he has done his best to involve them directly in order that we may become aware of them and know them for what they are. I hope that in trying to follow him 1Ve may come to agree at least that it is not necessary to share the tragic view of those whom he pictures as doomed to spend eternity in Hell. The fundamental question is the question of justice: is there a just proportion between the Jot of Paolo and Francesca and the love they have given themselves to? But first, what is that love? Let me take as a clue the follo\\'ing question: why are Paolo and Francesco so pleased by Dante's affectionate appeal, that they leave their place in the long file of souls and swoop down with the combi- as though he had heard them both. Yet only Francesco had spoken. Again, though he says a few minutes later I turned back to them and spoke he actually begins, Francesca, thy torments and yet he means the torments of them both. They are before him in an indissoluble unity, much as in that tragi-comic fable Aristophanes tells at the banquet at Agathon's, when the absurd half-men that we are in that myth, clinging together in longing, beg Hephaistos to weld them finally into one great round body again, to go skipping and tumbling nimbly on four feet and four hands, forgetting their distress for one another. nation of tenderness and eagerness that Dante remembers in the dove returning to its nest, just before it alights, while with wings outspread it glides to rest where its hearts directs it. If they are all in all to one another, what need have they of him? Are they not still together? Certainly that is the very first thing we are told about them: Poet [says Dante J I would gladly talk with those two that go together. Is it not a consolation that they are companions forever, a compensation for what was denied them in life? Francesco exults in the fact: it is the measure of the Jove she has aroused in Paolo. Vi'hen she describes their first kiss she says, When we read that the longed-for smile was kissed by so great a lover, he who shall never be parted from me, all trembling kissed my mouth. The kiss of Lancelot, immortalized by the poet, is imitated by the kiss of Paolo, which is an eternal bond between him and Francesco. But they are even more intimately together than at first appears. Francesco says: I will be like one who weeps and speaks. In fact, however, that task is divided between the two of them. Paolo weeps while Francesco does all the speaking. She says, We will listen and speak to you but only her voice is heard: Paolo's weeping is a constant accompaniment. Yet Dante regularly speaks as though the colloquv were with them both. When Francesco stops for the first time, he says Now supposing [says Aristophanes] Hephaistos were to come and stand over them with his tool bag as they lay there side by side, and suppose he were to ask, Tell me, my dear creatures, what do you really want with one another? And suppose they didn't know what to say and he went on, How would you like to be rolled into one, so that you could always be together, day and night, and never be parted again? Becaus·e, if that is what you want, I can easily weld you together, and then you can live your two lives in one, and when the time comes, you can die a common death, and still be two-in-one in the lower world. Now what do you say? Is that what you'd like me to do? And would you be happy if I did? V\le may be sure, gentlemen, that no lover on earth would dream of refusing such an offer, for not one of them could imagine a happier fate. Indeed, they would be convinced that this was just what they'd been waiting for, to be merged that is, into utter oneness with the beloved. [Translator, M. Joyce] Paola and Francesco have achieved what Aristophanes' lovers desire. Let me take another image, one that Dante himself suggests when on the mount of Purgatory he again encounters the sin of lust. There one of the bands of sinners says b)' way of explanation that their sin was hermaphroditic. As the context shows, he means that it was between man and woman, but without regard for human law and proportion. \\Thy does he call that lust hermaphroditic? Paolo and Francesco give us the clue. As Ovid tells the tale in his Metamorphoses, Hermaphrodite was a beautiful young man, the son of Hermes and Aphrodite. One \Vhen I heard these afflicted souls da~' a water nymph, Salmacis, saw him and at once fell in love with his beauty. He refus·ed her advances. 13 �The College But then, as he was swimming in a pool unawares, she flung herself about him in a tight embrace. He struggled to escape her grasp. But she called on the gods in prayer: Let no day divide him from me, or me from him. And the gods granted her request: the two grew into one so that, as Ovid says, They were not two but a double form ... neither and both they seemed. This is the two-in-oneness Paolo and Francesca have achieved. Even their death was one, as Francesca says; and they subsist in death as one, remembering with tears the day when love bound them together forever. Francesca says of her companion, This man who will never be divided from me; just as she says that her love for him still does not abandon her. They are together forever with the same love they always had. \Vhy is that not enough for them? Need I ask, with the wind blowing them about in the darkness, mere wraiths unable to give one another the comfort and joy of their bodies, that were torn from them when they left the sweet bright light above? But is it only because they lack bodies that they turn to Dante? Do they not in that motion reveal a hunger which the body can never fill? Aristophanes said no lovers could imagine a happier fate than to be together, as Paolo and Francesca are together, in life and in death. ~-But that is not the experience of Paolo and Francesca. \Ve cannot forget the pathos of their haunting figures. Dante cannot hear them speak without being moved to tears. He faints at the end. They frankly claim his pity with their tears. _,,~ \Vhat can his pity be to them? Does not Paolo pro, vide for Francesca a sympathy that is complete because his case is identical? No, apparently not. What is it that is missing in Paolo? Is he not the perfect listener? He weeps throughout, and no one better than he can appreciate every nuance in what Francesca says. They are so close that she can speak for him; he can listen for her; his tears are her tears. But, by a simple and drastic substitution we may say: she is talking to herself, he is listening to himself, weeping for himself, weeping the tears of self-pity. Like everyone else in Hell, Paolo and Francesca are SOIT)' only for themselves, each for himself. Their union has destroyed their individual integrity and their being together is a dazzling deception. Their predicament is parallel to that of Ovid's Narcissus, who feD in love vhth his own image, when he 14 saw it mirrored m a spring. On discovering his plight he says: I am burning with Jove for myself; I kindle the fire and I feel its heat. \Vhat am I to do? Shall I entreat, or wait to be entreated? But what shall I ask for? \Vhat I desire is with me. My riches make me poor. 0 that I could secede from our body. It is a novel prayer for a lover, but I wish that what we love were not here. Like self-love, self-pity is hard to understand. If it were not a familiar fact, I would hesitate to propose anything so strange. Pity is something we seem to feel for another; it tends, I think, to be felt for someone suffering what we are exempt from. It implies a detachment from the actual experience of the sufferer. How then is self-pity possible? Perhaps it is by virtue of the imagination. I notice that I seem to feel pity most readily for characters in a movie, or a book. Perhaps then self-pity is possible just because we think of ourselves as figures in a story. That happens especially when we make poetry of our sufferings in telling them to someone else. We detach ourselves from ourselves by the imagination, as though we were watching ourselves in a play, and in that attitude we behold ourselves in fascination, imprisoned in passivity by our being spectators. \Ve cannot act as long as the trance of self-pity endures, any more than we can at the theatre. But does our pity for the self we imagine bring consolation? I think not; for pity sees its object as helpless and weak. Self-pity rivets attention on what has been suffered, on the past, on defeat; it annihilates hope and the possibility of action. Yet it is only in action that men can find happiness. Self-pity arrests acti<m in the beholder, encourages despair in the self beheld. In itself it is infinite. It gives neither the joy of consoling nor of being consoled. It is a form of self-abuse and we rightly feel humiliated by it. Meanwhile we have exhausted our capacity to love what is not the self, by turning it back reflexively through the imagination on the self. Love and self-pity are incompatible. What pity can Paolo have for Francesca, or she for him, that is not drowned in the great sea of pity each feels for himself? But is it really pity Francesca wants? Pity implies distance, superiority, condescension. Pity is even com- patible with stern judgement. Francesca wants the solidarity that comes from sharing what one has been suffering alone. She wants sympathy. What is the difference' Sometimes we use the word pity ambiguously as though it were a synonym for sympathy; sometimes, e\'en, we accept expressions of pity for those of sympathy, espcciall1· if they echo our own self-pity. But if pity implies that the one \vho pities is not experiencing what the sufferer is, then it can easily be distinguished from S\·mpatl~,-­ which always feels exactly what the sufferer feels. Yet sympathy is a relation between two distinct· persons: 1f �July 1971 Dante: "Pcet, I would fain speak 11·it/; these two that go together." self-pity i; :ncTIStrous, self-sympathy is impossible. Sympathy- ~ like a musical octav.e: two. different _voices sounding tht o;:occe tone. Its form rs duality, the ratm 1:2. By contrast ?::-y is like a concordant mterval, two VOI~es sounding d::'tce:;t but intimately related tones. Self-prty, as distinct £-:-::n pitY, is not any interval at all, not even unison. Fe :: E;Jlson is an inten,al, it still requires two voices ::e: ~G:.:~d. \Yhile in self-pity there is only the one voice, and ::.~ ·.•:t2r".somc echo. Perhaps I ::;, 0 ~luitratc the difference I intend between pity and ss-rc.~:l:·: br tsro episodes from Herodotus. When his vast am:-' ~c:' oeet were gathered at the Hellespont Xerxe; c.c_,c,ci to look upon all his bast; so, as there -,.·c: < :~.:one of white marble upon a hill near t~.~ :::-. -.··hich thcv of Abydos had prepared bt'•cctc.:· ~-the bng's bidding, for his o• e:.o;:;:::·~: _:.-:. ~(:GC.5 took his seat on it, and, gaz- inc the:.:e ·cc-:o the shore below, beheld at one vr;._,_. '-· '-' ·:c"d forces and all his ships . . . . Ad r.:- ,, '"looked and saw the whole Hellespc,c,' :: ':cc ·':! 1 the s-csscls of his fleet, and all ll.c ·- ., ·-: o.n pl:~in about Abydos as full 2' : · _ c - c," '<;, f'lS congratulated hrmself or. ·.:: _ :c:unc: but after a little while he v:c--:::. There came upon me a sudden pity, when I thought of the shortness of man's life and considered that of all this host so numerous as it is, not one will be alive when a hundred vears are ' gone by. Xerxes pities man for the shortness of his life: it is a generic pity far from any sympathy for an individual soldier. For just a few pages earlier we read of Pythius the Lydian, who won great favor with Xerxes by offering him all his Yast treasure of money. Yet when Pvthius asked Xerxes to sp3re one of his five sons from sen,ice so he could remain at home, Xerxes was enraged and commanded his men to seek out the eldest of the som of Pythius and having cut his body asunder, to place the two halves, one on the right, the other on the left of the great road, so that the army might march out between them. Thus he granted Pythius' request. This savage jest may il]m:trate how far his pit~' \V8S from any sharing in the sufferings of other men. His pitv depended on the height of his throne above the scene that moved him to tears. Francesca longs to share her grief. If she is to get beyond the sterilitY of self-pity, there must be someone else besides herself, a listener who will see independently, and 15 �The College yet agree with her and respond as she does. Making poetry out of her suffering is not enough: through its means she wants to bring Dante, and all the world, to share what they have experienced. The tyranny of her relationship to Paolo excludes him as that listener: Paolo's words are her words, and as such have no power to refresh her. None of the rest of the spirits are any better. Men are made to live together, but in Hell everyone is alone. Even though the spirits in this circle flock together, they are like starlings and cranes, mere birds that feel no affection for one another. They move as a bunch, all subject to the same rule, all blown by the same wind, but that bunch is made of heartless individuals, each unmoved by the other. From this circle on down Hell is a city best: easy, effortless, spontaneous and joyful. But by the g·entle heart Francesca seems to mean one that falls quickly in love and is easily inflamed with desire, prepared by reading and other occupations to welcome and cultivate appetite. Such would seem to be the case of Lancelot, and of Paolo and Francesca. The gentleness of heart she is thinking of is mere intensity of feeling and passion, not the fruit of reflection and art. The beauty which moved her and Paolo, she tells us, was physical beauty, and the activity was that of ungoverned sexual desire. Dante put it another way when he wrote the sonnet that begins: Love that in my thoughts discourses, without citizens; no one acknowledges a bond with anyone else. They are all caught in the loneliness of indifferent and often degrading company. Below Limbo what speech they exchange can give them no joy, no relief. No one listens. There is no one to talk to. Dante on the other hand is alive. The first thing Francesca says is: "0 living creature." Being alive, he can still feel sympathy. He can listen, and understand and care. In all that company he alone can weep with them: all the rest are deaf. \Vhat does she say in the last words of hers that will reach a living ear? She tells him about their love, beginning each time from a universal proposition and moving to their particular case. Love [she says] . . . is quickly kindled in the gentle heart. Now there is a famous sonnet of Dante's that begins, in much the same way: Love and the gentle heart are one. Dante wrote a commentary on his sonnet to show that he meant that the heart is a material whose proper form or act is love, just as the eye is material to the . act of sight. The act of love is the proper form of the gentle heart. The Italian word can mean more than gentle, tender or soft; it suggests that delicacy and rightness of feeling which is cultivated by education and training, a combination of goodness of manners and goodness of heart. A heart that is what a heart should be, will act in love. Beauty, the sonnet says, is what brings it to this activity. The words of Francesca are similar. But there is ambiguity about what they mean. They may mean that a heart disciplined by philosophy and the arts, religion and the sonnet which the musician Casella sings just after the souls land in Purgatory. Love discourses, or reasons, as the Italian puts it, using reason and discourse synonymously, just as Greek uses logos for both rational thought and speech. Love discourses. Animals, on the other hand, feel the power of sexual desire without discourse. But since reason is intervvoven with our very being, we are incapable of this separation. There is always the question of consent for us. A dog or a pig has not the privileges and responsibilities of consent to what he experiences as an uncontrollable drive. V.' e, in consenting or refusing consent, acknowledge a principle of good, or disregard it, in every act. That is the role of reason in our actions. Vi'hen we make the distinction between love and sex, it seems to me that we mean that love, unlike sex, is always in easy communion with reason and discourse. I do not mean that love is always talking, though lovers usually talk a lot. I do not mean to underestimate the love that expresses itself in silence. But an account can be given of love, an account which aims to make sense and show how it is good. Reason is the connection between action and the good. \Vhen we give the reasont we show how it is good. Now to give an account of a love is to show its order with respect to the whole. Sexual pleasure is only one of many goods: obviously, we need not condemn sex to prefer something else to it in a given moment, or in a given relationship. Vi'hen love discourses, it includes the whole world in its discourse. In the ceremony of marriage and its vows a certain kind of love is ordered to the family, to society, and to God. The discourse of reason is universal; it is open to a1l \vho can understand it. Paolo and Francesca's "love," on the other hand, is entireh· secret and private. That is not merely because it is illegal or dangerous. J'-.:either Paolo nor Francesca seems good m~mncrs is easily moved to act in love, for that is to me so timid or so conventional as to give '"'eight to the natural mode of the heart set free by all those means and guided by the truth they instill. The love may be a love of wisdom or the state, the love of the home or the the law or to danger beside the great fact of their will and their desire. Their love is private because they see it as concerning them alone. They think it is their business and no one else's. The look which they exchanged on that fate· ful day included nothing but themselves; it excluded arts, the love of a parent or the love of a man for a woman, but it will be gracious and· graceful, human action at its 16 �July 1971 \Vhile Francesca spoke, Paolo wept so that I swooned for pity. • everything bevond their consent to one another's desire. 1\:aturally, then, Francesca's tale makes no mention of her adultery as such. \Vhen she speaks of their region in Hell, \vhich is designated by Dante as the place of carnal sinners who subject reason to desire, Francesca says that Dante is visiting those who stained the world with blood. For her the salient feature of her fate is the violence of her death, not that it was the outcome of disorderly lust. When she says of her violent death, "the manner of it affiicts me still," I wonder if she does not have in mind the shocking and terrible way in which their sweet secrecy was invaded by an alien and external world, in the person of her husband. Their nakedness was exposed, their privacy was outraged and profaned by what in her opinion had no place in it, no right to intrude. Love for her is entirely exclusive. It is a striking thing that Francesca does not mention her husband except as "the one who extinguished our life." Vllhen. she does mention him, she gloats that he will pay for his violence with torments worse than what ·they themselves are enduring. She does not hint of her marriage, nor Paolo's, nor the children which each of them had. They do not figure in her tale. In framing her account of Jove, its power and its requirements, Fran- cesca succeeds in hiding from herself, and perhaps from us, any other obligations she may have. The supremacy of her love for Paolo is unquestioned. It leaves no room for her to remember anything else. But is love something we can restrict thus to ourselves? \Vhat did their love do to the lives they touched on? \Ve may guess by looking at their companions in Hell, for their lives are recorded in poetry and history. Paris and Helen \W> know well, Helen "for whose sake so many vears of ill revolved," as Virgil says to Dante. Think for moment of the horrors Homer tells: the spear in the throat or the bladder; the severed head rolling between the legs of the men as they fight; the tug of war over Patroclus' body. See Helen,· Virgil says to Dante. And a wanton Cleopatra dressed Antony in her own clothes, while she played with his sword. In the· end she drove him on to make the fatal choice between love and empire, setting up the private in open conflict with the public. At Actium the battle was joined for the whole world, with her and Antony on one side, and cold Octavian on the other. The battle was still undecided when she deserted her lover, and he followed in her wake. Here it was [says Plutarch] that Antony showed to all the world that he was no longer actuated by the thoughts and motives of a commander or a man, or indeed by his own judgment at all, and what was once said as a jest, that the soul of a lover lies in someone else's body, he proved to be a serious truth. For, as if he had been born part of her and must move wheresoever she went, as soon as he saw her ship sailing away, he abandoned all that were fighting and spending their Jives for him ... to follow her that had so well begun his ruin and would hereafter accomplish it. 17 �The College Semiramis, as Virgil says, was so corrupted by licentious vice that she made lust lawful in her law, to take away the scandal into which she was brought. '\Vhile the private individual only subjects reason in himself, though the consequences may be wider, a queen has the power to overthrow reason's expression in the law. S·emiramis subverts the whoie order of society to conceal her disorder and escape censure. But lust cannot serve as law; knowing no order or restraint itself, it can only destroy the order of the family and the peace of the state. The making of such a law brings law itself into disrepute. If law and lust are synonymous, nothing is left but tyranny and the war of every man against every other. Like Semiramis' love, Dido's undid the city she ruled. \Vhen Aeneas comes to Carthage, as the Aeneid says, he marvels at the gateways and hum of the paved streets. The Tyrians are hot at work to trace the walls, to rear the citadel, and roll up great stones by hand, or to choose a place for their dwelling and enclose it with a furrow. They ordain justice and magistrates, and the august senate. Here some are digging harbors, here others lay the deep foundations for theatres, and hew out of the cliff vast columns, the lofty ornaments of the stage to be . . . "Happy they whose city already rises!" cries Aeneas. But Venus intervenes. Dido falls in love with Aeneas. Stung to misery Dido wanders in frenzy all dmvn the city, even as an arrow~stricken deer, whom ... a shepherd has pierced and left the flying steel in her unaware.... No more do the unfinished towers rise, no more do the people exercise in arms, nor work for safe;ty in \Var on harbor or bastion; the works are broken off, vast looming walls, and engines towering into the sky. \Vhen Dido achieves the unioh her frenzy craves, the poet says: That day opened the gate of death and the springs of ill. For Dido reeks not of eye or tongue, nor sets her heart on love in secret; she calls it marriage, and with this word shrouds her blame. Aeneas, recognizing a higher duty than that to his love for Dido, abandons her, and she calls down curses on him and the city he will found: Let no kindness or truce be between the nations [she cries] . .- . I invoke the enmity of 18 shore to shore, . . . sword to sword; let their battles go down to their children's children. In writing this Virgil intends us to see the Punic .,, " as the fulfillment of Dido's curses. Carthage fought • ... ..,.: wars with Rome within 120 years and the strife ·~;.;; ended wrth the utter destruction of Carthage. All tJ 1•• 1,. ·. ing inhabitants were sold as slaves. • ... This ruin is the background of Dante's dt~c-riptw:: of Dido as the one who slew herself in love and broke faith with the ashes of Sychaeus. \Vhen Dido first felt the sting of desire for Aencc•. ,;., swore a solemn oath of eternal faithfulness tu l:c: \._:::~. husband Sychaeus. Her sister urged her to ren>:·o~c". asking Do you think the ashes care for that, or the ghost within the tomb? Dido is inflamed by her sister's words, her passion ;rtr•> and soon she breaks her vow. Dante's words emplu;'.:, that the consequence of Dido's lust is not in an\' !.arm to Sychaeus, since he is dead, but in her going hoc!: on her own word, undermining the integrity of her >pe-e;; L Vi/hat can words mean when promises are made \'oiC ;;: pleasure? The next step from the attack on reason i:: speech is the triumph of unreason in her suicide. Paolo and Francesca belong to Dido's troop. Tirey too sinned in breaking faith, the faith plighted in marrugc. That broken faith is the start of the disorder which rhcr lust brought on the world and themselves. Some c' lt> consequences we can name: a husbana turned murdc-rc'!': children orphaned; the community shocked and pery!nc-'. all the more so because the lovers stood out from othc men by their position and their gifts. It is an illusion th.lt the private can be marked off completely from the puhL:. \Vhen the very nature of man is rational and soci.JL Hu acts can hardly be so private that they do not ha,·e S<•m: effect on the realm of public order, of mutual tmst ,r.: of speech. Semiramis called lust law; Dido called seduor:"" marriage. It is what Francesca does to the word lo•r :<c.: reveals most clearly how radically she rebells against'~""'" 'Ne have already seen her confuse lO\·e and deSJre c:>O< what else is she doing when she says Love . . . absol\'es no one vi·ho is lo\·ed h_,~:: returning that love. Under these highsounding words, does she not_ ·.:.c.. •. she had a duty to return Paolo's lm·e? And IS " ' ' "-suggesting delicately that her desire was the proper rc·r:c~• for his? She' cannot quite say she had a duty to 6"' · �July 1971 self to Paolo merely because be desired her. Yet the words seem to be an acknowledgment of the fact that that is what she did. Is this an account of love? To me it seems an abuse of words that have very different meanings in fact. It is true that love absolves no one who is loved from returning that love. In Dante's view God is love and the whole pity and terror of his Hell is built around the fact that God's love cannot be refused with impunity. God cannot pardon the failure of Paolo and Francesca to return his love. He cannot without violence put himself in their hearts. They have so set their wills toward one another's desire and against God's love, that they have finally shut Him out of their hearts. God's greatest gift to them was liberty, the freedom to reject Him and His world. That rejection is Hell. They have set out like gods, to build a private world of their own. In Greek the word for a private man is idiot. A private world is a world from which reason is banned: idiocy reigns. In Paolo and Francesca the rejection of God is at first a kind of moral laziness. They are all too ready to think that Aphrodite is an irresistible goddess. They elevate their passion into a god and are passive before its demands. At first they submit with enthusiasm. But the passivity of their love wearies them; it makes them weary of each other. In giving themselves up to it, they lose contact with reason, the common bond between men; reason, that by its habit of looking to the good provides a basis on which we can consent in one another's acts; reason, that is the basis of understanding and love. But these are acts, and love for Paolo and Francesca is nothing but wearying passivity in one another's company, without thought of any other opportunity or obligation. And that is Hell. Thus it is that, without being told, Dante immediately understands as soon as he sees the torment, that this is the circle of those who sinned carnally. The sinners are bodies, it would only be superficially different. \Jilere they alive and free to love as they pleased, they would still have to face that loneliness in themselves, their isolation from the community of men. Yet there is a difference between even the worst of lives in this world and the sinners' existence in Hell. As they pass through the Gate of Hell, it commands: Abandon every Hope. In Hell they are in utter hopelessness, something which is never the case in our life. Life without hope is unthinkable. Therefore the spirits in Hell are in a significant way different from us: they have died the death that is the death of the spirit. That is the Hell which is in their souls and of which, as I have suggested, the wind of the second circle is only a specific outward manifestation. Hope is the hope of something good. It is an anticipation of good. It is based on some knowledge of good. If all knowledge of good has been extinguished in a soul, what hope remains? Only the hope of exchanging evils for one another. Such is the state of the souls in Hell. Virgil ·explicitly says they have lost the good of the intellect. The good of the intellect is the truth, but in choosing this name for it, Virgil emphasizes the goodness of truth. Truth is not merely the goal we seek in learning, it is the cause of good in the measure in which it is known. \Jile are apt at times to think of the truth as something like fact, information which implies nothing about its use for good or for evil. Gorgias tries to argue that a teacher of rhetoric, like a teacher of boxing, need teach nothing at all about its use. But what the souls in Hell have lost is the power of the truth as a guide that will lead a man straight, whatever his road, as Dante says of the Sun in the first in endless, restless motion at the mercy of contrary winds. Now we are descending into the blind world. They long for peace, but peace for them can only mean annihilation. Hell for Paolo and Francesca is to love one another always exactly as they did in life; to be led forever by love in the sense that they were led by it in life. Virgil says to Dante: Implore them by that love which leads them. Yet Dante's call to them is all in terms of their fatigue and their loneliness, and they respond at once. Love is not recreation for them, not art, not grace, not act; it is to be blown about fore1·er by a dark blind wind that blows at random, they the lightest of all on the blast. Their lo\'e is Hell. It lea\'CS them even more lonely than the solitary spirits which surround them. \Vhatever comfort Francesca derives from her eternal coupling with Paolo, it cannot take the place for her of an appeal to a living heart for its heartfelt sympathy. Had they their canto. Thus the visual manifestation of what has been lost is the darkness of Hell. There is no sun, no light there. Virgil says when they s·et out into the first circle, For the darkness which is all about them thereafter, the black and murky air, is only an outward sign of the blindness of all the inhabitants of Hell. They are deprived of light, deprived of sight. They can see no good to hope for, though otherwise they see well enough. But what good is such sight? Just as the mind of a clever criminal may function intelligently, so their souls have all their mere powers intact, but the very principle of action is lost to them forever. Let us watch them as thev come before Minos the judge. He asks no questions.' Each sinner on his own acknowledges all his sins. \Jilhat makes it possible for him on arriving in Hell to know himself and confess his sins as never before? I think it is his blindness~ his loss of the truth, of the good of the intellect, How is it that the loss of truth can make a soul truthful? Tire answer lies in an ambiguity in the notion of truth. The sinner 19 �The College has nothing to hide, when he has lost all sense of the evil of sin; his truthfulness omits the central fact of all: that what he has done is wrong. At most he knows that other men do not approve. But without the light which gives goodness and life to things, what has he to hide? In the dark all cats are grey. He can be honest as never before: in Hell, even the dissemblers tell the truth about fhemse1ves. This same blindness means that whatever sense there is in the world below will be eternally invisible to the sinner. The justice of Hell is a cruel mockery to its · inhabitants. In the Aeneid, Minos is a silent, majestic judge. In Dante's Hell he has been transformed into a grotesque and repulsive monster. He growls like an angry dog, grinding his teeth in inarticulate rage. He has a 1·oice, but as he pronounces judgement, he wraps his long tail around himself as many times as the sinner mnst go down circles in He11. In his appearance and manner there is no vestige of the rational order which in fact he represents. His metamorphosis is an image of the blindness of the sinners: they cannot see that he is the agent and minister of divine justice. When Francesca says, If the king of the universe were our friend, it is as though it were a matter of whim or chance that the powers that control the world are on the other side, as Hippolytus might regret that he could not placate both Aphrodite and Artemis. The enmity of Francesca to God leaves no hope of reconciliation, because she has no longer any notion that she might be wrong. Even when she is glad that h·finos will plunge her husband into the frozen abyss, it is not, it seems to me, the justice of it that occasions her fierce delight, but the satisfaction that revenge gives her pride. Above all it is Francesca's utter lack of regret for what she has been responsible for that shows her distance from us, the mark of the dead soul: life and responsibility go hand in hand. None of the consequences of her love seem to trouble her: not her husband brought by her adultery into a temptation to which he was unequal; not Paolo who, in sharing eternity with her, shares Hell; not her children left to grow up in the shadow of the crimes of their father and mother; not her family and her state, plunged in the agitation of scandal. Her dignity and reserve, her pride is touched in no way by an admission that she has done wrong. It is all only the perverse evil of a malignant world. She has turned the whole world upside dov.m. Now we too have known moments of this kind of Hell ourselves. Those moments in us are the basis of the allegorical iJ1terprctation of Dante's Hell. \Ve recognize something of ourselves in the lost souls. But if we strain our imaginations to suppose that Francesca never at all thinks or feels differently, we see how vastly any 20 analogy we frame differs from what she experiences in their literal Hell. She is set in the state of her heart and mind; we, I trust, are not. For in us there resides conscience, and in her it is gone. The metamorphosis of Minos from the stern and noble legislator of tradition to a snarling demon, may be an image of the sinner's transformation of conscience from a reasonable guide to a hateful executioner. It is conscience above all which is the avenue of the good of the intellect to our souls, conscience which in its impregnable resistance to all outer and inner pressures proclaims its integrity, and in proclaiming that integrity, that liberty, proclaims that it is the voice of Another and not our own. Conscience, as its name implies, is a species of knowledge: it is knowledge shared with another. It is interior to ourselves; yet it commands our assent, try as we may to deny it. It is intimate, but it is no ·more in our po\ver to alter than the propositions of Euclid. Its presence in us declares that there is a judgement not of our own making by which good and evil are distinguished. It is the reflection in us of the eternal and original light. It is not merely the passing judgement we are obliged and willing to make on all sorts of persons and affairs; it is not shame, which can be induced by education and habit, or by pride and fear of the opinion of others. It is that awareness in ourselves that we are watched by a Judge whose judgement is infallible, the only Arbiter of good. At its best it is the knowledge that we are not alone, but have our place equally with all men in an all-embracing vision. As such it is the basis of our loving one another, and, I think, the only abiding one. To see men in the light of conscience is to see them all as ourselves, all sinners, all children of the Father, all worthy of love. There are no exclusions for conscience; it allows no ultimate privacy. It establishes an all-inclusive community, for in it all men are seen as brothers. In its harsher form, more familiar from ordinary speech, conscience is the arbiter of our guilt, a standard from which there is no appeal, a guide when we have fallen. But I would rather emphasize that by the light we gain from it, we give form to whatever is well-formed in what we do. It seems to me that while we acknowledge all that is pathetic in Paolo and Francesca, we must admit that they show no signs of conscience whatsoever. If that is so, it seems to me that they pass across a barrier through which our sympathy cannot reach: that barrier divides us forever, however pitiful it may be that human beings of such grace as theirs should have isolated themselves from all human affection. In revealing their lack of conscience, they reveal that they are dead, dead to what gives us life and hope, the possibility of learning and love. Let us return briefly to our opening theme, poetry and the imagination. My discussion has taken Dante's poem as an occasion for reflection on the questions of the life and the death of the soul, on love and human fellowship. I assume that such reflections may have their natural �July 1971 consequences in action. In making such a use of poetry I intend to share with Dante the understanding of poetry that dictated his choice of the poet Virgil as the proper guide on his way to the earthly paradis·e. Vlhy did he not choose Aristotle, "the master of those who know," as Dante calls him? Because poetry has powers of persuasion that Aristotle does not. Immediately before the beginning of the fifth canto, Dante and Virgil are met in Limbo by the souls of four great poets whose leader is Homer. TI1e poets lead them to the noble castle, where famous heroes and thinkers live, models of the active and contemplative Jives. Thus poetry is presented as a guide to .the best in life and Virgil as well as Dante rejoices when Dante is taken into that select company as a sixth among equals. Poetry at its best embodies reason at work and is one of the noblest of human activities, sharing and reflecting the light gained from the highest contemplation. The triumph of poetry, its special ordering in relation to moral and intellectual virtue, exalts Dante briefly. Yet he cannot think it worth very much to be even the best poet in Hell. Poetry is -dangerous. Its very powers of persuasion can be abused. Right after his encounter with the poets, we find Dante demanding to know from Francesca the occasion of their making the first step o·n the road to sin, when conscience was thrust aside by the discovery that their secret desires were shared and companionship in guilt made its seductive appeal over against the possibility of companionship in love. Her answer is that it was the day when they were reading together "for pastime." V,Tbether that step would have been taken without the book, no one can say. That the book was in fact the occasion Francesca makes perfectly plain in full detail. As she answers Dante we see how step by step each of them was encouraged by the book to commit himself to the relation which was so rich in sweet thoughts and full of desire in the beginning but which in the end led to the woeful pass. We read one day for pastime of Lancelot, how Jove constrained him; we were alone and had no misgiving. Many times that reading drove our eyes together and changed the color in our faces; but one point alone it was that mastered us. fatal step. All they did was to follow the book's example. When we read the longed-for smile was kissed by so great a lover, he who shall never be parted from me, all trembling kissed my mouth. It was the tale of the adultery of Lancelot, the famous lover and hero of poetry, which became the inspiration and sanction of the adultery of Francesca and Paolo. Can what seemed so magnificent in poetry be wrong in life? Of course it can, not only wrong, but sordid and bitter. Poetry is dangerous. It is easy for poetry to set a bad example and make the worse appear the better course. \Vhat else had Dante done himself, when he wrote his earlier love poetry? It is Dante himself who is the censor of that poetry. In Purgatory 'vhen Dante quotes 1 his own sonnet, Cato the Censor is angry with the spirits who delay the great work of life, which is to purify themselves, while they linger over the lovely occasion of passive delight as Casella sings of love in Dante's words. Here in Hell Dante is an even more severe judge of poetry and his own poems. Francesca speaks in the famous New Style which Dante helped to establish in his youth. It is the fonn in which Francesca naturally casts the account of the Jove which destroyed the life of her soul. She all but quotes another of Dante's sonnets. On his conscience as Dante hears her speak is the burden of having published poetry himself, whose theme and style nourished, if they did not directly inspire, the kind of Jove that Paolo and Francesca are condemned to act out forever. Francesca, in pronouncing her judgement on the author of the Tale of Lancelot, shows how great are the responsibilities of the poet. At the beginning of a poem which Dante plainly hopes will open the road to Heaven, it is his duty to show how poetry and a certain poem, even his own poems, may open the way to Hell. Robert S. Bart received a RA. degree from Har\'ard College in 1940 and a M.A. degree from St. John's College in 1957. From 1940 to 1941 he )Vas a Sheldon Traveling Fe11ow from Harvard University. He joined the faculty of St. John's in Annapolis in 1946. As Francesca recounts that solitary hour, she makes sweet poetry that dallies with the memory of its sweetness. But in her final words she passes a sentence of damnation on the author of that book as harsh as the one she had passed on Gianciotto her husband: A Galeotto, that is, A Pander was that book and he who wrote it. The poet must bear the guilt of what he wrought in providing the dear occasion of their making the first 21 �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES ITEMS OF MUSICAL INTEREST The performance of music found new expression on the Annapolis campus this past year. First, a fifteenpiece chamber music orchestra, composed of Tutors and students, was established. Tutor David Stephenson was director, assisted by student directors Alan Plutzik ('71) and James Carlyle ('73). The orchestra hopes to become a permanent activity, rehearsing weekly during the academic year. In addition to the orchestra, concerts by student performers were started this year. Leslie Epstein ('74) and Tutor Douglas Allanbrook performed a concert for recorder and harpsichord on May 1st. A composition by Mr. Epstein was featured. On June 6th, Mark Schneider ('73) gave a piano concert. It is hoped that two or three student concerts can be scheduled each year. Also during this past year Mrs. E. Malcolm Wyatt (Martha Goldstein '61), Music Librarian, has been conducting an informal bureau of student performers. Through her auspices Annapolis Provost Paul D. Newland throws out the first ball of the Spring 1971 baseball season. Photo: Thomas Farran, Jr. :·;, ' • j • - • ,j\i,;;:. ~:~~~ ~~-f;. ·. i~~~fl - ,........ 22 ~'·r,:~~~-~. '- ",<:;;;>)';.....,...,# folksingers have entertained at homes in the area, and at least one very successful birthday party puppet show was performed. In. this way residents of the area are recipients of top-notch entertainment, while the students can earn some extra money. It should also be mentioned that there are at the College highly-qualified students who are anxious to teach music. Again, Mrs. Wyatt has information about these students, and will be available after the College reopens in September. EXHIBITS INCLUDE WoRK OF INDIAN ARTISTS AND AWARDWINNING SANTA FE PHOTOGRAPHER Exhibits in the St. John's Gallery in Santa Fe this spring included work by young artists of the Institute of American Indian Arts and awardwinning photographer Laura Gilpin. More than fifty students and former students of the IAIA participated in a Graphics show of prints and drawings from April lith to May 7th. The artists represented many tribes, from Nez Perce to Navajo. Miss Gilpin, who has been a photographer for sixty years, is best known for her photographs of the Southwest and Indians, which have been published in her books, including The Enduring Navaho. This year she received the first Fine Arts award of the Southwest Industrial Photographers Association, which described her as "a great lady who stands alone as a photographic documentarian of the American Indian." �July 1971 CAMPUS NoTES 1\lr. and l\lrs. Laurence Berns and daughter Anna Elena will spend Mr. Berns's sabbatical year in Cambridge, England, where he ·will be an Associate of Clare Hall at Cambridge University. Tutor Malcolm \Vyatt will assume Mr. Berns's duties as editor of The College magazine during the sabbatical leave. Treasurer Charles T. Elzey and Business Manager James E. Grant represented St. John's College in Annapolis at the annual meeting of the l\larvland Association of College Busic ness.Officers in Baltimore on May 13th. St. John's College was the recipient of a special award in the May Basket Contest sponsored by the Garden Club of Old Annapolis Towne, thanks to the efforts· of Miss Charlotte Fletcher, Librarian, and Mrs. LaNece Lvmonte, Admissions Office secretary. Their flowers adorned the front door of McDowell Hall. Tutor Harry L. Golding delivered a lecture entitled "\il/hat is a Liberal Arts Education?" at Shimer College, 1\ft. Carroll, Illinois, on March 24th. Annapolis Dean Robert A. Goldwin was the conference leader of the Public Affairs Conference Center at Kenyon College frcim April 29th to May 2nd for a conference on "Violence and Cid Disorder." The participants were several members of Congress, elected officials from state governments, law enforcement officers, private attorneys, psychiatrists, and academic people from several disciplines. Mr. Goldwin will present a paper at the American Political Science Association meeting in Chicago on September 8th for a panel on "Politics, Education, and Philosophy." Michael Ham, the new Director of Admissions in Annapolis, took a recruitment trip with the Capitol Region Colleges 'mel talked with high school coun~c1or.<:. in Connecticut, New York, and l\:cw Jersey. He states St. John's College's greatest force for becoming known "is through our students and olumni. l\lanr of the counselors }earned of us from students at St. John's who carried the word .back home." Tutor Bryce Jacobsen will teach February freshmen during the summer sesions in Annapolis. Santa Fe Tutor David Jones will be on sabbatical leave for 1971-72. John S. }(jeffer is Director of the Summer Program in Annapolis this year. . Tutor Aaron IGrschbaum and his wife will spend the summer in Copenhagen visiting former Tutor Brian McGuire. The Kirschbaums will be moving to Santa Fe where he will become a member of the southv.,,estern campus faculty. Annapolis Provost Paul D. Newland gave a speech before the Public Relations Society in New York City on March lOth. The organization includes the top fifty industrial public relations executives. Mr. Newland was the alumni luncheon speake>- in Annapolis on February 12th, and the alumni dinner speaker in \il/ashington, D. C., on May 23rd. Tutor John Sarkissian is teaching in the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education in Santa Fe this summer. STUDENT SERVES AS CANTOR Douglas Cotler, a Santa Fe summer senior, has been appointed Cantor of Temple Beth Shalom in Santa Fe. Cotler received his training from his father, who sings at the temple in Lafayette, California. Douglas Cotler studied in Israel in 1966-67 at the Institute for Youth Leaders from Abroad. SANTA FE TUTOR NAMED VICE PRESIDENT OF CALIFORNIA COLLEGE Thomas J. Slakey, a Tutor in Santa Fe ,:vii} become academic v1ce preslde~t of St. Mary's College of California during July. Mr. Slakcv graduated magm cum bode from ·the Christian Brothers's liberal arts college in 1952. l-Ie first joined the St. John's College faculty in Annapolis in 1959. He came to Santa Fe as one of the original group of faculty in 1964. Following his graduation from St. Mary's, Mr. Slakey attended Laval Universitv in Ouebec and earned his M.A. degree ;;; philosophy there in 1953. In 1960 he received his Ph.D. degree in philosophy from Cornell University. He V·/35 a teaching assistant at Cornell from 1955 to 1958. ZOLLARS CHOSEN PRESIDENTELECT OF CoLLEGE ADMISSIONS CoUNSELORS The Rocky 111ountain Association of College Admissions Counselors has chosen Gerald F. Zollars of Santa Fe ('65) as President-Elect of the sevenstate organization. One of Zollars's responsibilities will be to plan the association's 1972 annual conference at Albuquerque, New Mexico. He also is on the committee to arrange the National ACAC Conference in San Francisco this fall. MONITOR REPORTER TELLS OF EXPERIENCES AT ST. JOHN'S SUMMER GRADUATE INSTITUTE "Socrates and I went back to college together last summer and he was such a companionable fellow r think we'll do it again," is the way Jack \Vaugh began his article in the May 14th issue of The Christian Science Momtor. \Vauoh a writer for the Monitor, and his ;,ife Lynne attended the 1970 session of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education held each summer at St. John's in Sania Fe. "I found myself in the section on philosophy and theology seated between an atheist from Balbmore and a theist from Gallup, and armed with the sinale rule laid out by example centuri:S aao by the ironic deflater himself, th~ admirable and kindly Socrates: Follow the argument whereever it leads." In the article \Vaugh commented on the difference between the form expressed in most classroom arguments and the dialectic dialogue which St. John's tutors and students practice or attempt to practice. 23 --- ----~-- �The College GRADUATKON·l971 Graduation 1971 on the Santa Fe campus of St. John's College was held on Sunday, June 6, and on the Annapolis campus on Sunday, June 13. A total of 71 students were graduated with Steven Michael Moser in Santa Fe and Holly Ann Carroll in Annapolis receiving the Silver Medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors. The medal is awarded to a senior on each campus who has achieved the highest standing. Six seniors graduated magna cum . laude; seven received degrees cum laude. Sheila Bobbs, Jonathan Lippitt Brewer, Paul Futra11 Bustion, Catherine North Carroll, Maya Narayan Contractor, Stuart Roy Deaner, Sally Lee Dunn, Paul Gordon Eitner, Ralph David Esdale, Amanda Skouras Fowler, Bonnie Louise Gage, Margaret Edith Jacobs, Laura Joyce Kelly, Vicky Manchester, Linda Norton, Gerald Pickard Peters III, Dennis Patrick Plummer, Donald Malden Stillwell, Dolores Ann Strickland, LJoyd Chockley \Vestbrook, Edward Bradley \Vhitney, and Leslie Kenneth \Vilson. Guest speaker in Santa Fe was Ivan Illich, Director of the Center For Inter-Cultural Documentation in Mexico. Stringfellow Barr, President of St. John's College in Annapolis from 1937 to 1946, addressed the Annapolis seniors. Other graduation week activities included a meeting of the Board in Santa Fe, class day exercises, baccalaureate, and a reception for graduates and guests at the home of President and Mrs. 'Neigle. Magna Cum Laude: Holly Ann Carroll, Jeremiah Andrew Collins, Richard Delahide Ferrier, Jeffrey Coleman Kitchen, Jr., and Rachel DuBose Sullivan; Cum Laude: Shire Joseph Chafkin, James Arthur Cockey, Andrew Alexander Fleming Garrison, and Judy Gail Kepner; Rite: Douglas Hathorn Bennett, Dennis Dean Berg, Marcia Jones Berg, Perry Jack Braunstein, Duncan MacRae Brown, \Villiam H. Buell III, Thomas Gridley Casey, 2nd, Diana Love Collins, Dennis John Dort, Thomas Leonard Dourmashkin, George Henry Elias, Jr., Marie Kathryn Erickson, Joanna May Fitzick, Robert Fenton Gary, Jay Alexander Gold, Jane Sarah Goldwin, James Kent Guida, James Ross Hill, Katherine Elisabeth Jackson, Diane Palley Joseph, Martha Jo Kaufman, Christopher Lee, Clifford Alan Martin, Ronny Stephen Millen, Jocelyn Lloyd Moroney, Alan Roth Plutzik, Lynn Carol Smith Pomerance, John Robert Scow, Barbara Sherman Simpson, Jeffrey Sonheim, James Stewart Spirer, Harold Samuel Stone, Leila Adams Straw, Daniel James Su1livan, Victor Michael Victoroff, and James Francis Villere, Jr. SANTA FE l\1agna Cum Laude: Gail Hartshorne; Cum Laude: Steven Michael Moser, James Fredrick Scott, and Donald Hugh \Vhitfield; Rite: 24 ANNAPOLIS �July 1971 'I I 25 �The College 4 5 1) Five seniors take a final look as students from the Peterson Student Center balcony in Santa Fe. 2) Santa Fe graduation ceremonies ring the Nina Garson Memorial Pool. 3) Annapolis senior Holly Ann Carroll receives her magna cum laude degree from President Richard D. Weigle and her hood from Provost Paul D. Newland. Miss Carroll also was awarded the silver medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors. 4) Steven Michael Moser graduates cum laude in Santa Fe. He received the silver medal from the Board, and the Margo Dawn Gerber Memorial Prize for writing the best senior essay. 5) Vice-President J. Burchenal Ault leads the procession from the Peterson Student Center to the Commencement site. 6) The center of attention is Gail Hartshorne, the only magna cum laude graduate in Santa Fe. Photo: Robert Nugent. 7) President Richard D. \Veigle listens to a graduation address. 8) Parents and guests applaud (and photograph) Ivan Illich, speaker in Santa Fe. 26 �July 1971 27 �The College COLLEGE CHAMBER ORCHESTRA PRESENTS CONCERT WITH GuEST PIANIST The St. John's College Chamber Orchestra and guest pianist, Mrs. John W. McHugh of Santa Fe, presented a concert at Santa Fe on April 14th. The performance included the first movement of the London Symphony by Haydn with Tutor Samuel E. Brown as guest conductor. Schubert's "Double Cello Quintet," first movement, was presented by five players from the orchestra, which is made up of students and local musicians. Mrs. McHugh was soloist for Beethoven's Piano Concerto in C Minor, first movement, with Tutor Richard Stark conducting the orchestra. NEW BOARD CHAIRMAN ELECTED J. I. Staley of Wichita Falls, Texas, will head the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College for the 197172 year. Mr. Staley was elected chairman at the recent meeting of the Board at the southwestern campus. He succeeds Mrs. Walter B. Driscoll of Santa Fe. The board also named Mrs. Duane L. Peterson of Baltimore, Maryland, as eastern vice chairman and former New Mexico Governor Jack M. Campbell of Santa Fe as western vice chairman. A St. John's College alumnus, Bernard Fleischmann, of New Jersey, was reelected secretary. Mr. Staley is the president of the . Staley Oil Company in Wichita Falls and O\:vns a ranch near Las Vegas, 1\Tew Mexico. · He has been interested in St. John's since 1940 when he read an article in Life magazine about the new great books program initiated on the Annapolis campus by Stringfellow Barr and Scott Buchanan. His interest was renewed when St. John's opened its Santa Fe campus in 1964. He served on the board from 1965 to 1970 and was reappointed at the same meeting he was elected chairman. l\-Ir. Stalev received his B.A. degree in sociology" from Stanford University 28 in 1935 and his D.J. degree from the University of Texas Law School in 1938. He has been on the Santa Fe Opera Board of Directors since its inception and is now its vice-chair- man. He is also a member of the Stanford Associates, the Texas Legal Foundation, the Wichita Falls Museum and Art Center, and the VV'ichita Falls Symphony Orchestra. New members elected to the Board of Visitors and Governors are: John S. Greenway, Tucson, Arizona; Jac Holzman, New York, New York; Mrs. Everett H. Jones, San Antonio, Texas; Mrs. Louise Trigg McKinney, Santa Fe, New Mexico; John Murchison, Dallas, Texas; and Mrs. Duane L. Peterson, Baltimore, Maryland. SANTA FE SENIORS SPONSOR BENEFIT SHOWING OF WAR AND PEACE; PRESENT GIFT To CoLLEGE The Santa Fe campus of St. John's College received a gift of $4,957 from the members of the Class of 1971. The gift includes $2,380 which the senior class raised through a showing of the six-hour Russian film version of Tolstoy's War and Peace. This amount was matched anonymously. About $88 was raised with a number of "15-minute parties" given by students on Wednesday evenmgs throughout the school year. The class stipulated the money should be used to diminish the principal of the debt owed by the College in Santa Fe to the endowment fund of the Annapolis campus. "VIe have two things in mind in wishing to give this amount toward the repayment of the Annapolis endowment debt," the statement accompanying the gift noted. '.'First perhaps, it can in a small way express our thanks to Annapolis for helping this campus to come about with its Own critical funds, not to mention the men and experience it gave. "Secondly, this gift is given in the hope of continuing and yet finer achievements, through books and· dis- cussions, by all members of the college." Representatives of the senior class made the presentation at the recent board meeting in Santa Fe. President Weigle and the board members expressed their appreciation of the gift and commended the students for their support of the College. PRESIDENT AND MRS. WEIGLE TRAVEL ON DANFORTH FouNDATION GRANT President and Mrs. Weigle enjoyed several weeks of travel on a grant from the Danforth Foundation during the first half of 1971. The grant was in conjunction with a Danforth program of short-term leaves for college and university administrators who have served with an educational institution for at least five years. During January and Febtuary the couple toured in South Africa, Rhodesia, Tanzania, and Kenya, stopping to visit universities in Johannesburg and Pretoria, and Rhodes University in Grahamstown. In the interior of Tanzania the Weigles visited Morogoro Teachers College. In addition to viewing Victoria Falls, they also spent time in the game reserves at Amboseli and visited the treetops in Kenya and the Kenya National Park at Nairobi. In March the Weigles joined eighty · other educators for a tour of Budapest, ·Bucharest, Moscow, Novosibirsk, and Warsaw. They visited secondary schools and universities in all centers and saw Academic Citv in Siberia, a concentration of research institutes and library facilities located 2,000 miles east of Moscow. In April and May Mr. Weigle was a Visiting Fellow at Clare College of Cambridge University in England. The couple stayed with Tutor Elliott Zuckerman who is currently a Fellow at the College. Mr. VV'eigle explored the early relationships between St. John's College in Cambridge and St. John's , College in Annapolis. During the last week of the trip to England the \~'eigles visited with Tutor Samuel Kutler and his wife who were on a sabbatical. �July 1971 NEW ADMISSIONS DIRECTOR IN ANNAPOLIS Annapolis Provost Paul D. Newland recently announced the appointment of Michael Vvilliam Ham as Director of Admissions of the Annapolis campus effective July 1st. Mr. Ham served as an assistant to Mr. James M. Tolbert, retiring Director of Admissions, in April, May, and June. Mr. Tolbert, at his request, has resumed full-time duties as a Tutor at the College. Following graduation cum laude from St. John's in 1961, Mr. Ham attended Dartmouth College on a teaching fellowship, and received his I\1.S. degree in mathematics from the ( Michael W. Ham University of Iowa in 1968. He taught mathematics at the Key School in Annapolis from 1965 to 1966, and assisted in planning the secondary school mathematics curriculum there. Mr. Ham was Coordinator of Data Processing for the American College Testing Program in Iowa from 1967 to 1969 when he joined the Westinghouse Learning Corporation as a system analyst in Project PLAN's Computer Systems group. He was Manager of PLAN Systems Analysis and Programming at the time he left. Mr. Ham is married to the former Mary Lou Ryce, also a St. John's College graduate, and they have three children, Cecelia, Greta, and Ethan. ALUMNI· ACTIVITIES WELCOME ABOARD Both as an alumnus of St. John's and as president of the Alumni Association, let rne welcome the Class of 1971, and the members of earlier classes who graduated last month, to the ranks 9f the Alumni of St. John's College. We are pleased and proud to have you join us, and hope that you will want to participate actively in the life of the Association. There are a number of ways in which \'OU can be an active alumnus, but th~v all require some sort of invoh·ement. It may be as simple as participating in meetings of local alumni groups, or it may be as complex as organizing a telephone session as part of the annual giving campaign. It certainly means attending Homecoming when you can, and voting in the various and sundry elections as they occur. It could also mean serving as a volunteer in the Admissions ASsistance or Career Counselling programs which the Association sponsors. And it also means supporting the College with such financial help as you can afford. In whatever ways you choose, be a part of the Association, the organization through which alumni participate in thelife of the College. As an alumnus, you \Vil1 ahvays be a member of the St. John's community: Exercise your membership. Again, a hearty welcome to each of vou, and the best of luck in your aftercollege life. ' WILLIAM R. TILLES '59 ASSOCIATION ACTIVITIES Board of Visitors and Governors: Philip I. Bowman '31 and W. Bernard Fleischmann '50 were elected to second consecutive terms on the Board of Visitors and Governors in May. An election, conducted by mail, was neces~ sitated when Steven Shore SF '68 was nominated by petition. This springtime election was the first under the prO\·isions of the new College Polity and Association By-Laws. News-sheet: The Association directors have started an informal news-sheet to supplement material which appears on 29 �The College sessions will be continued next year, and ways are being sought" for the Service to function more actively as a job placement center. Suggestions would be most welcome. CHAPTER NEWS Annapolis: On May 14th T. Herbert Taylor '44 assumed chairmanship of the chapter, replacing Frank B. Marshall '45. The local group plans to continue the monthly luncheons next year, but would like to have an occasional night-time or week-end activity. This would permit attendance of local alumni who cannot attend luncheons. New York: The New York group held a meeting on Tuesday, May 25th, with Jacob Klein as guest speaker. l'vlr. Klein conducted an informal seminar on ~Ia to. /Washington: Under the co-leadership DaYid F. Crowley, Jr., '28, v.ras one of the 27 alumni volunteers who helped with the Baltimor~/" of Ca.ro] (~hillips) Ti!les ,:59 and telethon -during this year's Alumni Annual Giving Campaign. Telephone appeals were also made Cynthza (S1ehler) Wh1te 66, the in Annapolis and Vilashington, D. C. Gifts in response to the calls amounted to almost $5,000. chapter he1d a dinner meeting on May 23rd. Annapolis Provost Paul D. Newthese pages. Scheduled for publication inquiries to certain alumni for follow- land was guest of honor and principal four times a year, the News will alter- up and possible interview. (If you were speaker. nate with issues of this magazine. The a volunteer for this program and have directors anticipate that this plan will not had names sent you, there simply AWARD OF MERIT permit more timely communication have been few if any inquiries from The Alumni Award of Merit, first with all alumni about Association ac- your area.) Thanks to the efforts of Temple G. presented in 1950,_ may be awarded tivities. Porter '62 and a committee of other annually at the discretion of the Board Programs: directors, alumni help with admissions of Directors of the Alumni AssociaDuring the coming year the Associa- work is about to enter a new phase. A tion. In June, 1970, the directors voted tion will concentrate its efforts to help kit for volunteers, developed by Mr. to increase the number of Awards from the College on three principal areas: Porter with the cooperation of both one to not more than three annually. the Counselling and Placement Service, Directors of Admissions, will be made The Award is made to an alumthe Admissions Assistance Program, available during the summer to alumni nus for "distinguished and meritorious volunteers. Designed to help alumni sen•ice to the United States or to his and fund raising. · Fund raising is an increasingly im- seek out and interview prospective stu- native state or to St. John's College, or portant fact of life for St. John's as dents, the kit has been acclaimed by for outstanding achievement within his for other colleges. Alumni involvement, officers of the College. It should prove chosen field." both as workers and as givers, will be invaluable to alumni as they become Association President \Villiam· R. more critical than ever over the next more deeply involved in finding able Tilles asks that confidential letters of nomination be sent to him no later several years. If the performance of the students for both campuses. past fe\v years is maintained, however, Plans are nm:v being dra\vn up for than August 15th. Each letter should there will be no lack of alumni support the Counselling and Placement Service. contain sufficient information about for the College. In the past year there were three main the nominee to permit thorough evaluA program to help the Admissions counselling sessions held, on graduate ation by the Board of Directors. Letters officers on both campuses has been in schools, on law, and on careers in busi- should be sent to l\-1r. Tilles, c/o operation since early 1968. To date ness and governm-ent, but little \:vas Alumni Office, St. John's College, Anit has consisted primarily ·of referring done in the way of placement. Similar napolis, Maryland 21404. 30 �July 1971 REUNIONS ANNIVERSARY HoMECOMING This is the vear in which the classes ~While the Alumni Association really of 1911, 1921; 1931, 1941, 1946, 1951, does not trace its origins back to King 1961, and 1966 should be planning William's School, St. John's College some sort of special get-together for certainly does. For that reason, the Homecoming. Those are the special re- College this year will celebrate the union classes, those who ar·e passing 275th anniversary of the founding of another milestone, whether it be the the School. 5th or the 60th anniversary of the • As you can read elsewhere in this graduation of the class. The Alumni issue, the celebration of the big event Office will help in whatever way it can: will take place in the fall, starting on lists of classmates, reservations at October 12th, and terminating on motels or hotels, special tables at the Homecoming Day, October 16th. V-le dinner. \Ve want to help you have a encourage all alumni to attend as good time; please give us a chance. man\· of the activities during th2t CLASS NOTES 1900 Louis Baer, who must be our oldest living alumnus, celebrated his 92nd birthday on May 29th. countrY to be fitted witb a dorsal column stimulator (DCS). The DCS, implanted under the skin, relays radios impulses from a special transmitter controlled by b.Ir. Dulin; the impulses set up interference which cancels pain signals moving to the brain. 1907 A nice note from Mrs. E. S. Bushong of 1933 In }.-larch William A. Ziegler retired from Boonsboro, Maryland, informs us that her - Bethlehem Steel's Sparrows Point plant. An father, the Rev. \VaJter B . .McKinley, celeAll-American lacrosse player as well as football brated his 90th birthday this past spring. Alend and basketball center at St. John's, Mr. though emphysema prevents his walking, he is Ziegler was General Foreman, Plate and Flange "otherwise in good shape," to quote Mrs. BusMills, upon his retirement. hong. Our congratulations to Mr. McKinley. 1912 We hear through Philip L. Alger of Spencer D. Hopkins, now fourteen years retired from the General Motors Corporation, where he worked for forty years. Mr. Hopkins keeps busy helping manage a home for the aged and helping run a club for retired GM executives. He makes his home in Bloomfield Hills, lv1ichigan. 1922 William R. Horne}', a member of the SATC unit at St. John's in 1918, and a retired judge of the Maryland State Court of Appeals, was ordained a deacon of the Episcopal Church on January 16, 197L Mr. Horney serves as assistant to the rector of St. Paul's Church in Centreville, Maryland. 1928 Louis L. Snyder, professor of history at the City College of the City University of New York, deli\·ered the first talk in the current "Ideas" series for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation on April 12th. Professor Snyder's subject for the CBC network was "The Ideas of Nation and 1\'ntionalism." 1931 \\'ilbur R. Dulin, an Annapolis attomcy and former State Senator, helped make medical hislory recently. After suffering \\'ith spinal pain for SC\'eral years following a cancer operation, Y\-Ir. Dulin became the forty-first pers9n in this ~/alter 1935 F. Evers informs us that Joseph Novey lost his wife last falL We join Mr. Novey's classmates in sending belated condolences. 1938 Jack D. EngJar, former vice president of plant operations for McCormick & Co., Inc., and more recently manager of economic development of the Greater Baltimore Chamber of Commerce, in March was named vice president and general manager of the technologies division of Tate Industries. 1939 On July lst Frank A. \\lhite, Jr., was promoted to vice president at Pennsylvania Mutual Life Insurance Company. 1943 On the night of January 1-2, 1971, the hopes and dreams of the Bay Country School and of its founder and headmaster, Ogden Kellogg-Smith, disappeared in $70,000 worth of smoke and flame. The school'S first building, literal]\· built bv the brawn and sweat of stu· dents,· parents,· and faculty 0\'er the preyious eighteen months, was cle~troyed by a fire of unknown origin. Founded in 1962, the School has ~crved a unique and useful purpose in Anne .-\rundel County by offering an opportunity to the student who did not fit the com·entioml mold. :No\\' the School faces the gigantic task. period as they can; we believe you will find them stimulating and very worthwhile. Details of Homecoming itself will be published later in the summer, although a few events are now in place. Alumni seminars will probably be held on Saturday morning, the Annual Meeting following luncheon, and the annual reception and dinner in the late afternoon and night, respectively. IVIake your plans now to join us, at least for the 16th, and better yet, for three or four days. \Ve think you will enjoy the experience. of replacing its loss. Any of Mr. Kellogg-Smith's former classmates or other friends who wish to help should address iv1r. Robert Jenkins, Bay Country School, Arnold, :tvid. 21012. This was an auspicious spring for the H. \Villard Stern family: in April Mr. Stern and his wife had a son, Darrell David, and one month later, Mr. Stern received his Ph.D. degree from Rutgers, T11e State University. His dissertation \\'as entitled: "A Philosophical Analysis of the Use of 'Comprehension' In An Educational Context.'' 1944 Carl S. Hammen was promoted to professor of zoology at the University of Rhode Island on July lst. Mr. Hammen holds master's degrees from Columbia University and the University of Chicago, and a Ph.D. degree from Duke University. In March James \V. Poe, Jr. received the \Vriters Guild 1971 Laurel Award, symbolizing the writer "who has ad\·anced literature of the motion picture through the vears." Several years ago Mr. Poe won an Acade-my Award for his movie screenplay "Around the \Vorld in SO Days." He is the father of Lorna Poe '67. 1945 John L. Lincoln's son Jack '74 politely called our attention to a misplaced item in the April issue. It should have been in the 1945 Notes instead of those for 1950: it was Jack's uncle, C. Ran/et Lincoln, who was in the class of 1950, not his father. Apologies to all the Lincolns. 1950 Dean Robert A. Gold\\'in l1ad a special interest in the commencement exercises this year, since his daughter, Jane, \\'as a member of the graduating class. Miss Goldwin \\'ill go to London for a year, and has been accepted in a ~laster of :\rts in teaching program at Goucher College for the follo\\'ing year. James H. Riggs \Hites to J\fiss 1\Jiriam Str;mge that he will be entering the study of psychology this coming fall at \Vest Georgia College, Carrollton, Georgia. 31 �The College 1953 H:we you ever wanted to chuck everything and get away from it all? Singer Glenn R. Yarbrough has apparently decided to do just that at the end of this year. Last February he announced that he will abandon his musical career and head to sea in his sailboat, Jubilee. "'ith his wife, Anne, and their small daughter, Holly, Mr. Yarbrough will cruise the world for five years or more, to "read and think and travel ... as an ordinary person." 1956 The Reverend J. Donald Libby has been rector of Christ Church, I.U. Parish, near Lynch, Maryland, and rector of North Sassafras Parish in lower Cecil County, since May 1st. Before mm·ing to the Eastern Shore, Re\'. Libby was rector of Severn Parish, near CrownsYille. 1l1c Libbvs and their three children make their hom~ in Earleville. ]. Jay W'ase, since January a senior assistant State's Attorney for Baltimore City, is the author of "The Federal Gun Laws and You," published this past May. 1960 Richard S. Dohanian, who married the former Linda Powell in April, 1970, is now a restaurant owner in South Newbury, N.H. 1961 l\1ichael C. Haley since February has been specializing in the sale of commercial and investment real estate with an Albuquerque, New Mexico, firm. Mr. Haley and his wife, the former Linda Levitt '64, have lived in Albuquerque for several years. MicllaeJ W. Ham ·joined the staff of the College on April 19th as an Admissions Officer, and on July 1st he· replaced James M. Tolbert as Director of Admissions in Annapolis. (See article elsewhere in this issue.} Theodore B. C. Stincllecum, now performing professionally as Theo Barnes, toured with the Broadway T11eater of Northeastern Pennsylvania this past winter in the title role in "Hadrian VII." March 24, 19il, in Beirut, Lebanon. Mr. 1l1omas is with· the USIA. 1964 Stephen Fineberg writes that he is now at Stanford University working on a dissertation, "though officially still a Texan." Sara (Hobart) Homeyer and husband Charles recently announced that their son Peter has been joined by an adopted sister, Martha Jean, who became a Homeyer on April 26th. Our congratulations to th_e new parents. Neal 0. \\Ieiner now holds the rank of professor at Marlboro College in Vermont. 1965 The Har\'ard-Radcliffe Chapter of Sigma Xi has announced the advancement of Bruce Collier from associ<Jte member to member. Sigma Xi is an honorary organization for the encouragement of scientific research. Carlos Pereira is now Director de la Escuela de Cursos B:isicos del Nucleo de Bolivar, Universidad de Oriente, Cuidad Boli\'ar, Venezuela. The school, organized by Sr. Pereira, has 36 teachers and- 700 students, and offers the first two years of college. During those two years the students are selected to enter the different fields of study offered by the University. 1966 For the past year Dr. Jonathan D. Korshin has been senring his medical internship in Tucson at the three hospitals affiliated v.~th the University of Arizona School of l\Jedicine. Dr. Korshin received his medical degree in May, 1970, at Dov.rnstate Medical School, State University of New York. According to information received during the spring, he e>..rpected to move back to the East Coast in July, 1971. 1967 David C. Dickey was selected in May as the Republican nominee for commonwealth's attorney for Greene County, Virginia. Mr. Dickey has been practicing law in Stanardsville since his graduation from the University of Virginia law school in June, 1970. 1962 Judith (Levine) Gerberg writes that she is on the National Committee of the Professional \Vomen's Caucus. The letter which she sent explains that "P\VC is a national organization of professional persons in all fields working for a social environment that stresses the full development of human potential before sex role stereotypes.'' John F. l\-1iller \\'as one of 24 museologists and graduate students who attended the thirteenth annual Seminar for Historical Administrators in \Villiamsburg, Virginia, last month. T\·1r. \filler is a candiclate for an !\LA. degree in .\rchitectural 1-:Ii~tory/Art History at the Uni\'trsity of l\'faryland. 1963 Mr. and Mrs. Robert K. Tllomas are the proud parents of l\'Iiss Rebecca Marie, born 32 Congratulations and a- large vote of appreciation are due Arthur Kungle, Jr., and a large crew of volunteers whom he recruited, for the outstanding job they have done in beautifying the Annapolis campus. Gardens of annual flowers, a large bed of rose bushes, and many small trees on the back campus are the results of their labors. T11eir efforts have given us an even more beautiful setting in which to work. 1968 A letter from Bettina Briggs (SF) this spring re\·eals that she expected to receive her J.D. degree in June from Boston University_ After that she will "tackle the Massachusetts Bar Examinations," in order to join the law office of Benjamin A. Friedman in Taunton. \Vhile at the University, Miss Briggs has worked on the staff of Cambridge Legal Services, helping impo\'erished clients, and with the Long Range Planning Department of Tufts-New England Medical Center. In this latter position she was particularly concerned with the inadequacy of existing mass transit systems for the handicapped and elderly. The Army·s loss apparently \\~ll be the legal profession's gain, as Keith C. Covington has completed his military service and plans to enter law school in the fall. Elizabeth Dobbs writes that she finished work in April on her master's degree in the English Dcparbnent of the State Uni\'ersil:y of New York at Buffalo. She will be starting soon on her dissertation on medie\'al English. In May Jinna (MacLaurin) Rie received her M.Ed. degree from Goucher College in Baltimore. In March there were sergeant's stripes for Jonathan Zavin as he graduated from the NonCommissioned Officer Candidate School at Ft. Benning, Georgia. Sgt. Zavin was Selected for the course under a specialized program that grants rapid promotions to outstanding individuals. 1969 Linda E. Davenport has been teaching school this past year in Chester, Vermont. In Memoriam .-1906-Richard H. Hodgson, Salisbury, Md., yJ-433-Stanley R. Mitchell, Guilford, Conn., M.,ch 7, 1971. August 17, 1970. /1908-J. Graham Shannahan, Sr., Balti- \/1936-John ,;v_ Sullivan, Millington, Md., more, Md., June 2, 1971. .. . May 13, 1971. /1913-Robert A. Tennant, Oakland, Cal., !)9-37-J. Trenholm Hopkins, Charleston, . May 7, 1971. S.C., February 2, 1971. v-1917-----.:.R. .. Hammond Elliott, Md., May 3, 1971. './1920-Robert E. Coughlan, Jr., Annapolis,.,..- 1938-Lee N. Baker, Pikesville, Md., April 10, 1971. Baltimore, Md., March 5, 1971. ;'1923-Dougbs R. Bowie, ·1938-John \V. Cook, Frostburg, Md., /. August Jl, 1970. Cumberland, /1938-Peter T. Simmons, Portsmouth, Md., 1969. ,).928-Samuel T. Jones, Prince Frederick, ' . Md., May 16, 1971. 1943-Richard S. Spencer, Jr., Baltimore, \.-1930-Ferdinand 1970-Mitchel A. Green (SF), Februal)' Fader, South N.J., April 20, 1971. Orange, N.H., March II, 1971. Md., January 28, 1971. 23, 1971. �275th . ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION Calendar of Events Tuesday, October 12 Concert: Juilliard String Quartet Wednesday, October 13 Seminar on Plato's Meno Panel: Literature and Language Thursday, October 14 Panel: Politics and Society St. John's College Regular Seminars Friday, October 15 Panel: Mathematics and Science Tutor Jacob Klein: The St. John's College Seminar Tutor Douglas Allanbrook: Harpsichord Concert Alumni Receptions Saturday, October 16 Meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors Alumni Seminars Aliu:nni Business Meeting Academic Convocation Guest Speaker: Dr. Martin Meyerson, President The University of Pennsylvania Alumni Reception for Faculty and Seniors Alumni Dinner and Presentation of A ward of Merit �275th Anniversary Celebration October 12 -16, 1971 Annapolis See Inside Back Cover for Calendar of Events The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 32 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, July 1971 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1971-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Berns, Laurence Wyatt, Malcolm Felter, Mary P. Parran, Jr., Thomas Trimmer, Maurice Description An account of the resource Volume XXIII, Number 2 of The College. Published in July 1971. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_23_No_2_1971 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/9c778c269b8442bd948db213e9a4e155.pdf 2c1306d437fb1e26230d0721e76dbebd PDF Text Text �The College Cover: Thomas Jefferson, from a bust by Tean Antoine Houdon. Inside Front Cover: McDowell Hall, Annapolis, sketch by Daniel Sullivan, Class of 1971. The College is a publication for friends of St. John's College and for those who might become friends of the College, if they came to know it. Our aim is to indicate, within the limitations of the magazine form, why, in our opinion, St. John's comes closer than any other college in the nation to being what a college should be. If ever well-placed beacon lights were needed by American education it is now. By publishing articles about the work of the College, articles reflecting the distinctive life of the mind that is the College, we hope to add a watt or two to the beacon light that is St. John's. Acting Editor: Malcolm Wyatt Managing Editor: Mary P. Felter Alumni Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Assistant: Maurice Trimmer The College is published by the Development Offices of St. John's College, College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland 21404 (Julius Rosenberg, Director), and Santa Fe, New Mexico (J. Burchenal Ault, Vice President); Member, American Alumni Council. President, St. John's College, Richard ·D. Weigle. Published four times a year in April, July, October, and December. Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. In the December Issue: • 1 How Praise A World That May Not Last, by Niark Van Doren • Discussion As A Means Of Teaching And Learning, by Jacob Klein 3 On The Study Of Politics In A Liberal Education, by Martin Diamond 6 News on the Campuses Vol. XXIII December 1971 No.4 ll Alumni Activities 17 �Discussion As A Means Of Teaching And Learning* By JACOB KLEIN W.AT follows is a description of a St. John's Seminar. A book or a part of it is to be discussed; about twenty students (usually fewer and seldom more) sit around a table, and two tutors have to act as moderators of the discussion. The students are supposed to have read the book or the assigned part of it before coming to the seminar. Some have done that well and thoroughly, some not well and superficially; it may even happen that a student has not read the book at all. One of the tutors begins the discussion by raising a question, directly related to what is said in the book. Sometimes a silence ensues before a student chooses to answer the question; sometimes the answer follows the question immediately. This answer may provoke a comment or a refutation or a new question coming from students or tutors. Thus an exchange of opinions develops, which can be animated, even heated, or calm and slow. Quite a few students participate in this exchange, while some remain silent. What happens while this exchange goes on? Many things. What the book is about may be clarified to some extent. How its content is connected with the content of other books may be discovered, weighed or subtly suggested. But more important things do occur. A student might find his most cherished thought elucidated or his *Paper prepared for the 275th Anniversary Colloquium at St. John's College in Annapolis, Friday, October 15, 1971. most burdensome question answered in the book, and this gives him the opportunity to bring about a discussion of this favorite theme of his, which turns the seminar away from the book altogether. And yet, what is then being discussed may be something more fundamental for the understanding of one's world and one's life. Or, on the contrary, a student may see for the first time that something he had always accepted is actually highly doubtful. A sentence, even a single word, uttered by one of the participants in the discussion, may open to him a new vista, may challenge his deepest convictions, may aggravate the awareness of his ignorance. It is thus that learning takes place, not in the sense that the students are being "informed" about opinions and doctrines uttered in the books, about events and facts mentioned in them, about plots and stories presented and narrated. What is achieved is rather an expansion of the intellectual horizon, a fostering of understanding, a demo~ ]ilion of false assumptions. This may not happen at all in any one seminar or even in a series of s-eminars; but it is likely to happen after a while, which means that only a steady continuation of the seminars through a lengthy period of time makes the seminar exercises fruitful and beneficial. fundamental rules determine the discussion. As the College catalogue puts it: "every opinion must be heard and explored, however sharp the clash of opinions I �The College may be," and "every opinion must be supported by argument-an unsupported opinion does not count." But it is not possible to avoid empty or even frivolous talk altogether. Serious arguments may degenerate into repetitious and shallow assertions. It is the task of the moderators, the seminar leaders, to turn the discussion back to its meaningful origin. They are not always able to do that because even wasteful and extravagent claims might contain points that fascinate the students' imagination and stimulate their urge to refute and to explore. Even then learning may take place. Very rarely is a question fully answered and the answer approved by all present. The main purpose of the seminar is not to find final solutions of perennial problems, but to become aware of a range of possible answers. Nor is it the purpose of the seminar to interpret the content of a book once and for all. Be it Homer or Virgil or Dante or Shakespeare, be it Plato or Aristotle or Descartes or Kant, be it Thucydides or Augustine or Hegel, be it any other author, none of the students and tutors is expected to "master" any one of their works, but everyone is expected to discover the diversity of possible interpretations that these works give rise to and the depth of the task that understanding them presents. Some troublesome aspects of the seminar have to be mentioned. There is too much to read, and the riches of the books are overwhelming. The habits of the students, as far as reading, listening, and arguing are concerned, vary to a very great extent. This can make the discussion uneasy or turbulent or even explosive. It is, at any rate, always unpredictable, as indeed it should be. But there is always the possibility that some spoken word-or some word withheld-may provoke a student with an insight of a penetrating nature, not necessarily related to the book or topic under discussion. The occurrence of learning itself is indeed unpredictable. 0 NE indispensable-although not' always sufficient -condition must prevail for learning to occur. It is the effort on the part of students, a continuous effort, to find answers to the questions raised. The answer to the question what learning itself is, is not a "theory of knowledge," a so-called "epistemology," but the very effort to learn. That is why in Plato's Meno Socrates keeps exhorting Meno and the yonng slave to "make an attempt" to answer. And that is why, in Plato's Republic (376B), Glaucon has to agree with Socrates that the "love of learning" (Til <{nAol'a8i,) and the "love of wisdom (To rf.HA6aorf>ov) are the same. This "love of learning/' which leads to the effort to learn, may not result in actual learning-it may indeed be insufficient, just as the "love of wisdom" may not result ln obtaining wisdom and knowl- edge. The pursuit of understanding and of knowledge in 2 the seminar is clouded by this uncertainty and unpredictability. But at some point of the discussion some understanding may be gained by some student or students, and this understanding may then evolve further and further. Let us also bear in mind that this point may never be reached. In what then does teaching consist in a St. John's seminar? Certainly not in the "pouring" of knowledge into the learner's soul, just as learning does not consist in listening and repeating what one has heard. It is hard for any tutor to resist the temptation to present his own opinions about the content of a book or about the hidden meaning of a phrase. Sometimes such a presentation may even be fruitful because it can provoke counter-argument and far-reaching discussion. Above all, however, the seminar leaders have to solicit the opinions of the students, to try to keep the discussion within the limits of the subject argued about, which is not at all easy, and to let the students participate as much as possible in the debate. Not seldom some students remain altogether silent, and it may become important to the tutors to understand the nature of this silence by talking to these students outside of the seminar. Conv.ersations between tutor and student outside of the seminar are, of course, generally most desirable and helpful. the "silent" students, their silence can ultimately be attributed to two very different causes. One is a lack of interest which implies the absence of that effort to learn, on which so much depends. If this attitude of the student persists and cannot be broken, it is not likely that the student will continue to be a student. The other cause is a deep and complex involvement in what is read and said, so deep and complex, in fact, that the student cannot afford to take a stand and to open his mouth, because he would have to say too many things at once. This student listens attentively, and his inside effort to clear his thoughts, by separating what does not belong together and by combining what does, may lead him to learn a great deal. Here again it is not possible to predict whether this learning will occur. But when it docs, it is bountiful and precious. Jacob Klein has been a Tutor at St. John's College since 1938. He was Dean of the College from 1949 to 1958. Born in Russia, Dean Klein studied philosophy, mathematics, and physics in Berlin and Marburg, Germany, where he received his Ph.D. degree, Before leaving Germany in 1937 he completed Greek Matllcmatica1 Thought and the Origin of Algebra (translated from the German by Eva Brann, Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 1968). His Commentary on Plato's Meno was published by the University of North Carolina Press in 1965; his "Introduction to Aristotle" may be found in Ancients and Moderns (Basic Books, 1964). He has lectured on "Ptolemy and Copernicus," "Leibniz," "The Nature of Nature," "On Precision," and others. �How Praise A World That May Not Las( By MARK VAN DOREN Governor King, President Weigle, members and friends of this College, I consider it a great honor to have been asked to speak on the occasion of the 275th anniversary of the College. Two-hundred-and-seventy-five years is a long time to survive. St. John's College more than survives, it flourishes. That I think is all that needs to be said about the College as of this moment; it flourishes and the evidence is everywhere. When I was asked by Dean Darkey to come today and address you, I wrote him as an old friend as well as a dean whom I respected and asked him if he had any suggestions about what I should talk about. Being a true dean, he answered my question s·criously. He didn't say, "oh, anything you like." He said, "I've often heard you talk about the act and the art of praise. I think I agree with you," he said, "that praise is the noblest act of man, and if you have anything that you want to praise, or any person you want to praise, this might be a time to do it." I said yes, of course, I would come and talk about praise. And I would even do some praising. I would praise everything and everybody. I would have the nerve to praise the world. For the world we live in must be praised; or its maker must, for it is he that we praise when we are s·erious. The greatest of all songs arc the Psalms, which are songs of praise. The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. * Speech given at "A Summer Celebration" at St. John's College, Santa Fe, New Mexico, on Sunday, August 8, 1971. They are songs in praise of things-of stars, mountains, trees-but only as these things testify to the power and beauty of their creator's mind, than which there is nothing more lovable or fearful in the universe we think we know. It is the presence among us of this mind that causes us to tremble, now in terror, now with joy. The Psalmist cried over and over: Praise ye the Lord, and never tired of doing so, as witness the song he numbered 148, which still was not the last one that he sang: Praise ye the Lord. Praise the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights. Praise ye him, all his angels; praise ye him, all his hosts. Praise ye him, sun and moon; praise him, all ye stars of light. Praise him, ye heavens of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens. Let them praise the name of the Lord; for he commanded, and they were created. He hath also sta blislied them for ever and ever; he hath made a decree which shall not pass. Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps; Fire, and hail; snow, and vapour; stormy wind fulfilling his word; Mountains, and all hills; fruitful trees, and all cedars; Beasts, and all cattle; creeping things, and flying fowl; Kings of the earth, and all people; princes and all judges of the earth; Both young men, and maidens; old men, and children; 3 �The College Let them praise the name of the Lord; for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven. Praise ye the Lord. The things he made, the Psalmist sings, he made for ever and ever. The world he fashioned was, is, and will be a world without end. Unthinkable that it should cease. Not only the power and beauty of the Lord, but his lastingness-perhaps that was his most stunning attribute, since it assured us that the world we walk on is lasting too. We shall not last, for we are grass, we wither and blow away; but the world itself-how can that ever be a thing, a place, that is not? For centuries, for millenniums, we did not ask this question; or if we did, we thought we knew the answer. We kept on praising as best we could the universe and him who made it. Our poetry when it was serious had no other subject, though often enough the subject was not named as I am naming it now. It had its variations, its disguises; truth at times delights in indirection and even dares at special moments to be difficult. Yet there was never a time when we knew how to imagine the world's coming to an end-literally that, with no trace of it left anywhere. Whereas we now are haunted by this thought; as I was, for example, a few years ago when I wrote a poem called So Fair a World It Was: So fair a world it was, So far away in the dark, the dark, Yet lighted, oh, so well, so well: Water and land, So clear, so sweet; So fair, it should have been forever. And would have been, and would have been, If-what? Be still. But what? Keep quiet, child. So fair it was, The memory is like a death That dies again; that dies again. The dialogue may be understood as taking place between two intelligences so far removed from Earth that the rumor of its extinction comes faintly yet clearly, as echoes travel; but those intelligences are near enough to have witnessed the beauty that is gone. The suggestion is of physical catastrophe; nothing less than the total disappearance of a planet. The fear does not always take this form. It is more likely to be the fear that life and thought will cease, so that no mind will exist to know the world that still is there-an equivalent catastrophe, perhaps, but at least a different one, though in fact it might be the more ghastly of the two. The strange thing is that at the same time with this poem, or very near the same time, I was writing a psahn of my own which contained no hint of catastrophe. 4 Praise Orion and the Great Bear, Praise icy Sirius so burning blue, Praise the slow dawn, but then the razor rim Of sun that in another hour Cannot be looked at lest it blind you; praise Mountain tops, praise valleys, praise the silver Streams that circle to\vns; praise people's houses; Praise sitting cats that wait for doors to open; Praise running dogs; praise women, men; Praise little boys who think their fathers perfect; Praise fathers who believe their Father perfect; Praise him because he is, because he has His being where no eye, no car can follow, No mind say whence or whither, Yet he is, and nothing else is Save as witness to his wonder, Save as hungering to praise himLet all things, then, great or little, Praise him, praise him Without end. How explain this inconsistency in me, except by saying that it is in others too: in all of us, no matter who we are or what we think we know? Or am I correct in saying all of us? Quite possibly the young are altogether singleminded here: the young, whose generation is the first one born into a world that wonders whether it will endure. Earlier generations had no such problem. Their members knew that the world was here to stay-nothing more simple, nothing more certain. Regardless of what they felt or did, the earth and the heavens above it would survive them. To the extent that no one can wholly believe this any more, those of us who can remember having believed it once are likely to find our minds curiously mixed: at one moment yes, at another no. But with the young this may not be true; and so their minds are single; they do not look ahead because there is nothing to see, and they do not look behind because only ruins-ghosts of worlds-are there; they look at the present moment, and have their own secret way of penetrating its mysteries, which seem to be for them alone. If, however, we are mixed of mind we oscillate between belief and despair: more often than not, I suspect, believing as we did before that the foundations of being are somehow firm. And better yet, bound to remain so. For there is something in the mind that cannot be satisfied with less than the prospect of infinite duration, whether it be of life, or the earth, or the stars, or simply everything. Let me confess at any rate that this is true for me. I hear that the earth is six billion years old, and that is not enough for me. I hear that it has a few billion years ahead of it, and I shudder at the thought that they are not innumerable. There was a queer cornfort for me in a chance remark I once heard Harlow Shapley make-a parenthetical remark, for he was really interested in something else-concerning the age of the earth. He said it was roughly as old as the great stars �December 1971 in Orion, compared to which I had always assumed that our planet was a newcomer in the universe. Childishly I was proud and pleased, though I did not risk my happiness by asking him how long he thought either we or Orion would last: I was afraid he knew, and could name the term. The terror of being lost in the ocean of time is something like another terror to which many of us have grown accustomed. The size of the universe has become so unimaginable, what with the discovery of galaxies too distant and too numerous even to count, that space can be a terror too, particularly if we hold on to the notion that what is there was once created, and still is kept in view by an intelligence whose location it is no longer possible to have sensible ideas about. Yet how to abandon all thought of that intelligence, even though we cannot even frame the questions of who, and what, and where? So I said once in a poem I called The God of Galaxies. The god of galaxies has more to govern Than the first men imagined, when one mountain Trumpeted his anger, and one rainbow, Red in the east, restored them to his love. One earth it was, with big and lesser torches, And stars by night for candles. And he spoke To single persons, sitting in their tents. Now streams of worlds, now powdery great whirlwinds Of universes far enough away To seem but fog-wisps in a bank of night So measureless the mind can sicken, tryingNow seas of darkness, shoreless, on and on Encircled by themselves, yet washing farther Than the last triple sun, revolving, shows. The god of galaxies-how shall we praise him? For so we must, or wither. Yet that word Of words? And where to send it, on which night Of winter stars, of summer, or by autumn In the first evening of the Pleiades? The god of galaxies, of burning gases, May have forgotten Leo and the Bull. But God remembers, and is everywhere. He even is the void, where nothing shines. He is the absence of his own reflection In the deep gulf; he is the dusky cinder Of pure fire in its prime; he is the place Prepared for hugest planets; black idea, Brooding between fierce poles he keeps apart. Those altitudes and oceans, though, with islands Drifting, blown immense as by a wind, And yet no wind; and not one blazing coast Where thought could live, could listen-oh, what word Of words? Let us consider it in terror, And say it without voice. Praise universes Numberless. Praise all of them. Praise Him. The two terrors differ in one important respect: if there is too much space, there is too little time, and the second terror is probably worse than the first. But both are at times intolerable to any mind (always excepting the young), and both of them therefore breed inconsistencies in us. In spite of what we think we know we go on assuming. an intelligible cosmos, just as we go on assuming that there is all the time in the world-an ancient phrase that comes in patly here. In other words, we go on writing psalms, and in some of them we betray our faith that the world will last indefinitely long: will forever and ever be there for minds to n1casure and for souls to love. At least there are moments when we do this, in between moments when we listen to the prophets and accept their words of doom. For the time beinganother ancient phrase-this is our predicament. And, it may be, this is our distinction. How then shall we praise a world that may not last? What would be praiseworthy about it if it were unable to endure? But say it may last. What then? Shall we have been silent on the entire subject? With half our minds could we not have speculated upon the possibility that the world is durable after all, and infinitely so? My final poem, written incidentally for this occasion, com~ menccs there. How praise a world that will not be Forever? Stillness then. Time Sleeping, never to wake. No prince's Kiss. No prince. Praise? Even The echo of it dies, even Memory, in the last brain That loved it, withers away, and mind Not even dozes, being done With work that mattered not at all. How then praise nothing? Yet that day Has never dawned. Here is the world So beautiful, being old, so Mindful of its maker-what Of him when that day comes-you say It must-what then of him, and of this Place so crowded with his creaturesWith us all-oh, praise the time That's left, praise here and now, praise Him that by his own sweet will May suddenly remake the world Forever, ever, ever, ever. Mark Van Doren, poet, author, and teacher, is a graduate of The University of Illinois and Columbia University. During the 1920's he was the literary editor of The Nation. He was a lecturer at St. John's College from 1937 to 1957 and a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors from 1943 to 1953. In 1939 he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for his Collected Poems. He is the author of (among other hooks) Liberal Education. In May, 1959, he was named an Honorary Fellow of St. John's College. 5 �On The Study Of Politics In A Liberal Education* By MARTIN DIAMOND W. begin by agreeing with what St. John's College and Mr. Klein and Mr. Strauss have taught us, that liberal education consists in "studying with the proper care the great books which the greatest minds have left behind."' We know also that the angle of approach to those great books must vary according to the nature of what is being studied. My concern here is primarily with the angle of approach appropriate to the liberal study of politics. Let us begin from a solid foundation: Who pays? Who foots the bill for education? There are no free schools. Someone always has to supply the books, real estate, food, shelter, wages-the necessary eqnipment. And, even more, someone always has to supply the young who are to be educated-the necessary matter. Neither the necessary equipment nor the necessary matter belong as of right to the educators; on the contrary, the physical academy and the young always belong as of right to someone else. Someone else always pays and provides, be it philanthropist, church, parent, or the ruling element in the polity. Now what will the provider-payer ordinarily demand, and what is he entitled to? Ordinarily he is quite likely to demand too much; liberal education, whose claims arc of course ultimately unlimited, is always in danger of *Paper prepared for the 275th Anniversary Colloquium at St. Jolm's College in Annapolis, Thursday, October 14, 1971. The author wishes to thank the Henry Salvatori Center for the Study of Individual Freedom of Claremont Men's Co1lcgc for support. I "What is Liberal Education?" in Leo Strauss, Liberalism: Ancient and Modern (New York: Basic Books, 1968), p. 3. See also "On Liberal Education," by Jacob Klein, in Proceedings ot the Colloquium on The Liberal Arts Curriculum (published by St. Mary's College, California, 1965), p. 4. 6 being made to conform to the interests and prejudices of those who pay. But it is not enough to gratify ourselves in smiting with easy academic rhetoric the philistine foe. The other question remains: What is the payer entitled to? Surely he is entitled to some form of fidelity to the regime or, at the very least, "a decent respect to" its fundamental opinions. These are the minimum terms the payer is entitled to demand as a condition for supplying the educators with his children and his substance. Some balance, then, must be struck between the unlimited claims of liberal education and the demands of the regime, or at least some mode must be found of accommodating those demands. Both justice and expediency demand this; there is no earthly reason why the payer should pay unless the balance is struck, and there is in fact no way educators can get hold of the children and the substance without the consent of the payer. It is therefore prudent for liberal education to take the initiative in striking a sound balance, a balance that makes possible a true liberal education while also accommodating those who pay. take this prudential initiative means to give to the regime and its opinions a central and respected place in the liberal study of politics.2 The political situa2 This presupposes, of course, a decent regime. If the regime is indecent, then open formal liberal education is impossible; teachers and student::; will be able to proceed only covertly if at all. After all, like the good man, the good professor cannot be a good citizen of an indecent regime. But none of this has anything to do with our situation here and now. We live in a country that defers to higher education, clumsily perhaps, hut with an unprecedented1y lavish hand, and that gives to liberal education an astonishing freedom, even encourage· ment, to pursue its ends. �December 1971 tion of liberal education requires this. But not only expediency and justice, that is to say, political reasons, require this, but educational reasons as well require that one begin the liberal study of politics with the respectful consideration of one's own regime. There are four such related reasons. All three turn on the following view: that the reasonable educational procedure is to begin with the familiar and then render it problematic. This is especially the case with political education. Nowadays all will readily agree with making political things problematic, especially the most revered things, since it is the doctrine of the age to do so; moreover, liberal education does indeed require that every opinion be treated ultimately as lacking in authority, that is, as being problematic, until tested and endorsed by reason. What is not so clear today is why you must start respectfully with the familiar. First, respectful consideration of the familiar is required because the study of politics is a practical inquiry, one aimed at producing practical wisdom. That is, it does not aim primarily at achieving a purely theoretical understanding but at making students capable of just political judgments and actions. 3 If only theoretical understanding were the aim, and not the capacity to judge and act, then the student of politics would not need to know anything at all about his own country; knowledge of Timbuctoo or of life in any remote time and place could supply the "premises and subject matter" for the theoretical understanding of politics. But the whole point of the liberal study of politics is precisely to be able to deal with one's own country, to improve it, to shape it in some image of justice. The first and foremost political question is what should we do? "The relation of man to his citizenship, to the obligations that flow from his being a citizen, a member of a po1itical community-this relation is one of the great and standing themes of all classical philosophy." 4 His citizenship, l1is political community; not just citizenship and political community in general, but the particular time and place that belongs to him. For us this means that the liberal study of politics requires a full consideration of the country that belongs to us. 3 This does not mean that teachers and students are to he activists, nor that they must study and discuss chiefly the political issues of the day, Rather, the position argued here offers a mean between the arid "value-free" political science of positivism and the mere assertiveness of the new demands for a "relevant" society-changing political science. Against the former, I would argue that political science is ludicrous if not pointed to the questions of justice and nobility and "what we ought to do." But as against the latter, I would argue that political science professors (and their students) have no necessary competence (let alone the right) to deal authoritatively with immediate questions of public policy, T11at is, they lack the experience and prudence necessary to wise political action; indeed, professors and students may 8S such be peculiarly unfitted for wise political action. But what they can and must do is to engage in the liberal study of politics tha.t forms the capacity in men to judge and act justly as citizens. ·!Jacob Klein, "On Liberal Education," p. 7. SECOND, the natural starting point for learning to love what is just and noble is the love of one's own. The aim of the liberal study of politics is to be able to love justice and nobility wherever and in whomever it is found. But humans do not begin with that capacity; they are nahually inclined to love what is close to and belongs to them. That is where the ordinary human passions begin; it is good teaching to begin with what the student already loves or at least is concerned about, and hence what "grabs" him. But the teacher should not lay rude hands on this parochial love; it contains what will make something superior possible. The ascent from opinion to philosophical knowledge-the final aim of liberal education-should begin with proper reflection on what in one's own ·is worthy of love. This means an inquiry into what is just and hence truly lovable in one's own country, an inquiry which points the student to the task of perfecting his own regime and, ultimately, to the question of what is just simply. (What other defensible reason is there for teachers to cause students to question the beliefs that they have received from their parents and their country?) Third, and closely related to the previous point, is what I understand to be Aristotle's argument in the Ethics: namely, that politics cannot be taught properly unless the student brings to the study a decent stock of received opinions and habits. There can be no ascent without some such solid starting-point: Political reasoning cannot start from questions and proceed to con~ victions; it must start from convictions in order to be elevated to philosophic quesions. 5 These convictions are not to he ignored or rudely challenged; the student is not to empty his mind of the received opinions, nor is he to he made to question the very basis of political morality. He is not to begin by questioning whether the things he believes to be good are good at all; this would plunge the student into bottomless questioning from which he cannot rise. (Surely we have all been guilty parties as teachers or students to such binges of nihilistic questionings; Aristotle soberly warns us to avoid such fruitless pursuits.) Rather, beginning with whatever the student already takes to be good in his own regime, the educational task is to consider affirmatively what that good is, how it works, what its implications are, etc. The student is to be led from and through the received opinions toward the full explication of what he believes. To explicate fully means to develop precisely the meaning, nuances, the grounds, and implications of opinion. When ;, Although the Republic asks questions which Aristotle does not openly raise in the Ethics or Politics, on this issue what Socrates docs is similar to Aristotle's procedure: TI1e dialectic needs as its startingpoint the decent opinion of Cephalus regarding speaking truth and paying one's dehts. Each actual decent polity supplies the foundation for the inquiry into what a complete polity would be. 7 �The College that affirmative development of what the opmwn is, 1s completed, the deeper questions of why the opinion is good will have been answered or will then be in a position to be answered. The full explication of received decent opinions culminates in philosophic understanding. Finally, the aim of the political art is to achieve through reason the regulation of interests and passions; that is, the political art is the "charioteer'' in action in the public arena. Since politics seeks a kind of transcendence of the bodily and spirited demands, the liberal study of politics seeks to make the transcendence possible. But there is a danger to be avoided, namely, the danger of a spurious and delusive sense of transcendence that con~ sists in being able to mouth the formulae of political reason while remaining destitute of the capacity to govern one's passions. The danger may be increased when political study begins with the remote and unfamiliar; it is easy to be wise about the passions of others. The danger may perhaps be lessened by the careful study of one's own political things; it is harder but more rewarding to become wise about one's own fathers. The wisdom thus gained is an earned and action-guiding transcendence of one's own prejudices and passions. Now these are general reasons why the liberal study of politics should commence in the sympathetic consideration of one's own regime. The nature of the American regime supplies compelling particular reasons why liberal education in America should follow that course. These may be stated as four reasons. First, the defining American experience was the founding of the republic. The major themes of the American polity were "writ large" in that event. Now founding is the greatest of political acts; it comprehends all the others. Moreover, the American founding is unusual in that its record was quite fully preserved for us; it is there in the form of writings, "great books," as it were. Accordingly, we have available to us in our own past, in our own language, in the words of our own "fathers," instruction of a profound kind regarding the nature of political things. Second, this instruction that the study of the Found· ing affords has peculiarly the merit that it reveals the relationship between practice and theory (in the modern sense). In much of political behavior, the principles that underlie the action are often concealed or inchoate or confused; but in the American Founding the rival principles are quite clearly and fully stated, and are in· telligible to the student when properly presented. He learns to see very great republican statesmen at work, adapting principles to circumstances and molding circum~ stances in the direction of principles. This is edifying political instruction and enables the student to see with greater clarity the principles that make intelligible the political life he sees about him in America today. 8 Third, the American political experience tests one of the great questions of modernity-the problem of democracy. The old-fashioned view was quite correct: The American regime is indeed an "experiment in democracy"; Tocqueville rightly understood that America was where the question of democracy was being tested. The student, therefore, has 11in his bones" the experience with which to make meaningful to him the problem of democracy. The proper study of American writings and events opens the student to broader reflections on that problem. Fourth, to enlarge upon the preceding point, the American regime is a paradigm of modernity. It is in a way the modern regime. The American things are peculiarly instinct with the virtues and vices that modern men must understand. To study the American regime is therefore to begin to consider the conflict between the moderns and the ancients. This is especially so when the Founders are studied because they openly grappled with that conflict when it was, at least in part, a matter of choice; they were thoughtful partisans of modernity. And if to consider the question between antiquity and modernity is the necessary preparation today for us to consider philosophy, then the study of American political things is almost indispensable to a liberal education. In any event, such a study is likely to have a sobering effect on the young student who becomes fascinated by antiquity, which is all to the good. The question between the ancients and the moderns is far too difficult and poignant to permit any glibness, to permit anything but the utmost seriousness. One proper approach into that issue is through an appreciation of modernity as manifested in our own country. recommendation that follows from all this is clear: at the beginning if not at the center of the liberal study of politics, for this time and place, must be the respectful, supportive, and ultimately philosophic con· sideration of the great writings and principles and history of the American polity. Now this has a happy additional advantage. It helps insure against a danger peculiarly im· portant in modern mass higher education. When millions go to colleges and universities, some of those who are seeking a liberal education are unfortunately not capable of it. As it were, the many and the few are now to be found in each classroom. Liberal education, it must be remembered, is strong stuff; it can injure those incapable of handling its demands. Every teacher has had the experience (although not all know it) of unintentionally injuring some of his students. Some shatter religious beliefs, others debunk sexual "mores," and others mock the "values of the marketplace." Still other incautiously or too loudly teach philosophic truths that cannot be received with understanding and prudence by young students. The danger is not only that individual students �December 1971 can be left disoriented, less decent, less capable of common sense; but the danger is on a large enough scale now that the regime may be deprived of the kinds of citizens it needs. 'l11is danger is averted, I believe, if the sympathetic consideration of the American regime is properly stressed in the teaching of politics. When this is done, each student will be more likely to take from his education what he is capable of receiving. Those students who can go all the way will have been given sound guidance; and those who inevitably "drop out" along the way will have had their opinions and characters improved by what they were able to understand. This no doubt has an "elitist" ring to it. But liberal education cannot avoid an aristocratic implication; however, it is possible to understand this implication as appropriate to a democratic regime. Liberal education is the ladder by which we try to ascend from mass democracy to democracy as originally meant. Liberal education is the necessary endeavor to found an aristocracy within democratic mass society. Liberal education reminds those members of a mass democracy who have ears to hear, of human greatness. 6 The American tradition offers strong support for this view. For example, Thomas Jefferson often spoke enthusiastically of a "natural aristocracy" and, indeed, considered it a great advantage of democracy that it elevated to high position men of the natural rather than of the artificial aristocracy. In justifying an educational scheme he had devised, which would have sent only "the most promising subjects" to college, Jefferson argued that Worth and genius would thus have been sought out from every condition of life and completely prepared by education for defeating the competition of wealth and birth for public trusts.7 In short, the American materials permit, indeed necessitate-this is their merit-the kind of reflection on democracy that is proper to a liberal education. ,, ,, * IN responding on behalf of political science to the question, "what-and how-should a liberal arts college teach," I have argued that the liberal study of politics, while opening the student to the just and noble simply, 6 7 Leo Strauss, op. cit., p. 7. Quoted in Jacob Klein, op. cit., p. 8. Jefferson earlier had put a similar point in very h1unt language: "By this means twenty of the best geniuses will be raked from the rubbish annually" (Query XIV in his Notes on the State of Virginia) . should commence in the sympathetic understanding of the American regime. But, as is no doubt well known to you, not all political scientists take this approach to the matter. Or to put it another way: Most would disagree. Given the dominant themes of contemporary American politic0J science, most would say something as follows: "There isn't anything 'just or noble' to aim at; and, in any event, it hasn't anything to do with us because we, as political scientists, can't know what it is; moreover, the sympathetic study of the American constitutional order is emphatically not the way to get to the 'just and noble,' whatever that is." In short, American political science manages to combine a continued adherence to the positivist distinction between "facts and values" with a hostility to or contempt for the fundamental principles of the American political order. Such a political science is profoundly mistaken, I believe, and can offer no guidance to liberal education; which is no doubt why in fact political science has been conspicuously so little heard from on that subject during the last generation. First, as to the hostility to or contempt for the American constitutional order. American political science, in large measure, rests upon the view that the Founders' consti~ tutional ~'frame of government" is either irrelevant_ or harmful: irrelevant because it has been outmoded by the informal workings of history; harmful because it places unnecessary and even crippling restraints on the democratic process. This is not the place to argue these matters out. I must leave them at the level of assertion as to the fact, while I offer two reflections on why it is the fact. The contempt and hostility depend upon a theory of democracy that is, in n1y opinion, inferior to the understanding of, say, Madison and Tocqueville. That is, the contemporary view is insufficiently appreciative of why democracy is problematic and, hence, of what is necessary to guard against its defects. Being insufficiently aware ofwhatcan go wrong, contemporary political science tends to ignore or to be hostile to the moderating and restraining character of the constitutional system. Accordingly, it cannot see in the American regime the foundation for the liberal study of politics. Tms hostility to the regime rests also npon an utopian theory of progress. The idea of utopia or progress makes it impossible to be faithful to one's present regime, or even to wish to live at peace with it. Every actual regime must be transformed and superseded until the final conflict has resulted in the final regime (if that word could then still be used). On this view, politics cannot consist. merely in dealing with the evils of the day within the existing political framework, but must always point toward the transformation of the regime itself. This is a particularly rich source of contemporary mischief. The particular mischief that concerns us here is the view that 9 �The College education, therefore, must be the midwife not of thought but of historical change, of progress. Education must be in the service of Utopia. This view rightly leads to hostility toward the American regime for the good reason that that regime is profoundly and effectively turned against the utopian tcnclcncy. 8 But if a sympathetic understanding of the American regime is the necessary startingpoint for the liberal study of politics, then a political science incJpable of that appreciation is likewise incapable of guiding liberal education. Contemporary American political science is incapable of guiding liberal education for a still more important reason. Not only does it foreswear the proper starting-point, but it also denies the traditional end of the liberal study of politics-namely, an understanding of political things that enables one to judge and act justly and nobly; moreovcr1 it offers to liberal education no serious alternative end of its own. It denies the traditional end of purpose and is unable to supply one of its own, because of an adherence to positivism or, still more radically, to historicism, both of which deny the "cognitive" status of ends or "values" like justice and nobility. It cannot speak to the proper purpose of liberal education, or of anything else for that matter, because it denies the possibility of proper purposes or of knowledge of them. Contemporary American political science abdicates the study or purpose or ends and consigns them to the realm of "values" which, according to the positivist "fact-value" distinction, is radically separate from the realm of reasoned argument, that is to say, from the realm of education. Such a science has emphatically abdicated its station as guide to liberal education. Moreover, it is a science that has degraded itself because its view of "values" -that they are merely the expression of subrational determinants of human behavior-denies to the political the unique element that constitutes its being. Politics is constituted by the rivalry of human opinion regarding the just and noble things. That is to say, politics is an expression of the uniquely human capacity to reason about such matters. (And the liberal study of politics consists in learning to reason well about such matters.) But the fact-value distinction denies the authenticity of the human capacity to reason about justice anci nobility; what passes for such reasoning, it is argued, is mcrc1y rationalization that has its true causes in the subterranean social, psychological, and economic forces that determine the content of human thought. Thus, in denying the clement that gives to the political its being, the fact-value distinction is fatal to political science. But it is the veritable spawning ground of the other social sciences: They rush to fill the gap created when political science improvidently abdicates its proper subject matter. Hence R The frenzied criticism of America by the contemporary Leftconsider, for example, Marcusc-is due precisely to the obdurately effective resistance of the American regime to its aspirations. 10 the triumphs of sociology, psychology, economics, the social sciences, the behavioral sciences. (Perhaps there has been one more tiny triumph in the title given to this panel session: "Politics & Society," Why "and Society"? What aspect of "Society" is worth a moment's consideration that does not have primarily a political character or bearing?) But if guidance for the liberal study of politics is not to be found in the dominant American political science, in what kind of political science is it to be sought? The answer is easy to give, at least here at St. John's-Aris~ totelian political science, a political science that is above all an inquiry into what are proper pnrposes. Fortunately for me, it is not necessary in this place or on this occasion to attempt to give an account of what Aristotelian political science is. It sufficed for present purposes simply to have pointed towards the kind of political science that is necessary for the liberal study of politics. * * * * To transcend one's time requires first to be fully of it. The road to political philosophy lies through the decent opinions of one's own regime. The liberal study of politics requires a political science that can guide the student safely along that road. Martin Diamond, the former Burnet C. Wohlford Professor of American Political Institutions, Claremont Men's College and Claremont Graduate School, is now Professor of Political Science, Northern Illinois University. He is co-author of The Democratic Republic: An Iutroduction to American Government, 1966, and is the author of many articles and essays, including "Democracy and the Federalist: A Reconsideration of the Framers' Intent," American Political Science Review, 1959; a chapter on The Federalist in History of Political Philosophy, 1963; and "Conservatives, Liberals, and the Constitution" in Left, Right, and Center, 1967. �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES ST. JOHN'S CELEBRATES AN ANNIVERSARY pated in all of the panels during the three day colloquium. On Saturday, Martin Meyerson, President of the University of Pennsylvania, spoke on "The I vary Tower of Babel" at the convocation outside Woodward Hall. An academic procession composed of St. John's College Faculty, students, alumni, and the Board of Visitors and Governors along with the representatives of over seventy colleges, universities, and learned societies, began the special afternoon event. Greetings were read by Miss Helen Anastaplo, Class of 1972, for the students; Robert A. Goldwin, Dean in Annapolis, and William A. Darkey, Dean in Santa Fe, for the Faculty; William R. Tilles, President of the Alumni Association, for the alumni; Arland F. Christ-Janer, President of the College Entrance Examination Board and former Treasurer and Vice President of St. John's College,. for the colleges, universities, and learned societies; and the Honorable Blair Lee, Lt. Governor of Md., for the State. President Richard D. Weigle read a congratulatory telegram from President Richard M. Nixon which praised the College for its "proud role in the historv of our nation," and noted that "gene~ations of its graduates have richly contributed to the development of our culture and to the well-being of our society." President Nixon added that St. John's "has remained steadfast in its commitment to individual selffulfillment" To assist the College in celebrating its special occasion, the Mayor of Annapolis, Roger Moyer, the Executive of Anne Arundel County, Joseph Alton, Jr., and the Governor of the State of Maryland, Marvin Mandel, proclaimed Saturday, October 16, 1971, as "St John's College Day" in their respective governmental districts. Additional activities during the anniversary celebration included Homecoming for the alumni and a meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors. St. John's College in Annapolis celebrated its 275th anniversary with a concert, an academic colloquium, and a convocation on October 12th through October 16th this year. The College was founded as King William's School in July, 1696, when the House of Burgesses in the Colony of Maryland passed and Governor Francis Nicholson signed the Petitionary Act to "our Dread Sovereigne," King William III. A concert by the renowned J uilliard String Quartet began the anniversary festivities on Tuesday, October 12th. It was sponsored by Miss Caroline Newton as a memorial to the late Victor Zuckerkandl, a member of the St. John's College Faculty from 1948 to 1964. The theme of the academic colloquium was "What-and How-Should A Liberal Arts College Teach?" Three panels met during the week; they were "Literature and Language," "Politics The Juilliard String Quartet performed works by Richter, Verdi, and Beethoven at the concert opening the 275th anniversary celebration activities in Annapolis. and Society," and "Mathematics and Science." The panelists also participated in a seminar on Plato's Mcno and visited regular St. John's College seminars. Papers were presented before the panels met and were the basis for discussion. Their authors were Martin Diamond, Professor of Political Science, Northern Illinois University; Holger Olaf Nygard, Professor of English, Duke University; Alfred Morton Bark, Professor of Physics, University of California at Irvine; and Jacob Klein, Tutor, St. John's College in Annapolis. z Near the end of each of the two- ~ hour meetings, the discussion was open ~ to the audience. Over 20 distinguished oi educators, writers, and editors partici- i 11 �The College COLLOQUIUM PANELISTS Panelists at the 275th Anniversary Colloquium included (left foreground, clockwise) : Gertrude Himmelfarb, Kenneth Eble, William Fishback, Holger Nygard, Jacob Klein, Mark Roelofs, Frederic Ness, John Millis, Alfred Bork, Robert Spaeth, Norman Podhoretz, Alexander Bickel, George Anastaplo, Irving Kristol, Winfree Smith, Martin Diamond, Robert Russell, Stillman Drake, Rogers Albritten, Robert Goldwin, and Leon Kass. Other Tutors participating in the Colloquium were Robert Bart, Eva Brann, Howard Fisher, John Kieffer, Samuel Kutler, Hugh McGrath, Edward Sparrow, and Elliott Zuckerman. Panel topics were "Literature and Language," "Politics and Society," "Mathematics and Science," and ' The St. John's College Seminar." 1 Photos by M. E. Warren Students, faculty, and other guests listen intently at the "Politics and Society" panel in the Conversation Room in the Key Memorial Hall. 275TH ANNIVERSARY COLLOQUIUM Mark Roelofs (left), A1fred Bork, and Jacob Klein listen to discussion during a meeting of the panels. 12 Alfred Bark, Professor in the Department of Physics at the University of California at Irvine, mulls over a point with Edward Sparrow, Tutor. �December 1971 Charles Finch (left) and Russell Leavenworth 1e8d the academic procession from Francis Scott Key Memorial Hall to Woodward Hall. Senior Helen Anastaplo brings greetings from the students. 275TlH ANNIVERSARY CONVOCATION Delegates from colleges, universities, and learned societies line the front walk at Woodward Hall during the convocation ceremonies. Martin Meyerson, President of the University of Pennsylvania, speaks on "The Ivory Tower of Babel." 13 �The College NEw "ToWER BuiLDING" DEDICATED IN 275TH ANNIVERSARY OBSERVANCE AT SANTA FE The dedication of the new Tower Building, an address by Norman Cousins, a concert by the College Chamber Orchestra and the opening of an exhibition of works by Eliot and Aline Porter were scheduled for the December 3rd-4th weekend in Santa Fe. Invitations were sent to friends of the College throughout the Southwest for the 275th anniversary observance. The Friday evening concert was held in the Peterson Student Center. There was a meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors Saturday morning and a buffet luncheon at noon. The 2:30 p.m. Convocation and Dedication Ceremony featured an ad~ ~ dress by Mr. Cousins, former editor of 2 Saturday Review and a member of the 275th Anniversary Campaign National Committee. After tours of the new building and the display of Eliot Porter's photographs of Greece and Turkey and Aline Porter's paintings, guests enjoyed a reception in the Peterson Student Center. The new three-story building, design by architect William R. Buckley of Santa Fe, is modified territorial style similar to the other structures on the seven-year-old campus. There is a bell tower with a 740-pound bell on top and a portal on the sides facing the campus plaza. The Tower Building provides space for administratives offices and a large section of the College Library. It relieves classroom space used for ad~ ministrative offices in the Evans The new Tower Building is given a snow initiation previous to its dedication in Santa Fe. The bell was placed in the tower at a later date. Santa Fe, former chairman of the jobs as yard work, baby sitting, tutor- Board of Visitors and Governors, and Mr. John Murchison of Dallas, Texas. The 18,000 square feet of floor space ing, repair, cleaning, and driving. The advisory committee includes: houses offices for the president, vice president, dean, assistant deans, registrar, treasurer, business manager, admissions director, director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education, and public information director, as well as a conference room, supply area, space for printing and mailing activities, and up to 25,000 volumes in notices of the serviee in its monthly the library section, including three important music collections. mailings. Sewll & Stanton Contractors of Santa Fe was the general contractor. ST. JoHN's HosTs FENCING TouRNAMENT SANTA FE OPENS STUDENT EMPLOYMENT OFFICE Science Hall, and also frees one student residence building which was used for faculty offices and a portion of the library. Gifts totaling $550,000 for this project were contributed by the Fleisch- citizens mann Foundation of Reno, Nevada; College. The office advertised in the the Kresge Foundation of Detroit, Michigan; Mrs. Walter Driscoll of newspaper and mailed notices that students were available for such part time 14 Vice President J. Burchenal Ault, Buildings and Grounds Superintendent Stanley Nordstrum and Treasurer Kirk C. Tuttle of the College, and Mr. John Dcndahl, Mrs. Daniel T. Kelly, Jr., Mrs. Abe Silver and Mr. E. R. "Ned" Wood of the community. Mr. Wood is an officer of the First National Bank of Santa Fe which offered to include Senior Seth Cropsey set up a Student Employment Office at the Santa Fe campus this fall with the assistance of an advisory committee of local and administrators at the St. John's in Santa Fe was the host on November 13-l4th for a five-state invitational fencing tournament, be- lieved to be the first of its kind ever held in New Mexico. Fifty-one fencers from Texas, Colorado, Arizona, California and New l\!Jexico competed in beginner and advanced divisions. The tournament was conducted by Mr. Istvan Fehervary, Director of Student Activities at St. John's. �December 1971 LIBRARY AssociATES COMPLETE THIRD YEAR OF BooK-AUTHOR LUNCHEONS The St. John's College Library Associates in Santa Fe have completed their third successful year of community Book and Author Luncheons. The noon time programs at the downtown La Fonda hotel were started in 1969. The thirteenth luncheon was held November 12th with Eliot Porter, E. Boyd and Stan Steiner as speakers. The purpose of the series is to give people in Santa Fe the opportunity to hear and m,cct authors from this area and to help build the St. John's library collectwn. The luncheons are directed by the chairman of the Librarv Associates Committee, Richard :~/Iartin Stern, who also is president of the Mystery Writers of America. Some of the leading writers of the Southwest have donated their time to participate in the programs. National Committee for St. John's 275th Anniversary Campaign, lives with his wife at San Patricio, New Mexico. She is a sister of Andrew Wyeth. Their paintings have been exhibited in major museums throughout the nation. The Porters are the parents of a summer '71 graduate of St. John's, Patrick Porter. Eliot Porter is internationally known for his outdoor color photography and books on conservation, including The Place No One Knew: Glen Canyon, Galapagos, and In Wildness is the Preservation of the World. Mrs. Porter is an outstanding painter, influenced both by her native New England and the Southwest, where they have lived for many years. The gallery also exhibited a collection of wood block prints by Shiko Munakata, "Views of the Tokaido" under the auspices of the International Exhibitions Foundation, Washington, D. C. TITOS VANDIS VISITS ANNAPOLIS Titos Vandis, star of the film "Never on Sunday" and several Broad~ way productions, recently performed parts from Greek comedies and tragedies in Annapolis. He played the messengers from Aeschylus' "The Persians/' Sophocles' "Oedipus Rex," and Euripides' "lphi~ geneia in Aulis." He also directed and appeared with six St. John's students in a thirty minute scene from Aristophanes' ''Lysistrata.'' Following the performance the R.A.M. Film Society showed "Never on Sunday." Mr. Vandis has starred in Broadway productions such as "On A Clear Day You Can See Forever," "11)'3 Darling" "Man o f La ~1ancha," and "Zorba." ' ' l HURD, WYETH, PoRTER EXHIBITS AT SANTA FE GALLERY . Fall shows at the St. John's Gallery m Santa Fe featured the work of Peter Hurd, his wife Henriette Wyeth, and Eliot and Aline Porter. Hurd, who is a member of the ADULT COMMUNITY SEMINARS HELD IN ANNAPOLIS The Adult Community Seminars for Fall 1971 have been held in Annapolis wrth Tutors Geoffrey Comber, Alvin Main, Nicholas Maistrellis, John Sarkissian, and Robert L. Spaeth leading the discussions. The readings have been "The Starry Messenger" and "Letter to the Grand Duchecs Christiana" by Galileo, Elements of Chemistry by Lavoisier, Ongu1 of Specres by Darwin, selected poems by Donne, selected sonnets by Shakespeare, selected poems by Yeats and "The Love Song of J. Alfred Pru: frock" by Eliot. PRESS Cum HoNoRs PRESIDENT WEIGLE The Santa Fe Press Club awarded a plaque to President Weigle on October Jst for his enrichment of the Santa Fe community through St. John's College. "Vv'e cite Dr. vVeigle for offering our young people the chance to be active learners to read ' ' to question, to talk and to listen," said Club President H. D. Woodruff, and ''for enriching Santa Fe with a beautiful college that teaches great ideas from great books." Referring to Dr. Weigle's Asian experience, Woodruff added, 'Tic knows the Far East as well as the Far West; he bring; the wisdom of the ancient and modern worlds together into a community of learning." 'l11e awards are presented monthly by the club to recognize people making outstanding contributions to the positive development of Santa Fe. ANNAPOLIS CAMPUS NEWS Douglas Allanbrook, Miss Eva Brann, Thomas K. Simpson, and Edward J. Sparrow, Jr., were recently appointed to the Addison E. Mullikii1 Tutorships, and Robert A. Goldwin, Dean, was appointed to the . first Richard Hammond Elliott Tutorship. Douglas Allanbrook and Miss Wye Jamison, Tutors, were married on Friday, November 26, 1971. The new address for Mr. and Mrs. Laurence Berns, Tutors, is: The Pond, 56 Station Road, Haddenham, Ely, Cambs, England. Geoffrey Comber, Assistant Dean and Tutor, and Tutors Harvey Flaumenlraft and J olrn Sarkissian served on a 275th Anniversary Celebration subcommittee charged with the responsibility of choosing colleges and universities to be represented at the anniversary convocation in October. William DeHart, Tutor, and Mrs. Mary P. Felter, Director of Public Information~ were co-chairmen of the 1971-72 United Fund campaign; they surpassed last year's goal. Clrarles T. Elzey, Treasurer, and James E. Grant~ Business Manager, were hosts for the quarterly meeting of the Maryland Association of College Business Officers at the College on November 17th. Over 47 business office personnel from 22 Maryland colleges attended the meeting; it was the largest gathering of the personnel in the association's recent history. 15 �The College In July the latest Rand McNally publication in the Public Affairs Series edited by Robert A. Goldwin was published. It is entitled How Democratic Is America? Response to the New Left Challenge. Mr. Goldwin lectured in Santa Fe at the Graduate Institute on August 1st, and on September 8th he read a paper on Locke entitled "The Politics of Self-Interest" at a meeting of the American Political Science Association in Chicago. He is currently planning a trip to the Soviet Union, Bulgaria, and France under the auspices of the Comparative and International Education Society. John S. Kieffer, Tutor, directed the February Freshman Program and led the seminar for that program during the summer. He will also direct the February Freshman again this year. Ile continues to research files of Scott Buchanan in support of Stringfellow Barr's projected history of the foundation of the new program at the College. Jacob Klein, Tutor, gave a lecture entitled "Plato's 'Ion'" at Catholic University of America in Washington, D. C., on November II th. He also participated in a seminar on Plato's "Sophist" the next day with University graduate students. Russell E. Leavenworth, on leave from his position as Professor of English at Fresno State College in California, is serving as Associate Di~ rector of Development. His daughter Natalie is a sophomore at the College in Santa Fe. Julius Rosenberg, Director of Development, was chairman of the Professional Division (Anne Arundel) County campaign for the United Fund. College Nurse Juliana Rugg is on the Anne Arundel County Board of Planned Parenthood. Robert L. Spaeth, Tutor, and his senior math class were filmed by WBAlrTV, an N.B.C. affiliate, for a story on the College and the financial crisis of private institutions of higher education. Edward G. Sparrow, Jr., Tutor, delivered a lecture entitled "Jesus of Nazareth: Emmanuel and Lamb of 16 God" on October 15th at the new Thomas Aquinas College in California. COLLEGE LAUNCHES ANNIVERSARY FuND St. John's College in Annapolis and in Santa Fe has launched its 275th Anniversary Campaign Fund with a goal of $15 million, President Richard D. Weigle announced in November. In making the announcement Dr. Weigle also reported advanced gifts and pledges of $5,818,185, representing 38% of the goal. Of this total, $1,460,462 has been designated for the Annapolis campus and $4,357,723 for the Santa Fe campus. The primary objectives of the threeyear drive on each campus are en- dowed tutorships, lectureships, and scholarships, as well as unrestricted monies for current operating expenses. Annapolis seeks to add $3.25 million to its present $8.5 million endowment. Santa Fe requires new substantial permanent funds, and has set a goal of $4.75 million. The chairman of the National Committee for the campaign is Mr. Victor G. Bloede III, Class of 1941, Chairman of the Board of Benton and Bowles of New York City. Honorary co-chairmen are Richard F. Cleveland of Baltimore, Maryland; Paul Mellon of Upperville, Virginia; and Mark Van Doren of Falls Village, Connecticut. All three are Honorary Fellows of the College. Mr. Paul D. Newland, Provost of the Annapolis campus, notes that the cost of a college education in the United States has risen to an almost prohibitive level and that gifts to endowment as well as current operating budgets are absolutely necessary if independent colleges are to continue to survive. St. John's College in Annapolis is included in the Annapolis City Historic District, and some of the funds, he added, would he used to renovate historic buildings on the campus. Advance gifts and pledges have assured two small new buildings, one on each campus, Dr. Weigle said. In Santa Fe the Tower Building is being completed this month to house administrative offices and part of the Library. Gifts aggregating $550,000 for this project have been contributed by the Fleischmann Foundation of Reno, Nevada; Kresge Foundation of Detroit, Michigan; Mrs. Walter F. Driscoll of Santa Fe, New Mexico; and Mr. John Murchison of Dallas, Texas. The Annapolis architectural plans for the Harrison Health Center are about to go out for bid. This structure, which will also contain two faculty apartments, is the gift of Mrs. John T. Harrison of Green Farms, Connecticut, in memory of her late husband, a member of the Class of 1907. Other major advance gifts and pledges include a million dollars from Mr. Paul Mellon; $1,250,000 from Mrs. Duane L. Peterson of Baltimore, Maryland, for the Peterson Student Center in Santa Fe; an endowed landscape fund at Annapolis from Mrs. Carleton Mitchell; and an endowed tutorship at Annapolis established by bequest of the late Mr. Richard Hammond Elliott of Annapolis. In addition the Annapolis campus recently received an unrestricted gift of $1,000 from the Thomas and Elizabeth Sheridan Foundation, Inc., of Cockeysville, Maryland; an unrestricted gift of $1,000 from the Sears-Roebuck Foundation of Chicago, Illinois; and a gift of $10,000 from the H. A. B. Dunning Foundation of Baltimore, Maryland, to establish the H. A. B. Dunning Memorial Fund. SANTA FE CAMPUS OFFERS Two ADULT SEMINARS St. John's offered two adult seminars for Santa Fe residents this fall. "The Individual and the State" is the subject of the group meeting Tuesday evenings from 8 to 10 p.m. with Tutor Samuel E. Brown. Dean William A. Darkey is leading the seminar which meets Wednesday afternoons at 2 p.m. The general topic of this study is "Some Ways of Telling a Story." �ALUMNI ACTIVITIES pointmcnt, with far fewer attending than anticipated. The meal was a fine one and for the first time in many years, was served as a sit-down meal. The informal parties on Friday night and on Saturday after the Dinner were again successful, and offer the only real chance for alumni to sit and talk leisurely. All alumni were most appreciative of the opportunity to use both the Chase-Stone Common Room and the Coffeeshop area of McDowell for these gatherings. While the Convocation in the middle of Saturday afternoon compli~ cated some of the Homecoming scheduling, the event itself was an attraction for alumni and their wives and husbands. And the delegates in their academic regalia added a bright and festive 'note to the day. 1 Alumni greetings are read by Association Presi, .i· dent William R. Tilles '59. .; HOMECOMING 1971 There have been larger crowds at Homecomings, but seldom has a group seemed to have a more enjoyable time. That was really not smprising, for how often can you celebrate your 275th birthday? And then, too, the weather was most cooperative. Some alumni arrived early enough in the week to attend some of the Anniversary activities which took place Tuesday through Friday. Others came Saturday morning for the Alumni Seminars or the Graduate School discussion with students. By lunch time a fair crowd had checked in, and the Convocation at 3 p.m. was well attended. A sufficient group was present for the Annual Meeting at 4 p.m., and of course by the time of the Alumni Reception at 5:30 p.m., the maximum number of alumni were present. The Alumni Dinner was a disap- CLASS REUNIONS As part of the 275th Anniversary Convocation on October 16th, the members of the 60th, 50th, and 30th anniversary classes were invited to participate in the academic procession. Present from the Class of 1911 were Clarence L. Dickinson, Wilbur L. Koontz, and John L. Morris, and each of these trim and hcartly gentlemen marched from Francis Scott Key Memorial Hall to the Library. The Golden Anniversary Class of 1921, after a Friday night gathering in Baltimore, mustered Franklin C. Hall, Earl R. Keller, Elwood E. Schafer, and Thomas B. Turner; William P. Maddox was also present, representing Pratt Institute. Before the day was ovcr these members were joined by JosephS. DiGiorgio, William H. Y. Knighton, and Luther S. Tall. The Class of 1941, the first to include what were then known as "new 7 o ~ gj g g ' Mrs. Faye Pohllo '56 registers for Homecoming. program" graduates, was represented by Victor G. Bloede III, James H. Clark, Henry D. Cubbage, George L. McDowell, and Henry M. Robert III. There were others celebrating at Homecoming, of course, among them the following members of the Class of 1931: L. Jefferson Fields, Edward A. Kimpel, Jr., William J. Klug, Jr., and Rudolph Schmick. The 25-year class, 1946, could gather only two, George H. Daffer and Henry T. Wensel, Jr., while 1951 was represented by D. Michael Brown, Larry Childress, John D. Oosterhout, Robert L. Parslow, and George Wend. Armin Ben diner, N ana (May) Dealy, Leonard C. Gore, Mary (Ryce) Ham, Michael W. Ham, and Saral1 E. Robinson were the 1961-ers back after their first decade as alumni. Showing promising alumni spirit at their first Homecoming were William H. Buell, Holly Ann Carroll, and James A. Cockey of the Class of 1971. 17 �The College HOMECOMING ACTIVITIES Annual Meeting of the Alumni Association. Bookstore conversation: from left, Henry Wensel '46; Ernest Hein· muller and William Ruhl, '42's. f:: ~ 0 " " z ~ " " 0 z " ' ~ ~ 1921: Elwood Schafer and William Maddox. " ~ From left: Carey Jarman '17, J. Wesley Everett '22, Ogle Warfield '19, John Noble '17. 275th Anniversary Convocation procession. " k ~ ~ F ~ ;;; g ~ ~· " '"" ~ ~ M 0 0 f-<: ~ 18 ~ �December 1971 High command discussion: President Tilles and Vice President Bernard Gessner '27_ Alumni in Convocation procession: from left, Earl Keller and Thomas Turner, both '21; Wilbur Koontz and John I\1Iorris, 'll's; past president Jack Carr '50; Clarence Dickinson -'11; and past presidents Ogle Warfield '19 and \Varren Bombardt '42. Left to right: John Alexander '20, C. Edwin Cockey '22, Mrs. Cockey, Ogle \Varfield '19. John Ponndstone '62 (left), Temple Porter '62 and daughter, and Robert Thomas '63. Alumni Board representatives John Oosterhout '51, Myron Vi/o1barsht and John Williams, '50's. 19 �The College Edward J. Dwyer Paul Mellon William B. Athey AWARD OF MERIT One of the highlights of Homecoming 1971 was the Alumni Award of Merit presentation. For the second year, the Alumni Association selected three recipients: William B. Athey '32, Edward J. Dwyer '30, and Paul Mellon '44. The presentation took place during the Homecoming Dinner on October 16th; Mr. Athey was the only recipient able to be present for the ceremony. The three citations read as follows: Mr. Athey: "'!11c College's eminence reflects his contributions both as a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors, and as esteemed adviser of our Association." Mr. Dwyer: "His professional achievements, and his distinguished service to the College as a member of its Board of Visitors and Governors, honor him and this Association." Mr. Mellon: "His country and the College are enriched because of his deep concern for their cultural and educational excellence." ALUMNI GIVING Although a complete report of last year's Alumni Annual Giving was mailed in October, it seems appropriate to ca1l attention to certain aspects of the Campaign record. It was a record: $30,483 in unre- 20 stricted gifts from 30.5% of our alumni. That exceeded the assigned goal for the third consecutive year, and the response was more than twice the national average. Again, we offer our most sincere congratulations to Chairman Jack L. Carr and the volunteers who raised the money, and to the 883 alumni who gave it. And so, flushed with our success, we arc about to enter another campaign year. This time, however, there has been a new aspect added. As President Weigle announced at Homecoming, and as Provost Paul Newland mentioned in his letter to Annapolis alumni last August, we are now in the 275th Anniversary Campaign. The Alumni Annual Giving Campaigns for the coming three years, and indeed for the past year, arc part of that Campaign. "-'hat docs this mean to the average alumnus? Genera11y, it will mean raising his level of giving to the Alumni Annual Giving Campaign. In certain cases it will mean making a substantial additional contribution. Rcmem bcr, when you arc asked to make a gift to Alumni Annual Giving, you are also being asked to help the 275th Anniversary Campaign. Respond as generously as yon are able. And, if yon wish to make an additional gift toward any other of the goals listed in the Campaign brochure, we will be most gra tcful. ANNUAL MEETING Four members were elected to twoyear terms on the Alumni Association Board of Directors during the Annual Meeting at !Iomecoming. J eromc Gilden '54, Mrs. L. Faye Polillo '56, and vl'illiam W. Simmons '48 were re-elected after serving one-year terms. Miss Charlotte King '59 was elected for her first term. In addition, Tutor Bryce D. Jacobsen '42 was appointed to the Board for one year. The "~off-year" election was established to provide continuity on the Board: eight directors are elected every other year, and four on the alternate years. In other Association business, President William R. Tilles reported that during the past year, the principal activities of the Association had been Student Recruitment, the Counselling Program for students, and fund raising. The latter was carried out largely on an individual member basis. \Vith the revival of the Alumni Lecture Series, Mr. Tilles believes the Association has a worthwhile set of programs to help the College. Mr. Tilles paid special tribute to Temple G. Porter '62 for developing a recruitment kit to aid alumni and others in interviewing prospective students, and to Mrs. Nancy Solibakkc '58 for organizing a comprehensive program of student counselling. �December 1971 CLASS NOTES 1928 J. Edmund Bull, until his retirement i? 1968 a hank vice president in New York, IS now executive director of the Steppingstone Museum Association in northern Harford County, Maryland. The Museum, devoted entirely to Americana, was established in July, 1970. Open only during the snmmcr months, the Museum contains articles as diverse as beer pails called "growlers" and a 'Nor1d War I stocking knitting machine, 1932 Hugh Parker and his wife, after maintaining two homes for many years, have closed out their abode in Bronxville, New York, and are permanently in Bermuda. He says their home, "21 Perches," is on Harrington Sound Road between "Devil's Hole" and "Angel's Grotto," a position "my classmates will not find unusual." The Parkers urge any St. Johnnies visiting Bermuda to look them up in the 'phone book. Henry S. Shryrock, Jr., who retired in 1967 after 31 years as a statistician with the Bureau of the Census ( 2 3 of those as assistant chief of the Population Division), spent the summer in Santiago, Chile. Mr. Shryock was a consultant 01ncl lecturer with the Centralamericano de Demografia, a United Nations regional training and research center. His third book, Methods and Materials of Demography, is being published this falL He is also a part-time professorial lecturer with the Center for Population Research, Georgetown University, 1935 E. Roy Shawn, formerly a management consultant and corporate manager for several major companies in the aerospace industry, has become Bnilding Operations and Business Administrator of Woods Memorial Presbyterian Church, Severna Park, Maryland. napolis and subsequently dean in Santa Fe, is dean of the Faculty at Marlboro College in Vermont. 1953 The Friday lecture in Annapolis on December 3rd was delivered by Robert G. Hazo. Entitled "Political Decentralization," the lee· ture ·was sponsored by the Alumni Association as part of its Alumni Lecture Series. 1955 Paul A. Lowdenslager is a Ph.D, degree date at the University of Dallas. candi~ 1958 Caroline (Baker) Brown, who holds an M.S.VV. degree from Howard University and who until recently was a casework supervisor for the Family Service Association of Nassau County, New York, has just accepted a new position with the Suffolk County Youth Board. The Repertory Theater of New Orleans in September named as its third director Jacques F. Cartier, founder of the Hartford (Conn.) Stage Company and until 1968 its artistic director. Until he and his wife Diana (Barry) '56 move to New Orleans after January 1st, Mr. Cartier has been dividing his time between teaching and directing at C. W, Post College, and hiring actors and technical workers for the Repertory. A card from the former Mary (Bittner) O'Connor advises that she has remarried and is now Mary (Bittner) \Viseman. 1959 October brought a ne,v:Ailled letter from Hugh M, Curtler, Jr., now on leave of absence from Southeast Minnesota State College, where he is chairman of the philosophy department. Mr. Curtler has been granted a Younger Humanist Fellowship by the National Endow· mcnt for the Humanities. He is studying intensively in the areas of political philosophy and jurisprudence, and spent time earlier in the fa11 in Oxford and Turin, Italy. 1936 1961 The Maryland Division of Tourism, headed by Gilbert A. Cranda11, this year shared a national m.vard for the "George Washington Heritage Trail" project. The Discover America Travel Award wds presented to Maryland, and to Pennsylvania, Virginia, \Nest Virginia, and the District of Columbia, for a project uniting the areas where George Washington traveled, fought, or lived. Don (McQuaid) Reynolds is now living in St. Andrew's, Scotland, where she is reading for her doctorate. 1938 Jack D. Englar, former chief economist with the Chamber of Commerce of Metropolitan Baltimore and vice president of plant operations for I'v'fcCormick & Co., Inc., has been named president of Tate Indunstrics. He joined Tate last March as vice president and general man· agcr of it:; technologies division. 1946 Clarence f. Kramer, fanner tutor in An- 1963 H:my R. and Donna (Paramalee) Bryant, after living in a number of places over the past few years, arc now settled in Glen Dale, Maryland. Mr. Bryant works as a systems analyst at the Naval Research Laboratory in Washington, D. C. 1967 Clark Lobenstine is cnroUed in a joint program in which he spends two years each at Louisville (Ky.) Presbyterian Seminary and at the University of Louisville School of Social 'Nark. At the end of the four-year period he will receive a master of divinity degree and a master of science in social work. In a recent letter he stated that the study of Hebrew is harder than Greek at St. John's. 1968 The engagement of Mary Chilton Howard and the Rev. James G. Callaway, Jr., of Kansas City, IVfissouri, was announced in September. Miss Howard has earned an M.A. degree from Columb_ia University, and is a doctoral candidate in biblical studies under a joint program of Columbia and Union Theological Seminary. A May wedding is planned. Harriet (Earnest) Keyser writes that she has been attending the University of Miami as a continuing education student, but hopes soon to attain regular status. Her husband Paul '67 has earned his B.S. degree in biology at Miami, and is now enrolled as a graduate student in microbiology. A brief note from David and Rosemary (Petke) Roberts announces the birth of Miss Laura Joan Roberts on September 15th, and tells us that the new parents last April moved to an SO-acre farm which they bought near Houlton, Maine. They have been living in a barn on the property while he builds their house; Mrs. Roberts adds that they were seeking warmer quarters for the winter. 1970 Jeffrey D. Friedman again writes from Israel, where he is studying philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Christopher B. Nelson (SF), a second-year law student, is active in the Associated Students of the University of Utah in appealing the tuition increases at the University. The ASUU has appealed to the Head General Counsel of the U.S. Office of Emergency Preparedness, and has retained as legal counsel a recent graduate. Mr. Nelson will coordinate the research by law students in support of the counsel. Patricia Jean \Vl1ite and Friederich von Sclnverdtncr of Annapolis were married on August 16th. 11Ie bridegroom is the son of Ernst von Schwerdtner of the Class of 1917. 1971 Douglas H. Bennett writes that New York City is becoming his home. He is employed at the American Dance Center and the Spence School as dance accompanist, and hopes to continue with his composing. Barbara (Sherman) Simpson reports to our managing editor that she is taking courses in veterinary medicine at the University of Mary- lane!. In Memoriam Pl~l-ANTUONY J. SciBELLI, Montrose, N. Y., §eptembcr 3, 1968. l!]J2~FERDINAND P. THOMAS, Towson, Md., September 15, 1971. 19/ll-STUART R. N. M.: July 25, 1971. DEAN, Santa Fe, 21 �Dr. Martin Meyerson, President of the University of Pennsylvania, gives his address during the 275th Anniversary Convocation in Annapolis at vVoodward Hall near the Liberty Tree on the front campus. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 21 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, December 1971 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1971-12 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Wyatt, Malcolm Felter, Mary P. Parran,Jr., Thomas Trimmer, Maurice Description An account of the resource Volume XXIII, Number 4 of The College. Published in December 1971. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_23_No_4_1971 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/4a2f23f608183529b7a670240534e211.pdf 40bcdf9df9bbb2c4217e71d16580afa4 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico April 1972 �The College Front Cover: Portrait of Philip II (ca. 1575) by Alonso Sanchez Coello (1531/32-1590), Prado, Madrid. Inside Front Cover: l\kDowell Hall, Annapolis; sketch by Daniel Sullivan, Class of 1971. Back Cover: Harrison Health Center, Annapolis; drawing by Dundin, photograph by Richard D. Bond, Jr. The College is a publication for friends of St. John's College and for those who might become friends of the College, if they came to know it. Our aim is to indicate, within the limitations of the magazine form, why, in our opinion, St. John's comes closer than any other college in the nation to being what a college should be. If ever well-placed beacon lights were needed by American education it is now. By publishing articles about the work of the College, articles reflecting the distinctive life of the mind that is the College, we hope to add a watt or two to the beacon light that is St. John's. Editor: Malcolm \:Vyatt Managing Editor: Mary P. Felter Alumni Editor: Thomas Farran, Jr. Editorial Assistant: Maurice Trimmer The College is published by the Development Offices of St. John's College, College Avenue, Annapolis, Maryland 21204 (Russell E. Leaven. worth, Director), and Santa Fe, New Mexico (J. Burchenal Ault, Vice President); Member, American Alumni Council. President, St. John's College, Richard D. Weigle. Published four times a year in April, July, October, and December. Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. Vol. XXIV April 1972 No.1 In the April Issue: The Ontological Argument, by Robert A. Neidort . The Spanish Civil War, by Douglas Allan brook. . 8 News on the Campuses 23 Alumni Activities 28 �The Ontological Argument* • by Robert A. Neidorf For quite a little while, philosophers have been fascinated by the thesis that some things can be known to be true of· the world by reasoning alone, without reliance on empirical data. The motives are not hard to understand. Empirical data come and go, and do not seem to he appropriate foundations for grand universal truths about the whole of reality; if, then, there are leading principles that underlie an ordered universe, and these are accessible to men, it seems that they should be accessible through the exercise of a power itself not dependent upon the contingencies of c·oncrete sensory experience. Again, if there are principles or forces in the universe that do not flow from concrete events limited in space and time, but underlie and shape such events, then the human faculty which grasps such principles should be commensurate with what it grasps, and similarly independent of the limitations and contingencies that surround concrete experience via the senses. Reason suggests itself as such a faculty. Another motive can be drawn from ordinarv cognitive experience. There are truths to which we are all committed that seem independent of experience. Certain propositions of arithmetic constitute ancient and honorable examples. 7+5=12 seems to be true for all time, and true independentlv of the evidence of the senses. If this is so, the lure -is dropped, and one wonders what else can be established in the same wav. -The sense in which a pr~position like 7+5=12 is said to be independent of experience must be qualified. No one (at least no one that I am currently prepared to take seriously) believes that a man born without sensory equipment would come to know simple arithmetic truths. It is not in this way that 7+5=12 is claimed to be a priori; that is, no one claims that it is discoverable in the absence of all sensation. \Vhat is claimed is that the proposition oncL· discovered is then held without reference to experienc~_' <lS justification. Imagine 7 eggs placed in a basket, then 5 more; then the basket is dumped out (the eggs are lurdboiled) and the contents are counted. Such an expe-riment might be used to illustrate the proposition '*Delivered as a lecture on February 11, 1972, at St. John's College in Santa Fe. 7+5=12. But if ll or 13 eggs were found in the basket, no one, or at most very few people, would entertain the notion that 7+5=12 had now been shown to be false; I believe we would all prefer recourse to any other theory, even if necessary the theory implicit in having recourse to a psychiatrist. Thus the experiment, while it illustrates the proposition, and may aid a learner in grasping it for the first time, is no part of the evidence for the proposition-is not part of its justification. Thus what is meant by saying that a proposition P is known a priori-known independently of experience-is that reference to experi- ' ence does not constitute the justification for P. \:Vhether or not 7+5=12 is truly known in this way is not part of my present concern. But 7+5=12 is very unlike "All swans are white." The latter is easily overturned by experience, showing that its justification rests directly on experience. The former is not so easily overturned by experience, and perhaps cannot be overturned by experience at all; it is therefore very indirectly justified by experience, and perhaps not justified by experience at all. It is plausible on the face of it to regard 7+5=12 as something known independently of experience in just ·that sense. In the eleventh century A.D. St. Anselm of Canterbury endeavored to show that "God exists" is a proposition that can be known independently of experience. His argument, usually referred to as "the ontological argument," has been discussed, refined, refuted, revived, dis~ cussed again and so on repeatedly in the intervening centuries. In recent times it has been revived and seriously considered among English-speaking philosophers largely because of the v-.rritings of two Americans, Charles Hart~ shorne and Norman Malcolm. The former is a Christian metaphysician, the latter a so-called analytic philosopher very much influenced by \Vittgenstein. i\luch of what I have to say about the ontological argument is derived from these two sources. 1 1 Cf. Charles Hartshor:ne. ,\Jan's Vision of God (Harper & Row: New York, 1941) and Anselm's Discm·ery (Open Court: Chicago, 1965); 1\'orman l'vlalcolm, "Anselm's Ontological Arguments," The Philosophical Review, LXIX, 1960. Malcolm's article and a selection from Hartshorne's ~'ision are reprinted in }Jrin Planfinga (ed.), The Ontological Argument (Doubleday: New York 1965). 1 �The College I In truth there are two ontological arguments, appearing in Chapters II and III of Anselm's Proslogium. Let me look first at the argument of Chapter II, which I present in a paraphrase according to my understanding of it. It goes something like this: The term "God" is meaningfully used. It means a being of maximallf perfect character, i.e. an entity with such a nature that no entity could be conceived which is more perfect than it is. Suppose now that one tries to form, as a meaningful expression, the statement "God does not exist." Since the term God is meaningfully used, God certainly exists in the mind of the person forming the statement, and such a person is presumably thinking of a God that exists in his own mind and perhaps in the minds of others, but not in reality. But now it is possible to think of a second God having all of the properties of that first God, plus the property of existing in reality as well as in the mind of men. This second God is clearly more perfect than the first one, the one that was being thought of in the proposition "God does not exist." Consequently, that first God is not a maximally perfect entity at all, and the statement "God does not exist" cannot consistently be entertained. Since the term "God" does have a meaning, and since "God does not exist" is self-contradictory, it follows that God exists. I believe that this argument is ultimately unsound, but its lack of soundness is not to be established by insult. Let me review several objections that may be advanced against it. I) Concede for the moment that "God does not exist" is meaningful but self-contradictory, and that its denial, "God does exist" is therefore conceptually necessary. That is, assuming "God" is a meaningful term, "God exists" is a necessary claim or thought for human beings. Still, it may be objected, a necessity of thought does not entail a corresponding necessity in the things thought about. Hence, although we may be forced to think that God exists, he may nevertheless not exist. I believe that this objection is based on a confusion. It amounts to saying that a state of affairs which I must think to be true I can also think not to be true, which is self-contradictory. The objection can be sustained only by denying all contact between thought and reality. Such a denial, which amounts to radical scepticism, is certainly possible; but it cannot be defended, because any defense would involve claims about thoughts, claims that the defender would be advancing as thoughts of his own to which a reality (other thoughts) corresponds. Because I 2 ; have a taste for defensible positions, I set aside this objection. 2) It is a dogma of modern philosophy that no a priori reasoning can issue in conclusions about matters of factabout matters of real existence. For example, reasoning independent of experience can show that if there are 7 of something and 5 of the same things, then the two heaps taken together constitute 12 of those things; but a priori reasoning can never show that there are any of those things; for that, experience is required. Again, perhaps Euclid has shown that if there is a triangle then the sum of its angles is equal to two right angles; but he has not and cannot show by a purely logical process that there is a triangle. Since Anselm's argument purports to show that something exists by a priori reasoning, it cannot be valid. This objection rests on the general rule that no a priori considerations can yield existential conclusions. To treat it properly we should have to examine the grounds for the general rule. I will turn to that task later. For the moment, I will try to hold off the objection by two considerations. In the first place, there are indeed pieces of a priori reasoning that yield conclusions of a sort about matters of fact. For exampk, logical considerations show that the concept "round square" is self-contradictory; we usually do not hesitate to infer that no round squares ·exist. If a priori considerations can yield negative existential conclusions, it is hard to see why in principle they cannot yield positive ones. In the second place, if Anselm's argument or any other argument that yields existential conclusions from non-empirical premises is sound on its own merits, it is questionable procedure to reject it on the basis of a general rule; it is more in accord with customary principles of open-mindedness to ask whether the argument shows that the general rule is not so general after all. I conclude that we cannot escape examination of the argument on its own merits. 3) On its own merits, I believe that the argument of Proslogium II is not so good. Anselm has asked us to compare two conditions of God, God without the quality of real existence (existing only in the mind) and God with the quality of real existence (existing outside the mind). He then asks us to agree that the second condition is better or more perfect than the first. But what is the relation between the quality of real existence and the subject-God-to which it is attached? Presumably all qualities attach to their subjects either essentially or accidentally. An essential quality is one that the subject must have in order to be what it is; e.g., a bachelor is essentially single. An accidental quality could be detached from its subject without changing the essential nature of that subject; e.g., a bachelor is accidentally white. Now for Anselm real existence cannot be attached to God accidentally; for to admit that would be to admit that God can be thought of without the quality of real existence, and this is just what Anselm wants to deny in �April 1972 the very heart of his argument. Hence real existence must, for Anselm, be regarded as an essential quality of God. But in that case, when he asks us to compare God without real existence against God with real existence, he is not asking us to compare two conditions of the same thing, but two quite different things. The meaning of the term "God" has shifted in the course of his argument, and the logic of it is no longer clear. Someone could argue that a man with the quality white is better or more perfect than the same•man without the quality white. I would not agree with him, but I would understand what he is saying because the meaning of "man" is kept unchanged when '\vhite" is put on or taken off. But if he argues that a single bachelor is better than one who is not single, I get confused. I cannot hold before my mind any notion or image of a married bachelor in order to compare it with the single kind. The argument has slipped away. 4) If Anselm's argument has slipped out of focus, it may yet be brought back by some ingenious interpretation. I now bring to it a fourth objection which, like the third, was suggested by Kant." I think it puts Prosiogium II beyond the possibility of salvation. Anselm's argument turns on the notion that existence is a quality that can be attached to or detached from subjects much like other qualities, whether essential or accidental. But existence is not, I think, a quality at all. To see why, consider an example. Suppose the Dean were asked to draw up a list of qualiti-es that the ideal Tutor should have. He might list such things as learnedness, articulateness, ability to work long hours, and so forth. But if he added to the list the statement that the ideal Tutor should also exist, we would regard him with suspicion. At the very least, it is hard to see what information he has added to the original list by adding "existence" as if it were a property alongside of other properties. It is certainly true that from a grammatical point of view "existenCe" can function in sentences in a manner analogous to ordinary predicate-words. V/e may say "Teddy is still existing" just as we may say "Teddy is still running" or "Teddy is still white." This formal arialogy may lead us to think that the meani.rig of "Teddy is still existing" is analogous to the meaning of the other sentences. But if we try forming the denials of the sentences the analogy quite breaks down. If someone tells me "Teddy is not any longer white" I have an rmage of the same Teddy with whiteness gone and some qualrty contrary to whiteness having taken its place. I can C\'Cn form a new affirmative sentence that describes the new situation: "Teddy now has the quality of non\\hJteness." If now I am told that "Teddy is no longer cx_isting" I have no similar image; Teddy h3s simply been wrped out. If, indeed, I try to force the analogy by formmg a new affirmative sentence I get something like this: 2 Critique of Pure Reason, A.592·602, B620-630. "Teddy now has the quality of non-existence," which is surely absurd. 3 I am not prepared to give an analysis of the statement "Teddy exists." But I am persuaded that it is not like "Teddy runs/' because "exists" is not a predicate. Insofar as the argument of Proslogium II treats "exists" as if it were a predicate, I think the argument must be rejected. II If Anselm's argument is not sound so far, it has at least suggested an enticing way of describing God. \~le have been asked to agree that God is the sort of being in which existence is bound up with its very nature. \Vhatever the failings in Anselm's handling of the logic of the term </existence," be has not, in so describing God, made any very outrageous suggestion. God is after all thought of as an entity that cannot snap in or out of existence as other entities may. This is just a way of saying that God's existence is necessary, not contingent Or, to put it another way, .existence is connected to God essentia11v, not contingently or accidentally. · For the moment, let us assume that the notion of a being whose existence is necessary-a being immortal in its very nature-is a possible notion. When we think about something under the mode of necessity, we usually associate with it a proposition said to be itself necessary. Bachelors are necessarily single. The proposition "Bachelors are single" is then said to be true necessarily. It is a common and plausible view to interpret this conditionthat "Bachelors are single" is true necessarily-as meaning that the denial is inconceivable, i.e. "Some bachelor is married" is inconceivable. Apply this view to the notion that God exists necessarily. The corresponding proposition, "God exists," is then necessarily true. If, then, we can form the notion of a being that exists necessarily, the proposition expressing its existence is necessarily true. To recapitulate from another direction: The condition expressed by the proposition "God does not exist" is inconceivable, because </God" means that which exists necessarily from its own nature. The opposite proposition-"God exists"-is therefore true necessarily. Hence God exists. This, I believe, is the nerve of a fresh argument that Anselm offers in Proslogium III. I believe it is a strong argument, although perhaps it does not show quite what Anselm thought it did. Let me review the new argument a third time. Any fact or state of affairs described in meaningful propositions falls presumably into one of three categories, and only one. Either it is necessary, or possible, or impossible; either it must be S0 or it mav be so, or it cannot be so. Most of what we are interest~d in falls into the middle 1 3 Cf. G. E. :tv1oore, "Is Existence a Predicate?" Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society; XV, 1936; reprinted in Plantinga. 3 �The College category. \\Thether the man in the bed is to live or die, whether there will be a sea-fight tomorrow in the Bay of Bengal, whether unicorns exist-these are all contingencies, things that may be but may also not bei and whether they will or will not can be found out only with the help of experience. It is characteristic of such things that their being so and their not being so are equally conceivable. I can conceive of the man living or dying, of the sea-fight taking place or not, etc. Anselm is arguing in ProsJogium III that the existence of God does not belong in this middle category. If it did, it should be possible for me to think of God as not existing in the same way that I can think of unicorns as not existing. But. I cannot so think of God, claims Anselm, because "existing" is a necessary part of the meaning of the term "God." Hence, if the concept of God as a necessary being is formed at all, then there is such a being. l) The first objection is very old. The claim is that by defining God as that which exists necessarily, Anselm has already presupposed God's existence; i.e. he has presupposed that which he sought to prove. But this objection simply ignores the nerve of the argument. Anselm claims that we have a concept of God as a necessarily existing being, and that unlike other. concepts this one commits he who entertains it to the conclusion that there is such a being. One can surely raise questions as to whether any concept can function in that way, and questions as to whether Anselm's concept of God is a concept at all. I will soon raise such questions. But to accuse Anselm of arguing in a circle because he sets forth a supposed concept which entails the existence of something, is merely to presuppose the answers to other questions in the theory of meaning; it does not meet his argument where it deserves to be met-on its own ground. 2) The second objection is that Anselm is again asking us to think of "existence" as a property or quality of an object, and we have seen that it is no such thing. But the advantage of his new argument in Pros]ogium III is that it does not rest on the notion of existence as a quality, but on the notion of necessary existence as a quality. \Vhether or not existence taken simply is a quality, I think necessary existence just may be a quality. If the Dean added to his list of qualities for an ideal Tutor that he should exist necessarily, we would regard him as unusually optimistic, but we would understand what he means and sympathize with it. \Vho wants a Tutor who is subject to fatigue and death? Clearly we would like to have Tutors who are indefatigable and immortal, and this not by chance, but by nature. 3) This example leads to a deeper objection. If we understand what the Dean is saying when he expresses the desire for a Tutor \Vho exists necessarih·, there must be such a concept. Consequently, on the riwdel of Anselm's own argument, the concept of such a Tutor as not existing is self-contradictory or absurd. Therefore, there is such a Tutor. Only ";here is he? 'T'his objection was 4 first raised under different terms by a contemporary of Anselm. Anselm himself was rather contemptuous of it. He argued that the concept of a necessarily existing thing of any sort except God himself, is absurd. Tutors, islands, unicorns, are a11 limited entities; by their very nature they are subject to decay and destruction. I think he is right about this. Any object thought of as extended in space is also conceivably divisible. If the idea of reducing a unicorn, an island, or a Tutor to scattered particles is a conceivable one, then nothing of this sort can exist necessarily. So the argument is saved-almost. If there is truly no concept of a Tutor existing necessarily, how did we understand the Dean when he asked for one? I suggest that when he asked for one he was not asking us to form the concept of such a one, but was only expressing his regret that no Tutor does or can exist necessarily. I am maintaining that while "necessary existence" mai' be a quality, it is not a quality- that can be added to objects arbitrarily; yet its absence can perfectly well be noticed and communicated. Let me try to sum up the situation by comparing three pairs of sentences. "There is a man who is white." "There is a man \vho is not \Vhite." I understand both sentences clearly, and the same man could at difFerent times be the subject of each. "There is a man who exists." "There is a man who does not exist." I understand the first sentence but not the second, because simple existence is not a quality at all. "There is something that exists necessarily." "There is something that does not exist necessarily." I understand both sentences, but the same entity can never be the subject of each. For the subtraction of the quality "exists necessarily" changes the nature of the subject just as surely as the subtraction of "single" changes the nature of a bachelor. Finally, then, I claim that there is no concept "Tutor existing necessarily," but there is a concept "Tutor not existing necessarily." Formal logicians will not like this view, but I believe it is consistent \\·ith ordinary usage and common sense, and therefore takes precedence. 4) \\'hile I am not about to dismiss the notion of necess;ny existence because of the strictures of certain formal fogica1 systems, there is a view which denies on reasoned grounds th8t "necessity" can be a characteristic of anything real. Briefly stated, the theory claims that necessity is. a quality of propositions o( sentences but not of existent objects or real relations. For example, "All �April 1972 bachelors arc single" is a necessar~' proposition. That it is is J consequence of the wa~· '"e use words or concepts; it reflects a decision to use the word "bachelor" to refer to the combination of two other concepts, "male" and "single." It te11s us nothing whate,·er about existent entities. 0IY the other hand, under this thtor\', anY proposition having existential significance, anY statemen-t about what is going on i.n the world, is contingent. \Vhatever h3ppens could concei,·ably not happen; ,,-hateYer comes to be could concei,·ably not conic to be (for there was a time when it was not); in brief, whateYer is is contingent and an~- proposition expressing what is is itself a contingent truth that cannot be established a priori. This theon· ma\ be called positivism. Although it goes back to 1-Iumc, it is both important and exciting. It is imporhmt because it is very widespread. It is seen in the curn:nt doctrine that eYcn· scientific account of the world is pro,·isional and uncert~1in-i.e. not necessan·-because reason can always conceive alternatives to wllat science describes; while; on the other hand, the certainties of logic;:!l deduction bring forth only rearrangements of symbols or concepts but no new knowledge of what is. And it is exciting because it opens the door to a disproof of the existence of God. For if one acknowledges with Anselm that the only concept of God worthY of the name is the concept of .a being that exists necessarilY, and if necessitv cannot be a character of any being, theTI .there can be nO God." 'There is, howe·er, something paradoxical about positiYism. Let me denote the class of true propositions about matters of fact b,· the letter E. Consider the claim that all E-proposition.s are contingent, or probable, or not necessar~·- Is this claim true of such propositions necessarily or contingently? If it is true contingcntly~if it is, say, an empirical generalization~thcn the possibility exists that there ma:· :-et be found an E~proposition which is not contingent, and Anselm's argument mm· be exhibiting just that proposition. On the other hand, sup· pose the claim about E-propositions is true necessarily. Then E-propositions are thcmseh·es a kind of thing in tl~e world, nlthough a Yer:· complex kind, and there is ~omcthing in the \Yorld about which a necessar\' truth can be known. T'his difficulty is apparent in Hume's O\Yll exposition. In the early pages of the Enquir~· Concerning Human Understanding he argues on the basis of general experience that there are no ideas in the mind which ha\T not been furnished by antecedent sensor~· imprc:·ssions. This amounts to S<lying that all our notions r~bout matters of LKt ;nc dcriYcd from .~ensory experience ~mel share the qu;ilihcs of th;1t experience not;Jb]y the qu<l1it~· of continscnc :·. So far, the cloctrinc is :lch·ancccl <-1S <1 probable nr contingent cbim .. -\ftcr noting a tin:· exception, Hume necess::1r~· ·J .J. ~. _Finclby, ··can GCJcl.) E:-:i_c-.tence be Dispron:d? .. . \find, 19-fS; •cp•m!cd m Pbnting:L · later elevates the doctrine to the status of a necessary truth, and uses it as a principle to destroy the objectivity of the concept of causality (necessary connection among cvmts in the world). He discovers that there is no sensory impression of necessary causal connection among eventS, and concludes that there can be no idea thereof because there cannot be an idea that has no senson' antecedent. J-Ie starts bv claiming that there is no such iclea, and ends bv claiming that there cannot be. It begins to look as if the claims of the positivist position do not themselves fit easih· into the account about all propositions that posi· tivists give. Against this criticism the positivist has a likelv reply. J-Ie may say that he is only speaking about concrete things in space and time, and claiming that those arc through and through contingent, both in their existence and in their relations to each other. Anv attempt to turn his doctrine onto itself by considering propositions or con· ccpts as entities in their own right he will resist, on the ground that propositions and concepts do not have any clearly discernible concrete existence in space and time; what they are may be a problem, but they are probably not things or beings at all. Consequenth', he may say, necessary truths about propositions or concepts do not in the least tend to show that there can be necessarv truths about matters of fact. But we must note that Anselm's concept of God is not the concept of a being located in space and time, for then it could not exist necessarilv. For Anselm and indeed for most theologians from PlatO onward, \vhatever functions as a fundamental ordering principle governing what is, and what is worthy, is not itself located in the world in the same \vay that other things are. 'll1e issue between Anselm and the positivist then becmnes a controversy O\'er what counts as a thing or being. The positivist would likely refuse to acknowledge propositions or a "necessary being" as beings; the more platonically-minded would insist upon it. \Vhat I am suggesting is that the positivist attack on Anselm's argument is based ultimately OP a theory of being and not on a theory of meanin.g. . . ne <:~ttack amounts to saying that there can be no such thing as God in Anselm's sense, and Anselm's argument is not really examined on its own merits. Are there "things" that are not located in space and time? It is easy to see the case for a negatiYc answer: things existing in space and time seem more accessible to us and rclatiye]y Jess puzzling than the notion of a being which is abm·e or be1m:v or alongside of space ;mel time. But we cannot settle this question by coolly dismissing the candid::1tes for such stature Cls "mere abstractions," for that just hide~ the issue under a term that is itself puzzling. There are, on the other hancl, plau5-.ib1e grounds for an offirmatiyc answer. A melody inhnbits a sequence of notes, and Jt first glance one is tempted to s2r that the melody is sharp]}· located in time. But this viCw \~'ill not stand 5 �The College up easily under pressure. How many notes can be taken away without changing the melody? At what moment in the playing of the notes does the melody come to be? \Ve speak of playing the "same" melody over again at a different time, and we think we can play it any time we choose:-at any time we choose. How, then, can the melody be rega~ded as located in a certain region of time? All o{ this suggests that a melody, whatever it is, is not quite as concrete an entity as a sjngle note played at a certain moment One might claim that the melody is a mere arrangement of notes, and that it recurs ,vhenever the same arrangement recurs. But this will not quite suffice, for there is a peculiar relation between the melody and the particular notes that it inhabits. Namely, from a certain point of vie\V the melody governs the notes; it gives them a noticeable significance that they would not have in isolation; it provides a context that alters and shapes the significance of individual notes; and in some cases one produces notes in search of a melody that is vaguely grasped, but beckoning. Even if all this be granted, why should one say that the melody is something? Because, I think, it governs or beckons; it would be odd to regard that which governs or beckons as an abstraction or dependent thing taking its existence in some peculiar way from that which it governs or beckons; it would be still more odd to say that it is nothing at alL It will be objected that this example is drawn from a highly artificial or psychological realm, I think this objection counts for nothing, because things artificial or psychological are not on that account nothing. More importantly, it will be objected that however difficult it may be to pin down a melody to a certain time, melodies nevertheless do exist in time in generaL Perhaps so. But the peculiar claims that I have been making about melodies-that they govern the particulars associated with them-can also be made about the logical forms that govern mathematical demonstrations and the so-called laws of nature that govern the universe of particulars. I would not know quite what it means to say that these things exist in time or space "in general," and I find it no more awkward to regard them as existing. "outside" time and space, governing that which exists "in" time and space. · I do not pretend for a moment to have "proved" that such things exist, or to have laid to rest the many re· spectable theories that try to reduce laws of thought and laws of nature to the realm of concrete individuals. However, Hume \Vas fond of saying, " Tis a princip1e generally received in philosophy that everything in nature is individual." 5 And Hume himself never criticises or defends that opinion; he just receives it. I think I have shown 1 that however widely received, it is certainly contestable and mav be wrong. Let ~e nO\V revie\v the state of the argument so far. 5 6 E.g., Treatise of Human Nature, Bk. I, Pt. I, Sec. VIII. Anselm has proposed that the conce-pt of G:d , c' concept of a bemg such that no more pcrln--. , , " ~ be concc1ved. Th1sleads to the notion that th, ~- ' of a bemg that exlSts necessarily. If, thc!l, u:;• ~~~ a concept, the notion that God does not e , , ••• """ -!1"111! bl e t o en t ert a~n, 1.e. G od cannot be conctivt:d !KJ<t ~, · · "'"· .. b.:r "- -,._ <;, Hence he ex1sts. The chief objections to th' ··•= Q"";.. ':,:,, rest on two doctrines: that necessity cannot b.; _....,·to~>- of am· existing thing; that anyth.ing wlud,- ;.,:;~~, concr_etc .particular. I have tned to show :lut H~ -~,_ doctrmc m turn rests on the second, and tbt the~ . 1s contestable. During the course of the disctmio;, 1 . " , ' .::f' been snggestmg somewhat vaguely that we 00 hM 't ' - .. concept of a necessary bemg, and tha: A.ns-<:!m"s l~o;:~~~ : may therefore be perfectly sound. I tum fi:di: : ..• • ""'~ objection, 5) The term "God" has been defim·d i:: :·,q, "·'''"'"' that \\'luch 1s more perfect than anything UJtho~~~ and as that which erists necessarily from its mt ; 1 twt~-- _ _ The first definition probably entails the Y.-cond. T~ difficulty is that both definitions are rather am:oe .., vague, so lacking in specific content as to raise tht' "":':•··''"~~' lion whether we really have such an idea after all merely playing with words. That the difficulty is a real one mav be seen from torical examples. Aristotle, in trying t~ elucidate the m..;:"c""'"'" cept of "pure actuality," or that which has no gnin contingency and therefore exists necessarih·, decido li:lli! it must be eternal, uncornplex, unchanging. utterly concerned with any particular being, and entirely · ble of being affected by them; its sole activity is • t!UM:• ing on thinking. This is not acceptable to Christian t~ ' .•,,. logians for obvious reasons. Anselm struggles \\1th tk problem by arguing that qualities like compassion are .nt>'l "literally" in God, but somehow proP.erly attributobk 11:1 him from a human and hence defective point of ''""'· · A whole medieval tradition of so-called negati,·e ~~ . ology was based on the notion that God can be urula•'; stood as that which lacks all defects, even thougb fl<> • ' positive concept of the corresponding perfections cooid be nailed down. Hartshorne argues that God is net worshipped for the defects he does not have, and sug,~ that the difficulty be removed by substituting a DC'Of theory of the meaning of necessary being. He claims trol or a being existing necessarily may be thought of as a bci~ totally open to the impact of concrete events, complclt~ susceptible to being affected by them, constantlr dun; ing, only in such a way that no possible event or clung: could threaten his existence. This opens the door. tc· thinking of a necessary being as compassionate. lo:.:c: and creative. It also makes it possible to understand ll"'·' the necessary being could act in time, creating a umn:-:>:. or a gift of incarnation, whereas the classical concept t.': Aristotle and others entailed that there was not and nen:' could be a moment of creation or of ·di\'ine acti,·it~· d: rected towards the lives of creatures. But then the notio:: �April 1972 of divine creatil,ity runs afoul of the logical dictum that one cannot give what one has not got, and we are turned back to the classical notion of a God who has and is everything that he will ever give. These controversies rest on the difficulty of trying to supply further content for the concept of necessary existence. It is a difficulty that I have already run into. Usuallv, we explore an unfamiliar concept of a quality by-so to speak-trying it on for size. \Ve imagine it attached to various kinds of objects to see if the attachments make sense) or we imagine it combined with other more familiar qualities to see if the combinations make sense. In Plato's Republic Glaucon, who is having trouble with the concept of justice as a quality, asks Socrates to show him the other qualities of a just man. But when I conceded that there is no positive concept of a necessariJ~· existing Tutor~ or of a -necessarily existing thing of any sort except God himself, I was conceding that the quality of necessary existence cannot be moved around like a checker in the game of logical exploration. Necessary existence is a very strange quality indeed. It parades itself as a quality that cannot be attached to any ordinary object, even tentatively, because the attachment would alter radically the nature of the object itself. And if Anselm is right, it cannot be considered in isolation from the notion of a unique being that has that quality and has no other qualities with which we are familiar. Yet the phrase "necessary existence" seems to be meaningful in some way, if for no other reason than the fact that the phrase "contingent existence" is clearly meaningfuL In such ways is the mind poised over the notion of necessary existence-which is no other than the notion of divine existence or absolute perfection. Is there such a notion? !•viy answer at this time is: Yes and no. The concept cannot be fingered, nailed down and held before the mind like other qualities; the logic of its use is elusive, precisely because it cannot be examined in isolation from questions of real existence. Yet in some wavs the mind requires it, and acknowledges it. !'den do noi exist necessarily; we know that, we understand it we often regret it. How could we say with such confidence that all particulars exist contingently had we no notion at all of some other mode of existence? There are other examples, more mundane. At various times, and howe,·cr illogicallv, little billiard balls were regarded by many as necessary beings, immortal, unbreakable, the fundamental ground for the regu1arit~· and order of the uni\·erse. No one has expounded the attracti1·cness of this notion better than Lucretius. Contr~uy to the very meaning of its n~nne, the atom gets broken, the necessary beings turn out to be contingent after all. This should have been no surprise because, as extended in space, they could no more exist necessarily than Tutors can. Still, the notion of that which is necessarih·, as an ultimate ground for the intelligibility and 1 existence of everything else, governs the mind and beckons to it. It has often been maintained, especially in America, that the pursuit of ultimate grounds is childish, and should be given up by grown men. Yet if I am to take such claims seriously I must be persuaded; evidence and argument must be offered. And then I suspect that he \vho offers evidence and argument is in that very act himself governed or lured by the flickering image of that which is so in an unqualified sense; not contingently so, or possibly so, but necessarily so; that in which one can rest a case without fear of its eventual destruction; in short, that which is necessarily. And if once again I am told that what is necessarily, is only a proposition or a truth and not a thing, I must still wonder how that which is a Jure or a governor can be denied existence. There is a passage in the Republic where Plato puts these words into the mouth of Socrates: Not only being known is present in the things known as a consequence of the good, but also existence and being are in them besides as a result of it, although the good isn't being but is still beyond being, exceeding it in . dignity and power• Glaucon, who has been listening, is both attracted and horrified. He says, "Apollo, what a demonic excess." Now Glaucon, as he appears in the dialogue, is not the smartest of men. But I sympathize with him. III It will surprise no one to see that I have not settled the question whether God exists, or whether Anselm's argument is finally sound. But let me close by stating some conclusions of which I have been persuaded by Anselm and his sympathetic commentators. First, the question of God's existence cannot be settled by straightforward deductive logic. That God does not exist cannot be proved by customary logical means, because the statement, "A necessarily existing being does not exist," is on close scrutiny either meaningless or selfcontradictory. Neither can God's existence be proved by ordinary logical routines. Anselm's argument is the only one I know of or can presently imagine that attempts to set forth something resembling the usual forms of logical proof and ending in the conclusion, "God exists." But the attempt to analyze his ~JTgument raises too many unresoh·cd problems in the nature of logic itself. The argument defies conventional modes of formal analvsis and testing, and when considered on its own merits' it calls into question m~my of the logical canons that are employed confidently for more routine kinds of arguments. 6 Steph<:inus 509b. 7 �The College Perhaps the genius of his argument is its abilit\· to force reflection upon the implicit commitments of logicians. Second, the question of God's existence cannot be settled by recourse to empirical experience. Perhaps this has always been known; certainly eyebrows are always raised at the notion of a direct empirical experience of ·God that could be known to be just that in the same way as, say, direct experience of a brick wall or a black swan. But I think Anselm has pointed the way to a fundamental reason for this suspicion. Anyone who endeavors to establish or test a proposition by observation or experience makes two claims implicitly. He claims that the 41 proposition, say, X is so," is conceivable to him. And he claims that the denial, "X is not so," is also conceivable. Otherwise the recourse to observation would either tell him nothing or it would onlv tell him what he already knows. Anselm has, I think, shown that the propoSition, "'That \vhich exists necessarily does not exist/' is self-contradictory or meaningless. And therefore neither it nor its opposite can be established empirically. Let me finally try to say where I am in this tangle. It was Anselm's conviction that the statement, "That which exists necesari1y does not exist," is absurd because the subject, "that which exists necessarily," is perfectly clear and cannot be combined with the notion "not-existing." I wonder whether it might be absurd because the subject, "that which exists necessarily," is itself without meaning. To put it another way: Anselm has convinced me that "God does not exist" is meaningless. But the remaining question, which I cannot answer, is whether "God exists" is meaningful. Robert A. Neidorf received his B.A. and M.A. degrees from The University of Chicago and his Ph.D. degree from Yale University. From 1962 to 1964 he was a Tutor at St. John's College in Annapolis. He was Associate Professor of Philosophy at the State Universit-y of New York at Binghamton, 1964-6i. He is the author of DEDUCTIVE FORMS: An Elementary Logic (Harper and Roll', 1967), a book intended to serYe either as an introduction to general logic or for a first course in symbolic logic. He joined the Santa Fe faculty of St. John's College in 1967, and was appointed Director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education in 1970. The Spanish Civil War* By DOUGLAS ALLANBROOK It is distressing to study wars but necessary. It is doubly distressing to look at a civil war. It would be of some comfort if one could think of them as momentary sicknesses, as abnormal growths which science, good sense, or noble passion could cut out of the body politic. I don't think it is possible to regard them as such. \Vars between nations are perhaps easier to stomach or at least sometimes seem easier to understand. Civil wars, however, bring different difficulties and lead often to blacker pessimism. Civil wars in particular force upon our attention facts which are not political, facts which cannot be understood or grappled with in terms of monarchies, republics, democracies, oligarchies, class struggles alone or economic drives. Neither political economy nor political science can deal dirccth' with these facts. Histon' can describe them from any n~mber of points of view. There are no simple "'Delivered as a lecture at St. John's College in Annapolis on May 25, 1962: 8 rational explanations of them. It is for this reason that both religion and psychology attempt to deal with them. The science of geology offers a certain analogy. Here is the surface of the earth spread before us, with its plains, mountains, deserts, and sparkling oceans. Looking at it descriptively, one plots rivers, maps mountain ranges, classifies rocks, and measures the depths of the waters. From an aeroplane one is dazzled by the prospect and grasps certain great configurations of systems of rivers, mountains, and plains. It is a great and noble panorama. Looking with still more attention at the surface of this earth, one sees and then theorizes about the rise and fall of the Rocky Mountains or the lofty Himalavas. The patient and seemingly infinite work of the rivers in can'ing out their beds, the long sculptural work of the wind and the rain, plunge one into the midst of a process of work being done. Glaciers move up and down our map which now has a fourth dimension of time. One reallr underlying fact keeps forcing itself upon our attention, �April 1972 volcanoes. Something under the surface of this earth keeps erupting. 1l1is happens sporadically in all geological time.· All rocks are, if traced back far enough, of igneous origin. This becomes a primal fact in the hard look at the earth. All volcanic eruptions are studied with intense interest. Geologists describe great volcanic periods as revolutions, borrowing a term from politics. \Vhat the middle of the earth is like can be to some degree postulated, though with little real clarity. After all we are still on the surface and can only try to be as profoundly superficial as it is possible to be. The dear and cherished configurations of our bays and inlets, our necessary and even noble maps that Don Quixote is a Spanish book, written in Spanish by a Spaniard about Spaniards removes it from our view. I cannot believe that Spaniards are essentially different from anyone else, though they like to think so. What is and geologic surveys, are now viewed not with skepticism, sweeping way it pinpoiots and delineates the characteristics of the general civil war of the IV est, which has gone on since Scholastic Theology was introduced. Aspects of but with wonder. Civil \vars are like volcanoes. They reveal the reality wh\ch is under civil life and tend to make us suspect that most of it is virtuallv unknowable. They should make us cherish whatever grasp we do have on order and to realize what a tenuous hold we have on civilization. They also, lest we get overly pious, give us glimpses of splendour. It is fatuous and inhuman not to admire courage and daring in the face of death, even if we are not in sympathy with the faction which ·brought forth the action, or the dogma which seems to cloak the action. Officially the Civil War in Spain began in the summer of 1936 and ended in the spring of 1939. In reality there had been a kind of civil war in Spain since 1812. \Vhile the battlefields of this war were in Spain, directly or indirectly every nation in Europe or America was in- volved. It was a cataclysm whose end signalled the beginning of a vaster and still bloodier cataclysm. A conservative figure of 600,000 dead is generally to be accepted. It is hard, of course, to distinguish between those dead in a battle, those beaten to death in a street-fight, or those who perished of tuberculosis in a crowded prison. Added to this figure would be, of course, as far as loss to Spain is concerned, the large number of refugees who fled their native soil at the approach of Franco's armies. This war was fought with more ferocity than most wars between nations. Thirteen bishops and 7,000 priests were murdered. The victors at the end showed no mercy. It is estimated that two million people had passed through the prisons and concentration camps of Nationalist Spain by 1942. It is also estimated that perhaps 100,000 were executed in the months following the war for crimes ranging from church burnings to merely having served in the administration of the losing side. I have chosen this war partly because it is still close to us; its only victor on either side, General Franco, still rules in Spain. Also its dimensions, while reverberating throughout the \vorld, are still fairh· small. It stirred the conscience of the world and still should. One should still say firmly that the wrong side won, without necessarily implying that the side which lost was not an almost hopeless muddle. The fact that it \\·as a Spanish war does not dismiss it from being worthy of our closest attention, any more than the fact striking is their intransigence in front of many experiences we all have. Their honesty takes the form of following either pleasure or ideals. Everyone who visited Spain during the war got his fingers burned. Those who had an active role in it from the outside were puzzled. The war seemed to prove no points of dogma for any dogmatist. Its very extremities teach us something about the civil war \vhich is in and around every one of us. In a less this inner and outer revolution we spend over half of our time studying here at this College. · Now we must look at a map. The Pyrenees separate Spain from Europe. In the middle there is a high, rocky, and sparse tableland, semi-desert in many places. This is the austere land of Castile. Around the edges it is richer, in Catalonia and in the Basque provinces. They point towards Europe and are the most prosperous and European provinces. They each have their own language. The Basques are an ancient people of unknown origin. Galicia in the North, though poorer than the Basque countries, also feels itself an entity. In the South is Andalusia, ancient center of the Moorish civilization. It has a population of serfs who have been in bondage since the days of the Roman empire. The land is somewhat richer but needs to be irrigated in common if it is to flourish. The poverty is appalling. The majority of the peasants are hired as day laborers during half the year only. They live in large villages and not in farms on the land. The land in Castile yields grudgingly a sparse crop of wbeat. It is generally not owned by those who work it. It is the most frugal and dignified province of Europe. In the North with much more rainfall peasants are better off and do usually have enough to eat. In Navarre they are all owners of their small farms in general and pass the property from father to son. They are a Spartan people and own the grazing lands in common from time im- memorial. The Basques are industrial with a large city, Bilbao, with factories and important banks. Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia, is a splendid and throbbing Mediterranean port, one of the great cities of the inland sea, the Mediterranean. Madrid was originally an artificial city, planted dead center in the middle by an autocratic king, built from nothing to be the administrative center of the country. Castile is in the middle and Madrid is in the middle of Castile. Every part of this peninsula separates itself fiercely from every other part. Portugal by accident happens to be independent. Catalonia always fought to be, and it is the perpetual running sore of Spain. There is always a fight between Barcelona and Madrid. The greatest emperor of the \Vest since Charlemagne, 9 �The College Charles the Fifth, emperor over Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria, and the Low Countries and most of America, had to spend great and delicate energy assuaging the local rights and charters of countless Spanish provinces, cities, regions and municipal communes. Though proudly feeling themselves Spaniards and always tending to regard the rest of the world as barbarians, they were seldom ever a Nation, in any of the usual senses of the word. It may recall to you the affairs on that famous little peninsula on the other end of the inland sea, Greece. I shall now undertake a brief sketch of the political parties which were important in the years immediately preceding the war. I shall not label my columns Communist and Fascist and only with some hesitation label the two columns Left and Right. Both sides have sinister aspects. fought with the left-wing students. Another party soon merged with them and to some extent swallowed them up. This was the "Falange Espanola," its name being taken from the Macedonian unit of battle responsible for the destruction of the remnants of democracy in Greece in the fourth century B.C. Its leader was a handsome young man named Jose An tonic Primo de Rivera, the son of the dictator of Spain during the twenties. He often sounded like a glib but not unintelligent undergraduate who had taken too many courses in political theory. To quote: "The state is founded on two principles-service to the united nation and the co-operation of classes." His favorite poem was Kipling's "If" which he would often read to his followers before a street demonstration. I shall read to you another of his speeches. His followers were generally high-spirited and longed for direct action. CEDA-(Confederacion Espanola de Derechas Autonomas) Catholic Party JONS-(J untas de Ofensiva Nacional-Sindicalista) Fascists and the Falange UME-(Union Militar Espanola) CARLISTS- (Traditionalists) UGT-(Union General de Trabajadores) Socialist Trade Union POUM-(Partido Obrero de Unificacion Marxisla) Troskyites PSUC-(Partido Socialista Unificado de Cataluna) Communists CNT and FAI-Anarchists The CEDA. It was a reflection of the general Catholic Action movement in Europe. It was an attempt to found a Christian Democratic party of the type that has had success in Italy since 1945. Rigid laws had been passed by the Republic in 1931 limiting the powers of the Church. This party then tried to reconcile many points of view that were not to the left. It had to get along with rich men upon whom it depended for funds, and also to try to keep the middle classes from becoming out and out defenders of the kings who had been deposed by popular mandate in 1931. It became the most powerful party for a brief period in 1933. Its leader was a slippery and ambitious man called Gil Robles. He flirted with Fascism and liked to be addressed as "jefe," a translation of "Duce" or "Fuehrer." The JONS or Fascist Party. The program of this party as announced in 1931 included denunciation of class war and the "impbcable examination of foreign influences in Spain." The program also included penalties for those "who speculated with the misery and ignorance of the people" and demanded the "disciplining of profits." Catholicism embodied for them the "racial" tradition of the Spaniards. They opposed the CEDA as reactionary. They trained and drilled on Sundays. In universities they 10 Paradise is not -rest. Paradise is against rest. In Paradise one cannot lie down; one must hold oneself up, like the angels. Very well; we, who have already borne on the road to Paradise the Jives of the best among us, want a difficult, erect, implacable Paradise; a Paradise where one can never rest and which has, beside the threshold of the gates, angels with swords. It must be noted also that the Falange was interested in faHeaching economic reform, which it called "revolutian." To quote again from jose Antonio: When we speak of capitalism we are not talking about property. Private property is the opposite of capitalism: property is the direct projection of man on his possessions; it is an essential hu~ man attribute. Capitalism has been substituting for this human property the technical instruments of economic domination. This young man was imprisoned and later shot by the government in the opening year of the war. CNT and FAI-l shall quote certain words of Bakunin, the Russian who founded the Anarchists movement. "1 shall die and the worms will eat me, but I want our idea to triumph. I want the masses of humanity to be really emancipated from all authorities and from all heroes past and present." This Russian aristocrat had a feeling for simple and independently minded people. He offered them a vision of heaven on this earth. He thought men not good by nature but good enough to live in a completely free society. His theories have many analogies in peasant villages where things are organized locally. In 1868 a man named Fanelli appeared in Madrid. Up to that time in Spain no socialist movement had taken hold. Fanelli was a comrade-in-arms of Garibaldi and a passionate admirer and disciple of Bakunin. He spoke no Spanish and addressed a group of perhaps ten men, most of them printers. By 1872, only five years later, there �April 1972 were 59,000 followers of Bakunin in Spain. The great new truths proclaimed may be summed up again: The· State, based on ideas of obedience and authority, is morallv evil. lnst~ad of this State there should be self-governing bodies, whether they be municipalities, professions, or other groupings, all of which would make voluntary pacts with each other. Criminals would be punished by public criticism. I will quote from a speech made by Jose Garcia Oliver, one of the leaders of the movement. In 1937 he was the Minister of Justice in the Spanish Republic. This must be one of the most extraordinarv statements made by any minister of the law. ~ Justice must be burning hot, jmtice must be alive, justice cannot be restricted within the bounds of a profession. It is not that we definitely despise books and lawv·ers. But the fact is that there were too many lawyers. [It may be noted that in 1937 after a year of war, perhaps 127 legal functionaries were dead. D.A.] \Vhen relations between men become what thev· should be, there will be no need to steal and 'kill. For the first time, let us admit here in Spain that political dialectic. This Anarchist movement obviously never followed the ways of Marx, the materialist. Education was one of their keynotes. Groups of Anarchists travelled in the early days of the movement like mendicant friars. Peasants were taught to read in night-schools. They were also often taught to be faithful to their wives, to avoid alcohol and coffee. In two contrasting regions of Spain they were strong and powerful. In Andalusia they would organize the "pueblos" into co-operating self suf. ficient communes. Pueblo also means People. The middle and upper class could then be thought of as not "people." This seemed a perfectly air-tight inference to the movement. In Catalonia the Anarchists attempted to organize the workers of factories into self-sufficient committees which would then deal on a level of parity with other workers' committees on questions of fqod, lodging, or even entertainment. They had no faith in prolonged bargaining. They had no strike funds. They believed in brutal, violent action. It is notable that even in 1936 there was not more than one paid official in the whole union. Their hatred and increasing separation from the middle classes often led them to include anvone in their ranks who protested. These would inclule, obviously, common criminals. When the secret organization, the Civil wars should make us cherish whatever grasp we do have on order and to realize what a tenuous hold we have on civilization. I ' I the common criminal is not an enemy of society. \Vho is there who says he dare not go out and steal if driven to it to feed his children and himself' Do not think that I am making a defence of robbery. But man, after all, does not proceed from God, but from the case, from the beast. Justice, I firmly believe, is so subtle a thing that to interpret it one has only need of a heart. This movement was and is religious in character. It had no intention of \\'aiting on or trusting in the historical means of production. Competition was a base instinct to it as it had always been to the Spanish Catholic Church. It is another of the cutting ironies that this war eYinces that the Church, which \\'as to suffer so cruelly from the Anarchist movement (their truly Satanic hatred, the Pope was to say), encouraged the very beliefs which the Anarchists clung to with such mm·ing and impossible devotion. ll1eory, devotion, passion, and blood seem more often a thing of ethos and character than of FA!, was organized in 1927, it meant that there was a secret army of shock troops in a state of perpetual war against the rest of Spain. They seemed to believe every word they read. If they murdered the Archbishop of Saragossa and attempted to assassinate King Alfonso, they were probably, with what they called the propaganda of the deed, applying literally certain words of Bakunin suggesting that the new world would be gained when the last king was strangled in the guts of the last priest. The idea of becoming a "political party" in any sense whatsoever was repugnant to them. They were not common criminals but religious dreamers. They numbered two million in 1936. Barcelona was their headquarters. The UGT. This party or union seemed often the type one sees in certain Scandinavian countries. It also has a Fabian side to it. It was centered in lv!adrid and was always in rivalry with the Barcelona-based Anarchists. It broke with the Bolsheviks in 1920. It was generally respected by the middle classes. Its two leaders were great ]] �The College rivals. One was Largo Caballero; an ex-plasterer who had been a conscientious and hard-working member of the Madrid City Council and of the Union's board. He learned to read at the age of twenty-four. He even served briefly under the dictatorship of Primo de Rivera perhaps because of his morbid fear of the Anarchists. His rival was 'Indalcio Prieto, who was bald, fat, intelligent and rich. His genuine qualities of mind are perhaps revealed by his following words which he wrote after examining papers left by Jose Antonio in his jail. Perhaps in Spain we have not examined with serenity our respective ideologies in order to dis~ cover the coincidences which were probably fundamental, and measure the divergences, probably secondary, in order to determine if the latter were worth being aired on the battlefield. This union, like the Anarchists, was also dedicated to education. From 1908 on they built countless "casa de pueblo," a sort of combined union office, free lending library, and a cafe. A typical small town square would now h·ave in it a church, the barracks of the Civil Guard, the town hall ~nd the Socialists' "casa del pueblo." It must be remembered that in Spain the number of free public libraries, apart from these, never exceeded four or five in the whole nation. The POUM. This was a Troskyite party, important in Catalonia. They believed in permanent revolution abroad and working class collectivism at home. In Spain at the outbreak of the war they outnumbered the Communists. They also hated them. By theory they were also opposed to the Socialists whom they described as "social fascists." Being forced by circumstance to ally themselves with someone, they would for tactical reasons often have dealings with the Anarchists. Their leader, Andres Nin, was imprisoned and later killed by the Communists under ghastly conditions during the war. The Communist Party. The Communist Party in Spain was deemed so unimportant in the twenties that the dictator of that epoch, Jose Antonio's father, did not even take the trouble to ban them officially. Yet their increasing importance up to the outbreak of the war and their enormous influence during the war is not to be attributed to numbers. It must be clearly borne in mind that they were in Spain, by no means, a revolutionary party. As a matter of brute fact, during the war they put an end to revolutionary activity and constantly and with success enforced a policy that there ought not to be a revolution but a defence of a legal government, whatever the metaphysical jargon on identity with the proletariat may have said to the contrary. This will become clearer when we turn to the actual events of the war. In this preliminary stage it will be sufficient to recall that they were a party of perhaps only 3,000 members in 1933. It is incorrect to think of the Church and the Army as parties, just as we had the same difficulty with the An- 12 archists. The Army was a perpetual source of power. Throughout the nineteenth century there was one "pro. nunciamento" after another. General succeeded general in the same sickening pattern which we are so acquainted with in the history of the republics to the south of us. In the decades preceding the Civil War, the Spanish Armv had shown few signs of even competence. It is perfect];· obvious that it was not a force intended to fight foreig~ wars but rather to enforce order within the borders. Its defeat in the war with this United States in 1898 lost it much of its prestige. It also suffered defeats of great humiliation in its wars with the Moroccans. However the very comradeship of defeat gave its officers a comma~ heritage. The Church in Spain in the 1930's numbered nearlr 20,000 monks, 60,000 nuns, and 31,000 priests. T11er'e were around 5,000 religious communities of which 1.008 were male and the rest female. It was estimated bv Catho. lies that perhaps two-thirds of the Spaniards at ihis time were not practicing Catholics. In some villages of the South perhaps one per cent of the men attended mass. As has been already noted, Anarchism, another faith, had in many regions taken the place of church. It must not be forgotten however that Spain once was the greatest empire since Rome. In this period it was the Church that held all together. Its theologians preached an egalitarian relation between the Sons of God on this earth. Theso doctrines were also economic. I quote from Father Juan de Mariana, writing in 1599. It is a duty of humanity for us to open to all men the riches which God gave in common to all, since to all he gave the earth as a patrimony, so that all without distinction might live by its fruits. Only unbridled greed could claim for itself this gift of heaven, appropriating as its own the foods and riches which were intended to be the property of all. ... God wishes then, and it is laid down by his laws, that now that human nature, corrupted as it is, has proceeded to a partition of common goods, they should not be monopolized by a few, and that a part should always be set aside for the consolidation of the people's infirmities .... In a Republic in which some are overstuffed with riches and others lack the very necessities, neither peace nor happiness is possible. This just and compassionate man of God was ~n no tt:~ speaking contrary to the thought of the Spamsh Ct... " in its great period. This Spanish egalitarianism,_:·~;~' spiritual; it detested the bonds of commerce and. ,.o ... It resisted the material forces of this world and 1" .r"' lain respects it is a loftier concept of "democr:JCI · ~'.::. is ours in this country. Their understanding of dcmCd-'-: is impractical I stress entirely impractical. Hmrcr·c:. '": practibility d~es not imply impossibility. T11is unde:,::.no- �April 1972 ing of democracy scorns the use of the word "progress" and finds "technology" uninteresting. One must be care- · ful of the use of the word democracy; this Spanish understanding is not ours, and ours is not the same as People's Democracies. The understanding of the uses of this word is one reason for this lecture. In" 1837 the Liberals in Spain succeeded in confiscating manv of the lands of the Church. These liberals were entran~ed with the new ideas of Europe and wished to introduce the notions of Adam Smith. The result was to sell the lands to profiteers and speculators. Partly as a result of this, the Church began consolidating its monev into banks and commercial undertakings. Rome was aiso interested in keeping at least one nation in Europe free from liberal atheism. Much building went on. "Money is very cat11ohc'·· became a common saying. Two quotati"ons from the Spanish Church's catechism of 1927 may indicate the character of at least part of the Church. The question "what kind of sin is committed by one who votes for a liberal candidate" was answered by "Generally a mortal sin." The answer to "Is it a sin for a Catholic to read a liberal newspaper" was "He may read the Stock sincere thanks to your Excellency for Spain's Catholic Victory." Despite this, it must be noted that the Vatican did not condemn the Basque priests as heretics, which was Franco's ardent desire that they should. There remains one other party to talk of, the Carlists. Their stronghold was in the Pyrenees' valleys of Nav~rre. The modern had penetrated not at all to this regwn. The king they sought was a pretender, not even the king that had been recently deposed. Their ideas on politics were rudimentary. The leader of this party in the Cortes (Count Rodenzo) was once asked who would be Prime Minister if the king returned. "You, or one of these gentlemen," replied the Count, "It is a matter of secretaries." "But what should you do?" "I," said the Count, "I should stay with the King and we should talk about hunting." Th.eir motto was "Dios, Patria, e Rey." However there was nothing fraudulent about their deep religious disavowal of the modern world. Their sincerity is no more to be doubted than that of the Anarchists. They fought with classic Spartan heroism during the war. There would sometimes be three generations of the same family on the front. One must be careful of the use of the word democracy; this Spanish understanding is not ours, and ours is not the same as People's Democracies. The understanding of the uses of this word is one reason for this lecture. Exchange News." The shooting of priests and the burning of churches was most often done by working class people infuriated by a priest's flagrantly contradicting Christ's teachings on poverty and hypocritically showing himself to be a respecter of well-born persons. The decline of the Church snuffed out not one iota of the uncompromising intensity it had instilled in the souls of its communicants. What the Pope called "satanic hatred" is by the same token a harvest of the faith. In the French Revolution one is struck by the courage and integrity of the priests. Time and time again they would risk their lives to bring the sacraments to the people. In Spain this was sadly lacking. The notable exception to this was in the Basque proYinces. Indeed Franco found it necessarv to exile or imprison Basque priests for their loyalty to' his enemies. Sixteen of them were executed by the Rebels. At the end of the war Franco received a telegram from the new Pope PJUs XII saying "Lifting up our heart to God, we give Let us trace as briefly as possible the course of events from 1931 to the outbreak of the war in 1936. There were three sets of elections, 1931, 1933, and 1936. Primo Rivera, the dictator from 1923 to 1930, had been deposed and he was succeeded by a year of tight-rope walk· ing by that giddy but not unintelligent king, Alfonso XIII. Elections were forced upon him for a variety of com· plex reasons and his followers were defeated despite an enormous amount of dirty work at the polls. His last words publicly to his people were as follows: Sund~rv's elections have shown me that I no longer. enjoy the love of my people. I could very easily find means to support my royal prerogatives against all-comers, but I am determmed to have nothing to do with setting one of my countrvmen against another in a fratricidal civil war. Thus, until the nation speaks, I shall delib- 13 �The College erately suspend the use of my Royal Prerogatives. The import of this message is somewhat puzzling though undoubtedly serious. This new Republic was in part the creation of the generation of '98. Many of them were men of deep seriousness and intelligence. They often made speeches and then accused men and Fate because what they said had little effect. The elections were won simply through a defect and disruption of all of the old powers of Church, Army, and Civil Service. All of the conservative forces would have accepted it if it had changed nothing except the form of the government, in other words if it did nothing. This was impossible. Things were too badly disrupted. It must be remembered also that the Anarchists by theory resisted government. The people themselves, in all of the deep misery of their poverty, rightfully expected something from an election in which they had put a government in power. This "government" as constituted was not socialist. Both Caballero and Prieto were ministers but they were satisfied for the time being with reforms to be accomplished by the process of law. No program of agrarian reform was instituted immediately. Instead the government turned immediately to the obsession of the Liberals, the separation of Church and State. This action only alienated sections of the country and avoided the deep and glaring questions of the peasants and the land. Soon there were outbreaks all over the face of the country. At the same time the Anarchists burned some churches. The government naturally called on the Guardia and the Army. There were some minor massacres and much blood. Part of the pre-election agreements had included provisions for granting Catalonia virtual autonomy. This exasperated every centralist who wanted Spain to be one. 11Vith an incredible indifference to what was appropriate, they introduced drastic reforms into the Army and the Civil Service. They retired many generals at full pay, giving them adequate means and time to plot against the regime. · New elections were called for in 1933 and they swung the government in the other direction. The CEDA, which I previously talked of, now comes to the fore. They won a sweeping victory at the polls. They won because the workers and the peasants were disgusted that nothing or not enough had been accomplished by the previous government. Ladies had the vote because of the reforms of the previous government and mostly voted as their confessors instructed them. The separation of Church and State was repealed. The Army was increased. Any agrarian measures already passed were castrated. In early October of 1934 a ·kind of revolution was declared. The UGT called for a general strike in Madrid. The Anarchists, their enemies, did not participate. The government put it down and the socialist leaders were in prison by nightfall. In Barcelona the opportunity was taken to proclaim 14 a more independent Catalonia. TI1e Anarchists held themselves aloof here also. This was also put down by the government. In the mining region of the Asturias, however1 the rising had enormous temporary success. It was carefully prepared by tough-minded and well-organized miners. There were arms and dynamite and committees. Timidity gave way suddenly to violence, traversing no middle ground. \1Vorkers' soviets were organized. It was a heroic moment for the working class. The amount of co-operation surprised everyone and even caused the Anarchists to stop and consider untheoretically for once the possible uses of organization. Anarchists, Socialists, and Troskyites got together under the slogan of UHP (Union de Hermanos Proletarios.) (Union of 1\'orking Class Brothers.) Even the Communists were involved through you may recall their number was very small. A bishop's palace was burned and several priests shot. There was ·enormous public· excitement and enthusiasm. The government took severe measures. Generals Goded and Francisco Franco were made chiefs of staff. These two generals asked for the African Foreign Legion and certain Moorish troops. They were immediately successful. After fifteen days it was all up. One of the conditions of the surrender was that the Moors and the Foreign Legion be withdrawn. They were not, and behaved as if they were a conquering army living off suffering. One thousand three hundred thirty died and 30,000 were wounded on the civilian side. There were few casualties on the side of the Moors and the Legion. Indignities and bestial tortures were common. It may also be interesting to recall that the Asturias was the only section of Spain never to have been conquered by the Moors when they overran the Peninsula in the seventh and eighth centuries. It was at this time that Caballero in prison began reading Marx. He began to envisage himself as a Spanish Lenin. He was almost seventy, a man up till then noted for his caution and respect for legitimate reform. Prieto, the other leading Socialist, had fled to France, having disapproved of the rising against the government. After the Asturias revolt, civil war seemed inevitable to many. To have prevented it would have called for genius and energy which rarely, if ever, can be found. A great public scandal involving a new type of roulette wheel called the "straperlo" now erupted. Vast profits had been promised to government ministers. The American Ambassador in Madrid at that time reports that at a certain moment in a debate at the Cortes, Jose Antonio leaned over a balcony, aflame with mischief and youthful disgust with corruption and yelled "viva Straperlo." You might imagine this better if you were to conceive of a 1ong and exhausting session of the l\1aryland Legislature being interrupted by one of its youthful members crying, "Hurrah for Slot-Machines," and if in addition the young man was the head of youthful and increasingly violent groups of street gangs. The government fell. It was the twenty-sixth govern- �April 1972 ment crisis since 1931. Seventy-two ministers had served in one or other of the cabinets. The feeling towards democracy was perhaps something like that of the French in 1958 after fifteen years of the Fourth French Republic. In February 1936 new elections were held. The "Frente Popular" won. This Popular Front was an alliance between liberal Republicans and Socialists, Anarchists, and Communists. It was clearly understood that all groups would be free again once the election was over. Part of the victory may be attributed to the Anarchists giving up part of their dogma. Up to now they had by theory abstained from participation in elections. The Asturias revolt had taught them the value of co-operation. \\lith the possibili!:J• of power in their nostrils, practicality entered to some degree. The Communists were behind the Popular Front also. The\• had previously, in defiance of principles, co-operated with the Anarchists, next with the Socialists, and now even with the Republican liberals. The prc\·ious August in 1\loscow, Dimitrov, a Bulgarian who was general secretary of the Comintern, defined the aims of world communism in the face of the threat posed by Hitler to the Soviet Union. I quote: The formation of a joint People's Front providing for joint action with the Social Democratic themselves. Caballero, intoxicated perhaps by Communist flattery, talked about the dictatorship of the proletariat. His rival in the party, Prieto, was in violent opposition. Peasants in many parts of the country began expropriating the land of absentee landlords and dividing it up amongst themselves. Generals began to get together and plot, especially Generals Mola and Franco. Franco was sent to the Canary Islands as governor. The older party of the right, the CEDA, seemed increasingly powerless · and Calvo Sotelo, a handsome and ruthless Monarchist, emerged as a polarizing leader. Four months after the election there seem to have been 160 churches burnt and 269 political murders; sixty-nine political centers had been wrecked. There had been 113 general strikes and ten newspaper offices had been sacked. All kinds of groups were out drilling on Sundays. The Falange, which seemed to have been an enthusiastic group of upper class boys under the guidance of a handsome fellow who liked poetry and political theory, became increasingly violent. It was outlawed by the government and some of its leaders imprisoned. The generals had already begun a flirtation with the Fala·nge. It seemed the part of expedience to have some party dedicated to violence with which to meet the increasing violence of the Left. The older members of the Falange did not like the alliance. \Vere What the Pope called "satanic hatred" is by the same token a harvest of the faith. parties is a necessity. Cannot we endeavor to unite the Communist, Social Democratic, Catholic, and other workers. Comrades, you will remember the ancient tale of the capture of Troy. The attacking army was unable to achieve victory until, with the aid of the Trojan Horse, it penetrated to the very heart of the enemy camp. \Ve, revolutionary workers, should not be shy of using the same tactics. This was a policy which gave a cheap Machiavellian thrill to many persons at that time and now. One could have one's cake and also be clever. In Spain, however, the Communists \\~ere still too insignificant for their actions to be important. The Spanish Popular Front would have won easih· without them. The n~w government was formed again of liberals. The working class parties began immediately to fight among not the Army and the Church and the old forces of sterility the very forces which the new unified and strong Spain should abhor? Again chances for action easily overpowered both ideas and ideals, or at least left them smouldering under the surface. Jose Antonio wrote a Jetter to a general quoting as usual from a book, this time Spengler: "After all, in the last resort, it has always been a platoon of soldiers who have saved civilization." The Republic failed because it could not from both ineptitude and inability and principle compromise or walk a middle ground between Right and Left. The President of the Republic, Azana, an austere and eloquent man who in other times and places would have been a writer, from the reaches of the Presidential palace reSected that the Spanish working classes were "raw material for an artist." To one journalist he remarked that the Cortes was one big cafe. To another journalist he remarked: "Sol y sombre. Light and shade; That is Spain." 15 �The College It is to be noted that seats in Spanish bull rings are named either Sol or Sombra, according to whether they are shaded on not. On July 13, Calvo Sotelo, the Monarchist leader, was shot by members of the official troops of the government in reprisal for the shooting of one of their members by the Falangists. It, with reason, seemed to the right, and perhaps not only to the right, that the government could not control even its own agents. On the 17th of July the generals began their rising and the civil war began. There was a big surprise in store for the generals. The workers, small people and peasants who may have quarrelled among themselves when their government was unchallenged, rose in fury when it was challenged. What the Socialists and the Anarchists by themselves could not achieve, was accomplished in one day by the revolt of the generals. North Africa was immediately under the control of the Rebels and Franco flew in from the Canary Islands to take charge there. In Spain itself General ]Viola had immediate success in a much smaller area than envisagedroughly Burgos, Salamanca, Navarre, and Saragossa. Seville was taken with great bloodshed by a bragadoccio of a general, Queipo di Llano. The Basque provinces remained Joyal and found themselves an island surrounded by rebel territory. Andalusia was plunged overnight into the most violent of revolution, as was Catalonia. The revolt failed completely in the greatest cities of Spain-Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia and Bilbao. Neither side really had either proper equipment, material, or soldiers to fight a long war. Both sides immediately sought for help from abroad. Franco and Mala had at ]east the Foreign Legion, Moorish troops, about two-thirds of the Guardia Civil and a good part of the regular army. The Moors and the Legion were, however, for a while, the only effective troops. The government had some of the regular troops. It was forced by the people in the first days of the revolt to give arms to the Anarchists and the Socialists. It was loath to do so and its delay was nearly fatal. The government had in its hands the only two industrial centers of importance, Bilbao and Barcelona. It had also the gold reserve of the Bank of Spain which, interestingly enough, was the sixth largest reserve in the world. Much or all of this later went to Soviet Russia as payment for arms. The government had practically no reserves of arms. The equipment was dangerously antiquated. There were few trained technicians on either side. The air force on both sides was in a parlous state. The chapter of this war on how much and under what conditions foreign aid was received on both sides is of fantastic complexity. Let it suffice to say at this point that Franco almost immediately received aircraft and equipment and pilots from both Hitler and Mussolini. He was able to transport across the straits from Africa the only crack troops existing. It must also be noted that 16 from the beginning of the revolt until the end of the war he was given unlimited credit by the Texas Oil Company. The head of the Popular Front government in France, Leon Blum, was immediately in sympathy with the government and wished to send airplanes and material in abundance. Members of this government were opposed to any embroilment and the English, France's most reliable ally, were in general opposed. The English were involved in a delicate dance with both Hitler and Mussolini which culminated in Munich. A diplomatic minuet, entitled a Non-Intervention Pact, was set up by all interested parties. This group of diplomats continued to meet throughout the war. In practice what happened was that both Italy and Germany shipped increasing amounts of aid and men to Spain and blatantly ignored or effectively reduced to talk any non-intervention on their own part. Russia was in a tight bind, and was a member of the Pact. Allied to France,. on the one hand, out of fear of Hitler, and with the spectacle of a genuine revolution on the other, she finally began to ship increasing amounts of war material to Spain. The Russians instructed their agents to carefully curb the revolution and to make every effort to preserve parliamentary democracy. The Russians then could claim to be the only foreign government which aided Spanish democracy. Stalin probably calculated that to send enough to win the war would have embroiled him in a general war with Germany and Italy, and the Germans and the Italians probably felt the same. It is in a way the spectacle of neither Russia on the one hand nor the Germans and the Italians on the other really wanting their side to win. They did want to prevent their protegees from losing, however. "Yes, my darling daughter, hang your clothes on a hickory limb, but don't go near the water." After Munich, however, this changed. Germany found it could get away, quite literally, with murder, and Russia moved towards an alliance with Hitler. The policy of talk, talk, talk, on the part of England and France proved nearly disastrous for them; especially as the opponents were doing more than talking. This situlion was reflected internally in the political sketch I gave of Spain in the years preceding the war-namely the liberal parliamentarians of the Spanish Parliament could neither muster the strength nor effectively promulgate any program which would curb the rising tides of violence. The first great action in the war was Franco's march north and east to the gates of Madrid. The northern troops under the command of Mala struck south down through the heights of the Guadaramma where they were stopped. By September 3 Franco had taken the last town of any consequence before Madrid. Rather than describing in detail many battles, it is now of interest to see as closely as can be seen from the most dispassionate eyewitnesses to these events, what the war and revolution was like in towns and countryside on both sides. Let us begin in Barcelona and Catalonia. The An- �April 1972 archists took over effective control almost immediately. \ \1hile the government of Catalonia remained, effective· control was taken by the people directly. Almost every church was burnt. One eye witness reports that this was done sometimes in an almost pious way. It was a duty to be fulfilled and a fire engine was waiting circumspectly at the scene to prevent the fire spreading to neighboring buildings. All owners of factories were either killed or fled. Hotels, banks, stores, street-car lines were all requisitioned or closed. l\Ianaging committees of former workers or technicians were in charge. No one in the streets wore a necktie, and Spain is generally in its large cities almost offensively elegant and dandy-ish. Orwell speaks of barber shops with signs solemnly announcing that barbers are not slaves. Prostitutes were urged by large colored posters to stop being prostitutes. The CNT ordered all of its workers to work. The middle classes were amazed at the sense of responsibility. It certainly was the only time in history that Anarchists controlled a great city. The part\· had radio stations, newspapers, and endless periodicals. Certain of the Anarchists saw this as a decay-their leaders were sullying the purity of the movement by becoming interested in power. By the following March everyone who visited the city noted an immense change. It was a city of terror. The Anarchists were losing control. The POUM was being was never imputed to his wife. One village abolished the 1 greeting 'A Dios" because, as they said, "there is no more God in Heaven." A story of this time which proves no political point except perhaps the fundamental one is that of a young girl who after the burning of her convent had to find a more suitable garb than a nun's habit. She found a dress covered with sparkling sequins which fitted her. On arriving back at her village, many miles from the city, she . was stoned to death by the villagers as her dress obviously seemed to be that of a prostitute. The revolution in Andalusia was, if anything, even more brutal and extreme. The rebel armies were in several of the large cities. A kind of urgency for blood was evidenced. The villages were isolated from one another. The lines of the two sides were irregular. In some villages the puritanism of the Anarchist movement had such effect as to not only abolish money, but went so far as to close the village bar and to prohibit tobacco. Franz Borkenau upon visiting such a village comments that their hatred of the upper class was far less economic than moral. "They did not want to get the good living of those they had expropriated, but to get rid of their luxuries, which seemed to them so many vices." However, here as in many other parts of Spain, the gap between ideals and reality was enormous. The putting In order to persuade, you would need what you lack: Reason and Right in the struggle. persecuted, a civil war within a civil war was raging. On the streets the people again wore elegant suits and neckties and the prisons were full, not of prisoners from the front, but of political prisoners. The Communist party was assuming more and more power. In the countryside of Catalonia the Anarchists took over as they had· in Barcelona. They wanted to organize the land in common, to try to abolish the use of money (an unclean thing), and to procure the objects needed from the outside world by direct exchange with the trade unions of the city. However, there was in th~~ry no central control and the regular Catalan government was not prepared to initiate such a policy, and certainly not the increas~ ingly pmYerful Communist party. Every village had its own committees, howeyer, and guarded fiercely its newly won liberties. Generally the priest and his strongest adherents, the la\\")"tr and his son, the squire and the richest peasants, stood a good chance of being shot. \\'omen and children were almost never shot and a husband's guilt into effect of one's good intentions had sometimes nothing to do with the satisfaction felt in merely having such intentions. It must also be said that often the schemes worked remarkably well. Peasants would voluntarily cooperate and raise more food than ever raised. Many factories in Barcelona improved production. This is by no means to be explained away by the euphoria of the first months of the war. Something seemed to well up which was native to the customs and instincts of the people. Madrid looked differently than Barcelona. It seemed on the surface an ordinary city in time of war. It was re~ bellious rather than revolutionary. It must be remembered that Madrid is the center of the Socialist party, which had long habits of working legally and with a central committee. There was perhaps more hidden terror and accusations and counter-accusations than in Barcelona where the enemies had at first been so quickly and ruthlessly dealt with. There were no beggars on the streets of Barcelona whereas Madrid was full still of both beggars and 17 �The College rich. The militia was much better organized here and the Communists had already formed their famous and courageous Fifth Regiment. Another aspect evidenced particularly on the Republican side, might be called an absence of pathological excitement. There seemed to be no great upheavals in the sex life of the country, such as is often noted in other wars. \Vomen, for example, for almost the first time in Spain, participated on the Republican side in all kinds of activities, even as far as fighting with the militia. They were almost universally respected. There was a lack of any psychological crisis. This is perhaps another of the things which cause us to pause and reflect on the nature of this civil war. Whether we phrase this in the classic terms of ' idion" and ukoinon," the individual and the common thing in politics, or in terms of psychological adaptation, we are merely looking at two aspects of the same and perpetual problem of man as social. Despite the fact of a dreadful and bloody civil war and centuries of unbelievable mis-government and insult, dignity was not destroyed, nor was poise of individuals. Ethics re1 mained. cOurage, honour, and a resurgent honest}' were not blotted out. were much more common than on the other side. \Vives and daughters of offenders were sometimes raped or had their heads shaved. Bodies were often left exposed for days to the public gaze. The working class had to be terrorized before any general could creep into bed at night and sleep with any sense of security. The Church insisted merely that those killed should be allowed to confess. One priest on Majorca said "Only ten per cent of these dear children refused the last sacrament before being despatched by our good officers." Occasionally a more kind-hearted official would arrange to have a good supply of wine on hand so that those about to die might drown their despair in drunkenness. Often prisoners dug their own graves before being shot in them. It is certain that General Franco gave orders that no appeals for mercy were to reach him until after the execution of the sentence. General Mola, after a while, declared himself inconvenienced by the bodies on the roadside and the executions then occurred more discreetly. The Falange seemed not so given to such works, but rather they were the doings of the generals or of the old parties of the right. It must not be thought that the Falange was in power, however, despite the fact that every- Those who find in these words merely excess, or merely propaganda, or who can with obvious facility destroy the meaning with logic, can never hope to understand politics. The character of the rebellious half of Spain, henceforth to be known as Nationalist Spain, was completely military. The lowest of corporals had things easier. Martial law took over the complete administration of justice. Everyone was investigated, especially administrative and judicial officers. They had, obviously, to be completely pliant to the will of the military. One heard such taunts constantly as "Those who don't wear uniforms should wear skirts." Only two movements or parties were allowed, the Falangists and the Carlists. All members of Popular Front parties, all members of Masonic lodges, all members of trade unions, and even in. many regions all who had voted for the Popular Front, were arrested and many of these shot. A strike was punishable by death. The number of executions was enormous, though it seemed to vary somewhat according to the desires of the local commanders. Certainly every provincial governor or official, if appointed by the Popular Front, was executed. Atrocities 18 one for a variety of reasons clamored to join its ranks. \Nilly Messerschmidt, a German aircraft manufacturer visiting Spain in August, commented that the Falange seemed to have no particular aims or ideas. "They seemed merely young people for whom it is good sport to play with fiream1s and round up Communists and Socialists." The cities in Nationalist Spain were strangely silent. Posters of the Falange covered whole sides of buildings saying "The Falange calls you, now or never. There is no middle course. \\lith us or against us." The Carlists had also large posters which announced: "Our Flag is the only True Flag. The Flag of Spain, always the same." As a matter of fact it was a big issue as to whether the flag should be that of the l\1onarchy or that of the Republic. The Falange became increasingly Catholic. It become obligatory for the regular Falangist to attend mass, confess, and take Communion. The propagandized ideal became for men, half-monk, half-warrior, and for ladies a �April 1972 kind of combination of Saint Teresa and Isabella, the Catholic Queen. This was a marked change from the earlier character of the Falange. Only one bishop, the Bishop of Vitoria, showed any reluctance in supporting the movement. Some priests actually fought and the chief of Nationalist propaganda was the fanatical Fr. Ysurdiaga. It should not be forgotten that the Inquisition had only been abolished in Spain in 1837, and that it was one of the aims of the Carlists to restor.e it. Their periodicals had described it as: "That most august tribunal, brought down by angels from heaven to earth." It is also to be noted that Franco would often give propaganda-like positions to Falangists so that they might feel the image of power without having any. Carlism looked only to the past. It wanted neither glory and certainlv not prosperity. They promised only "order" and respect for "hierarchies." The Falangists, on the other hand, as we have seen from Jose Antonio's speeches, were exuberant and drunk on future glon·. Supreme order in the past or supreme order in the future and reality and present fact, namely General Franco, 1·ery much in the present. \Ve have then a civil war within a ci\'il war also on the right. Obviously reality won this war. Franco finally formed a party with the jaw-breaking title of the "Falange Espanola Tradicionalista Y de las Juntas de Ofensiva Nacional-Sindicalista." The title included both the Falange, the Carlists, the old JONS. It satisfied no one while paying lip-service to all. Jose Antonio's teachings, such as they \Vere, were gradually sluffed off and he was made into the Saint, the martyred saint of the Nation. This young man's bones were taken, after the war, from a common graveyard in Alicante where he had been shot, and after a torchlight procession of three hundred miles they were interred in the Escorial, the austere palace of Philip the Second and the tomb of the Spanish kings. His bach·, his photographs, and his memory became official symbols. An earnest, stron_g, and even honest man, Hedilla, 1vas the last independent leader of the Falange. He showed resistance to Franco. After some months of sordid intrigue which can interest only those with debased lvlachiavellian tendencies, Hedilla was removed from office and Franco w~s proclaimed "jefe" or chief of the partY. Hedilla was placed in solitary confinement in the Canan· Islands and had no one to talk to except his Jesuit confessor. It was hoped he might rot to death. His wife went insane during this period and ended her dars in an asdum. Hedilla resisted. He was a strong man, and in 1941 he was moved to comfortable quarters. Most of the most prominent intellectuals of pre-war Spain were on the Republican side. They \\·ere mostly of the famous "Generation of '98" and had assisted at a re\'ival, and a genuine reYival, of thought and integrity in Spain. They signed a manifesto supporting the Republic. The \'iolenee of the early days and the increasing influence of Communists caused manv of them to flee the countrv. Ther had all had much to do with the foundations of tlie Republic in 1931. Unamuno, the most noted Spanish philosopher, stayed on the Rebel side in what he called "its struggle for civilization against tyranny." He was the author of a book which some of you may know called The Tragic Sense of Life. I shall quote from the opening of this book. He says he is interested in: The man of flesh and bone-the man who is born, suffers and dies, the brother. There is another thing which is called man and he is the subject of not a few elucubrations more or less scientific. He is the legendary featherless biped, the Zoon politikon of Aristotle, the social-contracter of Rousseau, the economic man of the Manchester economist, the homo sapiens of Linnaeus, or ·if vou like, the vertical mammal. A man, in brie(who is only an idea. That is to say, a no-man. The man we have to do with is the man of flesh and bone-!, you, the reader, all of us who walk solidly on the earth. And this concrete man is the supreme object of all philosophv. Man should be better defined as an affective or feeling animal. It fits better than to call him a rational animal. More often have I seen a cat reason than laugh or weep. Man has immortal longings and finds them real; they are the necessities of the heart and the will. His book ends with the words "And may God deny you peace, but give you glory." He tries to solve the problem which cannot be solved-man's agonized desire to be assured of personal immortality. There is no such assurance, but out of the agony comes the energy of our soul. By October Unamuno had changed his mind. On October 12 there was a great ceremony held in the hall of the University of Salamanca. In the 'chair was Unamuno, in his position as rector of the University. Also present was the provincial governor, Mrs. Franco, the Bishop of Salamanca, and lvlilan Astrav, a much-wounded, violent and somewhat pathological ~an who was head of the Foreign Legion. He led off the proceedings with a violent attack on Catalonia and the Basque provinces, calling them "cancers in the body of the nation. Fascism, which is Spain's health-giver, will know how to exterminate both, cutting into the live healthy flesh like a resolute surgeon free from false sentimentality." Someone at the back of the hall piped up with "Viva la Muerte" or "hurrah for death," which was General Astray's motto. Then there followed the usual clenched fists ;nd cries of Spain-One. Certain people saluted the sepia portrait of Franco which hung behind the podium. Unamuno rose and spoke as follows. I quote: All of vou are hanging on my words. You all know nle and are aware that I' am unable to remain silent. At times to be silent is to lie. For silence can 'be interpreted as acquiescence. I want 19 �The College to comment on the speech-to give it that name-of General Milan Astray, who is here among us. Let us waive the personal affront implied in the sudden burst of vituperation against the Basques and the Catalans. I was myself, of course, born in Bilbao. The Bishop [and Unamuno here pointed to the quaking prelate at his side], whether he likes it or not is a Catalan from Barcelona. Obviously there was a silence as of the tomb. No one had raised his voice in such a manner in Nationalist Spain. He went on: Just now I heard a necrophilous and senseless cry: "Long Live Death." And I, who have spent my life shaping paradoxes which must have aroused the uncomprehending anger of others, I must tell you, as an expert authority, that this outlandish paradox is repellent to me. General Milan Astray is a cripple. Let it be said without any slighting undertone. He is a war invalid. So was Cervantes. Unfortunately there are all too many cripples in Spain just now. And soon there will be even more of them if God does not come to our aid. It pains me to think that General This was his last lecture. The professor of Canon t,,. had the courage to go out arm in arm with his r . -· ·and interestingly on the other arm was Mrs. Franc:·ll; remamed under house arrest until his death of a b•oL: heart on the last day of 1936. · "" With Franco's armies at the gates of l\!adrid the Republic seemed doomed. The early revolutiona~· suttn, and the herOIC work of people's militias was not -suffi:ic"! to fight the Rebels who were being increasingh· ann,.-' by Hitler and Mussolini. A revolutionarv mm·cn;<">t b~ fought well as guerillas (a Spanish word; vou mas· note\. Their greatest mistake was in not consolidating the rt:'.-om. tion in the country. If the peasants had been asrurcd a£ any real policy of land tenure or as was ne=son· gisot the nature of the land, effective collectivization, tfoc rn<> lution would have been clinched and Franco would lua had the solid resistance, the continued resistance of tL-:: villages. This program was fudged. The socialists still cb liked the anarchists, the liberals were afraid. and "'''"' one realized that the only nations thev could hope w gain aid from, would be frightened by the prospc-~t. ,\, it was, given the farce of the non-intervention pact. only Soviet Russia helped and it was by no meam a "".,m,. tionary country any longer. Help they did, howt:'.-a, and the whole world was galvanized by the defence of l\bdrid. In the end the mask of reality and the present fact of power conquered. Milan Astray should dictate the pattern of mass psychology. A cripple who lacks the spiritual greatness of a Cervantes is wont to seek ominous relief causing mutilation around him. General Astray could not hold himself back at this point and shouted out another of his slogans "Abajo la Inteligencia" [Down with Intelligence]. Much public support and hand-clapping in the audience. Unamuno went on. This is the temple of the intellect. And I am its high priest. It is you who profane its sacred precincts. You will win, because you have more than enough brute force. But you will not convince. For to convince you need to persuade. And in order to persuade, you would need what you lack: Reason and Right in the struggle. I consider it futile to exhort you to think of Spain. I have done. 20 Franco had already made up his lists of those to be >h« and had trucks of food ready to feed the ci,·ili:m P"i""' lation. The Radio in Lisbon had alreadv broadcast a description of Franco's entrance into Madrid on a sdut<: horse. In such a crisis the working class leader.; cnh:'!cd the government with no surprise on am·one's part. h..., the Anarchist, Garcia Oliver, whose speech I read to Y"" earlier. The Anarchists' paper spoke of it as "the m::n! transcendental day in the political historv of the <;"'-'"' try." A wise Anarchist father, whose daughter l>":u ~' sumed the portfolio of Minister of Health. told Ins <De.;'·· ter that this meant the liquidation of Anarch~:".':."()~"'~' in power you \Vill not rid yoursel\'es of power. 1 IJC f.-~· ernment itself, under the leadership of CabJll<;:.•. ~· cided it would be safer in Valencia, \\'hich indcn! :: ·-·-"· and the Communists remained, confident. rn- 1 ~::~·;~:... and courageous. That extraordinary w.oman kno\~-n :u L! Passionaria broadcast daily on the radw. . . • ,. _. A fantastic battle ensued. On the rebel SJde """ ·• '"" �April 1972 equipped modern army of only about 20,000 troops, mainly Moors, and the Foreign Legion. They were backed by German and Italian tanks and aircraft. On the other side was the populace of Madrid. It must not be said that the battle was gained by the entrance of the International Brigades. It would have been lost without them and they fought with the greatest of heroism. But it was the victory of the people of Madrid. A Republican deputy on the night of November 8, proclaimed on Madrid Radio: Here in Madrid is the universal frontier that separates Liberty and Slavery. It is here in Madrid that two incompatible civilizations undertake their great struggle: love against hate, peace against war, the fraternity of Christ against the tyranny of the Church-this is Madrid. It is fighting for Spain, for Humanity, for Justice, and, with the mantle of its blood, it shelters all human beings. Madrid, Madrid. In the spring of 1937 the process of revolution was everywhere being slmved down by Caballero~s government. The local committees of political movements in the villages were being replaced by regular municipal councils. Nationalization of foreign firms was stopped completely and the other factories were being harassed which were still under workers committees. The Communists became the heart and soul of the resistance to Franco. It must be granted to them the organization of a skillful armv and more effective centralization. The war could not hav~ been fought without them and no other nation helped. They demanded the suppression of many parties and Caballero could resist only to a point. The POUM or Troskvites were thrown to the lions and their leader Nin was" assassinated in prison. It must be remembered that in the Soviet Union at this time the most far-reaching bureaucratic purges were being carried on. The Communists were entirely totalitarian in spirit-their appetite for power was insatiable and they were unscrupulous. One writer compares their actions to that of the Jesuit misThose who find in these \VOrds merely excess, or merely sionaries in China during the seventeenth century, who, propaganda, or who can with obvious facility destroy the meaning with logic, can never hope to understand politics. It might be further said that they are not worthy of understanding such affairs which deal with life and with death. A fierce battle was waged within the University City, a group of neiv buildings which had been one of the prides of King Alfonso. There were fights with no quarter given. Often one found the International Brigades, with all their babel of tongues, fighting in these halls the Foreign Legion, the slogan of whose founder was "Down With Intelligence." (Durutti, the fanatical leader of the Anarchists in Catalonia in the early days, was killed near the University City. He had preached a new doctrine in the last months of "the discipline of indiscipline''-in other words, participation in government. It is sometimes thought that he may have been killed by one of the "uncontrollables" who wished to retain the pure faith of anarchism.) Franco said that he would rather destroy the city than leave it to the "Marxists" and the German Condor Legion of aviators was anxious to study 'the reaction of civilian populations to carefully planned bombings. They concentrated, as far as possible, on hospitals and telephone headquarters. Such calculations often have different effects than those planned for. The bombardments increased the will to resistance, as \Vas sometimes to be noted during the Second \\Torld \\Tar on both sides of the fence. The battle eventually stalemated and the fierce fighting was limited often to bloody attempts to regain roads leading into Madrid. The rest of the enormous front had much the character that Orwell describes in Catalonia and Aragon. There would be knots of dirty, shivering men gathered around flags on a hillside. Across the valley would be another such group. Stray bullets would occasionally whistle back and forth. the better to convert the Chinese, suppressed the story of the Crucifixion. There were no ideals in their program and everything was to be leveled to a dead level of obedience and devotion. The country was flooded with secret police and the vitality and splendour of the two great parties, the Anarchists and the Socialists, was drained away. (There was obviously a foreign Pope also, if one wishes to keep up the analogy with the Jesuits.) Despite all of this one must note that the government was moving towards a somewhat better Spain. There were 60,000 teachers in Republican Spain as opposed to 37,000 in all of Spain in 1931. Industries connected with the war had increased production by thirty to fifty per cent. Tenant farmers and landless laborers disappeared. Typhoid, diptheria and smallpox inoculations were made compulsory. This was all done in the midst of a war. The great battle of Gualalajara took place in March. It was an attempt by the Rebels to encircle Madrid. They lost, though in many ways the battle was a stalemate. The Italian troops suffered a particularly ignominious defeat and Mussolini was angry. The Republicans thought that the blatant and obvious use of whole army corps under foreign direction would have some effect on the famous non-intervention committee. It did not. The rest of the conflict is long, sad, dreary, and noble. Towards the end the Russians began to withdraw their help. It became clear that Stalin would eventually send no more help and the Communists' influence began to wain. Caballero was replaced by Juan Negrin, a man of enormous appetites and abilities. The foreign powers sent him no help, while the Germans in the last year of the war sent increasing material to Franco. The Basques fell in 1937. The Republic still mounted offensives of surprising gallantry and strength. The Republic was cut in two on the Aragon front,. however, and after that Barcelona, that 21 �The College great and pulsing revolutionary city, was taken. Hundreds of thousands of refugees fled to the borders of France knowing they could expect no quarter from the Rebels. Their situation in France was lamentable. Madrid fell inevitably not long after amid scenes of enormous confusion. Finally it was some generals on the Republican side who surrendered. Franco telegraphed to Neville Chamberlain on February 22, 1939, assuring him that his patriotism, his honour as a gentlema·n, and his generosity were the finest guarantees of a just peace. He later said that reprisals were alien to the Nationalist movement. Britain soon afforded him recognition, as did France which quickly sent General Petain as its ambassador. If we turn back briefly to our original list of parties and movements we can now sum up various things. On the side of the left the great workers parties, the Socialists and the Anarchists, took over the reigns of power and effected a revolution. They could never agree and the Communists became the only efficient, organizing group. Towards the end, a moderate man, Negrin, took over the reins and of necessitv worked with the Communists. The liberal and enlighter{ed men of the Republic seemed unable to do anything, though Azana remained as president to the end. Efficiency was needed and it was bought at the expense of the revolution, which if carried out in any degree as far as land' rights and collectivization might have strengthened the Republic. On the other side the various parties were all reduced to impotence and at the end there was only a bureaucracy of greatest corruption and inefficiency but guided by a shrewd man. Neither the old orders of the Carlists nor the new orders of the Fascists were given any more than lip-service. Throughout the war· on both sides every visitor noted a hatred of foreign ideas. Both the Anarchists and the Church spoke the language of Faith. The Anarchists spoke of it as a living force of humanity and the Church spoke of it in the dead language of convention. The sincerity exhibited and the passionate blood spilt were done so by all in the name of Spain. Soon many people sacrificed reality to an idea-but the idea seemed to them part of their blood. In the end the mask of reality and the present fact of power conquered. The Communists perhaps understood too well that the revolution had nothing to do with progress or materialistic theory. The Falange never could institute itself on the basis of modern totalitarian progress. Such ideas were rejected as anathema and heresy. There were civil wars within the civil war on both sides as a result. The country wished to be what it was and is, antitechnical, anti-progress and the evils of progress. It wished to retain honour, individua1itv, and communitv in its essential meaning. . · I shall quote from a speech given by President Azana at the height of the war. \Vhen the torch passes to other hands, to other 22 men, to other generations, let them remember if ever they feel their blood boil and the Spanisl; temper 15 once more. mfunated w1th intolerance, hatred, and destructiOn, let them think of the dead, and listen to their lesson: the lesson of those who have bravely fallen in battle generously fighting for a great ideal, and wh~ now protected by their maternal soil, feel no hat~ or rancor, and who send us, with the sparklinv of their light, tranquil and remote as a star. th~ message of the eternal Fatherland which sa 1·s to all its sons: Peace, Pity, and Pardon. ' If Franco had made any kind of wise and merciful me of his victory a war-weary country vwuld well han.: ken behind him. He did not. His entry into Madrid was tilt signal for what can only be called a stupendous pruscrip tion. At least a million men and women were hc:d,:..J into prison and thousands were executed. The popubtiot> hved for years on the verge of starvation. Spain wa~ forgotten in the bloody years of the greater conflict of the general European war. This foxy and unattracti1·e little man played his cards well and still remains as ruler of Spain. He is building himself one of the biggest and most durable tombs of modern times, carving it at im· mense expense out of the living rock. It, if nothing else. may remain as a memorial to him 1 as he seems to h:t\ e had the fortune to live until the age of eightv, unlon:d, inglorious, and shrewd. No one in Spain gained from this revolution and civil war, not the Church, not the people, not the middle class, and certainh• not the Falange, which is still kept up as a kind of ideological front. to be used as a scapegoat or a shield whenever the Church or the Traditionalists make some abortive mo,·cments. towards action. One wonders if at his death, his grCJt new tomb prepared, Franco will have the grcatnc-,., of Philip the Second, one of his illustrious predecessors in the rule of Spain. Philip's tomb was his own palace. the grey and dreadful Escorial. Towards the end he would be brought down on his cot each day to gaze at the high altar. He had all the crimes of an enormous empire 011 his head and was ulcerous and swollen, rotting with gangrene. Few seemed able to stand the stench. "! lud meant to spare you this scene," he said after partaking of the sacrament, "but I wish you to see how the monardut:l of the earth end." Douglas Allanbrook, a Tutor at St. John's since 1962. r_rc:t'Tl:~-- fC formed his own works "Five Studies in Black and \\ h1te. .:: ; : harpsichord concert in 'Annapolis. A graduate of Ban·ard Ccl;~-.:;~- :.: 1948, he was a Fulbright Fello\\' and a Tra\'eling FelJO\\- of IL~Y.'-:­ Uni\'ersity. From 1955 to 1957 he taught com'position ~mel tk<·· the Peabody Conscr\'atory of J\-1usic. In 1971 he receinxl an :\:.:::-._-:.: E. :t·v1ullikin Tutorship. He recently was elected to th~ t;o:po:::;:~ of Yaddo, an artists-writers colony, Saratoga Springs, i\.\ .. an? · been serving as a member of the adYisory board of the ?-.bryb.nc .\.----:o Council. �1 NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES JOHN GAW MEEM NAMED "HoNORARY FELLOW" i St. John's College and the citizens of New Mexico paid special tribute in ~ebruary to John Caw Meem, a member of the Board of Visitors and GO\·ernors. The veteran architect was a Santa Fe leader in the local effort to persuade St. John's to establish its western campus there, and he and his wife donated 225 acres for the campus in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo l'v!ountains. The round of salutes began Friday, February 18th, at the Board meeting in Santa Fe, when President Weigle announced that the Faculty and Board had voted to appoint Meem an Honorary Fellow. Only three other persons have received this honor from the College-Mark Van Doren, Paul Mellon, and Richard F. Cleveland. Governor Bruce King proclaimed Sunday, February 20th, as "John Caw !v!eem Day" in the state in appreciation for his successful efforts to conserve and promote New Mexico's unique Spanish-Pueblo style of architecture during the past 50 years. A public reception was held that Sunday to honor Mr. and Mrs. Meem and to open the College's exhibition of "A Selection of Churches and Public Buildings by John Caw Meem, Architect." Hundreds of his friends came to express their affection and respect and to see the display of photographs and drawings. At the reception, the Co\'ernor's proclamation was presented to ~If. Meem bv Mrs. Louise Trigg l\lcKinney, a member of the St. John's Board and also chairman of the :-\c11' .\!exico Commission on the Arts. Finally, the minister and parish council of the Cristo Rey Catholic Church gave him a certificate of appreciation for his designing of their monumental adobe edifice. They also delighted the life-long Episcopalian by naming him a "perpetual honorary member" of the parish. The citation appointing Mr. Meem as an Honorary Fellow of St. John's cited "his understanding of and his devotion to the liberal arts, his commitment to the active participation in the program of liberal education at St. John's College, and his personal achievement and special distinction in his chosen profession of architecture and in his avocation of service to his feHow citizens.n John Gaw Meem LAURA GILPIN BoARD TO INCREASE MEMBERSHIP The Board of Visitors and Governors voted at its February meeting in Santa Fe to amend its Charter and the Polity to enlarge its membership from 40 to 48. The purpose of the larger body is to provide for a wider geographical representation and to strengthen attendance at the quarterly meetings of the Board. The President, the Provost, the Deans, and the Governors of Maryland and New Mexico will continue to serve as ex officio members. Of the r"maining 42 members, 36 shall be elected by the entire Board (instead of 28 as at present) and six shall be elected by the Alumni of the College. The Board also voted to raise total student fees for tuition, room and board in 1972-73 to $3,900 to keep in line with increasing costs of educa~ tion and administration. The current annual total fee is $3,600. It was noted that St. John's designates a sizable share of its budget to student aid. The next meeting of the Board will be May 12-13 in Annapolis. ST. JOHN'S HOLDS SEMINARS FOR Los ANGELES DOCTORS \Vhen a group of Los Angeles doctors decided thev would like to start a series of "great 'books" seminars, they sent to St. John's in Santa Fe for mmeone to lead them. Tutors Samuel E. Brown and Robert II. Neidorf flew to the west coast January 21st with airline tickets pro·:ided by the host group. In three days they met in four seminars to explore some of the ideas found in Sophocles' Anti- 23 �The College gone, 1\fachiavelli's The Prince and Discourses, De Tocqueville's Democracy in America and the American Declaration of Independence. The "students" included six doctors, a dentist and an attorney. · Mr. Neidorf also is director of the College's summer Graduate Institute in Liberal Education, which offers an advanced curriculum centered on readings in books which have helped to shape \\!estern civilization. One of last year's Institute students was Dr. Norman Levan, a department chairman with the Universitv of Southern California Medical School at Los Angeles. It was Levan's enthusiasm for St. John's and its seminar approach to learning which prompted his friends in the professions to become interested in having their own seminars with teachers from· St. John's. NEW INFIRMARY IN ANNAPOLIS St. John's in Annapolis is constructing Harrison Health Center, a new infirmary, on the north side of the campus near King George Street, be- Floors will be of sheet vinyl, ceramic tiles, brick, and carpeting. There will be painted walls and ceilings. Structural consultants are Greene and Seaquist, Engineers; mechanical and electrical consultant is Wallace S. Lippincott, F .E.; landscape architect is John F. Gutting, Jr.; and general contractors are Stehle, Beans, and Bean. Plans for the Harrison Health Center were approved by the Annapolis Historic District Commission on December 22nd. The building replaces Pinkney House, the College's former infirmarv, purchased by the State of 1\Iar\'land. Tl1e new structure is the gift of Mrs. John T. Harrison of Green Farms, Connecticut, in memory of her late husband, a St. John's College alumnus of the Class of 1907. Projected completion date is midsummer. An artist's rendition of the exterior appears on the back cover. A drawing of the interior appears below. ~ ' The two-story building was designed ~ . by James \Vood Burch and \Vrlharn ~ · H. Kirby, Jr., Associated Architects, to ~ : blend harmomously wrth the Barnster · House. TI1e slate roof will be steeply pitched, similarly to the Barrister House roof. The building will be m the shape of a Greek cross, giving maximum space of 4500 square feet without overpowering the elegant proportions of the Barrister House. The exterior walls will be of Oxford handmolded brick made bv Alwine Brick Company of Hanover, Pennsy~vania. The interior will house an mfirmary with isol:ltion ward and small kitchen on the first Aoor, and nurse's quarters and a focult)· apartment on the second Aoor. These apartments will each have a Jiving-dining room combination, two bedrooms, a bath and kitchen. 24 Mr. J. Anthony Moran, Washington attorney, was elected a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College at its December 4th meeting in Santa Fe. Mr. Moran received LL.B., LL.M., and J.D. degrees from the George \Vashington University School of Law and an honorary Doctor of Laws degree from Alliance College in Pennsylvania. He has been admitted to practice before the U.S. Supreme Court; the U.S. Court of Appeals, District of Columbia Circuit; the Maryland Court of Appeals; and the U.S .. District Court, District of Columbia. He formerly served as legal and legislative consultant to various federal agencies, departments and cm;nmissions, and Congressional commrttees. From 1960 to 1964 he was Consultant and Special Advisor to President L\11don B. Johnson and Mrs. Johnson. The interior of the nurse's quarters and the faculty apart:nent in the newJfarrison Health Center in Annapolis will have a liVing-dining room combmahon, cathedral ce1lmg, and a fireplace. tween the historic Charles Carroll . Barrister House and Randall Hall, the ::, ;· · College's dining facility and dormi- 0 f . tory. WASHINGTON LAWYER ELECTED.TO BoARD �April 1972 From 1966 to 1968 he served as Special Advisor to Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey. Mr. Moran is presently engaged in private practice in \Vashington, D.C., Maryland, and Pennsylvania. He is a member of the District of Columbia Bar Association and the American Bar Association, the Delta Theta Phi Legal Fraternity, and the \Vashington Board of Trade: He is the author of several papers, most recently an article entitled "Legislative Counsel: His \Vashington Role" which appeared in the New York Law Journal. SANTA FE LIBRARY AssociATES DONATE BoOKS AND RECORDINGS The Library Associates Committee of St. John's in Santa Fe has donated 99 volumes of books and a collection of recordings of classic French drama to the College Library. These library gifts were made possible by receipts from the four Book and Author Luncheons sponsored by the committee last year. The committee gift included 14 volumes of Medieval Science Series, 16 volumes The Complete Works of Henry Fielding; 26 volumes Hegel's Samtliche \Verke, 15 volumes The Art of Mankind, 17 volumes The International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, 11 volumes Tudor Church Music, and a collection of classic French drama recorded bv Le Theatre National Populaire and La Comedie Fran(:aise. · The 1972 spring series of programs will be held this vear on April 14th and May 12th. Two SENIORS WIN WATSON FELLOWSHIPS The College recently learned it has two winners of the coveted Thomas ) . Watson Fellowships for 1972-1973. In Annapolis Miss Christel Stevens, daughter of Mrs. Walli Stevens of University Park, Maryland, and in Santa Fe Jonathan David Krane, son of Mr. and Mrs. james Krane of Los Angeles, California, were each the recipient of $6,000 awards. The Fellowship program enables college graduates of unusual promise to engage in an initial postgraduate year of independent study and travel abroad. TI1e Foundation is most concerned with such qualities as integrity, creativity, leadership capacitv, and potential for humane and effective involvement in the world community. Seventy Fellows were designated for the forthcoming year from among 140 ontstanding candidates nominated. The participating colleges and universities had previously made their nominations from approximately 1200 seniors. The two students applied for the Watson Fellowships by writing a letter to the St. John's College Instruction Committee, explaining their plans for the awards if received. After Committee approval, they applied to the Foundation and were interviewed at the College during December. The awards were announced March 15th. Miss Stevens intends to study Indian classical dance at Kalakshetra Uni· versity of Fine Arts in Madras, India. Sbe has been studying this dance, a combination of drama and dance, at the College with a modern dance group, and for two summers in New for travel in England, France, and Spain, investigating by observation and interviews the legal systems of those countries, studying their ideals and realities, and comparing their differences. After his travels he hopes to enter law school. Mr. Krane was the 1971 winner of the Duane L. Peterson Scholarship. ST. JOHN'S APPOINTS NEW DEVELOPMENT OFFICER IN ANNAPOLIS Mr. Russell Edwin Leavenworth has been appointed Director of Development at the Annapolis campus. His appointment, effective last January ]st. was approved by the College's Board of Visitors and Governors at its December 4th meeting in Santa Fe. Mr. Leavenworth had been serving as Associate Director of Development in Annapolis since july. He has filled a position that was vacated by Mr. Julius Rosenberg, Class of 1938, who has become affiliated with the Associated ) ewish Charities and Welfare Fund, Inc., in Baltimore. Mr. Rosen· berg had been a member of the College staff since September I 968. He will remain with St. John's as a consultant and will return to serve on the Board of Directors of the Alumni Association. A native of Oak P'ark, Illinois, Ilk Leavenworth was formerly a professor at Fresno State College in California. where he was Chairman of the English Department and Assistant to the Dean of the Scbool of Arts and Sciences. In addition he was a member of the library, curriculum, graduate, campus planning, college reorganization, and York City with Miss Georgia Cushhigher education committees at Fresno man. She has been a member of the State. LBJ SENDS AUTOGRAPHED Delegate Council, and co-chairman in BOOK TO LIBRARY l\1r. Leavenworth served as a lieu1970 and chairman in 1971 of Reality, The Libran• in Santa Fe has received a spring weekend at the College. She tenant with the U.S. Army Infantnan autographed copy of former Presi- has been director of the Smdicate of from 1942 to 1946 in Europe. A gradudent Lyndon B. Johnson's book, The B<JCchus, an orga-nization 'responsible ate of Hanover College in 1947, he \ 'Jntagc Point. SJnta Fe businessman for College social activ·ities, and has received his !11.A. and Ph.D. degree' A. J. Tom• Taylor, brother of Lady performed in and directed seyeral dra- from the University of Colorado. H.has taught at the University of Cole~ Bird Johnson, is chairman of the St.· matic productions in Annapolis. f\1r. Krane is interested in interna- rado, at Texas A&l\1 Universitv, anC John's College Board of Associates in · tional law and plans to use his grant at Trinity University. Santa Fe. �The College Among his publications are Interpreting Hamlet (Chandler, 1960), Poems from Six Centunes (Chandler, 1962), "The English Poets" in College and Adult Reading List (Washmgton Square Press, 1962), and Logic for Argument (Random House, 1968). He is married to the former Ann Millis of Carmel, California, who is a graduate of Swarthmore, the University of California at Berkeley, and the University of Colorado. J\frs. Leave?worth received her master s degree m public administration. and her doctorate in Amencan history. She was elected to two four-year terms on the Fresno City School Board and served one term as its president. The Leavenworths have three children: Natalie, a sophomore at St. John's in Santa Fe; Jean, a sophomore at The Key School; and Stuart, a sixth-grader at The Key School. PHOTO CoNTEST IN ANNAPOLIS The Admissions and Public Information Offices on the Annapolis campus of the College have been spon, soring a photography contest. Phase I of the contest has been completed; winning photographs were exhibited the last week of February in the Key Memorial Hall. The judges awarded prizes in . five categories-students, faculty, bmldmgs, activities and functions, and miscellanE:ous. Phase I winners were students Charles Post Phil Rosenberg, Deborah Ross, and L~e Z!otoff, and Chris Sparrow, son of Edward Sparrow, Tutor. The contest is open to all members of the St. John's College community in Annapolis. Prizes are: first, $50; second, $25; third, $10; and honorable mention. The judges are Stanley Stearns, ]\•brian \Varren, and Stuart \Vhelan noted photographers in Annapolis. Phase II of the contest is now in progress. Awards will he n:ade in May with an exhibit of the wmners to be held near the end of the school year. 26 CAMPUS NoTES reviewed C. F. Snow's book, Public Douglas Allanbrook, Tutor in Annapolis, has been serving on the advisory board of the Maryland Arts Council for the past two years. In addition he was recently elected to the Corporation of Yaddo, a writersartists colony in Saratoga Springs, New York. He presented a premiere perform· ance of his own works entitled "Five Studies in Black and White" during a harpsichord concert at the College in Annapolis on January 14th. "The Lecture Method in Mathematics: A Student's View" by Michael \V. Ham, Director of Admissions and Tutor in Annapolis, has been accepted for publication within the year by the American Mathematics Monthly. Edwin Hopkins, Tutor in Annapolis, expects to receive his Ph.D .. degree ~n philosophy from Duke Umvemty m June. Matthew Mallory, an Annapolis senior, has filed as a Republican candidate for delegate from the newly created fourth district in Maryland to the national convention in San Diego in August. The primary will be held May 16th. Santa Fe Tutor Harvey Mead received his Ph.D. degree in December from L'Universite Laval in Quebec. His thesis, "The Middle Science ~f Astronomy," was a study of Ptolemy s methodology within the context of the Aristotelian philosophy of science. Paul D. Newland, Provost in Annapolis, recently addressed a meeting of the Annapolis chapter of the Military Order of World Wars at the Officers' Club at the U.S. Naval Academy. Beverly Ross, Registrar for the Graduate Institute in Liberal EducatiOn at Santa Fe, is teaching an adult education class on writing feature articles at the College of Santa Fe. \ViJJiam K vle Smith, Tutor Emeritus in Annapolis, obtained a Th.h1. degree from Princeton Theological Seminan• in 1971. Robe;t L. Spaeth, Annapolis Tutor, Affairs, in a new magazine, Perspective, subtitled "Weekly Reviews of New Books on Government, Politics, and International Affairs." In his role as an alderman of the City of Annapolis, Mr. Spaeth spoke at the Greater Annapolis Kiwanis Club meeting on the city-county tax differential. His speech was reproduced. m the city's daily newspaper, the Evenmg Capital. Richard D. Weigle, President, attended the Education Symposium at the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library at The University of Texas at Austm January 24-25 at which time. the 250,000 papers on educatiOn wntten during the Johnson administration were made public. Former President and Mrs. Johnson participated in the twoday series of meetings on "Educa~mg a Nation: The Changmg Amencan Commitment." About 300 educators from "throughout the country attended the sessions. Mr. Weigle spoke on the Colleg.e and its curriculum as well as about his recent trip to Africa, Russia, and England at a meeting of the Naval Academy \Vomen's Club on February 1st. STUDENTS TRAIN FOR RESCUE OPERATIONS St. John's College boasts one of the few college search and rescue umts m the country. Fifteen students on the Santa Fe campus train for and take part in search operations for people lost in the vast wilderness areas of New Mexico. The group, under the guidance of Herb Kincey, a Santa Fe busmessman, is one of three units which make up the New Mexico Search and Rescue Association. James Carr, business manager on the Santa Fe campus, is the current president of N.M.S.A.R. and was the College unit advisor hefore being elected to his present positiOn. The St. John's unit meets for traming sessions once a \Vee~ and takes an excursion into nearby wt1derness areas almost every weekend. Since the be- �April ginning of the current academic year, the group has been mobilized for searches eight times. SANTA FE ENJOYS WINTER MuSIC SEASON peting Principles in Music." During that same month, Tutor Charles G. Bell gave Part II of his illustrated lecture on "The Gothic Arts,'' which included the use of recordings. The final event before spring vacation \vas Henry Schuman's visit the first week in March, climaxed by an informal evening of chamber music on the 3rd. Mr. Schuman, founder and director of Our Bach Concerts in New York, spent several days at Santa Fe working with the orchestra and smaller ensembles. The winter music season at St. John's in Santa Fe offered a variety of concert opportunities for the College community. It started with the St. John's Chamber Orchestra's 275th Anniversary Concert on December 4th and continued through March 3rd with a special program with New York oboist Henrv Schuman. ST. JOHN'S FENCER WINS · Neither s~ow nor cold could keep STATE CHAMPIONSHIP Santa Fe music lovers from the AnniEdith "Kit" Callender, a Santa Fe versary Concert, which featured Tutor junior, won the Women's Fencing Samu-el E. Brown as guest conductor Championship of New Mexico in and conductor Richard Stark as piano February. Freshman Frank Skee placed soloist. The program by the musical second in the Men's Under-19 Foil group included Beethoven's "Overture Competition, and sophomore Roberta to the Ballet 'Prometheus,' Op. 43"; Faulhaber and freshman Jonathan Haydn's "Symphony in D Major, No. Teague won third prize in the women's 104," and Mozart's "Piano Concerto and men's sections respectively of the in E flat Major, K 271." championship fencing tournament On Sunday afternoon, December held in Farmington, New Mexico. 12th, mezzo-soprano Mary Neidorf Their coach is Istvan Fehervary, Di(wife of Tutor Robert A. Neidorf) rector of Student Activities. and pianist Gillian 1\-lcHugh of Santa Fe presented an exciting program of FEBRUARY FRESHMAN CLASS piano classics and vocal numbers rang- IN ANNAPOLIS ing from American folk songs and A February Freshman Class of 21 Germ~m lieder to two compositions began on the Annapolis campus on by Annapolis Tutor Elliott Zucker- Friday, January 28th. There were man. Mr. Zuckerman carne to Santa eleven men and ten women. They Fe in January to present a lecture "On came from Illinois, Maryland, Massaa Measure in Mozart" on the 21st and chusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, a week later another Annapolis Tutor, New York, Ohio, Tennessee, and _Douglas Allan brook, gave a harpsi- Texas. One was a Vietnam veteran. chord concert, including his own comFour students were early entrants, position "Five Studies in Black ·and corning to St. John's before graduating White." from high school. Ten had attended The February calendar of musical colleges elsewhere-including Antioch, events included the Pomona College Bennington, Carleton, Harvard, and Glee Club on Saturday evening the Shimer Colleges. Two students were National Merit 5th; the Colorado Academy Chorus after lunch on the lOth and a Sundav Scholars, two were Finalists, and one afternoon program of Beethoven b)• received a letter of commendation. Jack Brimbcrg of Locust ValleY, New Sixty percent of the incoming class York, on the 13th. The Fridav e1-ening were in the top fifth of their high lecture on February 18th continued school class. the theme with Robert Parr, former TI1e February Freshman Class is Santa Fe Tutor, speaking on "Com- designed to permit students to com- 1972 plete their college education within a four-year period. The 'llew St. Johnnies will take their first semester of the curriculum during the spring, and finish their Freshman year during the summer. This enables them to join the Sophomore Class on an equal status and to graduate a year earlier than if they had waited until the fall semester of 1972 before coming to St. John's. COLLEGE NAMES DoRMS TO HoNOR WESTERN BENEFACTORS The Board of Visitors and Governors has voted to name several of the student houses in Santa Fe in honor of New Mexico and Texas benefactors: New Mexico-Mr. Robert 0. Anderson, Roswell; Mr. Donald R. Kirby, Albuquerque; and Mrs. Margaret W. Driscoll, Mr. and Mrs. Oscar B. Huffman, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall McCune, Mr. Robert M. McKinney, Mr. and Mrs. John Caw Meern, a'lld Mrs. Sallie Wagner, Santa Fe area. Texas-Bishop and Mrs. Everett H. Jones, San Antonio; and Mr. John D. Murchison and Mr. Clinton Murchison, Jr., Dallas. loLA R. ScoFIELD lola R. Scofield, Tutor Emeritus in Annapolis, died on Monday, March 27th. . A native of California, Mrs. Scofield held degrees from the University of California at Berkeley, \vhere she was an instructor in Eng· !ish and assistant in philosophy. She taught at New York University and at the University College of The University of Chicago before becoming a Tutor at St. John's College in 1954. Her dominant characteristic as a teacher was her devotion to the individual student in her classes. She was always ready to devote her time and her energy to helping a student with a problem or question which he confronted. A service in Mrs. Scofield's memory is being planned in Annapolis for a date in April. 27 i .____ �ALUMNI ACTIVITIES A CALL FOR ALUMNI SuPPORT By the end of January, as Chairman Jack L. Carr's appeal letter went out, the Alumni Annual Giving Campaign was already 38% toward its goal. This running start is due in large measure to an unrestricted bequest which we applied to operating needs. Each day's mail brings more gifts, and this could be a banner year for alumni giving of all sorts. But it will not be unless more of us take a truly realistic view of our responsibilities to St. John's. The expression "give 'til it hurts" has been vastly overworked, to be sure, but that is really what Mr. Weigle was asking in his letter of last November. You are being asked to give more money this year than you think you can afford. An average gift of $32, which is what we achieved last year, should be compared wtih the all-college national average of $75. While any gift is always welcome, we must come closer to the national average if St. John's alumni contributions are to make a real impact on the needs of the College. class-1912, 1922, 1932, 1942, 1947, 1952, 1962, or 1967-then you have even more reason for planning now for a short autumn vacation in Annapolis. The 1972 Homecoming Committee, under the energetic leadership of Julius Rosenberg '38, started planning in January. The Committee's capacity for hard work is exceeded only by its ingenuity, so Homecoming weekend promises to be a memorable one. See you there. CHAPTER NEWS The regular Tuesday luncheon gathering of downtown Baltimore alumni has a new meeting place. The TwoOh-Three Restaurant, 203 Davis Street (just north of the Post Office and east of the Court Square Building) is the new location. If you like tall stories, jokes a la Alexander, or just good fellowship, then join the gang at the 203. WHAT's IN A NAME? "Over my dead body!" "How about Scott Buchanan College?" ''Never!'' HoMECOMING 1972 Do you like to drink beer to the accompaniment of rag-time jazz? Do you enjoy stimulating discussion? Would vou like to see football return to the back campus? Are you willing to counsel with students about what they might expect in graduate schools? Or do you delight simply in seeing old friends and making new ones? If your answer to one or more o_f the ~bove is "yes," then you really should plan to come to Annapolis on October 13 and 14. That's Homecoming time, and the activities listed are just a few of those planned for that \veekend. And if yours is a reunion 28 "If you have to change, I suggest King William's College." Several months ago an alumnus suggested ·that, since St. John's is often confused with church-related colleges and those with prominent basketball teams, the task of admissions workers and fund raisers might be easier if the College were to change its name. A committee of Visitors and Governors was appointed to study the proposal; a recent questionnaire to all a] umni has elicited the responses which appear above. And reactions continue to pour in, piling up evidence for the committee to study. It would be improper to reveal the trend of the responses, other than to saj• that they are both for and against: St. Johnnies have very firm opinions on any question. \Ve a\vait with in· terest the action by the Board of Visitors and Governors in May. CLASS NOTES 1904 Randall C. Cronin and his wife celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary a year ago in January. Our thanks to E. Earl Hearn '06 for this information, and our belated congratulations to the happy couple. 1926 \V. Dorsey Hines of Chestertown, Maryland, was appointed last October to a four-year term as a member of the advisory board of the Department of Natural Resources of Maryland. 1928 Louis L. Snyder is the author of two more books published last fall, The Dreyfus Affair, a Focus Book (Franklin \Vatts, New York) and Great Turning Points in History (Van Nostrand-Reinhold, New York). ProfesSor Snyder was invited in December by the Alexander \'On Humboldt Foundation of the Bonn Government to be its guest on a two-month tour of German universities throughout the Federal Republic. · . 1929 Frank Katz, son of Francis A. Katz, had a one-man exhibit of oil paintings, drawings, and sculptures at the College during February. 1932 fames F. Campbell in September was named Assistant Administrator for Administration of the Agency for International Development. Mr. Campbell joined AID in April of last year after 3 5 years with Esso affiliates of the Standard Oil Company of New Jersey. His last position \VaS as chairman and managing director of Esso Standard of South Africa. 1943 As a follow·up of the report last July about the fire at Ogden Kellogg-Smith's Bay Country School, we can report that 1v1r. Kellogg·Smith has embarked on a new \·entUJe, the Bay Countrv Institute. He seeks to train students as \\"at~r pollution monitors, to meet a need created bv federal and state en\"ironmenta1 legislation. J\1r. Kellogg-Smith has applied for a �April 1972 federal grant, and plans to start training stu· dents at three public high schools and the Baltimore Experimental High SchooL Ed\\'ard H. Grubb in December sent a long and \U)' welcome letter, bringing us up to date on his life. The high points are: he mar· ried in December, 1969, after "many years of living alone and not liking it particularly," to a girl he met in Alaska. He and wife Cynthia haw: a rcd·headed daughter Debby, whose beauty is C\'ident from her picture. lvfr. Grubb owns and operates T11e h·1ountain Shop i; dO\\lltown San Francisco, catering to back packers, rock climbers, and ski tourers. 1944 In helping us locate "lost" alumni, Vernon E. Derr writes that Henry R. Freeman liJ is making films for \VHA-TV in Madison, \Vis· copsin, an educational tele\·ision station. 1946 Samuel Sheinkman and Florence Marie Peters, a director of dance workshops in New York City, were married on December 31st in that city. Dr. Sheinkman is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst in New York. 1956 Joseph P. Cohen, a Tutor at the College in Annapolis, is spending his sabbatical year as a Yisiting research fe1l0\v at Yale Law School. 1961 Annapolis Admissions Director Michael \V. Ham is teaching a section of freshman mathematics, Euclid and Ptolemy, this semester. Mr. Ham says that the experience is most interesting and challenging, especially since some of the students in the tutorial were "signed up" by him. Stephen Morrow sent us a new address for Paul ld. Matsushita. The latter li\·es in Tokyo, where he is a professor of l;m· at Sophia University. After leaving St. John's he earned a Ph.D. degree .in jurisprudence from Tulane University, and then a Ph.D. degree in law from Tokyo Uni\'ersity. Both of his dissertations were about anti-trust regulations in the United States, and he is considered a ranking soholar in these matters. David P. Rosenfield visited the Col1ege in Annapolis last fall with his wife. He inforrlled us that he received a B.S. degree from the \Vharton School of Finance after lea\'ing St. John's, and that he is Yery happy working as a carpenter in Miami. Apologies for late congratulations to J\1ary (Horton) Sagos and husband Christ '59 on the birth of Master Adam Sagos last August 13th. 1964 Peter H. Crippen, \';ho works for the Agency for International De\·clopment. h:1s been transferred from C:;hhar to Enugu in Nigeria. A December news release from l'vforavian Coljege, Bethlehem. Pennsyh·ania. announces that Dcnuis G. Clew has been promoted from instructor to assistant professor of history and classics. Mr. Clew earned an M.A. degree in 1966 and a Ph.D. degree in 1971 from Princeton University. At Moravian he is a member of both the history and foreign language departments. 1965 A note from Tlwmas G. Eaton reveals that he will complete his course requirements for a doctorate in American histol)' this year. He is studying at the State University of New York at Albany. His wife, Florence (Campbell) Eaton '64, has received her master's degree in English literature. 1966 James R. Mensch, who studied at the Pan· tifical Institute of Medieval Studies, Toronto, after St. John's, is now a doctoral candidate in philosophy and theology at the University of Toronto. He is currentlv liYing in Inns. bruck, Germany, working a~ his dissertation. chusetts continues to go wdl. Last semester he taught "a sort of b:!:;i,· introduction.toJitera~u.re course," and is now tc~1ching Chinese Myshc1sm and Modern Eumpcan literature. Mr. Dean hopes to study ;1hroad again this summer, either in England or Germany. 197! Jane Sarah Goldwin and Don Bandler in January announced plans to he married in Paris on March 24th. TI1e bride's mother and father (Robert A. Goldwin '50 dean in Annapolis) planned to attend. ' Da~iel Sullivan .is apparently doing very well m h1s work Wlth a Toronto Canada advertising agenc~, according to 'Annapoli~ Tutor Harry Goldm~. l\Ir. Sulli\'an successfully ~anaged the ~edectwn c::nnpaign of the Min" ISter for Tour1sm of Canada, ;lllcl is co-founding a space institute in Iceland. r· 1967 B. l'vleredith Burke graciously sent a long letter to help offset the "paucity of news in the last alumni bulletin." \Ve are pleased to -·-19/-DR. RoBERT V. lloFFr...v..N Carmel, Cal., January 2, 1972. · ' learn that she has earned an M.A. degree from the University of Southern California. She .-- 1~EMERSON T. 1-I.\RRlNGTON, JR., taught economics last year at Southern CaliCambrid~e, Md., January 17, 19i2. fornia, and is now in Cambridge, Massachu- -- 1910":._J_ IRVIN HEISE, Bethesda, Md., setts, planning to teach in a local community Jam&ry 1 1972. college this spring. Ms. Burke is thoroughly committed to the work of the National Or__ . A. LoNGAN, New York ganization for \V omen, and hopes to resume City, January 20, 1972. work on her Ph.D. degree next fall. -·- 1 FRANCis R. DicE Pikes. J\.fichael S. Feinberg informs us that he is ville, MyJanuary 15, 1972. ' now out of the Army and is a full-time premedical student at New York University. -f--.- 19~LEvr H. DICE, S:1tellite Beach, Fla., January 15, 1972. 1968 1--- lp.26~JACK R. Fours, Tmcumbia, Ala., Rebecca (McClure) Albury, in writing to Decem~r 3, 1971. t\'liss Strange during the winter, remarked, ''In addition to producing two daughters since -t-"- 19£9-CARL F. lY.wSoN, Drexel Hill, leaving St. John's, I receiYed a B.S. degree Pa., A~t 23, 1971. from The Hopkins last June." She is the wife .;;:_l?J"1-\VtLBUR R. DULIN, Annapolis of \\lilliam Randall Albury, a doctoral candiMd., March 14, 1972. ' date in the history of science, also at The Johns Hopkins University. H. MooHJ·:, Baltimore, Luther BJackiston completed his work at the Md., March 11, 1972. University of Maryland Law School in Janu. 193~CLARENCE K. ANDERSON Salerno ary, and planned to take the Mal)'land Bar Fla.~' / ' ' examination in Febrllal)', Concurrently, he was working full-time as a law clerk in the Balti19?[-!?R. L. DAviD Fusco, Phoenix, Ariz./ rember 13, 1971. more Legal Aid Bureau's Prison Project, thus fulfilling, he writes, "the dual purpose of 19}>-COL. JAJ\fES L. ll.\YS Phoenix, meeting my CiYilian Alternate Service obligat<-·1d.~ December 11, 1971. ' tion and of making the world safe for 'crim1938-THEODORE \ \' ILU.U,IS, Baltimore, inals'." Md.;' December 3, 1971. Donald and Marilynne (Wills) Schell (SF) are now li,·ing in Lake Charles, Louisiana, 19QJ~ELLIOTT A. Rosn,nn·:RG Los Anwhere 1V1r. Schell is working at the Episcopal geles," Cal., February 8, 197::. ' Church of the Good Shepherd. Mrs. Schell Our most sincere apologies !u the parents \nitcs that their daughter, Sasha, was t\\'O in of the lole Stuart R. Dc;JIJt'r SF '71 for February. misspelling their son's ll:ttnc in the In 1970 lv1emoriam column of the 1'\w·mber issue. John R. Dean \\"rites that his work in com. parati\·e literature at the Unircrsity of ~lassJ- In Memoriam 19~AMES ~~CoL. l?~ALBERT �Harrison Health Center St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland The College St. John's College Annapolis, l\1aryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. - � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 28 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1972 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1972-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Wyatt, Malcolm Felter, Mary P. Parran,Jr., Thomas Trimmer, Maurice Allanbrook, Douglas Description An account of the resource Volume XXIV, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1972. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_24_No_1_1972 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/6358529c585adaa03797667c68e8eae5.pdf b7d8f26494f849fdffb10c3a026fd510 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico July 1972 �The College Cover: Thomas Mann by Alfred A. Knopf. Courtesy of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Editor: Malcolm Wyatt Alumni Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Production: Jeffrey Sinks The College is published by the Development Offices of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. Richard D. Weigle, President. Published four times a year in Jan· uary, April, July, and October. Second-class postage paid at Anna· polis, Maryland, and at other mailing offices. Vol. XXIV July 1972 No.2 In the July Issue The Venetian Phaedrus, by Eva Brann Old Wars, by Robert Neidorf ................ 10 (The Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1972) lola Scofield, A Memorial, by John Keiffer . . . . . 14 News on the Campuses ..................... 1 6 Alumni Activities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 9 �The Venetian Phaedrus By EVA BRANN F OR the next hour I am going to lecture on a work largely autobiographical, whose hero is a charlatan and whose author is therefore the same. This is not my own but the author's opmwn of himself. My lecture will therefore be an inquiry into the nature of the essential charlatan-an enterprise in the spirit and tradition of Plato's Ion. The work I shall deal with is a short no¥el, a novella, by Thomas Mann, called "Death in Venice," or, more accurately, "The Death in Venice," that is to say, "The Death Appropriate to Venice." Mann considered this novella in certain respects his most successful work, a crystallization of all the elements of his artistry. Having begun in so deprecating a manner, I ought first to give reasons why this work is worth close study. The first and general reason lies in Mann's command of words. Let me make a large claim for him: just as, perplexed by some event in one's life, say the advent of friendship, one might go to a classical writer for help in mastering the matter, so, when overwhelmed by certain subtle and complex experiences of civilized modernity, one might read Mann in order to gain an apt and precise language, a language with which to delineate and fix such experiences. This descriptive use of words-"eros in the word" in Nlann's phrase-this courting of things in language, seems to m.e to be Mann's primary excellence. Second, and more particularly with respect to Death in Venice, there is the enormous compositional care that has gone into the work. If music can be described as the art without accidents, D·eatb in Venice is a musical work, a work without unabsorbed events and devoid of episodes. It is even analogous to a musical composition in a more exact way, since it has movements, alternating adagios and scherzi, as well as recurrences and resmp.ptions of themes and motifs. But more of this later. X third, and peculiarly, Death in Venice seems to be absorbingly interesting because it is a timely work. It begins by giving its own season, year and century, or rather, the exact year is left blank so as to exercise the .reader's knowledge of contemporary circumstances. The year, which is also very close to the year of writing, is in fact 1909, the season, spring. The story is set during one of beginnings of the end of Europe, during one of the Balkan crises preceding the First World War. Mann clearly considers the degenerating political situation as an expression of the contemporary crisis both of the ~<European soul," and the artist's "self," a crisis which he characterizes by the word "decadence." This word was once much used to describe the modern situation, and it's going out of use, is, I think, a sign that the mode it designates has become our second nature" -when a <I �The College preoccupation with the symptoms had ceased to be the poet's prerogative, the mode became public property. In Mann's use, decadence seems to me to be a way of being dependent on one's time; perhaps the very fact of dependence is itself the essential aspect. The dependence consists of this: there is a sickness of, and by reason of, the times which becomes a preoccupation and always amounts to this, that received goods have lost their savor, that there is irritability acnd boredom with the forms of life of the community, a feeling that time must be killed, and a consequent search for relief in the forms of excess or perversion-in short, a permanent sort of crisis. "Deca- dence" has, furthermore, the property that the attempt of those caught up in this condition to overcome it, which attempt might be called "reactionary decadence," nearly always takes the form of a kind of brutality, be it exuberant or mean. The novella is, therefore, timely not merely in the sense of being firmly sited in its own era, but also in the sense of courageously attempting to come to grips with modernity-our own modernity-itself. H AVING given these three reasons, which are really three main facets of Mann's artistry, I must imme- diately say that they are equally the ingredients of his charlatanism-for to be an artist is to be a charlatanso says Plato, so Nietzsche, and so, as we shall see, said Thomas Mann. I shall now proceed to trace out in more detail the manner of Mann's artistry as it appears in the novella. Death in Venice is, in Mann's term, a "pregnant" work-it was to achieve this pregnancy that he gave it the compact novella form. It is a work fraught with meaning, and this burden takes a peculiar form, the form o1' references. It is a novella of reference and reminiscence which fairly incites the reader to a scholarly hunt through the European tradition. These references belong to a number of separately discernible spheres, whose elements are mingled but not blended. I shall proceed to give a very much curtailed review of the chief spheres. There is, first of all, the autobiographical sphere. The writer Gustav von Aschenbach, the chief, and, in a manner of speaking, only character of the novella, has, as we are told ;n an introductory biography in the style of an entry into a poets' Who's Who, a foreign mother and a North German father and has chosen Munich as his residence, all just like Mann himself. In the catalogue of Aschenbach's works there is not one which did not eventually have a counterpart in Mann's writings: the "mighty prose epic on the life of Frederick of Prussia" became an essay called "Frederick and the Great Coalition''; "the novelistic tapestry 'Maja' by name," as well as the story called "A Wretch," later became part of Doctor Faustus; and extensive notes for a-significantly unwritten-essay on "Spirit and Art," a work attributed 2 to Aschenbach and said to have been compared by serious judges with Schiller's essay "On Naive and Sentimental Poetry," are preserved in Mann's notebooks. But of chief importance in the biographical sphere is the inner history of Aschenbach, the crisis in his working life, of which more will be said later, and which, up to the fatal outcome, parallels Mann's own in 1911. Mann once remarked of Goethe's partially autobiographical hero in The Sorrows of Young Werther that it is typical of poets that their heroes die young and they grow old. The limits of the autobiographical element, then, reveal the sober truth that the poet as hero is not quite the poet as poet. A sphere is what might be called the cosmopolitan setting of the novella, whose sign and symbol is a ubiquitous hotel manager with French tails and French tongue, voluble and agile. His realm is the international luxury hotel which is the scene of Aschenbach's secret and catastrophic adventure of the soul, that discreet business organization devoted to the refined care of strangers, with its subdued, anonymous, and yet exclusively intimate atmosphere. Aschenbach is brought to his fatal stay there by a veritable conspiracy of steamers, busses, motor boats, railroads and his own recalcitrant impedimenta: you may remember that he is deflected from his flight from Venice because his luggage is misdirected. Thus the conveniences of modernity, the engines for travSECOND eling, in Mann's phrase, "on the surface of the earth/' in short, progress itself, forms the background of the artist's decline. Mann elsewhere denominates the whole sphere by the-derogatory-word "civilization" and associates it with the West, with France, or better, with the French Revolution, and its rationality, rhetoric, and republicanism. So Aschenbach, in an attempt to regularize and turn into the shallow channels of social intercourse his relatio"n to the boy Tadzio, makes an abortive effort to address a French phrase t9 him. Yet another set of clearly discernible motifs belong to. the sphere of what might be called spiritual topography, that is, the quarters of the earth taken as habitations of the soul. The story begins with a knowledgeable walk through Munich, Mann's city and Wagner's, and the intellectual center of Germany. Aschenbach comes to the Northern cemetery, and in front of the Byzantine funeral chapel, a kind of Northern intimation of the facade of the Venetian St. Mark's, he has a sudden vision of a teeming swamp and tigers, a lustful and luxurious vision of the land whence comes the cholera of which he will die, as well as the stranger god Dionysus. He is incited to take a vacation trip-"not exactly to the tigers," as he puts it to himself-and he chooses to go to the sunny South,' to take a light version of the "Italian Journey" which is a stock experience of heavy-souled Germans. But going south, he ends up in Venice on a day devoid of sun, and Venice is not "Italy" but the entrance depot of the abandoned East, Far and Near, architecturally and �July 1972 atmospherically a European Byzantium. Now Byzantium is a favorite setting for Romantic poets-a latter-day Greece, artful, conspiratorial fraught with memories, decadent. So the coordinates of Mann's spiritual geography are the melancholy North, the decadent South, the lustful East and the rational West. Venice, and from this arises his ultimate anti-political dream of social chaos, in which everything is possible, and which ends in the disappearance of all mankind but himself and the boy. Y another group of references are those centered around the name of Goethe. The imitation of Goethe was a major fact of Mann's life as a writer. The novella which turned into Death in Venice was originally intended to be about the love of the seventy-threeyear-old Goethe for a seventeen-year-old girl, an episode by means of which Mann meant to illustrate the theme of any poet's natural propensity for indignity. Mann later made a notation against the entry in his notebooks about Goethe's affair: "this became Death in Venice." Furthermore Mann read Gaeth's novel The Elective Affinities five times during the writing of the novella, in order to catch its perfect "balance of sensuality and morality." Beyond this there seems at first to be no immediate relation between the two works. But not only the acquisition of a master's style for a novel about a master of prose who had, so it is said of Aschenbach, become a "textbook classic," but a more peculiar feature of The Elective Affinities made it a model for the novella. Goethe's novel is really what in English is called a "Gothic" novel, a novel of deliberately undefinable horror, at once earthily plain and ethereally unspeakable: an innocent child murder, adultery practised between husband and wife, unintentional suicide, high-spirited sadism, and so forth, but all this is delivered in prose so graceful, moderate, and even dainty, that it is scarcely German at all. The language of Death in Venice preserves precisely such a distance from its subject matter and it was for this that Goethe's novel served as model. One more borrowing from Goethe: while prevented from immediate disembarkation in Venice by his luggage, Aschenbach is accosted by an old drunk dandy in a red tie, a pitiful and undignified case of old age; later on, with a wild hope of pleasing the boy, he turns himself into just such a figure (even including the red tie) by submitting to a process of cosmetic rejuvenation. This motif is borrowed from a chapter called "The Man of Fifty Years" in The Apprentice Years of Wilhelm Meister, Goethe's biggest novel. I now come to the .two spheres of reference which are most at the center of the work. ET N a "Protestant" sphere is discermble. Mann once commented on Death in Venice that "the character of the whole is, after all, rather Protestant than antique." In this passage the term "Protestant" has for Mann no particular theological connotation-rather EXT it refers to what is sometimes called an uethos," a circle of moral meanings grouped around the name of Frederick the Great and Pru'5ia. Thus Aschenbach's morality has but one categorical impemtive, "endurance." It is an ethics of the "despite," of achievement despite "sorrow, poverty, loneliness, weakness of body, passion, and a thousand hindrances"; it is a kind of Kantianism of decadence. Its saint is St. Sebastian, dear to Aschenbach, a soldier who displays "grace under torture" (and is, incidentally, the saint of the plague), and its hero is Frederick, a ruler whom Mann sees as a magnificently malicious demon, a be- ing of incredible industry spurred on by a cold and luckless passion. Thus Aschenbach's Fredericianism is a passion for mastery which arises from a "thoroughly pessimistic relation to passion itself." So Aschenbach, born in Schleswig, the province Frederick conquered for Prussia, will fall prey to "the revenge of subjugated feeling." There is a second aspect to what Mann means by "Protestantism," another peculiarly German aspect, for whic~ there is no word in English, except that it is possi- ble Simply to use the German word which can be transcribed as "innerliness." In its context the classical opposition of the public and the private realm is supplanted by that of political and apolitical or "innerly." Rather than to circumscribe the term, let me point out how it is evidenced in the novella, namely by Aschenbach's isolation and essential silence. All the weightiest episodes of the work have a dream-like setting, when awareness of time, the mark of wakefulness, disappears, just as Aschenbach's thoughts at crucial moments are characterized as "dream-logic" and the turning point in Aschenbach's inner catastrophe comes literally by means of a dream, the dream of the invasion of the Indian Dionysus. But dreaming is the activity of isolation and marked by the preponderance of the inner world over the external. Similarly the silence of Aschenbach is indicated by his speaking only to officials, to "personnel," and that in the "Welsh" tongue (a derogatory German term for French), while he more and more talks to himself. German itself disappears from the scene as the plague spreads through Venice and Aschenbach's countrymen leave. Finally he enters into a conspiracy of silence with corrupt Venetian officialdom to keep the fact of the plaque quiet so that the boy without whom he cannot live will remain in T first of these I shall designate "Romanticism." Mann occupied himself much with this term, by which he meant counter-revolution, in particular the revolt of artistry against the baldness of political revolutwn as the primary improving activity, the revolt, m his manner of speaking, of artful music against literate logic, of wordless depth against explanatory rhetoric, of complex mysticism against crude clarity. It means the HE 3 �The College prerogative of passion in its remote pathological forms, and it is essentially submission to, and even a search for, what already is and always was, especially for death. Such romanticism might be called decadence in its inner aspect -in Mann's view, a specifically German decadence. Music is its characteristic art, because it is· at once most exact and most inarticulate, most exacting and most in- dulgent, most artful and most licentious. Aschenbach, who is given the highbrowed physiognomy of the romantic composer Gustav Mahler (news of whose death had just been received by "a respectfully shocked world"), is a writer of prose in the city of music, that is, a man of form in a city of dissolution. His relation to the boy Tadzio is essentially "musical" in the romantic sense: the sound of the boy's undecipherable Polish tongue strikes him as music, he hears his name at first as HAdgio/' a reminiscence of that "unbelievably old-fashioned" adagio which Nietzsche describes as enchanting him on his last night in Venice. And at the scene of Aschenbach's death on the beach of Venice, a black cloth, thrown over an unattended camera, flutters in the wind, a reminiscence of the black flag planted on the beach in the first version of the last act of Tristan, the flag in which Tristan enshrouds himself to die. Parts of Tristan were scored m Venice, and, of course, Wagner himself died there. A Mann did not know it until later, in the years just before 1912 Maurice Barres had written an essay called "The Death of Venice," which is largely a catalogue of romantic pilgrimages to the decomposing romantic Mecca, and which ends with these words: "The ocean rolls on in the night and its waves in breaking orchestrate the motif of death by excess of love of life." The central romantic motif of Death in Venice is just that-the fatal effect of the writer's revivification through passion. Appearances and reminders of death and the underworld abound and are interwoven with the development of Aschenbach's passion for Tadzio, who is typically seen against the void of the sea. In particular, there is a recurring death figure, a reddish type with a death's head physiognomy: the wanderer who outstares Aschenbach from the portico of the funeral chapel in Munich, the j'circus director" of a captain with whom Aschenbach, when boarding the cavernous black steamer for Venice, signs a Faustian contract, the outcast gondolier who ferries him-in a swimming coffin-to the Lido, the balladeer who, spreading fumes of disinfectant, sings a hysteriaproducing laughing song, while Aschenbach sits sipping pomegranate juice (the pomegranate being a symbol of the underworld) in the presence of Tadzio. Each of these wears a yellow piece of clothing as the sign of the "smouldering ugliness" of sickness and, in particular, of the Indian yellow cholera which will be the physical cause of Aschenbach's death. THOUGH 4 But aside from these occurrences within the text, the theme of death is its tacit background. As Aschenbach approaches Venice by sea, he recalls an unnamed ''melancholy and enthusiastic" poet who had once approached the city by the same route, and he recites some of his poetry to himself. This unnamed predecessor is August von Platen, a romantic lover of antiquity and of boys, and a poet of strict forms. It is easy to conjecture what poem Aschenbach is thinking of. It is a poem called "Tristan" and has these closing lines: He who has looked on beauty with his eyes Is already in the hands of death. We shall return to them later. M ANN regarded the fourth and central chapter of the work, which he calls an "antiquicising" chaptet and begins with a beautiful description of dawr in the classical style, as its most successful part. This chapter is filled with references to Greek antiquity, some of which I shall now note. 'I be first allusion to antiquity (which occurs even before the central chapter) is that illicit gondolier who ferries Aschenbach across the lagoon of Venice and whom Aschenbach suspects of being about to'send him to the "House of Hades"; he is clearly Charon, the ancient ferryman of the dead, who carries souls over the Styx. You may remember that he is cheated of his pay, and this corresponds to the fact that Charon will not ferry those who do not pay him an obol-thus Aschenbach has not truly arrived and must reenter the city properly a second time after his abortive flight from the city. The Lido, the beach of Venice, where Aschenbach is lodged, with its shoreside life of playful leisure, is described by a direct quotation from the Odyssey, significantly a description of existence after death in Elysium where "easy life is the lot of man, where there is neither snow, nor winter, nor storm or streaming rain, but Ocean ever sends a softly cooling breath and in blessed leisure the days run on." Another time it is seen as Homeric Phaeacia, the nautical land of artful luxury, and Tadzio, in his sailor suit, is a Phaeacian youth living in indulgent elegance. Once the boy Jashu, who plays the role of Tadzio's slave, is given advice which is a direct quotation from Xenophon's Memorabilia, from a passage dealing with the ability of the mere sight of beauty to induce madness: "But my advice to yon, Critoboulus, is to go and travel for a year, for that much time at least will you need for recovery." In fact, most of the classical references are descriptions of Tadzio. Aschenbach thinks of him variously as Hyacinth, the boy killed by Zephyr out of jealousy of Apollo; as Ganymede, the boy carried off by Zeus to be his cupbearer; as Narcissus, the boy hopelessly in love �July 1972 with himself; as Cleitus and Kephalus, two boys carried off by Dawn. He is a sunlit statue of the noblest period, described in words borrowed from the art history of Winckelmann, the contemporary of Goethe, who introduced the notion and. appreciation of antique sculpture into Germany. Once he is described in terms of the famous Hellenistic statue of a "boy pulling a thorn from his foot." Another time he is a divinity, Eros, particularly "Eros self-wounded" -he often wears a blouse with a red bow, simulating a"~DJ!!:d, 3er_!lis.Jlre5 ~ b!£9se on the collar of which rested the bloom of the head with that was match!~." 12 fact the chapter is full of hexameter @g_s, such as j;J)e fiiCkering blue Of the aethCr," add "fObsters n:mning off sideways.") a c!mrm T ADZIO cr also appears as Eros in another, more signifi- cant, form. The Greeks, conveniently to Mann's theme, had the same representation for Love and' Death, a winged boy of about Tadzio's age, sometimes recognized as a single deity-Eros Thanatos, the Death Eros. There is an essay by Lessing called "How the Ancients Represented Death," which deals at length with the invariable attribute of this Death in ancient representations: that he stands in a graceful pose with his legs crossed-precisely the description of Tadzio as he stands near Aschenbach who is listening to the outcast balladeer while dri.nking pomegranate juice and inhaling the smell of the plague. And finally, the boy appears as Hermes Psychagogus-Hermes, the Leader of Souls, who conducts the poet, with a beckoning gesture familiar from ancient representations, out into the void of the sea and into nothingness. It is necessary for a moment to consider how antiquity comes both to Aschenbach and to Mann himself. For the former it is a tradition imparted in youth, that is to say, a part of the upbringing. Similarly Mann's familiarity with Greek myths came from his childhood reading-in fact he had preserved, and used while writing Death in Venice, a childhood favorite from his mother's library entitled "Textbook of Greek and Roman Mythology to be used in Upper Schools for Young Ladies and Educated Persons of the Female Sex." But most of the references to antiquity are accidental finds of quotations or are deliberately collected from books of reference-lexica, handbooks, and books of secondary learning. So, for instance, he found Cicero's definition of eloquence as. a "continuous motion of the soul," with which the novella opens, quoted in Flaubert. Most of the references, however, come from secondary works somewhat outside of the philological establishment, such as the book Psyche by Erwin Rohde, the friend and defender to the classicists of Nietzsche's Birth of Tragedy. From this work Mann borrowed not only the passage from the Odyssey, and the reference to the figure of Eros, but, most importantly, the description of the orgiastic cui t of Dionysus on which Aschenbach's catastrophic dream is based (though he did read Euripides' Bacchae in addition). I HAVE delineated the spheres of reference at some length and made a point of tracing the sources of the central one not merely because the work itself invites such an enterprise, but even more because the intactness and separability of the spheres and the indirection and second-handedness of the sources are an essential characteristic of Mann's artistry, that is, of his linguistic virtuosity, of his compositional art, and most importantly, of his conscientious modernity, by which, I should now say, I mean in this context precisely a peculiar relation · to the past. Regarded as a characteristic of style, Mann himself gave a name to his procedure-he called it "parody." By 41 parody" Mann means "a kind of mimicry" of the styles of the past. The occasion for parody is set out in Mann's last large novel, written during the Second World War, Doctor Faus.tus. The composer who is the protagonist conducts what must be described as a soliloquy with the devil which is made to take place in the year in which Death in Venice was written-indeed the time structure of the book is based on a parallelism between the times before the First and Second World Wars. The devil has just commented on the devastating fact that the assumed and binding conventions of the arts have lost their power to carry meaning and that the forms necessary to invention have become worn out; whereupon the composer says: "It might be possible to energize the game by playing with forms from which, as is well known, life has vanished." And the devil answers: "I know, I knowparody...." Parody, then, is a nostalgic mode which makes the tradition accessible by way of remotion and traduction. By making the tradition a matter of learnedness, not in the sense of the organized industry of the schools, but as an illusionistic creaming of secondary books, the playfully pedantic parodist at the same time makes it serve him and holds it at arm's length-in so employing the tradition he pronounces it dead. I N respect to style in the narrow sense, that is to say, diction, Mann's parodistic treatment is a matter, on the one hand, of a wonderfully versatile mimicry of modes of speech, and, on the other, of a descriptive language precise by the very fact of being somewhat distant. By "distant" I mean that words are us,ed, as it were, with raised eyebrows, fastidiously, exquisitely, with a virtuosity which is essentially a kind of disengagement. As far as composition is concerned, the parodistic mode results in something analogous to counterpoint, an inter- 5 �The College weaving of intact themes, namely precisely those I have just finished extricating. It might be said that so musical a use of themes requires a very external relation to events and people. But the parodistic mode is most intimately related to the third facet of Mann's artistry, his specific modernity, for, as the passage from Doctor Faustus shows, it is nothing but an attempt to do battle with "decadence." Mann once characterized his literary mission as the loving dissolution of the tradition, by which phrase he meant a kind of modern re-use, and therefore abuse, of the past in an attempt to fill the emptiness of the present. It is in more than one way no accident that the Greek past plays a central role along these lines in the novella, and for this reason: that antiquity offers for re-use not only conventions and styles but also myths, time-honored tales full of precise and publicly accepted detail concerning events and persons of divine or grand stature. To characterize his later works, especially the novelistic sequence Joseph and his Brothers, Mann liked to use the linkage "myth plus psychology." By "psychology" he meant, as we usually do, the exposure of hidden personal motives, which .he superadded, as a kind of modernization, to the mythical aura of his characters. In Death in Venice this "psychological" aspect is absent, for Tadzio, on whom the use of myth centers, is, so to speak, not a person at all but a living statue, so that the use of myth is, as it were, balder than in later works. N ow how, precisely, are myths, or rather references to myths, used to give meaning to the novelistic present? The answer is simple, sad, and significant: the reference is the meaning of the work. Tadzio is, or better, is meant to be, a conglomeration of mythical shadows, he is Eros and Thanatos, Love linked with Death, but what love and death might be is not itself in question. I have often been told-in fact by a former dean of this college-a seminar story which precisely illustrates the deficiencies of this use of myth. As you know, the rule for visitors to seminars is that they may not speak unless there is imminent danger of internal combustion. One night a certain academic was visiting a seminar on Sophocles' Oedipus Rex. The question that was being discussed was why Oedipus chose to punish himself by putting out his eyes. The visitor, who was beginning to meet the requirement for contributing before described, was invited to speak, and gave what he claimed was a prefectly obvious and conclusive reason: that that was the punishment Sophocles had found in the myth. Whereupon a student, presumably with a look of wide-eyed innocence, asked: "And why did he choose to punish himself hy putting out his eyes in the myth?" That is precisely the question the mode of meaning as reference or allusion does not consider. I would like to inject a comment here: this way 6f celebrating our tradition by making a rite of it, by putting 6 the seal of completion on it, does not seem to me good or safe-perhaps we can talk about this in the question period. But we do live in a state of decadence, of falling away, the more so for no longer naming it as such, and Mann's way of laying the past to rest seems to me vastly better than the hatred of it accompanied by ignorance which characterizes the brutal branch of the phenomenon of decadence. But to return to the exposition and now to somewhat wider considerations. B the parodistic style, as its source and ground, there is a view of the world which we must now look into. It is caught in the word which Mann used most often and most persistently of his work-the word "irony." The signification which Mann gave it has its origin in the romantic school of writers and their EHIND theorists. "Irony" itself is a Greek word which means "dissembling" and which was made notorious by Socrates. When, in the Platonic dialogues, an interlocutor refers to Socrates' "wonted irony" he means Socrates' strangely arousing claim not to know. It is not that Socrates is considered to be crudely pretending not to know what he in fact knows. Rather the interlocutor thinks that the claim not to know is itself a subtle assertion of knowledge -the knowledge of ignorance-so that Socrates' dissembling reveals rather than hides superiority. It is precisely this aspect of irony that tbe romantics abstracted-a certain superiority in intercourse, a sense of holding oneself aloof and above the conversation. They combined with this attitude, or perhaps found as its source, the idea of the human being as a "self" or "subject." By a "self' or a "subject" is meant an original source of all representa- tions, or more simply, of all experience, exactly as when someone, inevitably, says in seminar that "everything is subjective." From such absolute subjectivity they drew the sense of a lack of responsibility and obligation, a right to hover above issues, to play infinitely with the creatiohs of one's own thought. Romantic irony is thus a negative principle, an "infinitely delicate play with nothingness" in Kierkegaard' s words, and is therefore easily seen as the very principle of art, interpreted as the externalized play of the subject, which is carried on according to no rules but those established and recognized by itself. In the romantic vocabulary the complement of irony is enthusiasm, the-baseless-intoxication of the self with its own creations. T HIS must be the place to interject once again a brief circumscription of the term '~romantic," a term so indispensable to the discussion of Mann's work. To begin with, there are artless and cunning romantics. By the artless kind I mean children of all ages engaged in the self-indulgent excitation and expression of the emotions. The others are the interesting romantics, �Jnly 1972 in whom-! am using Mann's words-a "yearning and dreamy" aspect is supplemented by enormous "artistic refinement." Let me quote from his essay significantly entitled "Germany and the Germans": "The romantic/' 41 he says, is counter-revolution, the revolt of music against literatme . . . the pessimism of honesty" as against the optimism of rational action. "The special prerogative which it accords to the emotional over reason, even in its most remote forms, such as ... dionysiac intoxication, brings it into a special and psychologically immensely fruitful relation to sickness." For Mann, Romanticism is, then, essentially a counter-movement, a consequence of and reaction to optimistic rationalism, that is to say, to the worJQ·ofapplied science, which defines a counter-world of emotion, but does so wilfully, artfully, and self-consciously. The romantic is the deliberately passionate, which we may call the emotional. With this understanding of romanticism Ma"P-n's "irony" has the following character. It too contains the notion of aloofness or hovering. But hovering is always between something, between two extrem.es or poles, and it is con- sequently typical of the ironist that he engages in what I shall call "polar thinking," a variation of thought which seems to me of great clinical interest since it is deeply characteristic of modernity. (Of course, it might be argued that such polar thinking is the consequence of the polar constitution of the world, but I shall here disregard that possibility as unlikely.) are three names behind Death in Venice, three spheres of thought that Mann has appropriated for his own purposes-Schiller, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche-and it is precisely in respect to polarities that might be extracted from them that Mann absorbs their thinking. Among these, Schopenhauer is most tacitly in the background; Aschenbach's novel Maja, a novel "under the shadow of one idea," is the only explicit reference to him. Mann himself had planned a novel by that name, and his notebooks explain the connection of the title with Schopenhauer's "Veil of the Maja," the web of illusion of isolation and appearance in which we are caught. The novel was to set out an interpretation of T HERE desire, in particular the desire of the weak for ''life," that is for those who have health and beauty, as the entanglement of the isolated individual in the "Veil of the Maja," and was to present the artist's mission as the double one of exposing and preserving the illusion. The polarity here is that of life, that is, hale and hearty mere existence, as opposed to deprivation and desire. The "Nietzschean" polarity becomes explicit toward the end of the novella, in the fifth and last chapter. Whereas the fourth, central, chapter is presided over by Apollo-it begins with a description of the dawn of days spent within sight of the sunlit Tadzio, the sun-god's ascent in his chariot, and the sunny beach-the fifth and final chapter is dominated by Dionysus. It contains an exact and lengthy description, in the tradition of Thucydides and Lucretius, of the invasion and course of the plague, the Indian cholera, which is insidiously wasting Venice and which forms the background of Aschenbach's growing illicit passion for the Polish boy. Then comes a night in which Aschenbach has a dream of the orgiastic entry of Dionysus into Greece and his own soul, which d~eam con~titutes his internal catastrophe and the beginmug of h1s end. The source of the two gods which dominate the chapters is Nietzsche's Birth of Tragedy, though, of course, Mann has made this important change -that the savior god of The Birth of Tragedy has become the destroyer god of Death in Venice. T last polarity is derived from Schiller's essay "On Naive and Sentimental Poetry," the only work which is, together with its author, mentioned by name in the novella, namely when Aschenbach's essay on "Spirit and Art" is said to be comparable to it. That essay, which Mann intended to write himself, was to be, in the words of the novella, a work of "antithetical eloHE quence," and Mann's extensive notes list the "antitheses" with which it was to deal: Spirit and Nature, Spirit and Art, Culture and Art, Will and Representation, and many more, in Jact so many and so mutually involved that Mann's largest critical attempt was intellectually doomed from the beginning by the very excess of polar opposites. The object of the essay was to be to save the artist from the imputation laid upon him by Nietzsche, of being a charlatan enslaved to the "Olympus of illusion," by establishing a type of "literateur" who would be free of such enslavement, a dignified moral critic of his times, a man of intellect and psychological insight. Death in Venice, in which such a writer is invented only to be shown to be doomed to exposure and destruction, must have made this enterprise morally impossible for Mann. It was Mann's intention furthermore to set off this modern "sentimental" writer against a naive poet who might perhaps be healthier and nobler but would not be so much a man of the times. Let me here explain briefly what Schiller means by "naive" and, especially, by the word "sentimental." The sentimental poet's concerns are sentiments rather than objects of nature; he reflects on impressions received; he is "subjective," while the "naive" poet, such as Homer, who is for Schiller the naive poet par excellence, sets out nature, that is, natural objects, in shining sculptural clarity, without introspection or reflection. For Schiller this distinction is largely coincident with that of ''ancient" and "modern"-the ancients being naive, namely "objective," attending to what is given by nature, and the moderns ''subjective," namely attending to themselves. Now, the founder of German Romanticism, August Schlegel, on his part, identified the literary distinction of "classicaP and ''romantic" with "ancient" and "modern" 7 �The College (and I might interject here that Goethe, by whom Mann's definition of romanticism was clearly influenced, in his Conversations with Eckermann abruptly identifies the classical with the healthy and the romantic with the sick). An argument might be made, then, that there is a kind of grouping of terms-naive, classical, ancient on the one hand, and sentimental, romantic, modern on the other, which informs the novella as its most specific "polarity." T HE latter group circumscribes a notion which plays a dominating role in Death in Venice, the notion of "Art." The source of Art, with a capital A, the Artist, is, for Mann, not primarily one who possesses art, namely craft or knowhow, but a man whose ultimate preoccupation is with the conditions themselves of his production. The novella, then, turns centrally about the relations of the sentimental, romantic and modern subject, the artist, to his opposite pole, the naive and classical object of nature, which is therefore very appropriately and tellingly presented in the guise of antiquity. But just as the antique form is second-hand and modernized, so what the artist of the novella faces is not an object of nature conceived as having its own being, but a product of natura] art. For the boy Tadzio is always described as a statue, whose language is music, and is said, in a thought borrowed from Schopenhauer, to be the product of a "strict and pure will which, darkly active, had been able to project this divine sculpture into the light." In a word, the novella is about the decadent artist's confrontation with a living work of art. With a significant ineptitude, for which one hardly knows whether to laugh or to cry, the proponent of this problem presents himself under the guise of Socrates. As always, Mann works from modern prototypes: he has in mind not only the rationalizing, distintegrating Socrates of Nietzsche's Birth of Tragedy, but especially the Socrates of Hoelderlin's poem by the same name, two lines of which are twice paraphrased in the novella; they are: "He who has thought most deeply, loves what is most alive, and in the end the wise man bows to the beautiful." But Mann did also read two Platonic dialogues while at work on the novella, the Symposium, especially Socrates' speech, which happens to be directed to Phaedrus, and the dialogue Phaedrus itself. M use of what he read in the dialogue is, as always, thoroughly parodistic, that is to say, the text, as in the case of Schiller, Schopenhauer, ANN's and Nietzsche, serves as an occasion for mimicry and remi- niscence, not for responsible appropriation. In fact one might say that the Platonic references in the novella contain nothing but external allusions to the dialogues and that to explicate the differences wGuld be to set out a new modern opposition to supersede the classical one of philos· ophy and poetry, namely that of philosophy and Art in 8 the sense before described-and it is possible to find better contexts than this for that enterprise. However, it does seem to me that Mann was in some way sensitive to the Platonic text, since there are certain salient points which he quite particularly and sure-handedly reverses. The passages in question are Aschenbach's two soliloquies, acknowledged by Mann to be the centerpieces of the work, in which he apostrophizes the Venetian Phaedrus. In the first of these, which occurs in the "Apollonian" fourth chapter, the writer, under the influence of the ironist's enthusiasm but still in control of himself, raises the setting of the Platonic Phaedrus, the plane tree and the turf outside the walls of Athens. There Socrates is made to court Phaedrus, the wise man the beautiful youth, and the courtship consists of instruction concerning desire and virtue. This is an adaptation of that part of Socrates' recantation in the Phaedrus which describes the behaviour of the temperate and the intemperate lover of beauty, including an adaptation of Socrates' definition of beauty as the sole and only one among the beings of the realm beyond heaven which can become visible, that is, as visible form. The passage closes with a reference by the romantic Socrates to the Symposium, to "that perhaps most tender and most ironic thought ever thought" by means of which the enthusiast seeks to save his superiority and his dignity-the passage in which Phaedrus himself claims that the lover, filled as he is with divinity, surpasses the beloved. T HE second apostrophe is spoken by the cosmetically rejuvenated, already infected, Aschenbach in the "Dionysiac" fifth chapter. It begins by once more characterizing beauty as visible divinity and as such "the way of the sensual man, the way of the artist to the spirit," and proceeds to set out the "problem" of the novella, the problem of beauty. It is not the questio11 "what is beauty" that concerns the sentimental Socrates but the problem beauty poses for the "artist," which was expressed by the lines from the poet Platen quoted above: He who has looked on beauty with his eyes, Is already in the hands of death. This problem, which is very much an autobiographical one, might also be called the problem of "the two abysses." Aschenbach, like Mann himself, is said to have been in his youth "problematical and unconditional," by which Mann means that he indulged in the uncompromis· ing, dogged, melancholy, conscientiously thorough pursuit of such insights as lead to the exposure of motives, the doubting of talent, the betrayal of art, in short, that he pursued such knowledge as consists of "seeing through" or "breaking up" things and is usually called "analytic." But these sharp and bitter insights lose their charm and begin to be felt as an abyss of dissolute and "indecent psy· �July 1972 chologism." Aschenbach turns away from them in middle age as having and conferring no dignity, and experiences what he terms the "wonder of a reborn naivete." But in the sentimental poet this new naivete, this moral resolve to abjure psychology, takes the form of a classicism of form, a "purity, simplicity, and symmetry" which results in a "moral simplification of the world," a moral indifference. I is in this condition of being under the discipline of a thoroughly formalistic classicism accompanied by a strict regimen in his private life, that the emptiness of his inner life is invaded and the second abyss opens. For the master of classical form sees a live work of art which is the realization of his own efforts to become a "naive" artist. And because it is flesh and blood, it brings with it Eros and the formalistic poet of the "second," T that is, acquired, naivete has no inner s_ubstance where- with to withstand his devastation. "For"-I am quoting from the second Phaedrus apostrophe-"we poets . . . are not capable of rising, only of straying." In other words, for the poet of the novella, because he knows no lovable wisdom and therefore has no love of wisdom, "the way of the artist to the spirit" which leads through sensual beauty, that is, through visible spirit, is not viable; the poet's Eros precisely reverses the erotic motion of the Symposium-it is not a raising but a demeaning motion. And not only is the road not viable but (and this may be the same thing) its terminus is left perfectly uncircumscribed-there is no indication of what is meant by the "Spirit." Let me read a last quotation. "The masterly bearing of our style is a lie and a foolery, our fame and honor a farce, the trust of the crowd in us highly laughable, and the education of the people and the young through art a risky undertaking which is to be forbidden." These words are not from Plato's Republic but from the second Phaedrus apostrophe in Death i.n Venice. This is what Mann, perhaps in the end not so inappropriately, allowed Socrates to say about "art."· Let me summarize the reason for his condemnation: the artist is a man of form and his torrn, or rather formalism, has a false relation to the passions. I in turn, tried to show what the elements of the artist's forms, of his artistry, are and what the vices of their virtues might be, such that they impose on us and can be called charlatanism. Let me summarize them also. There is Mann's linguistic virtuosity, his way of using words. Aschenbach makes nine attempts to describe Tadzio, to render his appearance in words, only to realize that this descriptive use of words, which Mann HAVE, and is, in fact, a hopeless enterprise. Nor are Aschenbach's words for human communication-perhaps the most telling reversal in Mann's use of the Platonic Phaedrus is that a dialogue, which deals with the relation of eros and rhetoric, suggests to him a soliloquy, that the writing Socrates has no way to form and control his love by logos, and that not a word ever passes between him and the Venetian Phaedrus. Then there is Mann's mode of parody, a way of battling decadence characterized by a willfully irresponsible and yet persistent, somehow loyal, relation to the tradition, in which the present is referred to the past for its meaning. Associated with parody is a "musical" mode of composition in which themes occur to provide moments of allusion and reminiscence intended to elicit a pre-set reaction, a device analogous to what is called "leit-motif" in Wagnerian contexts. And finally, there is Mann's manner of disposing of issues and preparing them for novelistic use which he calls his "irony"-a way of seeing problems in polar terms and playing with these, trusting for resolution to something indefinite called the "Spirit." me end as I began with an apology for Mann and the study of Death in Venice. Mann prided himself, rightly, on his laboriously conscientious pursuit of the problems which he saw-and what he saw and pursued in the novella was the problem of romantic reaction. But this problem seems to me to be one of the most complex and recurrent aspects of modernity, the one which shows that to attempt to battle the evils of our times while firmly planted within them only leads to a deeper implication with them. To put it another way-Death in Venice is a serious reflection on what it means to have a false relation to the passions and to the past. T Miss Eva Brann delivered this lecture at St. JohnS College in Annapolis in the Spring of 1971. Miss Brann has been a Tutor at St. fohn's College si'nce 1957. Prior to completing her Ph. D. at Yale l'n 1956, Miss Brann hiJd been a Fellow of the American Numismatic Society, a -Fellow of the American Sch-qol of Classical Studies at Athens, and a member of the staff of the American Agora Excavations at Athens as a Sibly Fellow of Phi Beta Kappa. somewhere calls "eros in the logos," is forever inadequate, 9 �A commencement address is covertly a sermon. It is traditional that a sermon begin with a text. Accordingly, I quote from the Meditations of the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (XI,39): OLD WARS Robert Neidorf Socrates used to say, what do you want? Souls of rational men or irrational? -Souls of rational men. Of what rational men? Sound or unsound? -Sound. Why then do you not seek them? -Because we have them. Why then do you fight and quarrel? The one thing that most intrigues me about this passage is the notion that rational men may be of two kinds, those possessed of sound souls and those possessed of unsound souls. I ask therefore that you reflect with me a while on this distinction. What are the names that we should give to these two kinds of rational men, and who are the best models? First, what can it mean for a man to be both rational and unsound? Early in Plato's dialogue Phaedrus, Socrates is made to give a speech in behalf of a thesis that we have all heard in recent years: -That it is better to have what is euphemistically called a love affair with someone who does not in fact love you. We are not obliged to read the thesis so particularly. In its most general form it is even more common: It is the claim that in giving his attentions to persons or things in the world around him, a man should preserve the invulnerability of his private soul, should not become overly committed or engaged, should in brief "play it cool." The speech itself begins (Stephanus•237) with a preamble on the importance of proper method, especially the importance of defining one's terms. Definitions are then given, and the speech unfolds into impeccable arguments based on those definitions. It is in other words a perfectly rational discourse, and must surely be satisfactory to those sophomoric souls who love to screech "define your terms!" 10 Craig C. Elzey Rob~rt A. Neidorf, a Tutor and Director of the Graduate Instztute at St. John's College in Santa Fe, delivers the Commencement Address at Annapolis on June 11, 1972. �July 1972 But something more is going on in this dialogue. Just before the speech begins Socrates is made to say I shall speak with my head covered ... I'm afraid that if I catch your eye I may be ashamed and falter. So in making this speech the face and eyes of the speaker are hidden. At one level the significance of this dramatic device is obvious; it warns the reader that neither Plato nor Socrates really believes the claim that is about to be made. But I believe it goes deeper; I believe it tells us something about the method and style employed in the speech itself; I believe it says that the exclusive employment of cool deductive argument, beginning from clearly defined terms, is inappropriate to important inquiries because the face of the inquirer becomes thereby a mask. In one way we have really known this all along. For in the presence of important questions the key terms could successfully be defined only if the questions were already settled; the hard thing is not the giving of definitions, but the act of open and open-minded inquiry, the act of eyes and face in place of the easier mechanical motions of rational mask. So with Plato's help we have a possible meaning for Auerlius' notion of the rational man of unsound soul. He is the man, ever so rational, who speaks to persuade but hides himself in the process. Models are not hard to find; in fact, they are unavoidable. Personally, I find a model in Presidential Advisor Henry Kissinger when he appears on my television screen to justify in clear terms and with cool argument the intensification of American bestiality in Southeast Asia. Perhaps we ought not to blame him for this monstrous use of mind, but ourselves; for we live and grow among schools and colleges that exalt the successful de bator and the overpoweringly brilliant lecturer as the primary models of men who know how to use their heads. In special contexts, for example in the law courts, the arts of rational debate and controversy may be necessary. But aside from such contexts they generate-so I believe-vicious misuses of the human mind. They produce performances that conceal and dilute the true commitments and true concerns of the performers, performances that will end by persuading the performers that they have no commitment other than to the performance itself. I sometimes feel that if one could only catch Henry Kissinger's eye he would, in Socrates' words, "be ashamed and- falter." Perhaps someone will now say-or think-that I am right because a rational head is useless and dangerous unless it is linked in the same body with a warm and loving heart. Such a person will have a name ready to apply to the man whose soul is rational but unsound. The name is: Technician. And after we hear the name we will be invited to conjure up images of energetic technological specialists who are slowly squeezing the heart out of human life and squeezing the life out of the earth we live on. And after that, we will hear about the old war between philosophy and poetry, or the more recent war between the sciences and the humanities, or the brand-new war between thinking types and feeling types. And, finally, we will be advised to abjure clear thinking and to take up sincere feeling instead. As an alternative to the man ofo rational but unsound soul, we are offered-not a man of sound and rational soul-but an irrational man. I must confess to you what is already obvious: I find this view every bit as offensive and vicious as the arrogant posturing of the rational debater. The question at issue is whether head and heart are one thing or two. Let me assume for the moment that head and heart are distinct and separate, and sketch what I believe are the consequences of this view. In the first place, it isolates the heart. I know it is fashionable to claim that real contact between humans occurs most reliably at the level of feeling and emotion, and fashionable to speak of the Ian· guage of the heart. I do not believe there is much of a language there, for language is an intellectual phenomenon that puts its user into contact with universals, while feelings tend to be particular; at the very least, language moves in the sphere of the public while the so-called language of the heart tends to be private. And experience will not bear out the putative reliability of heart-felt sincerity as a bond between men. Where I live, in New Mexico, there are too many communes based on the ethic of total sincerity that have dissolved into theft and violence. Where I work, at St. John's College, there are too many articulate members of the love-generation who cordially despise each other. If the heart is elevated into an autonomous principle, it becomes only a happy accident if it ever acts as a bond between men. For where hearts differ, there is on this view no reliable way to reach from 11 �The College one to another. The road is then open to the most extreme form of ethical relativism, which is nothing other than no ethic at alL And where differences become intolerable, violence becomes the appropriate response. If head and heart are indeed separate, it is perfectly legitimate both for individuals and for great governments to speak one way and act another; we have all seen it. In the second place, the same view empties the head of all significant content. When the activity of the intellect is taken as irrelevant to human concerns and commitments, there is then no real point to conversation about important matters. We may talk together in order to clarify o.ur convictions and desires, but when differences are located in basic axioms or in fundamental definitions, talk is at end. It is astonishing to me that this view is frequently held even among people who have read Plato. I will not dwell on the other degradations to which, on this view, the head becomes subject. For this one alone, I confess, makes me gag with horror. I repeat it: It is the claim that conversation and discussion are appropriate for the solution of trivial problems, but inappropriate for vital ones. A while ago I put the question whether head and heart are one or two. That was not a very accurate way of stating things. Insofar as they are clearly distinguishable they are clearly two. What I would like to be able to prove is that they are one in the sense that they are inseparable. To make a show of proving that is quite beyond my power, but I would like to share with you two sources which suggest powerfully that in the best sense, and in the best exercise, the powers of head and heart are indeed inseparable. The first source is the ancient philosophers. Both Plato and Aristotle drew a sharp distinction between, on the one hand, a faculty of calculation and deduction, and, on the other hand, a higher power that somehow knows the world by contact and acquaintance. I propose to call the former by the name of rationality and the latter by the name of reason. The usage is unusual, because "rational" and "reasonable" are usually treated as synonyms. Insofar, we moderns have lost the ancient notion that reason is something more-and something more important-than logic, calculation, and record-keeping. Insofar, we have lost the very possibility of an exercise of reason that 12 transcends both the barriers of private feeling and the masks of rationality in order to touch the world and to touch each other; we have lost the ability even to understand Aristotle's claim that "the primary objects of thought and desire are the same" (Metaphysics, XII,7), or his claim that "the soul is in a way all things" (De Anima, III,7). The other source is a famous passage from Helen Keller's Story of My Life (Chapter IV). It records the awakening of a blind and deaf child to the intellectual realm of language and universals, and the relation between the awakening and something else that we usually regard as quite separate: One day, while I was playing with my new doll, Miss Sullivan (my teacher), put my big rag doll into my lap also, spelled "d-o-1-1" and tried to make me understand that "d-o-1-1" applied to both. Earlier in the day we had had a tussle over the words "m-u-g" and "w-a-t-e-r." Miss Sullivan had tried to impress it upon me that "m-u-g" is mug and that "w-a-t-e-r" is water, but I persisted in confounding the two. In despair she had dropped the subject for the time, only to renew it at the first opportunity. I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor. I was keenly delighted when I felt the fragments of the broken doll at my feet. Neither sorrow nor regret followed my passionate outburst. I had not loved the doll. In the still, dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness. I felt my teacher sweep the fragments to one side of the hearth, and I had a sense of satisfaction that the cause of my discomfort was removed. We walked down the path to the wellhouse .... Some one was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers. Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten-a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over �July 1972 my hand. That living word awakened my soul, gave it light, hope, joy, set it free! As we returned to the house every object which I touched seemed to quiver with life. That was because I saw everything with the strange, new sight that had come to me. On entering the door I remembered the doll I had broken. I felt my way to the hearth and picked up the pieces. I tried vainly to put them together. Then my eyes filled with tears; for I realized what I had done, and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow. A sermon is covertly a testimonial of belief. Let me now summarize the belief I have been trying to express: There is such a thing as the reasonable; it is far more than the rational; and in the light of its exercise the distinction between logic and emotion is trivialized, and the distinction between self and other is joyfully eroded. I began this discussion in the effort to find a name for what Aurelius called the rational but unsound soul. The name proposed was Technician; I have no better to offer. Perhaps it should be modified slightly to Mere Technician, but in my view the force of the word "mere" indicates that what is missing is not passion and heart as such, but reason. Obviously the name for the man whose soul is both rational and sound is: Reasoner. It remains to find a model Reasoner. Marcus Aurelius might be proposed; he was after all a dutiful emperor and general who never lost sight of his problematic relation to others and to the univers. But I confess that the man we see in the Meditations is turned one degree too far inward for my taste. Perhaps, then, Socrates? Perhaps; but I wonder how far the Socrates of Plato's dialogues corresponds with historical reality. I think it likely that there is no model Reasoner except in idea; that is why Marcus Aurelius has occasion to note that even men who think they have sound and rational souls are men after all, so they fight and quarrel, and fail to be model Reasoners. But the idea of the Reasoner is not on that account fictitious. I think it functions as a measure, which is the right way for ideas to function. For myself, I have come to know that idea, or to feel it (it makes no difference which word is used) primarily in my few years at St. John's. I can say that without a blush, knowing full well how much I, and my students, and my colleagues, and the institution as such, have all failed to measure up. It is to me a great gift to have some sense of the meaning of one's failure. So I speak now as one failure to a whole group of failures, and I speak on behalf of all those other failures who have been your teachers and associates during the last four years. I hope that in the future the distinction between rationality and emotion will not be oppressive to you; I hope that the distinction between self and other will be cheerfully distant for you; and I hope that, although you go and I stay, sometimes you will catch my eye and I yours, and we will both be ashamed, and falter. Insofar as such things are ever possible, there is very high accomplishment and something worth celebrating. I hope your lives are full of such celebrations. Craig Elzey 13 �lOLA RIESS SCOFIELD In these pages we honor the memory of lola Scofield, who died on March 27th of this year. She will be remembered by alumni of the College and by her colleagues for her devotion to the ends that the College seeks to serve and for her careful attention to the needs and concerns of every student who made any claim upon her time. She will be remembered by all who knew her as delightful in conversation. We reproduce the remarks made by John Kieffer to the College community on April 7, 1972, and a sample of her own poems and drawings. It is proper that in this hall where she and her husband were always present for the weekly lecture, we. should pause to mourn the death of lola Riess Scofield, a tutor on the faculty of St. John's College for thirteen years, but a member, and in a larger sense, a teaching member, of the St. John's Community for almost forty-five years. When she retired from active teaching the citation offered by the College saluted her as a "dedicated teacher" and this sometimes abused phrase was for her exactly right. For her, teaching was a necessary part of that life of learning which had opened to her at the University of California, (then one of the great centers of learning of the world). She continued there teaching for eight years after graduation, meanwhile earning a Master of Arts degree and completing the course work for two doctorates, first in English and then in Philosophy. After a year abroad and two years teaching at New York University, she accompanied her husband, Richard, to St.John's in 1927. The coming of the program initiated by Mssrs. Barr and Buchanan ten years later was a new stimulus to learning. As she herself has stated, she took every adult seminar and tutorial the College offered and she also taught in the adult program. A feminist, she saw 14 no reason why women should not be appointed to the St. John's faculty. When the College became coeducational her arguments proved irresistible, and she at last gained the appointment she had so long desired. As a teacher she demanded of her students the same high standards of study she had set for herself. Since the opportunity for a university education had been so precious to her, she could not understand that anyone could take his admission to St. John's lightly. So for her students she was exacting but painstaking and solicitous in her encouragement of their work. I would not give the impression that she was a fussy schoolmistress. Her mind was sensitive and insightful and she had genuine wit. Her poems and drawings, published by the Collegian in 19 65, reveal her gifts of imagination and humor. Perhaps above all she benefited from her life with Richard Scofield, learning from him and giving him in tum the intellectual companionship he needed. Of her final contribution to Richard, caring for him through seven years of illness, and of her suffering from his death, one ought not to speak. May we rise for a moment of silence. �Egypt While pageantries of East or West Fade from the ancient land, These mortal mathematicals As in the dawning stand, Constructing their geometry Of shadows on the sand. Album Ah, Valentines of yesterday, The sullen fire of time Consumes your lace and satin hearts, The ribbon and the rhyme! You too have been in Arcady, Earth's ambrosial clime. Holiday On a crowded beach radios croon By many a languid knee; The boy has found in a caverned shell Ocean's melody And carries heme this distant voice That sings of Odyssey. �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES Charles Post MIRIAM STRANGE "What St. John's needs is an archivist." Miriam Strange said this to Pat Parslow, who interviewed her in her column "Lady in the Limelight" in the Evening Capital for April 1, 1949. Now, twenty-three years later, the College has got the message. Mrs. Parslow had added the comment: "and it's very clear that if such a position were created, Miss Strange would gladly fill it - as she does unofficially now." And lo, this too has come to pass, and all her affectionate friends, alumni and all who know her, may greet her with the title which she has created for herself during those many years when she "unofficially" held the position. An archivist's work has two aspects, and in both Miss Strange is abundantly qualified. One aspect is that the archivist must have an 16 intimate knowledge of the purpose and structure of the instutition whose records he keeps. I can testify with authority about Miss Strange's fitness for this part of her job. So many times, as President or Dean, I have had to think hard to answer her exacting questions about the interpretation of a catalogue requirement, about how our laboratory classes might be rated in conventional terms for other colleges to evaluate, about whether the performance of a student satisfies the requirements for graduation. Her responsibility was not only to maintain an intelligible, accurate record of the educational performance of students, but also to interpret this record to other colleges, universities and accrediting agencies. Every change the Instruction Committee makes in the teaching programs has implications for the permanent account and with these the Instruction Commit- tee rarely concerns itself; but Miss Strange does. After she has carefully explained to the Dean what is involved, he must make his decision, basing it on her meticulous marshalling of all the evidence. With experience like this her organized control of the archives cannot help but be total. There is, however, the second, and much more important aspect of the archivist's work. The content and material of the archives are what it is all about. For a college this means the students and alumni, the faculty and the Board of Visitors and GovernOrs, whose decisions control the life of the College. Miss Strange's contact with the individuals in all these catego· ries has been marked by her cordiality, her deep interest in the person and the career of everyone who comes under her charge. How often visiting alumni have been welcomed by her and questioned about their family, their jobs and their fate in general. How often an alumnus returning perhaps after twenty years to revisit the campus and, uncertain whether anybody would remember him, has been thus warmly received and then ushered in to see the president and the dean, or taken down to the coffee shop to meet whoever· of his former teachers might happen to be there. It is such a background that will convert the cold statistics of the archives in to a warm and living soul, so to speak, of the College. John Kieffer Dean 196 2-68 �July 1972 The time has come to let Miriam Strange emerge from the obscurity she has chosen to dwell in, to show her true stature, to make manifest what has for so long been her selfconcealed charm. For all things high and precious it is not easy to find the proper words. It is not easy, therefore, to find the words to describe Miriam Strange and the influence she exerted. There has been no other person at St. John's who has worked with such zeal, such devotion, such conscientious~ ness for the good of the College. Miriam Strange's work has been going on for almost forty-five years. In all these years she was always fully aware of what was happening at St. John's, what was helping to reach the College's educational goal and what was detracting from it. Her opinions, rarely uttered, but often enough noticed by those with whom she worked, subtly influenced the decisions that had to be made. Scott Buchanan - to mention the man insolubly linked to the College's destiny - must have known that better than anyone else. What has been and is always most amazing is Miriam Strange's unique. memory. She remembers everything that the College must know and has been told about every student: age, looks, place of birth, home of parents, what the student is doing after departing from St. John's, whatever has been said about the student by tutors or relatives or outsiders, what the student's successes or failures were. All the past of the College's life is Miriam horizon. Strange's ever-present Her silent role at graduation exercises vividly symbolizes both her modesty and her indispensability. Miriam Strange has now assumed a new position, that of College Archivist and Alumni Secretary, for which she is singularly well predisposed because of her intimate knowledge of the College's history and because the alumni, their interests and capabilities, their ART GALLERY FEATURES SCHOLDER RETROSPECTIVE AND EXHIBITION OF STUDENT-FACULTY WORK Spring shows at the St. John's Gallery in Santa Fe included the first retrospective exhibition of the work of Fritz Scholder and the second annual student-faculty exhibition. experiences an~ their desires, are Mr. Scholder, one of the most more familiar to her than to popular and controversial contemanybody else. porary American Indian artists, displayed paintings, drawings and June 30, 1972 Jacob Klein prints from his personal collection Dean 1949-58 in April. At the same time his work was featured in a special show at the Smithsonian Institution, and a book of his paintings, Scholder/fndians, had just been published by LIBRARY BENEFIT ENTERS Northland Press. The studentFOURTH YEAR faculty show winners included: The Book and Author Lun- Marilyn Henderson, thread arts cheons, sponsored by the Library division; Jim Nelson, potteryAssociates of St. John's College in sculpture; Alice Ericsson, paintingSanta Fe, have entered their fourth drawing; and J. R.· Thompson, year. They provide interesting photography. noontime programs for local citizens and extra funds for the College's library. Speakers at the 14th and 15th luncheons in April and May included James P. Shannon, former vice president of TRIAL BY JOHNNY-THE 1972 St. John's in Santa Fe and now a ANNAPOLIS SENIOR PRANK law school student; Nancy Wilson The Senior Prank-a traditional Ross, author of The World of Zen and Three Ways of Asian Wzsdom; St. John's Rite of May-usually Bill Barker, Denver writer and tele- measures up to the expected crivision personality; gothic writer teria: joyous, clever, inexpensive, Phyllis Whitney; cultural anthropol- and a complete surprise to the rest ogist Edward T. Hall; and poet of the College. Pranks of years past have occasionally invaded normal Drummond Hadley. tutorial or lab times, but never Richard Martin Stem, chairman of the Library Associates, is master before had a prank displaced the of ceremonies for the successful hallowed hours of a seminar night. On the afternoon of Thursday, programs held at Santa Fe's famous La Fonda hotel. Another series is May 18, and during dinner, some students noticed a general absence planned for the fall. 17 �The College of seniors on campus. More definite Jimmy Burress, and Nancy Willis suspicions were aroused shortly had the roles of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd before seminar time when certain Tutors, Dana Netherton played seniors were observed descending Mortimer Adler, and Tod Donahue on ropes from second-floor seminar the 1st Midshipman. The remaining rooms. Everyone discovered that seniors sang in the choruses of the seminar room doors all over Amorous Midshipmen and Johnny campus had been firmly sealed Women. The most astonishing part of the from the inside. A notice outside each door announced that a senior whole production was the seniors' oral examination of Michael Green success in bringing it to perfection would be held that evening in the in total secrecy. They wrote the libretto, built the set, and. rehearsed Auditorium. The "oral examination" turned this "Dramatic Cantata in One Act" out to be Trial by Johnny, an without divulging a single word of adaptation of the similarly titled what they were doing. The libretto of Trial by Johnny Gilbert and Sullivan opus. The role of Michael Green was sung by and Seminar of the Air (a Real Harold Koenig, while the real Olympic spoof of the forthcoming Michael Green played the portrait television seminars) was subseof King William. (The set, it should quently printed by The Collegian, be explained, was a replica of the the students' weekly newspaper. King William Room.) Christel Copies, while they last, may be Stevens played Miss Barbara obtained by sending $1.00 to The Leonard, Grant Wiggins the part of Co'llegian, St. John's College, Dean Goldwin, Randy Campbell, Annapolis, Maryland 21404. Craig C. /£lzey 18 PLAN UNDER STUDY FOR REGIONAL ALUMNI ASSOCIATIONS St. John's College needs a structure of alumni groups that would serve the mutual interests of its widely scattered alumni from its two remotely separated campuses. One suggestion is to create regional alumni associations (clubs, chapters) wherever a sufficient number of interested alumni could be brought together. Each of these groups would have the responsibilities and powers now exercised by the St. John's College Alumni Association, which serves so well the Annapolis area: to solicit members, collect dues elect ' officers and directors, determine organization budgets, plan programs for the support of the College's educational mission, and nominate Alumni Members for election to the Board of Visitors and Governors. An Alumni Council composed of representatives from each of the regional associations could provide the overall coordination when needed. The College, of course, would furnish administrative and mechanical assistance to each association in much the same way as it now does for the Annapolis group. President Richard D. Weigle and Provost Paul Newland would welcome suggestions on how to accomplish thl' general objective: to strengthen the impact of St.John's College in various centers across the country by the creation of mutually supportive and equal centers of alumni activity. At left, Thomas Ascik, author and conductor of uTrial by johnny", receives his diploma. �July 1972 jACOBSEN HONORED Tutor and Director of Athletics Bryce D. Jacobsen '42 this spring was given recognition on the tenth anniversary of the current intramural athletic program. Inspired by a student petition, the Board of Visitors and Governors, in an appropriate resolution, commended Mr. Jacobsen for the program which he devised, and for man Brooks Robinson and first baseman John (Boog) Powell. Tickets for the occasion were presented to Mr. Jacobsen in a surprise ceremony at the last softball game of the year. Miss Barbara Leonard, representing Provost Paul D. Newland, made the presentation. HOMECOMING 1972 James Grady the leadership which he has displayed in administering it. As an additional honor, Mr. Jacobsen, his wife, and their two grandsons were the guests of the student body at a Baltimore Oriole home baseball game. While there they met both All-Star third base- October 13-14, 1972, will be the time for reunions for all decade classes: 1912, 1922, 1932, 1942, 1952, 1962, as well as the Silver Anniversary class, 1947, and the five-years class, 1967. That will also be the time of Homecoming in Annapolis. And if you want to stay in town on F'riday or Saturday night, make your hotel or motel reservations NOW; there is to be a large yacht show in Annapolis that week-end, and rooms will be at a premium. The Alumni Office will be glad to help if you act quickly; we cannot guarantee miracles if you wait until September. NOTICE Nominations for the 1972 Alumni Award of Merit are now in order, Alumni Association president William R. Tilles has announced. All nominations should reach the Alumni Office in Annapolis before September 6th, and should contain sufficient biographical data to substantiate the nomination. The Award, up to three of which may be given each year, is made at the discretion of the Ass o dation directors to an alumnus for "distinguished and meritorious service to the United States or to his native state or to St. John's College, or for outstanding achievement m his chosen field." CLASS NOTES 1921 LtGen Milton G. Baker, retired from his position as Superintendent of the Valley Forge Military Academy and Junior College, continues as President of the Board and of the Foundation. 1929 On April 1st john W. Boucher ("Long John" of lacrosse fame) retired from his position as regional manager for the Pepsi-Cola Company in Birmingham, Ala. in a recent visit to the Annapolis campus, he revealed his plans to renew his teaching credentials in preparation for entering secondary school teaching. Dr. Eugene N. Cozzolino was elected to membership on the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College, for a three~year term which began in May. He is one of six members elected by the Alumni of the College. Gene and his wife Barbara, parents of Robert G. Cozzolino '63,Iive in Woodbridge, Conn. William A. Gross, Jr. brought more than 40 years of Federal service to a close when he retired in February. At that time he was chief of the Automotive Division of the Materiel Testing Directorate, Aberdeen Proving Ground, Md. Bill spent his entire career at Aberdeen, starting as a laboratory assistant and gaining national recognition for his work in automotive testing. 1937 One of the by~products of the Annual Giving Campaign is the information we receive from class ·captains about their classmates. A c~se in point is a letter from Asbury Lee III, sent along by Marcus· Smith. Asbury is president of the Clearfield Bank and Trust ·Company, Clearfield, Pa. He and his wife, the former Sally Hoffman, have six- children and six grandchildren. (For classmates, Sally was the girl Asbury was 'courting' while he was at St. JOhn's.) We were pleased to note that, although Asbury graduated from the University of Pennsylvania, he really feels much closer-to St. John's. 1941 Another alumnus elected to the Board of Visitors and Governors this spring was Victor G. Bloede, III, chairman of Benton and Bowles, ·a New York advertising agency. Vic was vice president and copy chief of French and Preston of New York before joining Benton and Bo~les in 1950. 19 �The College 1943 The old Oconomowoc flash, A. Scott Abbott, has embarked on a new career. Since late last year Scott and his wife Kate have been living in Mt. Edgecumbe, Alaska, where he is teaching high school for the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He writes that his students are wonderful, although teaching is different from what he did at college level. The Abbotts are enjoying their proximity to Sitka, apparently quite a cultural center, where many people remember Michael Ossorgin with great fondness. 1950 On April 6th John L. Willz"ams and his wife, India, held a reception at their home in Kentfield, Ca., for President and Mrs. Weigle. Alumni in attendance were Stephen W. Cantor '63, Edward B. Cochran '44, Sanford Feman '64, Stephen Fineberg '64, Mr. & Mrs. Bruce F. Glaspell S72, Mr. & Mrs. Philip Holt '69, Kieran C. Manjarrez 868, J. Morrow and Carol (Dimit) Otis '63-'64, Mr. & Mrs. Pasquale L. Patillo '56, Mr. & Mrs. Robert N. Sperber '50, Mr. & Mrs. Michael V. Trownsell '60. Also present and honoring the Weigles were Mr. & Mrs. Chapman Burk, Dr. F. M. Hinkhouse, Alan Fox, Susie Weigel, and Mr. & Mrs. James C. Mackey, parents of Susan ]. Mackey '72. 1954 Last winter Bernard E. Jacob became a member of the law firm of Fried, Frank, Harris, Shriver, and Jacobson of New York. 1955 James W. Stone reports that he received a Ph.D. degree in linguistics last fall from the University of California at Berkeley. He still supervises the teaching of South Asian languages at the Foreign Service Institute of the State Department. 1958 Thomas S. Yoon is serving as a- special assistant to the Speaker of the Korea National Assembly on Parliamentary Affairs. For some time, Tom has lectured in philosophy at the Far Eastern Division of the University of Maryland. For classmates, Tom's address is #106-13 Hoekidong, Dongdai mun-Ku, Seoul, Korea. 1961 Harrison Sheppard writes that he is now living in the Seattle area (Vason, Wash.) where he is Assistant Regional 20 Director of the Federal Trade Commission's Northwestern Regional Office. Stephen Morrow is taking a year's leave of absence from United Press International in order "to learn a modem language or two." Under the head of 'sloppy reporting' in the April issue, we attributed a number of things to David P. Rosenfield which are incorrect. Item: the young lady with Dave last fall was not his wife; he is "happily unmarried." Item: the correct name of his other alma mater is the Wheaton School of Commerce and Accounts. Our apologies for our errors. Meanwhile, Dave suffered a heart attack in .December, and was (April) in the ''late stages of recuperation." We wish him well. 1962 A good letter from Edward C. Green tells us that he is working in Baltimore as a psychiatric social worker in the Cherry Hill office of the Inner City Community Mental Health Program. Pali is currently housewife-motheri~g Sanya, 9, Lianne, 8, and Nona, 3, but Ned thinks she looks forward to further education, perhaps in psychology. They both hope to see lots of '62-ers at their tenth reunion at Homecoming. 1963 Our former managing editor, Mary Felter, called our attention to the catalog of the Catonsville (Md.) Community College, wherein Alan Dorfman is listed as an assistant professor-. of mathematics. A:p.other lawyer is working his way up in the legal world: J. Morrow Otis on January 1st became a member of the firm of Cotton, Seligman and Ray in San Francisco. Jed R. Stampleman and his wife Suzel are the proud parents of a son, Luc Jeffrey, born last November. 1964 Peter H. Crippen (see- April issue) is in Nigeria; with his wife and son, as an employee of the U.S. Public Health Service, working with USAID on mass immunization programs and infectious disease surveillance. Peter covers the three eastern cities of Nigeria, working out of Enugu. Jere my Leven and his wife Linda became the parents of Zachary John on March 16th, which happens to be the birthday of daughter Zoe. Jeremy works for John Bremer (MA '58), academic dean of Newton College, where Jeremy is an assistant professor of education in the Institute of Open Education. Pierre de Ia R. du Prey and his wife, julia (Busser) '66, stopped in the Alumni Office for a short but delightful visit this spring. He is teaching art history at Queens College, Kingston, Ontario{ Julia is studying voice. Also in Canada, but a distance from the du Preys, is David E. Rasmussen. Dave, his wife Tamara, and son Aran, live in Meat Cove on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. He is teaching school there, and writes that he lacks only completion of his dissertation for an Ed.D. degree from Harvard Graduate School of Education. 1966 Ian M. Harris, whom some remember as hobbling through his commencement exercise on crutches, has been teaching science at an alternative high school in Philadelphia, the School for Human Services. In April he passed his doctoral comprehensive examinations at Temple University, and plans an early start on his dissertation. He will work this summer under a grant from the Philadelphia School District, developing an urban high school curriculum entitled "Science for Survival." Christopher Hodgkin has taken a position as business manager of the Oakwood School, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Somewhat late, because we were late finding out about it, we annonnce the wedding, in Great Hall on February 2nd, of Susan Kennedy and Alan Hile, Jr., a graduate of the University of Virginia. The Rev. J. Winfree Smith, also a grad~ uate of 'The University', officiated at the ceremony. 1967 A very newsy letter from Helen (Hobart) Feeley brings us up to date on her activities since graduatiOn: she taught school in San Francisco for a year, then spent 2% years hitch-hiking around the world. In Hong Kong she met her English husband, and they were married in March of 1971. She spent three months in Greece, a "devastating six months in India and Ceylon", then taught English in Japan for three months. Helen points out that this latter activity is a good opportunity for St. Johnnies. In England for at least another four years, she and her husband are doing academic work, he toward a B.Ed. degree, she in social work. In this day of non-involvement, it is rare indeed when a private citizen is willing to help maintain law and order. �July 1972 Last winter, in downtown Annapolis, Robert A. Heini'ger witnessed a' pursesnatching, and pursued and apprehended the suspect. The Annapolis City Council recognized Bob's action with a certificate of merit. Our admiration, and congratulations, to you, Bob. Nancy (Zi'mmerman} and Gregory Scott asked that we let their friends know of the death, of serum hepititis, of their eight-month-old son, Albert Jolyon, last August. When Nancy wrote in April, she was expecting another child the following month. We join the Scott's many friends in both sympathy and wishes for great joy. 1968 Bettina Briggs (SF), last reported in these pages a year ago when she graduated in law from Boston University, passed her Massachusetts Bar examination during the winter. Linda Jean Farrell (SF) writes that she is now married to John Sanders, and is living in Gainesville, Fla. She received a B.A. degree in psychology last August. She, John, and their daughter Charlotte "live out in the woods and try to do as much exploring of all sorts" as they can. Thomas G. Keens (SF), in his senior year at the University of California, San Diego~ School of Medicine, has been involved in emphysema and chronic bronchitis research for the past two-andone-half years. In April Tom presented a well-received paper on his research at the national meeting of the American Federation of Clinical Research. He has also served as a member of the San Diego and Imperial Counties Board of Directors of the National Tuberculosis and Respiratory Disease Association. David I. Moss (SF), about whom we wrote in the April1970 issue, now works for Key-Rec in Dayton, Ohio, where he is also continuing his studies in conceptual design. The April issue of the National Jewish Monthly featured David's work designing and painting ketubot - handpainted marriage contracts - for his friends, and for friends of friends. 1969 Also from Ian Hap-is, we learn that Linda {Torcaso) Bernstein has finished law school at the University of Pennsylvania, while husband Mark has completed his second year. Mark's major achievement, Ian writes, has been in his work for Senator McGovern in the Philadelphia area. Maya Hasegawa has been working as a temporary office worker in Richmond, Va., and has also been working for Senator McGovern. She was elected a delegate to the Virginia State Democratic Convention. In September Maya will join the first class of the new Antioch Law School in Washington, D. C. She also writes that sister Kimi '7 3 is in Tokyo studying Japanese and the Japanese flute. Mi'chael J. Hodgett (SF) recCived the Bronze Star medal while serving as a security clerk with the U . .S. Army Medical Command in· Vietnam this past spring. He has since been discharged, and is employed at a bank in Santa Fe. 1970 SP/4 David D. Cici'a, a graduate of the National Defense fustitute in Monterey, Ca., as a- specialist in Russian language, is now st~tioned in Germany. We are grateful to his father for this information. Jeffrey D. Friedman is working toward an M.A. degree in the Philosophy Depart- ment of The Hebrew University, Jerusalem. In his spare time he is studying the Talmud with Harry Sinoff '74.Jeff hopes to see Steve and Nancy {Goldwin) Harvey '70-'68 in Israel this summer. Jeff is very anxious to enter into a discussion, with anyone, of the relation between Jewish and Western thought, especially regarding liberal education. (A third St. John's in_ Israel?) 1971 Maya Narayan Contractor (SF) and Jonathan L. Brewer (SF) were married last March at Shree Gurudev Ashram, Ganesch Puri, in fudia, in a traditional Hindu ceremony. After a brief honeymoon, the Brewers were to go to Thailand, where Jonathan is to teach English and English literature at Phet Buri, near Bangkok. As a brief follow-up to our April report of the planned wedding of Jane Sarah Goldwin to Donald K. Bandler: the wedding took place on March 24th in the Paris suburb of St. Maur. The Handlers had the distinction of being the first Americans to be married in that town. Bonni'e Louise Gage (SF) is now a staf{ assistant at The White House; perhaps this balances out all the McGovern workers mentioned earlier. 1972 Information from his mother reveals that summer graduate David H. Carey will be studying at the Gregorian University in Rome until1975. Christine (Ferrarini} Constantz"ne has been appointed to the newly-created position of Development litem on the Annapolis campus. fu this job Chris will help with almost all phases of the work of the Development Office. In Memoriam 1906 -Elmer G. Parsly, New York, N.Y., March 12,1972. 1907 - Charles E. Tilghman, Salisbury, Md., May 23,1972. 1909 - Christian F. W. Dammeyer, Annapolis, Md.,June 6,1972. 1910 - Isaac B. Jones, Washington, D. C., January 1972. 1911 - Henry L. Johnson, Cambridge, Md., March 19, 1972. 1913 - Edgar A. Jones, Princess Anne, Md., May 1, 1972. 1918 W. Duncan Deringer, Chestertown, Md., April9, 1972. 1919- Herbert E. Fankhanel, Baltimore, Md., April21, 1972. ~920 - Garland G. Brown, M.D., Ch1cago, ill., December 29, 1971. 1928 - Col. Charles D. Wiegand, Fort Collins, Col., March 7, 1972. 1929 - Hyman Schiff, M.D., Balti· more, Md., April 26, 1972. 1931 · H. H. MacDonald, Oakland, Cal., April12, 1972. 1931 Leonard H. McGiincy, Bridgeport, N.J., January 1972. 1934 - Edmnnd P. Wells, Augusta, Me., May 21, 1972. 1972 - Mordecai Gist Welling, Jr., Annapolis, Md.,Jnne 28, 1972. �Craig C. Elzey Recessional closing the 1972 Commencement at Annapolis. The Tutors moving toward the camera are, from left, Mr. Klein, Mr. Smith, Miss Fletcher, Mr. Bart, Mr. McGrath, Mr. Thoms, Mr. Sparrow, and Mr. Allanbrook. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 2l 404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 20 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, July 1972 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1972-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Wyatt, Malcolm Parran, Jr., Thomas Sinks, Jeffrey Description An account of the resource Volume XXIV, Number 2 of The College. Published in July 1972. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_24_No_2_1972 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/227f47140acbc33bf04527b6d14fcf97.pdf 57633bf45f322d3217ed3ccd047ea0c5 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico October 1972 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXIV October, 1972 No. 3 Editor: Robert Louis Spaeth Alumn.i Editor: Thomas Panan, Jr. Design: John Randolph Campbell Production: J effrey Sinks The College is published by the Development Office of St.John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President. Paul D. Newland, Provost. Editorial Board: Christine Constantine, Russell E . Leavenworth, Paul D . Newland, Barbara Oosterhout, Robert Spaeth, Deborah Traynor, Malcolm Wyatt. Published (our times a year in January , April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Mary land, and at other mailing offices. 1n the October Issue Cover: President Stringfellow Barr and Dean Scott Buchanan on the steps of McDowell Hall. Photo (c. 1940), courtesy of Mr. Winfree Smith. The New Program at St.John's College by Scott Buchanan l The Report of the President . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 An Interview with Barbara Leonard ........... 21 �The New Program at St.John's College by Scott Buchanan The prospectus of the New Program reprinted here is the earliest version to be publicly drculated. Written in July of 1937, it was inserted in the current Bulletins that were mailed out pending the issuance of a new catalog. The Airns of L£beral Education Two or three generations ago, when the aims of liberal education were still adequately implemented in curricula which had the sanction of both learned and popular opinion, it would have been unnecessary to discuss the aims in a college catalogue. Statements concerning aims would have appeared, and did appear, in the orig.inal charter of the college. Whereas, Institutions for the liberal education of youth in the principles of virtue, knowledge and useful literature are of the highest benefit to society, in order to t rain up and perpe tuate, a succession of able and honest men for discharging the various offices and duties of life, both civil and religious, with usefulness and repu tation, and such institutions of learning have accordingly been promoted and encouraged by the wisest and best best regulated States: Be it enacted, etc . This is the elegant style and certain manner of founders of St. John's College in 1784, as it was for the founders of King William's School in 1696. They could b e thus brief and concise, and their words stood safe and secure in the steady faith they and their readers had in the nature of things and of man. We begin with a looser style and an uncertain manner, and i t takes many more words to come to the point. In order to state our purpose we start with words from a writer, a scientific writer, of the nineteenth century: Education is the adaptation of the human animal to his environment. We note the play of the child and the restless activity of the adolescent in o rder to discern the thread that we wish to follow on to the end. Somewhere along this thread we must pass fro m the merely physical aspects of the environ· ment to the living aspects, and finally to those things that minister to intellect and spirit. In the process of adaptation play and activity must make their contribution to work and thought. Human animals must feed themselves, sense the world they live in, and move about; in these things they are like other animals. But they must also imagine, speculate, and practice the ar ts. These involve man the rational animal. We in this country have of necessity been concerned chiefly with our competence and adaptation in the useful arts, and in this we do not necessarily go astray. It is by taking the useful arts seriously that we discover the liberal arts. In the pursuit of our vital ends we find that imagination, scientific reason, speculation, and observation play an indispensable part, but we also increasingly realize these are special activities with special ends that must be pursued for their own sakes if our more immediate ends are to be gained. There must be appreciation, understanding, and knowledge of the truth even for the sake of our everyday needs. Recent crucial even ts make it unnecessary to argue this point. The arts of appreciating, understanding, and knowing the truth are the liberal arts, and they set their own ends. They are the arts of the freeman who sets his own immediate ends in the light of the more general good. It is only by the practice of the liberal arts t hat the human animal becomes a free man. It is only by discipline in these arts that spiritual, moral, and civil liberties can be achieved and preserved. It is in such obvious propositions as these that the founding fathers of 1784 and 1789 gave reasons for the instit utions that they set up. It is embarrassing to admit that they are not always familiar and obvious to us. It will be an important part of the instructio n at S t. J o hn's College to keep this part of our past alive in the minds of the students, but it is even more importarlt that we implement the ends which the propositions celebrate and seek the virtues which t hey die- �The College tate. mtimately the ends of liberal eduction are the intellectual virtues, the development of the capacities from which they come, and the integration of the characters to which they contribute. Tradition The most powerful controlling factor in any human environment is tradition, and any system of educa· tion that tries to ignore or escape the tradition within which it operates is bound to fail and destroy itself. The latent dangers in traditio ns become actual only when thev are ignored and evaded. Conscious sup· pression or artificial construction of traditions leads only to cultura l monstrosity. Eternal vigilance within a tradition is the price of liberty. But there are many traditions : local traditions, family traditions, even personal day-to-day traditions; professional traditions, scientific and literary traditions, political traditions like monarchy and democracy. These provide the mediums in which the individual lives and moves, moral supports for his purposes, and ways for his imagination and thought to travel. Fallen into decay and disrepute tradition reaches out a dead hand and stops the individual in his tracks. Traditions live in individual minds and spirits; individuals find their vital fulfillments in (jving traditions. It is the purpose of the new program at St. John's College to recover the great liberal tradition of Europe and America, which for a period of two thousand years has kept watch over and guided all the other Occidental traditions. All liberal colleges o ught to be devoted servants of this great tradition, and this is the secret of their tenacious attempts to discharge their functions against many odds. The tangible and eminently available embodiments and tools of this great tradition are the classics and the liberal arts. The Classics For a long period of European history the ancient languages and mathematics provided the educational mediums of this tradition. They were called the classics. In the last generation it has been known that they were no longer effective carriers. Our educational system has responded by dropping them. But we have not been successful in fmding the proper substitutes, tangible, available, movable objects whose obvious properties will enable teachers to move, lead, and disCipline students in the liberal arts. Failure at this point is fundamental failure, and compensations in other directions no matter how good in themselves, no matter how various and interesting they may prove to be to the mass of students, are unfaithful to the imperative need of genuine liberal education. The first step in correction and recovery is admission of failure, and the second step must be research in the literal sense of retracing the steps in the tradition back to the point where the thread was 2 lost. We, the members of the present administration and staff of St. John's College, have been engaged in this research for the last decade. By fo llowing the traces we have found the steps in the great books of the European intellectual tradition. They not only throw light o n what has happened to the liberal heritage, but they are themselves the mediums in which it can be revived and carried on in the liberal college. [n short the great books of European thought are the classics, and in this sense liberal education should still be classical. It may be well in this place to state the criteria of a classic, the standards by which a given book can be judged to be or not to be a classic. To begin with the apparently trivial, a great book is one that has been read by the largest number of persons. To followers of the publishers' announcements of best sellers this criterion may seem unworthy. Over the entire period of E Luopean history, Plato, Euclid, the Bible, and Shakespeare are the best examples ; barring historical accidents such as the burning of the library at Alexandria, the judgment stands. The second criterion is also apparently numerical: a great book has the largest number of possible interpretations. This does not mean that the book must be con· fusi ngly ambiguous; it rather refers to the inexhaustibility of its significance, each interpretation possessing a clarity and force that will allow other interpretations to stand by its side without confusion. Dante's Divine Comedy and Newton's Principia are the te!Ung examJ?Ies under this standard. The third criterion is more Important and harder to determine: a great book should raise the persistent unanswerable questions about the great themes in European thought. Questions concerning number and measurement, matter and form, ultimate substance, tragedy, and God open up mysteries for the human mind. These questions are met and evaded regularly by self styled practical men. Faced and explored they induce, balance, and maintain the intellectual virtues, and on their constant cultivation hang the issues of orthodoxy, heresy, and freedom which are always with us. The fourth criterion is that a great book must be a work of fine art; it must have an immediate intelligibility and style which will excite and discipline the ordinary mind by its form alone. Fifthly, a great book must be a masterpiece of the liberal arts. Its author must be a master of the arts o f thought and imagination whose work has been fai thful to the ends of these arts, the understanding and exposition of the truth. These five are the tests which a book must pass if it is to belong to any contemporary list o f the classics. But such a list makes a chronological series with an order that imposes additional powers on each book. Each book was written after and in the light of previous books; each book was written before other books which it has influenced. Eacl1 master 'las stood on the shoulders of another master and has had later �October 1972 masters as his students. These innucnces, which are historically vague in some cases, arc impressive in the books themselves. r.ach is so mething more than itself in its organic place in the series, and this has many implications. One cannot internally understand a given book un til he has read its predecessors and also its successors. I t turns out that the best commentary on a great book is another great book. Books now unintelligible to both professor and student become approachable and conquerable if the proper path through other books is followed. Finally the educative value and power o f any given book increases at a very high ratio as othe r books arc read. This is an overwhelming answer to inevitab.lc doubts whether the modern college student has capacities equal to the tas k of reading which the St. J o hn's program sets. I t is also intern al evidence from the books themselves that they are the best instrumen ts of education. Second-rate textbooks in special subject- matters do not belong to t he classics; they are the best examples we can find of books that are detached from the tradition and therefore doomed to early death. Several models and a great deal o f teaching and reading have gone into the compilatio n of the list. There is the experience with the American Expeditionary Force Uni versity at Baune at the end of the War, the re is the expenence with ho nors courses at Columbia University during the twenties, t here is the experience wit h adult reading courses in connection with the People 's Institute and the New Yo rk Public Libraries, there is the experience with undergradua tes, graduates, and high school students at the University of Chicago, there is the experience with Litterae Humaniores at Oxford, there is experience in the Benedictine monasteries fro m the sixth century o n. But the best model that we have is the Bible, a series of books so selected and ordered that they have become the Scriptures of the whole race . This is the most read book in our list, and its inspiration has spread backward and forward through all the classics. I t should be added that any limited list of the classics must always remain open to revision. There is no better way of revisi ng it than its continuous use in teaching in a college. The "best hundred books" is a variable for collecting the values that satisfy its criteria. That is the minimum way of describing the scholarly task that is laid on the teaching fa culty. A LIST Of GREAT BOOKS TN CHRONOLOGICAL OROER Homer: Iliad and Od yssey Aeschylus: Oresteia Herodotus: History Sophocles: Oedipus Rex Hippocrates: Sclcttions Euripides: Medea and £/ectrtJ Thucydides: History of the Peloponnesitln Wan Old Testament Aristophanes: Frogs, Clouds, Birds AristaJ'chus: On the Distance of tlul Sun and Moon Aristoxenus: Harmony Pbto: Mcno, Republic, Sopilist Aristotle: Organon and Poetics ATchimedes: Works Euclid: Elements ApoUonius: Conics Lucian: True History Plutarch: Lives Lucretius: On the Nature of Thi>ags Nicomacbus: Introduction to Arithmetic Ptolemy: Almagest Virgil: Aeneid S trabo: Geography {,ivy: History of Rom a Cicero: DeO[ficiis lloraa:: Ars Poctica Ovid: Metamorphoses Quintilian: Institutes Marcus Aurelius: To Himself New Testament Galen: On the Natural Faculties Plotinus: Enneads Augustine: De Mvsica and De Magistro Song of Ro/ond. Volstmga Saga Bonaventura: Ott the R eduction. of the Arts to '11wology 11)0 11'\as: Su.mm(l Th eolo&ricn Roger Bacon: Opus Maius Chaucer: Canterbury Tale.r Leonardo: Note-books Erasmus: CoUoquies Rabelais: Gargantua Copemkus: De Revo114tionibus Machiavelli: The Prince llarvey: On the Motion of the Hearl Gilbert: On the Magnet Kepler: Epitome of Astronomy Calilco: Two New Sciences Descartes: Geometry Francis Bacon : Novum Organum Hobbes~ Leviathan Montaignc: Essays Cervantes: Don Quixote Shakespeare: Hamlet, King Lear Calllin: hutitutes Gr o t ius: The Low of ll'a r and Peace Corndlle: Le Cid Racin.:: Piledre Molkn:: Tartuffe Spino-.a: Ethics Milton: Parad£<e Lost L<:ibniz: Mathematical Papers Newton: Principia lklyle: Skeptical Chymist Montesquieu: 1he Spirit of the Lows Swirt : Gulliver's Travels Locke: Es.say Concerning flu mma Undemanding Voltrure: Candide Fielding: Tom ]OIU!s Ro usseau : Social Contract Adam Smith: Wealth of Nations Hume: 1)-eatise of flumon Nllture Gibbon: Decline and Fall of th e Roman E mpire Constitution of the United Sta tes l'"cdcralist Papers ~\n t: Cri~ique of Pr trc Reason Goethe: Faust Hegel: Science of Lol(ic Schorcnhaurr: 11tc World IJJ WiU and ld~t1 Coleridge: Biographia Literaria Bentham: Prineip les of Momls mad of Legislation Mal thus: Esmy on the Principles of Population Mill : Systc1ta of Logic Marx : Capital Balzac: Pere Gon·ot Thackeray: llenry Esmond Dickens: David Copperfield Flaubert: Madame Bovary Dostocvski; en·me and Pun.islnuont Tohtoi: 111m- and Peace Zola: E"perimental Novel lb:scn: A Doll's House Dalton: A New System of Chemical Pllilosophy Oirrord: The Common Sense of the Exact Sciences Fourier: Mathematical A>llllym of lleat Faraday : Experimental Researches into Ekctricity Pcaoock : Algebra Lobachcvslti: Theory of Parallels Darwin: Origin of Species Mendel: Papers Bemar<l : Introduction to E!!tpt'Tim<'tltal Medicine Galton: EtllJ"iries into the Htmum Mind and its Faculties J oule : Scientific Papers Gauss: Mathematical Papers Galois: Mathe matical Papers Book: laws of Thought llamilton: Q!;tJtemions Riemann: The Hypotheses of Geometry Cantor: Transfinite Numbers Virchow: CeUu/ar Pathology Poincare: Science and Hy p otl·esir Hilbert: Foundations of Geometry james: Principles of Psychology Freud : Pt~pers on Hystena Russell & Whitehead: Principill Mallaematica Veblen & Young: Projective Geometry 3 �The books on this list for t he most part have recently been republished in cheap editions. The cost to the student during the four years' course will with a few exceptions come within the customary sum paid for textbooks. In special cases, for instance Euclid's Elements in Heath's translation, the College will arrange a subsidy. It is therefore feasible to make and remake such a list and to prescribe it as required reading of all students at St. J o hn's who enter the new program of study. The Liberal Arts There are two ways of explaining the function of the liberal arts in a liberal college. The simpler way is to describe the mechanics of instmction. That will appear in what follows. But first it will be well to make clear what the basic distinctions were before the modern chaos buried t hem under the materials of instruction. In general t he liberal arts are the three R's, reading, writing, and reckoning. So they still appear in our primary schools; it is their integrity and power that still lure us back to the little red school houses where our fathers and grandfathers studied and practised them. Before the nineteenth century they had a higher place and a more elaborate development which gave biith to and nurtured t he aiTay of subject-matters in the modern university. For fifteen hundred years they were called the Seven Liberal Arts, and before that, they were called the Encyclopedia, the " circle for the training of boys." There is a continuous tradition of these as there is of the books, and the two traditions are one in the end. Their formal and operating techniques arc more difficult to recover than their products in the great books, but the recovery has proved possible and also illuminating for the practical problems of instruction that the books raise. The dearest historic pattern of the liberal arts for the modern mind is, curiously enough, to be found in the thirteenth century. At the Lime of Dante's Divine Comedy and St. Thomas's Summa Theologies, they were listed as follows: Trivium Quadrivium Grammar Rhetoric Logic Arithmetic Geometry Music Astronomy With the medieval emphasis on the rational activities of man and the central position of the speculative sciences of theology and philosophy interest cen tered on the last m·t in each column , and the other arts were subordinate and auxiliary to them. The master of arts in the t hirteenth century would most likely write his books on logic and metaphysics or in music and astronomy. Other ages made different emphases. The renaissance found rhetoric, geometry, a11d music 4 (measurement) most productive and illuminating with the other arts subsidiary. The Romm1s went farthest in rhetoric, as one might expect from noting their legal activities. The Alexandrians gave h ighest honors to the grammarian scholar and the arithmetician and geometer, with considerable consequent attention in experimental science. The Athenian Greeks agreed with the thirteenth century in their ordering of the arts. It seems that we in our political preoccupation and economic energy, coupled with experimental science, are primarily concerned with rhetoric and music, the Pythagorean name for mathematical physics. The order and the shifts in order that this indicates reflect the shifts of attention and emphasis in the great books, and these in tum may be said to reflect the spirit of the ages in which they were written. These observations can be turned to account in the manner of teaching which we propose to follow . The entire period with the books and the patterns or the arts can be recapitulated in the four-year college course, the yearly divisions falling respectively at the end of the Alexandrian period, at the end of the middle ages, and in tl1e middle of the eighteenth century, and ending with contemporary writers. The schedule can be seen in the following scheme: �October 1972 Schedule of Readings by Years Languages and Literature Liberal Arts Mathc matks and Sdencc First l"ear Homer Hero dotus Thucydidcs Aeschylus Sophocles Euripides Aristophanes Lucian Old Testament Plato Aristotle HipPQcrates Galen Euc~d Nicomacbus Aristarchus ApoUonius Ptolemy Archimedes Aristoxcnus Second Year Virgil Lucretius Strabo Leonardo Horace Aurc~us Ovid Livy Cicero Plot in us Augustine Bonaventura Thomas Roger Bacon Copernicus Ca lvin Spinoza Kepler Harvey Cilbert Newton Leibniz Boyle New Testament Quinrilian Dante Volsunga Saga Song of Roland Chauc<:r Calilco Descartes Third Year Cervantes Shakes1>eare Milton Rabelais Corneille Racine Moliere Erasmus Francis Bacon llobbcs Locke Humc Montaignc Montcsquicu Crotius Fourth Year Gibbon Voltaire Swift Rousseau American Constitution f'cd("r.llist Papers Adam Smith Malthus Man< Fielding Balzac f'laubert Thackeray Dickens Ibsen Dostocvski Tolstoi Kant Schopcnhaucr Hegel Goethe Bentham Mill James Freud Peacock Boolc Fourier Lavoisier Dalton Hamilton Ostwald Maxwell Faraday Joule Danvin Virchow Bernard Calton Mendel Clifford Cantor Riemann Lobachevski Hilbert Poincare Gauss Galois Russell & Whitehead Veblen & Young This scheme correlates the books with th e appro· priate contemporaneous ordering of the li beral arts, and provides the basic pattern of instruction so t hat it will be most effective and economical. The two outside columns give the divisions of the books that are primarily literary and linguistic in medium and s tyle and those that arc mathe matical and scientific in these respects. The middle column gives the tests that expound the distinctions and o rdering principles of the arlS of reading, understanding, and criticism that will most efficiently exploit the contents of the boo ks. Along with these we propose to run laboratories of three kinds throughout the course, one to study the devices of measurement and instrumen ts of precision, another to repeat the crucial and canonical experiments in the history of science, and still another for the focusing and concentrating of t he devices of a ll the sciences upon such contemporary problems as the nature of the cell, the chemical, physical, and biological balances in the blood, and the basic problems in embryology. These experiments are the non-bookish classics that the modern laboratory has produced, and the consequent disciplines will be provtded for the liberal training of the student. I t is a fact of modern times that it is ch iefly by experimentation that the classics and the libera l ar ts are kept alive. The li beral arts are chiefly concerned with the na ture o f the symbols, written, spoken, and const ructed, in terms of which we rational animals find our way around in t he material and cultural world in which we live. Symbols have practical aspects, as in rhetoric and industry, which must be understood and distinguished from their theo retical uses and significances in science and literature. Again there are concrete data and artificial products that must be distin~ished [rom the abstract principles and ideas wh1ch gove rn them. There arc many connections that these aspects have \'\lith one another, and it is the business of the liberal artist to see those apart and put them together. Success in this constitutes intellectual and moral health. Failure is stupid ity, intellectual and mora l decay, ru1d slavery, to escape which the foundjn~ fathers set up institutions of liberal education. It IS reassuring to know that they had more than pious hopes in their minds when they made charters for St. J ohn's College and its sister institutions. Ma chinery of lustruction For students who choose to enter this program of study this year, 1937, there will be a staff of instructjon consisting of men who have come to St. John's from the University of Chicago, the University of Virginia, Columbia University, and Oxford. Ideall y these me n should be equally well trained in each <L~pcct of the progra m, have read all the books in the list, a nd mas tered all the arts. Actu<tlly the members of the staff have been educated during the period of academic specialization, and they therefore are 5 �The College specialists who have re-educated themselves in varying degrees. T ogether their specialties cover the range of the books and the arts, and stud ents will achieve balanced training through a scheme of combination and rotation for teaching techniques; the same will be true for persons in charge. Such a scheme is dictated by the books and the liberal arts. The teaching devices in the scheme arc four: l} reading and discussion of the books in seminars; 2} formal lectures on special topics in the liberal arts; 3} tutorials; 4 ) laboratories. Seminars. Meetings of these seminars will occur twice a week with any additional meetings that special circumstances or difficul ties may indicate. There wiJI be two instructors in charge, and the instruction will make use of a wide range of devices from explication de texte to analysis of intellectual content and the dialectical treatment of critical opinion. Formal Lectures. T he liberal arts o pera te in the light of principles which constitute the liberal sciences. These sciences will be progressively expounded in formal lectures by various members of t he staff as the course proceeds. They will be expository and critical also of themes that arise in the reading of the books. There will be at least two formal lectures a week. Tutorials. There will be three kinds of tutorial instruction for small groups or individuals in original languages, in mathemat ics, and in writing. The study of an original htnguage will be initiated in an intensive manner during a period of six o r eight weeks a t the beginning of each year. The books will be read in English transla tion, but their proper interpre tation is most rapid and efficient when they are studied as translations. This requires only a part of the knowledge commonly demanded now in language courses, a knowledge that is rapidly and easily acquired by the study and analysis of texts selected from the books on the list. T his training will serve two pw·poses in the course, first as it contributes to a knowledge of universal or general grammar as we shall study that in the liberal arts, and as a cumulative skilJ in the genuine reading of any text including those in English. Greek will be thus studied in the first year, Latin t he second, and French and German in the third and fourth . I t should be noted that these correspond wi t h the original languages of t11e texts in those years. T he second kind of tutorial will be ordered to the elementary study of the mathematical books. Modem stude nts, more because of the dive rsity in previous trainings rather than because o f any ge nuine d ifferences in native endo wments, vary a great d eal in their mathematical abiljties. The mathematical tutorials will be organized and taught o n the basis of diagnoses of individual cases with the aim o f leading each student into vita l inte llectual relations wit11 the mathematical texts. This task will be facilitated by the 6 mathematical laboratory for t hose whose d ifficulties lie on the operational level. The third kind of tutorial is concerned with training in wri ti ng. Selected texts will be memorized, imitated in style, translated, and criticized. The aim here will triple: to induce active participation in the tho ught of the great au thors, to increase the original literary ability of the student, and to enco urage them in original literary creation. There are plans for a magazine o f commentary and criticism to which students, teachers, and friends of the St. J ohn's program may contribute. This will be closely connected with the writing tutorials and will be under studen t editorship. Laboratories. There will be three kinds of labora· tories: one in mathematics and measure ment; one in e xperimentation; and one in the combination of scienti fie findings. The mathematical laboratory will be equipped with t he basic instrumen ts of measw·ement in all the sciences. Here students learn the mathematical principles that have been embodied in the instrumen ts, learn to operate them, and thus become familiar with the operational aspects of both mathematics and the natural sciences. T hey will also acquire the "feel" of elementary la borato1y techniques for all the sciences. The second kind of Ia bora tory will allow s tudents to repeat the crucial and canonical expet;ments in historic and contemporary science. T here are classics in e mpirical science, experiments which once un· covered principles and laid t he foundation for whole fields of investigation. Some of these go back to the lever and the balance, some of them, like Gal.ilco's experiments wi th t he inclined plane founded classical mechanics, others like Millika.n's measurement of the force o n the electron have set the themes for contemporary science. Students will study these scientific classics. At t he end of the course there will be a labo ratory for combining scien tific findings in order to investigate concrete problems of central importance. The best prob lems come fro m t.he medical scie nces, problems of the cell, problems of blood balances, p roblems of embryology. They will be in c harge of a member of the staff who is acquainted with medical sc ience. These laboratories will provide a pro per pre-professional scientific training, will illustrate the liberal arts in their liveliest contemporary practices, and will focus the past on the present for the who le course. The mathematical laboratory will carry the student through the first year, the experimental laboratory through Lhe second and third years, and the combina· torial labo ratory the last year. Schedule A given week will contain a maximum o r approximately seventeen hours of actual classroom and laborato ry work. T his will be divided as follows: �October 1972 Seminars Lectures Tutorials Language (for 6 weeks) Mathematics Writing Labo ratory Total 4 hours 2 hours 3 hours 3 hours 2 hours 2Y2 hours 16% hours St udents entering St. J ohn's College in Septem ber, 19 3 7, will be personally advised concerning t he opportunities for their education tha t this course offers, and will be invited to enter it. Old students who wish to make a new start may also choose to enter it. It can no t be taken in part as substitute for one, two, or three years that they still have to com· plete in the old curriculum. This rule a lso applies to students transferring from other institutions. Degree Requirem ents Actually this total will vary between fo urteen and seventeen hours with an average of hours for the week equal to the customary requirements of liberal colleges in this country. Admission to tlu:s course On account of the great vanat10n in preparatory training for college students, no preparation is assumed for this course beyond a minimum of read· ing, writing, and arithmetic; eventually there will be a formulation of this minimum requirement. At the start and for some time in the futu.re we shall apply the usual set of requirements for admission to St. J ohn's College, with special consideration for candi· dates of outstanding ability whose previous records may no t conform to the stated re~:,TJ.ilat ions. This co urse is no t designed for any special type of student, either better or worse than t he average. It has rigors to meet t he abilities of the best students, and it has excellences and aids for t he conventionally judged mediocre or even poor student who also should have the best e ducational material and teaching attention. The course is a single all required course, and can not be taken in part. It has within it so many degrees of freedom not frequently offered at present that no apology is needed for a formalism that is only apparent. Satisfactory work in this course for four years will be accepted as fulfillment of the req uirements for a Bachelor of Arts degree. There will be the usual semester examinations, either oral or written o r both. There will be a final comprehensive examination, oral and written, a t the end of the four years. Specifica.Uy, t he requirements are as follows : Knowledge of the contents of the required books of the course. Competence in the liberal arts. A reading knowledge in at least two foreign languages. Competence in mathematics thro ugh e lementary calculus. Three hundred hours of laboratory science. These requirements more than meet t he demands of graduate schools in this country, whether medical, legal, theological, scientific, business, or in schools of the arts and sciences. There is enough freedom in the course for the individual studen t to mee t any special requirements t hat his choice of career and graduate study may dictate. Despite daily assertio ns to the contrary, t here is no educational device for assuring wordly success to the student. It is more important to cultivate the ratio nal human powers of the individual so that armed with the intellectual and moral virtues he may hope to meet and withstand the vicissitudes of outrageous fortune . 7 �The Report of the Preside· t n All: Hark, the tower bell is sounding; Hearts with hope and fear arc bounding, Anxious voices are resounding As we congregate. Soon the tutors and the Dean Will examine Michael Green. Now his future is unseen, Will he graduate? 1971 1972 Miss With pride we come here to extol Leonard: This College and its noble goal, Which is, of course, the truth. For we are liberal artists all, Our speech is dialectical, We swoon before the truth. Chorus: Our speech is dialeclical. We swoon before the truth. Middies: T heir speech is dialectical. They swoon before the truth. So began Trial by johnny a musical parody on Gilbert and Sullivan's Trial by Jury which the Senior Class in Annapolis wrote and produced as its "senior prank" in May. Under the baton o f Thomas Ascik, '72, "Sovereign and Conductor" according to the program, the seniors amused and delighted t he entire college community, which had earlier been locked out of the seminar rooms in McDowell Hall. Two choruses, composed of "a motley collection of Johnny women" and "amorous midshipmen", responded to the lyrics of the principals. Especially uproarious was the deus ex machina appearance of a senior impersonating Mortimer Adler with his Syntopicon. To Sir Arthur Sullivan's music he sang in five notable verses his autobiography. As he said, "I'll tell you how I came to be a sage." This performance was indicative of the excellent morale which seemed to pervade the Annapolis student body. Dean Robert Goldwin reported that "the senior prank was so good-natured , so original, and so tasteful that there was a visible lifting of spirits for everyone. " Other events which followed - Reality Weekend, the Senior Dinner, and Commencement were equally auspicious and enjoyable. Both Paul Newland, the Provost, and the Dean, in commenting upon this happy state of affairs, noted that special attention will need to be paid to the matter of student morale in the forth-coming academic year because of the high enrollment. Ways must be found to alleviate the strain that is always characteristic of 8 study at St. John's, for such te nsion will be heightened by crowding in class and elsewhere on campus. Pleasantly enough , the problem of numbers will be one of the pressing problems on the Annapolis campus this fall . A fter years of struggling with insufficient enrollmen ts and with a high rate of attriti.o n, the College now confronts a record number of 370 students. The Provost and the Dean are gratified that larger numbers of students arc con tinuing at St. J ohn 's and that there have been waiting lists for the rising sophomore and senior classes since May. 1 agree with the Dean when he writes that "the College should face these new problems with a glad heart." The Santa Fe campus has not yet been confro n ted with the problem of numbers. Dean William A. Darkey reports a good year from t he standpo int of instruction, although the retention ra te of freshman students left something to be desired. It seems fruitless to speculate on the possible causes of attrition. The Annapolis campus suffered from this malady for years. It was on ly in the 1960's when capacity freshman classes were recruited and when total emollment fi nally passed the 300 figure that real improvement began. I remain optimistic that a similar effect will be seen on t he Santa Fe campus. This o f course will not occur automatically. Full freshman classes of qualified students must be sough t. As a step in this direction the Santa Fe campus will adlJlit its first January class of twenty freshme n this year. Greater numbers of students mean more variety in the composition of seminars and tutorials over the fo ur years, wider choice of social contacts, and larger poten tia l constituencies for sports and o ther extracurricular activities--hence a healthier total college situation. �Oc tober 1972 Instruction There were no major changes in the instru ctional program of the Co llege. Dean Go ldwin regretted that insufficient p rogress had been made to carry out the recommendatio n in the Dean's Statement of Edu ca· tional Policy and J>rogram o f 19 71 that ways and means be found to reduce the wo rk in the curric u· lum. At the j oint meeting of the Instructio n Co mmitlee, he ld in Annapolis in February , a pilot graduate preceptorial on the Santa Fe campus was approved, revisio n o f the Graduate Institute cun;cu· lum in Po litics and Socie ty was decided upon, and two papers o n the language program, one by Dean Darkcy and the o the r by Edward Sparro w, were considered . Further ~t te nti on to the language program remains a matter of high priority for the coming year. Under the capable leadership of the Provost, reorganization o f duties was undertaken in the Dean's o ffice in Annapo lis, so that Mr. Goldwin can devote a greater proportion of his time to instructional matters in the future. A number o f admin istrative and clerical functions were reassigned to other ofCices. Further· more , a n Advisory Committee o n ew Appointments was created to conduct preliminary correspondence, screening, and interviewing of faculty applicants. This committee, composed o f former members o f the Instruction Committee, will free the time o f the current Instruction Committee to consider instructional proposals. The Instruction Committee will still retain fu ll responsibility for all final appointments, as stipulated in the Po lity, and will also d eliberate all no n-tenure reappointmenlS and tenure appointments o n the Faculty. This year marked the termination of the so-called transfer program, whereby students entering St. J ohn's after o ne or more years at another college might earn the B. A. d egree in three years and one summer session . Last year Annapolis conducted this program for five summer seniors and Santa Fe for eleven. This past summer the figures were ten and three respectivclr. Both years the program operated at some rinanc ia loss. The conclusion to be drawn is tha t this truncated program, originally conceived as a means of stimulating enrollment, cannot attract a large enough number o f students to justify either its cost or the e xpenditure of tuto rs' time and energy. Th e Tutors Unfort unately, the College lost ano ther of its retired senior tu tors during the year. Mrs. l ola Riess Scofield, widow of Ri chard Scofield, died on March 27, 1972. Sf1e was the second wo man tutor to be appointed to the College following t he introduction of co-education in the earl y 1950's. A tutor o f keen sensitivity and insights, Mrs. Scofield was dedicated to teaching and to her students . She had retired in 19 68 after sixteen years of d evoted service to the Co llege. New tutors appointed for 1972-3 on the Annapolis campus are: Burton Blistein, who holds the A.B. and M.A. degree from the Universi ty of Chicago, taught for eight years at Shimer College, and will no w become currently Tutor and Ar tist-in-Residence; Cecil H. Fox, who earned the B.S . and M.S. degrees from T rinity University, the Ph.D. degree fro m Clark University, and the Fil.Lic. from Lund University in Sweden; Leon Kass, who has both an M.D. from the University of Chicago Medical School and a Ph.D. from Harvard University and who is this year a Guggenheim Fellow; 13ro ther Ro bert Smith, who was for many years head o f the lntegrated Program of St. Mary's Co llege in Cal ifo rnia and has ta ught before both on the Annapolis campus and in the Graduate Institute a t Santa f e; David E. Starr, who graduated from Gordon College and then received the M.A. an.d Ph.D. d egrees from 13osto n University; a nd RobertS. Zelenka, a graduate o f Ri ce University, who was awarded the M.A. degree by the j ohns Hopkins University and the Ph.D. degree by the University o f Maryland. William De Hart and E.rrol Pomerance completed their appointments and left the Co llege, while Robert Sacks, who spen t the year in J enasalem o n sabbatical leave, has decided to move west to t he Santa Fe Faculty . Laurence Berns, J oseph P. Cohen, and Ro bert B. Willia mson return from sabbatical leave, as Ro bert S. Bart, J o hn Sarkissian, David H. Stephenson, and J ames M. T o lbert begin their sabba· ticals. Gisela Berns resumes teaching following leave, while Alvin Main will be absen t on leave during the fust semester. The Annapolis Facul ty will number 5 3 for the year commencing this September. On the Santa Fe Campus there were five new appo intmen ts: Alfred J. DeGrazia III , who has the B.A. de~,'ree fro m Swarthmore College and the M.A. from Howard University; Norman S . Grabo, who holds both the M.A. and Ph.D. from the University of California at Los Angeles and who taught for five years at Michigan State University and then for nine years was Pro fesso r o f English at the University Californ ia in Berkeley; Philip LeCuyer, a graduate of the Colorado Co Uege who earned a B.A. at Merton College, Oxford University, as a Rhodes Scholar and has been a tutor in the Institute o f Social Research and Develo pment at the University o f New Mexico while working to ward a docto rate in Biology; Mary I. Robinson, a graduate of the University of Chicago, who is a Ph.D. candidate in bioche mistry at the Universi ty o f Arizona; and Alfreda L. Verratti, who graduated from St. J o hn 's College in 1966, became a Ph.D. candidate at Washingto n Unjvcrsity in philosop hy, and taught at Webste r CoJ/cgc. Last year's report omitted one late appointment, tha t of Allan Pearson, whose B.A. was earned at Boston College and A.l\1. at Boston Universit y in German language and lj terature and who taugh t for five years at the University of California at Riverside. 1\lrs. T oni Drew completed two years as a Teaching Intern and has now received a regu lar tutor's appo imment. Paul D. 9 �The College Mannick will continue fo r a third and final year as a Teaching i ntern, while Pat rick Hanson, a June gradu· ate, has been appoiJHed as Teaching Intern wi_th responsibility for organizing and maintaining equipment in the physics and chemistry laboratories. Tutors returning from sabbatical leave are Robert M. Bunker, David C. Jones, and Robert D. Sacks, while Mic hael Ossorgin and J ohn S. Steadman will take sabbtical leave during 1972-73 . Ellio tt T . Skinner will be on leave during the first semester to comple te his doctoral dissertation. Unhappily for the College, Don B. Cook, a tenured Tutor, decided to resign from the Faculty in o rder to try p reparatory sch~o l teaching. Dennis V. Higgins and Henry N. Larom left the Co llege at the e nd o f the acad emic year, since they did not receive ten ure appointments. Aaron Kirsc hbaum resigned in order to undertake the study of law. The Santa Fe Faculty will number 39 for t he year commencing this September. Th e Students On J une 4, 1972, the College awarded 28 Bachelor o f Arts degrees on t he Santa Fe campus, o ne magna cum laude and three cum laude. One week later the College awarded 39 Bachelor of Arts degrees to seniors on t he Annapolis campus, ~ three of the m magna cum laude and nine of the m cum laude. Erro l Po merance was awarded the degree of Master of Arts. At t he end of the summer Bachelor of Arts degrees were awa:rded to seven seniors in Annapolis and two seniors in Santa Fe. By happenstance the latter two were both women. They therefore constitute the smallest St. J ohn's class on record and the o nly exclusively female class to graduate from the College. Two graduating seniors received Watson T raveling Fellowships, Christel M. Stevens at Annapolis and J o nathan Krane at Santa Fe. Enrollment figures for the beginning and the end of the academic year were as fo llows : Women Men Sept. June Sept. June 71 62 54 Febmary Class Sophomores 59 J uniors 46 Seniors 26 Graduate Students I Totals 203 II 55 44 Annapolis Total Sept. June 56 125 39 39 19 9 33 37 20 98 85 45 118 20 88 81 47 200 151 155 354 355 34 32 26 17 109 58 37 22 46 28 19 12 105 107 81 47 27 262 81 59 45 29 214 Both Directors of Admissions, Michael Ham in his first year on the Annapolis campus and Gerald Zollars in his second year on the Santa Fe campus, did exceJJent j obs in the recruitment of this fall's entering classes. Comparative figures for 197-71 and 1971-72 follow: Annapolis Deposits Received Enrolled [nquirics Visitors 3,612 277 Wi thdrawn 197 1-7 2 257 202 3,383 AppUcations Accepted Rej ected 1970·71 265 18 1 60 80 125 125 319 44 Santa Fe 1970·71 241 182 50 74 128 128 83 108 106 3,867 208 1971·72 256 175 60 81 108 108 5,118 174 Once again there was a wide geograp hical distributio n of studen ts in the tw o entering classes. St. J ohn's College continues to be national rather than regional in its appeal to prospective students. (In each case the first figure is for An napolis, lhe second for Santa Fe). I 4 Florida Georgia I 6 Arkansas California 3 Colorado Connecticut 6 Mhsouri D.\.. 2 Alabama Alaska Arizona 3 15 11 2 z Neb,as)<a New Harnp. Hawaii illinois 2 Indiana 2 l owa Rhode Is. Z Kansas 2 Maine 2 0 2 2 Tennessee 2 New Jersey 9 New Mexico New York 21 Ohio Oregon Penna. 10 2 10 3 5 6 Texas Vermont Virginia 14 Wash. 2 W.Va. 2 Wisconsin 2 Wyoming 1 2 Kentucky Maryland Massachusetts Michigan Minnesota Austria I 20 4 5 2 2 3 Car'lada 14 England llongkong Japan S ingapore Turkey Totals 12 8 108 Th e Staff Freshmen 27 I I I Santa Fe Freshn'ler \ 10 49 Sophomores juniors Scnion Totals 44 25 16 134 11 128 The College suffered a real loss when J ulius Rosenberg resigned as Director of Development i11 order to accept an important position in Baltimore. !-Je had worked loyally and tirelessly for the College. Fortunately, the Directors of the Alumni Associa tion chose him to fill the unexpired term of Baker Middelton on the Board of Visitors and G overnors. Russell Leavenworth, of Fresno, Califo mia, was appointed as Interim Director of Development in J an-uary. He had been associated with the Provost and wi th Mr. Rosenberg for the preceding year and a half. T he Provost effected a number of organizational changes in the offices o f the Dean , the Registrar, and the Direc tor of Develo pment. Miss Miriam Strange, the perennial Registrar of the College, was appointed �October 1972 Co llege Archivist and Alu mni Secretary. i\lrs. Margaret l.<auck became the new Registrar. Within weeks of her appointment, however, she had to w1dergo a major opera tion from which she never recovered. Her death is mourned by the entire college communi ty. Mrs. Ch ristiana Whi te, who had moved from the Oea1 's office to the Development Office, 1 was then appointed Acting Registrar. Th01'n as Parran, Director o f Alumni Activities, was given additional duties in programmed or d eferred givi ng and certain o f his alumni duties were red istributed to o thers in the Development OHice. Mrs. Christine Co nstan tine, '72, jo ined the Development Office as an Intern. The major object ives in making all o f these changes were to diminish the administrative work in the Dean 's o ffi ce, to increase the capability and effe ctiveness o f the Development Office, and to establish a new area of fund-rajsing in a progra mmed giving o pera tion. Mrs. Chn"stine Consta11tine At its May meeting the Board institllled a pension plan for staff members whereby those who had completed at least fifteen years o f service and had altamed the age of 65 while still in the College's employ would be eligible to rece ive $7.50 per mo n th per yedr of service, the total not to exceed a maximum of $250 per month. The surviving spouse wo uld also be eligible to receive half of the pension for a period of up to ten yea rs from the date of the employee's d eath. T his plan applies primarily w o lder staff members. Yo unger and newer members will have available to them t he same retirement arrangements as faculty members. The Board also voted to make available to all staff members major medical insurance, decreasing li fe insurance, and disability insurance, in addition to the hospital and medical benefits a lready in effect. These provisions, which apply to both campuses, constitute appropriate and well-earned recogrutio n o f the fin e and dcdjcatcd service of staff members to the College over many years. Th e Libraries I n Nove mber the basement area o f t he new Tower Build ing was read y to become an auxiliary library for the Sa nta Fe campus. Mrs. Alice Whelan, the Librarian, repo rts an amazingly smooth transfer of three-quarters or the circ ula ting book collection, as well as all records and tapes. The new facility is serving the collc~c community well under the immcdjate supervisio n of Mrs. Beth Floyd. T he major acquisition proj ect of the year was an effort to bwld up secondary sources re lating to classic Greek and Roman authors. Once again the Library Associates Committee, under the able chairmanship of Richard Stem, made notable contributions to the Library, largely thro ugh its successful Book and Author Luncheons: The Art of Manl1ind ( 16 volumes), Henry Fielding's complete works ( 16 volumes), Hegel's Samtliche IVerke (26 volumes), Th e International Encyclopedw of the Social Sciences ( 17 volumes), Th e Medieval Scie11ce Series (1 4 volumes), Tudor Church Music ( l l volumes), and a collection of classic French drama, recorded by Lc Thea tre Na_ tional Po pulaire and La Comedic Francaise. Charlotte Fle tcher, t he Librarian on the Annapolis campus, reports a new peak in service to students and t u tors. The re was a rifty per cent increase in the books borrowed by students during the year. This reflects an impetus which began with t he beautiful renovated building a nd with the improvement in the book collectio n made possibk by T itle lJ gran ts. Major purchases include the /<."ncyclop edw Judaica, a new 20-volume editio n o f Hegel in German, Wallis' Opera Ma tlt errwtica , and a 17 68 edition or John Locke in four vo lumes. Bo th li braries find that the spiraling cost of new books res ults in a greatly decreased purchasing po wer or the annual book budgets. It seems clear that increased funds must be made available in the future. The Graduate Institute The 1972 sessio n o f t he Graduate Institute enro Ued 140 stude n ts. At the end o f the summer eighteen received the Mas ter of Arts d egree, bringin~ the to tal number of Institute graduates to 75. During the rruddle four weeks o f the session, sixteen inner-city high school students from Albuquerque, 11 �The College Baltimore, New York and Washin ~ton_ live~ . on campus pursuing a program of stt~d•es m pol!t•cal philosophy conducted by three Institute alumm and two St. J ohn's College seniors. According to the testimonials of most of these students, and the judsments of the staff, t~ey wer~ enormously an_d positively affected by the Ideal of m tellectual pursUit to which they were exposed. It is our hope that as a side-benefit from this program the College ~ill be able to reach more capable Blacks and H1spanos interested in enrolling as freshmen; at least three members of this first group expressed such interest. CarroU Barrister House immediately to the north. The infirmary and a colJegc guest suite are located on the first floor; the upper floor contains apartments for an assistant dean and for the College Nurse. A construction contract was awarded to Stehle, Beans and Bean, Inc., in December at a figure of $262,058. The new structure is largely the gift of Mrs. J ohn T . Harrison of Greens Farms, Connecticut, as a memorial to her late husband, J ohn T. Harrison, '07, for many years a member of the board of Visitors and Governors. The Alumni On December 4 , 197 1, a ribbon was cu t by Mr. and Mrs. J ohn Murchison, of Dallas, Texas, officially opening the new Tower Building at Santa Fe. Experience of the first ten months confirms the value of having centralized all administrative o ffices and of having freed from office use temporarily occupied classroom and dormitory space. The cost of the Tower Building, i11 cluding reserves for some furnishings still on order, was $582,932, all of which was fully funded. The Alumni Association completed another active year under the presidency of William R. Tilles '59. Homecoming was held in conjunction with the 275th Anniversary celebration of the Co llege wi th a large number o f alumni in attendance. At the dinner that evening alumni Awards of Merit were made to William B. Athey '32, Edward J . Dwyer '30, and Paul Mellon x'44. Dr. Eugene N. Cozzolino, '29, and J ohn D. Oostcrhoul, '51, were elected as Alumni representatives on the Board of Visitors and Governors for three-year terms. As already noted, J ulius Rosenberg, '38, was later chosen to fill the vacancy caused by the resignation of J . S. Baker Middelton, ' 38, who retired from business and moved to New Hampshire. Under Mr. Middelto n's conscientious chairmanship, an alumni committee gave consideration to the desirability of changing the name of the College so as to avoid confusion with church-related institutions and to re fl ect more accurately the College's program. A survey was cond ucted which showed that a large majority of alumni strongly favored continuing the St. J ohn's name. Both F ac ulties similarly expressed themselves. The Board voted at its May meeting to abandon any though t of a possible name ch ange .. Again this year alumni served the College m a variety of ways. Counseling sessions with seniors were held on graduate schools, Jaw schools, business and government. Interviews with prospective students were conducted in many parts of the country. In the area of fund- raising a total of $44,840 was received in ann ual giving, including a bequest of $12,000 fro m the estate of the late Vincent W. McKay, x'46. The su m of $306,890 was received from the estate of Richard H. Elliott, '17, thus establishing the permanent endowment for the Richard Hammond Elliott Tutorship. IIamson Health Center Desi~ned by J ames Wood Burch and William H. Kirby, J r., the new two·story Harrison Heal th Center on the Annapolis campus will be completed in time for the faU term. The building is in the shape of a Greek cross; its configuration, its red brick walls, and its slate roof blend harm oniously with the Charles 12 Tower Building Holzman Music and Fine Arts Center Ground was broken on August 23, 1972, for the Holzman Music and Fine Arts Center, a wing of the future library, to be located just south of the Peterson Student Center on the Santa Fe campus. Designed by William R. Buckley, the new structure will contain two music seminar rooms, a music library, and two practice rooms or offices on the first floor; a large listening lounge, an office, and a fin e arts studio on the second floor, and six pract ice rooms, a ceramics studio and mechanical equipment on the ground floor. The construction contract in the amount of $374,500 was awarded to J ohn C. Cornell, Jnc. of Clovis, New Mexico. Occupancy is planned for the late spring. Principal donor of the building is J ac Holzman, x'52, of New York City, a Visitor and Governor of the College, who is m aking the gift in memory of his grandparents. T he Kresge 'Foundation, of Detroit, Michigan, has helpfully voted a grant of $75,000 toward the cost of the building. A bequest from the late Miss Flora Conrad of Srulta Fe, an anonymous pledge from a Board member, and several smaller gifts accoun t for the balan ce of the financing. The Campuses Under the guiding hand of Arthur Kungle, '67, flower beds bloomed this year in many areas of the Annapolis campus. Mr. Kungle's horticultural knowfcdge and enthusiasm attracted many students who worked long hours planting and weeding. The campus has never looked better, nor have studen ts ever taken more in terest in its ap pearance. The Provost calls Mr. Ku ngle's dedication and service invaluable and speaks for the college community in expressing gratitude. At �October 1972 1 the same time a tree conditioning program has been undertaken and new trees have been planted to replace those which had to be removed as potential dangers to life and limb. At Santa Fe the College was successful in preserving its clear and unobstructed vista to the north. Upon earnest entreaty, the developer who proposed to buy and seek rezoning for twelve acres of land immediately adjacent to the campus withdrew the option to buy and the request for rezoning. It is hoped that friends will now purchase the property and give it to the College. In March the residence of the late Witter Bynner was deeded to the College. Through the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Dean Haggard a loan has been advanced to recondition this property and make it suitable as an off. campus residence for a dozen students. St. john 's Film During the year the San.ta Fe campus commis· sioned Mr. Carroll Williams to produce a short twelve· minute color-sound film on the College. The film will be ready for distribution this fall. It is expected to help materially with the recruitment of students, particularly since the Admissions Office plans activity in the relatively new territory of the mid-West. The film will be shown to teachers, counsellors, prospective students, and to alumni groups and prospective donors as well. The seminar sequence in particular seems to be well done. Finances In a year when many colleges and universities have experienced severe financial difficulties St. John's College on both its campuses fared surprisingly well. The Annapolis campus closed the year with a small deficit of $11,036, all of which was met from a reserve fund. Expenditures amounted to $1,991,859, exceeding the budget by $41,000. Total revenues came to $1,980,823. Th.is surpassed expectations by $30,000. The Santa Fe Campus was even more fortunate, since it completed the year with a modest surplus of $3,346. Total revenues came to $1,783,916, as compared with expenditures and appropriations o{ $1,780,570. Savings of $75,978 were effected on the budget which was adop ted a year ago. A considerable part o f this was in financial aid to students. It is college policy to ask sch.olarship students to use their own funds during the first semester and to apply grants during the second semester. This saving there· fore resulted from scholarship students who left the Co llege in the middle of the year and therefore did not benefit fully from funds awarded to them. As .Burchenal Ault, Vice President in Santa Fe, correctly states, ru1 institution's budget is one of its clearest statements of intention and its most pttrposeful and effective evaluations of priorities. The budgets for the coming year are the largest in the College's history, $2,192,508 on the Annapolis campus and $1,949,080 on the Santa Fe campus. The new faculty salary scale rangin& from just under $10,000 for a new tutor twenty-stx years of age to a maximum of $19,500 represents a needed upward adjustment in compensation. Furthermore, removal of any limitat ion on the number of annual service increments will do greater justice to the more senior members of the Faculty. At the same time administrative salaries and expenses have been held to previous levels as far as possible. Increased student fees of $3,900 have been offset in part by major increases in financial aid to undergraduates. On J anuary 1, 1971 the College's investment portfolio was placed under the supervision of T. Rowe Price and Associates, Inc., of Baltimore, Maryland. By instruction of the Finance Committee the portfolio was divided into two parts, one for growth and one for income. As of J une 30, 1972, the endowment principal totaled $9,676,130 in market value as compared with a book value of $8,702,149. The growth fund had a total accomplishment index of 147.3 with an annual yield of 1.7%; the income fund a total accomplishment index of 111 with an annual yield of 6.5%. The College continued to adhere to the total yield concept drawing down 6% of the average market value of the endowment fund over the past three years. As of July l, 1972 the Santa Fe campus placed $130,330 in the investment pool at a unit value of $11.7399. Public Relations During the year an an hoc committee was appointed to study the publication, The College. Members were Russell Leavenworth, Director of Development, Deborah Traynor, Robert L. Spaeth, Edward M. Wyatt, Tutors, and Mrs. John Oosterhout, '55, speaking for the alumni. As a result of the com1mttee's study publication of The College became an in-house operation upon an offset press purchased by the College. Jeffrey Sinks, '73, is in charge of the new facility which will be used by the Admissions Office and other offices as well. The cost of pub· lishing The College annually has been reduced from $ 16,000 to $5,000 as a result of this change. Much of the labor cost is expended for student aid. During the year ahead the ad hoc committee will continue as a permanent editorial committee. Mr. Spaeth succeeds Mr. Wyatt as editor. The Caritas Society and the Annapolis Friends of St. J ohn's continued their activities on behalf of the College. The Development Office provides coordination and clerical help to these organizations. The most noteworthy event of the past year was an ail-day symposium on "Women in Focus through the '70's," conducted jointly by the Caritas Society and the Annapolis Chap ter of the American Association of University Women. The Key Memorial was filled 13 �The College for the morning and afternoon sessions which featured such speakers as: De Barbette Blackington, Director of the International institute for Women Studies; J ane Howard, author and LIFE writer; Barbara Mik ulski, Baltimore City Councilwoman; Anais Nin, author of D£ar£es: and Marlo Thomas, actress. In Santa Fe the Boards of Associates from Albuquerque, Los Alamos, and San ta Fe met periodically to gain new understandings about the College. Under Mr. J\ult's leadership an Indian Table was instituted whereby interested persons from outside and within the College met monthly for dinner to hear a speaker on L ndian cuiLUre. A successio n of interesting sho ws in the gallery o n the balcony of the dining hall attracted much local interest_ Among these were the work of Fritz Holder, a jo int exhibition by Peter Hurd and his wife, Henriette Wyeth Hurd, Public Architecture in the Southwest by John Gaw Meem, and the Lessing Rosenwald Collection of 15th and 16th century prints by Albrecht Durer, and others on loan from the National Gallery of Art. The College and Community Chamber Orchestra gave two concerts, one conducted by Henry Schuman of 1 ew York City, who spen t a week in residence on campus. These activities and the regular Friday evening lectures and concerts have won for the College a firm place in the affections of the community. 275th Anniversary Fund At the end of the first year i11 the three-year Anniversary Fund campaign, the half-way point has been reached. New girts and pledges received since the drive opened J uly 1. 1971, have been less than hoped for since they amounted to only $1,560,311. The Annapolis campus sent out over a hundred proposals to foundations with very little success. Both campuses have been slow in organizational efforts, but hopefully city solicitation committees will begin active work this fa ll. Against its campaign goal of $5,000,000, the Annapolis campus has now raised $1,810,1 51; against its goal o r $10,000,000, the Santa Fe campus has now raised $5,568,345 . Gifts and Grants During the year a total of $753,256 was received in new gifts and pledge payments on the Annapolis campus and $1,115,393 on the Santa Fe campus. The two charts below show sources of these gifts and grants and the purposes to which they were applied: A nnapoli.s Donors Board Faculty, Staff, Students National Committee Alumni Paren ts Friends Fo undations Corporations Government Purposes Unrestricted Library Scho larships Graduate Institute Special Projects Endowment Plant Debt repayment jeffrey Sinks {'73 ), Editor of the Collegian and Manager of the St. John's Press. 10,277 3.604 394,732 3 ,095 34,264 106,850 26,934 173,500 $ 753,256 $ 205,155 150 2,665 19,598 352,259 173,429 s 753,256 Sante Fe $ 734,704 8,880 14,738 2,232 43,338 92,351 160,710 13,380 45,050 $ 1,115,393 $ 620,982 6,584 48,109 104,670 74,948 155,100 105,000 $ 1,115,393 The College is deeply grateful to all of its alumni and friends, to corporations and foundations, and to faculty, staff and Board members, who by their gifts and grants have demonstrated commitment to St. John's College and confidence in the future of this exemplar of the liberal arts upo n its two campuses. Once again in the year ahead we will need to loo k to these same friends - and to new ones - for something over a million dollars, a quarter of the total to balance the eastern budget ru1d three-quarters to underwrite the western. 14 l �October 1972 Television Seminars Dean Go. dwin devoted considerable time during l the academic year to conducting a series of fifteen one-hour television seminars. Three students partici· pated regularly, Mrs. Christine Constantine, '72, Michael Jordan, • 73, and Steven Sedlis, '73. J oAnn Morse, '74 was an altern ate. For each seminar there was an invited guest. For example, Alexander Bickel of the Yale Law Schoo. participated in the seminar ! on Plato's Crito; Robert Novak, the columnist, in the seminar on Aristotle's Politics; Senator Charles Mathias in the seminar on The Prince; Huw Wheldon of the British Broadcasting Corporation in the seminar on As You Lihe Tt; Senator Charles Percy in the seminar on The Federalist No. 1 0; Admiral james Calvert of the United States Naval Academy in the seminar on Billy Budd; and Representative Abner Mikva in the seminar o n the political thought of Abraham Lincoln. The project was financed by the Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting with partial assistance thro ugh a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. The video tapings are to be shown over educational television channels this fall and winter. The Public Broadcasting Service Library has accepted the entire series for national distribu tion. The Dean says that in his opinion none of t he programs disgrace the College and that some are really excellent examples of good seminar discussion. He notes that only time will tell whether the efforts required to produce the seminars were justified. The academic year that was concluded in June was the thirty-fifth since inauguration of the present curriculum at St. John's College. The fall of 1972 is a far cry from that of 193 7 when less than sixty freshmen enrolled on a bankrupt and dilapidated campus in Annapolis. By contrast St. J o hn's College today is a nourishing enterprise, which has expanded to a second campus in the Southwest without sacri· ficing the integrity of its educational program or the sense of dose community which animates t he Col· lege. From less than 150 students in 1937, enrollment has grown to over 650, the Faculty from some twenty to nearly a hL mdred. Graduates of St. John's are indeed fulfilling the goal of the 1784 Charter by "discharging the various offices and duties of life, both civil and religious, with usefulness and reputation,..." No longer can this college be termed an experiment, as it was in the late thirties. The concept an.d practice of liberal education at St.John's College have earned for trus small but venerable institution a respected place upon the American educational scene. Richard D. Weigle President Santa Fe, New Mexico September 1, 1972 15 [ �1/rl 0\ St. J ohn's College Annapolis, Maryland Comparative Balance Sheet, July 1, 1971 - June 30, 1972 ASSETS LIABILTfiES AND FUND BALANCES CURRENT FUNDS 1971 s 50,830 Unrestricted Cash. ln\'estrnrots ·At Cost Account. Receh'llble Due from St. John's College Santa Fe Other Receivables Dderred Expenses Bookstore Inventory 1972 s 44 ,026 157 4,316 17,878 1,503 442 25,514 $100,640 Restricted Cash loans Receivable Investments- At Cost 157 5,094 16,769 14,152 19,376 26,595 $126,169 $317,331 840 12,169 $330,340 S430,980 Total Current Funds LOAN FUNDS Cash Student Loans Receivable National Direct Studeut Loans $ 7,014 840 278,230 $286.084 5,893 2,031 146,290 s 13,011 $154,214 ENDOWMENT FUNDS Cash Friedland Student Loans Faculty Home Loam Santa Fe Campus Note Other Investment Cash Account Investments - At Cost 5,680 6,759 141,221 1,375,625 $ 225,992 6,578,456 $ 30,354 6,288 159,117 1,265,594 1,0 10 79,354 7,161,370 $8,335,474 s 8,703,097 $ ~740 PLANT FUJ\'DS Cash Total Plan t Funds Total Funds 64,363 375,677 5,194,327 394,220 325 79,158 375,677 5,373.537 394,221 6,028,587 $ 6,222,918 $ 14,949,255 $ 15,513,044 Investments ·At Cost Land and Campus Improvement Buildings Equipment - s Restricted Fw1cl Balllnces Due to Other Funds s 19,478 $ 23,583 230 56,279 31,487 14,590 $126,169 44,249 2~,453 13,460 $ 100,640 s 329,843 497 s 330,340 s $ 430,980 $ 412,253 IS7,~90 $ 159,191 15,585 $ 286,084 Total Current Funds LOAN FUNDS Federal Ad\'llnces for NOS Loans Fund Balances S 286,084 $174,776 731 161,034 $ Total Endowment Funds Unrestricted AccountS Payable Due to Other Funds Student Advance lkposits Deferred Income Reserve (or Future Operations 641 2,253 $ Total Loan Funds CURRENT FUNDS 16,624 $ 154,214 s ENDOWMENT FUNDS Principal, Unrenricted as to Income Principal, Restricted as to Income Reservation of Profits- Sale of Securities Unexpetldcd Income $ 7,187,807 958,820 186,38 ] 2,466 s 7,530,05 7 Total Endowment FWJds $ 8,335,4 74 $ 8,703,097 Total Loan Funds PLA!-:T FUNDS Due to Other Funds Investment in Plant Unexpended Plant Funds $ 1.917 !>,964.224 62.446 Total Plant Funds s Total f'unds $ 14,949,255 6,028,587 174,776 972,207 199,885 948 $ 6,143,435 79,483 s 6,222,918 s 15,513,044 �IW ...:=,, "'- -~ St.John's College Santa Fe, New Mexico Comparative Balance Sheet, July 1, 1971 - June 30,1972 ASSETS LIABfLITIES AND FUND BALANCES CURRENT FUNDS 197 1 Unrestricted Cash Investments • At Cost Accounts Receivable Due from Other Funds Prepaid Expenses Bookstore Inventory $ - s 12,740 1,000 144,064 26,402 $169,125 s s s $ 62,039 s $ 207,125 $ 44,000 2,443 15,596 Total Endowment Funds s 207,125 $210,910 ENDOWMENT FUNDS Cash Receivables Investments - At Cost $ 184,206 $210,910 Total Life Estate Funds Total Funds s 355,778 3,668 1,000 139,782 24,675 LIFE ESTATE FUNDS Due from Other Funds -..J $ 42,122 174,388 $216,510 s Total Loan Funds .... - $391,831 Total CuJTent Funds Bond Sinking Fund Investments Land and Campus Improvements Buildings Construction in Progress Equipment and Furnishings Library Books Total Plant Funds 38,480 16,340 11 ,747 .51,072 21,629 s 139,268 $238,505 3,226 $241,731 LOAN FUNDS Cash United Student Aid Deposit National Direct Student Loans Other Student Loans Investments s 5,084 .59,718 34,956 27,236 23,106 $1.50,100 Restricted Cash Investments- At Cost PLANT FUNDS Cash 1972 $ 135,757 91,286 185,000 136,774 315,495 4,874,412 284,743 436,757 77,452 6,401,919 7,235,824 9,881 - 125,876 s 1,038 18.5,226 154,479 314,024 5,403,448 - 472,567 116,969 6,647,751 s s 7,530,617 CURRENT FUNDS 1971 Unrestricted Note Payable Accounts Payable Due to Annapolis Campus Due to Other Funds Deferred Income Reserve for Future Operations 1972 s s Restricted Fund Balances Due to Other Funds .s 10,000 15,984 16,769 19,631 75,987 897 $ 139,268 13,627 17,878 20,512 93,815 4,268 150,100 s 216,510 $ 222,740 18,99 1 $ 241 ,731 $ 391,831 Total Current Funds - $ 216,510 $ 355,778 LOAN FUNDS Federal Advances for NDS Loans College Loan Fund Balance Due to Other Funds $126,714 29,394 13,017 s 155,600 Total Loan Funds $ 169,125 s 184,206 $ 210,910 $ 207,125 $210,910 $ 207 ,1 25 $ 62,039 $ 135,757 s $ 135 ,757 LIFE ESTATE FUNDS Liabilitv 10nder A!(!'Cements To tal Life Estate Funds ENDOWMENT FUNDS Fund Balances Total Endowment Funds PLANT FUNDS Note Payable Loan Payable to t\nnapolis Campus Dormitory Bon<is • Series 1964 Series 1966 Due to Other Funds Net Investment in Plant Unexpended Plant Funds Dormitory Bond Sinking Fund 28,606 - 62,039 $ $ 1,375,625 838,000 855,000 199,399 2,722,836 274,285 136,i74 2,154 I, 265,594 824,000 840,000 187.494 3,187,766 186,264 154,479 Total Plant Funds s 6,401,919 $ 6,647,751 Total Funds $ 7,235,824 $ 7,530,617 �ST.JOHN'S COLLEGE Annapolis. Maryland Santa Fe , New Mexico CONDENSED STATEMENTS OF REVENUE AND EXPENDITURES Fiscal Years Ended June 30, 1971 and 1972 ANNAPOLIS 1970·7 1 197 1·72 REVENUES Educational and General Tuition Endowment Income Gifts and Grants Graduate Institute Gmnts State of Maryland Grants Student financial Aid Miscellaneous T otals Auxiliary Enterprises Bookstore Dining Hall Dorrnito ries Totals Total Revenues s 784,578 418,754 186,190 $ 902,155 414,987 193,329 87,464 18,242 $ 1,495,228 SANTA FE 1970·71 1971·72 s 625,291 2,833 554.932 89,445 $640,126 !>,122 673,744 90,!>84 23,.5 00 87, 11 7 16,465 Sl,550,416 40,713 3 1,573 $1,344,787 45 ,324 34,890 $ 1,489,790 47 ,798 161,390 139,7 80 $ !118,968 48,486 166,03 1 128,773 $ 343,290 33,875 140,260 125,355 $ 299,490 36,147 137,163 120,8 16 $ 294,126 $1,844,196 $1 ,980,823 $1,644,277 $1,783,916 191,57 1 183 ,392 750,562 $ 28!1,220 145,130 817,361 $ 213,14·8 145,674 566,277 151,110 27,160 186.022 $1,289,391 EXPENDITURES Educational and General Administrative General Instruction Graduate Institute S tudent Activities Opemtion & Maintenance Totals Auxiliary Enteq>rises Book Store Dining Hall Dormitories (Debt SeMce) Totals 15,391 332,652 $1,473,568 - 19,194 338,306 $1,608,211 $ 205,283 159,586 5 13,77 1 11 7,688 25,667 160,013 $1,182,008 s 46,127 150.259 $ 49,550 148.950 $ $ 196,386 s 198,500 s $ 174,242 s 185,148 s 174,242 s 185,148 s $ ~iiscellaneous Student financial Aid Federal Programs Capital Appropriations Totals Total Expenditures Exoess Revenue or (Expenditures) 18 - $ 51,844,196 34,1 4 1 103,383 109,302 246,826 $ 17 1,170 17,094 22,9 12 211.176 33,97!\ 89,889 109,303 233,167 s s 189,348 16,369 52,295 $ 258,0 12 $ 1,991,859 $1,640,010 $1,780,570 ( $1 1,036) $ $ 4,267 3,346 �-1'---·ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE Annapolis, Maryland PERMANENT ENDOWMENT FUNDS,jWle 30, 1972 Gift of Donor TUTORSHIP ENDOWMENTS: Richard Hammond Elliott, 1917 Andrew W. MeUoo Addison E. Mullikin, 1895 Arthur de Talma Valk, 1906 1.0 - $ 306,865 $ 1,989,953 150,216 $2,447,034 2,679,846 500,000 150,000 $3,329,846 - SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS: Annapolis Self Help 15,000 $ George M. Austin, 1908 25,000 WalterS. Baird, 1930 5,000 Chicago Regional 3,070 Class of 1897 8,672 Class of 1898 87,933 Dr. Charles Cook 13,705 George E. Cunniff m, 1930 135 Faculty 32,463 john T. Harrison·, 1907 25,025 Hillh ouse High School, 1927 9,667 Richard H. Hodgson, 1906 150,250 Alfred and Ruth Houston, 1906 42,787 Houston Regional 500 Jesse H. Jones and Mary Gibbs jones 36,000 Robert E. and Margaret Larsh Jones, 1909 31,533 Arthur E. and Hilda Combs Landers, 1930 5,445 22,685 Massachusetts Regional Philip A. Myers U, 1938 19,362 Oklahoma Regional 26,000 Thomas Parran, 1911 6,165 Pittsburgh Regional 560 Reader's Digest Foundation 12,500 Clifton A. Roeh1e 7,056 Murray J oe1 Rosenberg 3,356 Hazel Norris and J. Graham Shannahan 1908 3,664 Clarence Stryker 3,668 Friedrich]. Von Schwerdtncr 1,552 $ 598,753 - A . W. Mellon Foundation Matching Gift ALUMNI AND MEMORIAL ENDOWMENTS Granville Q. Adams, 1929 $ 1,100 6,125 Charles Edward Athey, 1931 William C. Baxter, 1923 25 Drew H. Beatty, 1903 600 Or. William Brewer, 1823 125 Frederick W. Brune, 1874 855 Benjamin Duvall Chambers, 1905 2,638 Henry M. Cooper, J r., 1934 1,000 Helen C. and George Davidson, Jr., 1916 21,025 Walter I. Dawkins, 1880 58,683 Robert F.Duer,Jr. 1921 3,365 Dr. Philip H. Edwards, 1898 1,135 $ 15,000 25,000 Total Fund Principal $ 306,865 2,679,846 2,489,953 300,216 $5,776,880 s 3,070 - 135 2,359 20,025 7,367 150,250 2,500 500 36,000 - 22,685 9,000 26,000 - - 560 - - 3,413 $ $ 323,864 - $ - - - s 200 125 507 1,000 - 335 985 30,000 50,000 5,000 6,140 8,672 87,933 13,705 270 34,822 45,050 17,034 300,500 45,287 1,000 72,000 31,533 5,445 45,370 28,362 52,000 6,165 1,120 12,500 7,056 3,356 3,664 7,081 1,552 922,61 7 1,100 6,125 25 800 250 1,362 2,638 2,000 21,025 58,683 3,700 2,120 joseph W. fastncr,Jr., 1960 2,000 AUen Lester fowler, 1915 500 Edna G. and Roscoe E. Grove, 1910 16,556 Charles W. Hass, 1927 40 Dr. Amos F. Hutchins, 1906 658 Clarence T.johnson, 1909 100 ClifJord L.johnson, 1911 100 He.len B. Jones and Robert O.jones,l916 18,357 jonathan D. Korshin, 1966 200 Oliver M. Korshin, 1963 200 5,140 Dr. W. Oscar LaMotte, 1902 23,223 John H. E. Legg, 1921 William Lentz, 1912 1,020 Leola B. and Thomas W. Ligon, 1916 5,000 Harrison McAlpine, 1909 325 Vincent W. McKay, 1946 9,000 Robert F. Maddox, 1876 650 12,219 The Rev. William L. Mayo, 1899 Ridgely P. Melvin, 1899 100 WiUiam S. MorseU, 1922, Athletic Fund 5,000 John Mullan, 1847 10,000 Walter C. Mylander,Jr., 1932 5,133 M. Keith Neville, 1905 1,000 Dr. john 0. Neustadt, 1939 1,109 Blanchard RandaU, 1874 851 Susan Irene Roberts, 1966 652 Leroy T. Rohrer, 1903 100 Harrison Sasscer, 1944 4,551 Charles H. Schoff, 1889 500 28,633 Henry F. Sturdy, 1906 The Rev. Enoch M. Thompson, 1895 3,000 John T. Tucker, 1914 2,500 125 Dr. RobertS. C. Welch, 1913 Willis H. White, 1922 625 $ 255,843 LECTURESHIP ENDOWMENTS Fund for Tomorrow $ Clare Eddy and Eugene V. Thaw, 1947 $ UBRARY ENDOWMENTS Alumni Memorial Book fund Benwood Foundation Mary Safford Hoogcwerff Library Fund EUen C. Murphy Henry H. and Cora Dodson Sasscer Newspaper Fund E1ma R. and Charles D. Todd Clara B. Weigle j ack \V' tlen Fou.odation in Memory of Murray Joel Rosenberg $ - 633 - 7,563 - - - - 1,020 - - $ $ 325 -100 5,000 10,000 1,000 - - 330 100 500 3,000 $ 125 625 33,973 3,000 10,900 13,900 $ 3,000 355 25,000 31,683 560 1,500 $ 1,000 82,294 22,872 5,247 28,119 2,000 1,000 16,556 40 1,291 100 100 25,920 200 200 5,140 23,223 2,040 5,000 650 9,000 650 500 - $ 5 19,500 $ J - 400 1,500 $ 10,000 20,000 5,133 2,000 1,109 1,181 652 200 4,551 1,000 28,633 6,000 2,500 250 1,250 J 289,816 s - J 12,~~ 3,000 25,000 1,500 19,500 1,196 $ LOAN FUND ENDOWMENTS George Friedland John David Pyle, 1962 - 46,400 20,000 1,470 21,470 6,000 10,900 16,900 355 50,000 31,683 960 3,000 1,500 39,000 1,196 1,000 $ 128,694 $ 42,872 6,717 $ 49,589 0 (") ..,. 0 cr ,.. .... - <0 -...1 1\:) �N 0 PRIZE ENDOWMENTS Philo Sherman Bennett Floyd Hayden James R. McClintock, 1965 Mrs. Blair T. Scott Kathryn Milroie Stevens Millard Tydings Amos W. W. WoodCO<>k SANTA F E ENDOWMENT FUNDS 308 77 H7 518 1,250 1,000 2,000 5,61 0 $ $ $ - Reservation of ProfitsSale of Securities Total Endowment Principal $ $ 25 $ 1,000 1,025 $ OTHER ENDOWMENTS Hn-tha S. and jesse L. Adams Concert Fund $ 60,000 George A. Bingley Memorial l~und 17.600 Scott Buchanan Memorial Fund 5,770 10,000 H.A.B. Ow1ning Memorial fund Monterey Mackey Memorial Fund 600 Emlly Boyce Mackubin Fund 75,192 124,349 Kate Moo re Myen Landscaping Fund Adolph W. Schmidt Fund 15,628 Richard Sco field Memorial Fund 1,345 Daniel E. and Jessie N. Weigle Memoria.! Fund 2,500 19,325 Victor Zuckcrkandl Me morial fund 206,112 Alurnni Endowment Fund 526,404 General Endowment Fund $1,064,825 Total Andrew W. Mellon Foundation Grants - 60,000 17,600 5,770 10,000 600 75,192 124,349 15,628 1,345 - - 186,309 - s 246,309 s 2.500 19,325 39 2,421 526,-w4 ",311 ,1 34 4,005,887 Graduate Institu te Helen & Everett Jones Scholarships fund Public Scnice Co. of ~ew Mexico Readers Digest Fou ndation Scholarship Fund Nina Otero Warren Memorial Schol:ushii>S Fund General 199,885 s 8,702,150 s 162 31),000 1,000 7,500 1,875 2,103 s 42,640 Library Endowments Emlcn Davies Memoria l Angeline Eaton Memorial Nina Garson Memorial Edith B. King Memorial Brad ley Skeele Memorial Dr. C('Orge Stewart Memorial Duane L. Peterson ~icmorial Wi nfield Townly Scolt Memorial Clara B. Weigle Memorial Victor Zuckerkandl Other Memorisls Life Memberships Genera l 4,005,887 $ s Scholarship Endowments $ 120,000 - 199,885 $4,696,263 $ 308 102 457 518 1,250 1,000 5,000 6.635 s s 1,118 1,150 2,000 500 550 500 800 2,499 600 4,200 13,728 13,005 748 41,398 Other Endowrnenu Henry Austin Poetry Prize Fund Fie tcher Catro n Memorial Margo Dawn Gerber Prize fund Eliubetb R. & Alvin C. Graves Memorial .Margaret Milliken Hatch Memorial Dr. Plorence Kluckhohn Frank Patania Memorial E. l. "Tommy" Thompson ~iemorial Millard E. Tyings Pri7.c Fund Claro B. Weigle Memorial jessie N. & Dan E. Weigle Memorial General Total Endowment funds s s 4.500 1,400 1,14 1 8,881 25,000 1,000 3,340 1.920 1,000 3,600 2,500 306 54,588 $138.626 �'lln Interview with J3ar6ara f:eonaro R obert Spaeth, Editor of The College, interviewed Miss Barbara Leonard in September, 1972. ROBERT SPAETH: Miss Leonard, you've been a Tutor at St. J ohn's for 20 years. Yo u came when the first girls came, when St. John's became co-educational in 1951. Has co-education proved to be a success at St.John's? BARBARA LEONARD: Well, I would say that it certainly has. There were 24 girls in that entering class - they came in as Freshmen. At the present time almost half the student body, or close to 180 students, are women. I think if you check the records of the graduating class, a good share of the honors have been earned by the women students. In the last te n years th e silver medal offered by the Board of Visitors and Governors to the Senior who has the highest standing has been awarded five ti mes to women. SPAETH: T here had becn only men at St. J ohn'sfor many , many years. Was there a period of adjustme nt when the men became used to having girls in class and on the campus? LEONARD: There was an adjustment in the first year just getting used to having them around, having them in the dining hall. It wasn't a problem in the Freshman class since it was a co-educational group that came in. It was a problem for the sophomores, juniors and seniors. The girls who came in were mainly older ones; some of them were wives of stu· dents who were already in college so that they had had some contact with the program. There was obviously more adj ustment, I think, on the part of the men than there was on the part of the women. SPAETH : Do you remember very well the first class that included women? LEONARD: Yes, I do, very much so- All o f us, with the exception of the married ones, lived in Randall. 1 had two rooms there. Three of th e married ones lived with their husbands in the housing units near the 21 �The College location of the present Heating Plant. The wife of one of the present Tutors was a member of that class, Mrs. Kutler (Emily Jane Martin); in fact her husband was a sophomore at that time. Mr. Sacks, who is a Tutor, was also a sophomore al that time. Barbara Brunner, one of the first women, is now Mrs. J ohn Oosterhout, the wife of an alumnus who is also a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors. There were three wives of students; one was a regis· tered nurse, Lydia Aston, who after she graduated can1e back and was College Nurse for two or three years. There were several who had two or three years at other colleges such as Barnard and Swarthmore, and there were - a minority, T think- who entered right out of high school. One married lady, Ruth Barron, was in her mid-forties. SPAETH: Have the girls in the classes of the 60's and 70's been different from those early classes? LEONARD : Well, that's a hard question to answer because we've always had some older girls in all the entering classes. The younger ones coming in from high school now are more mature in many ways than students coming into the College 20 years ago would have been. They have been exposed to more things, have had more varied experiences than students used to have at the high school level; things that used to be encountered first in college are now encountered in high schools and junior high schools. SPAETH: You were also the first woman Tutor at St.John's. Was there any adjustment necessary on the faculty's part? LEONARD: Well, I can't speak for the rest of the facu lty. I had a lot of adjusting to do. It wasn't such a problem adjusting to being in a male environment because I had done my graduate work on a men's campus and had broken in as the first woman &rradu· ate assistant on the men's campus at the University of Rochester. My adjustment came in getting used to trying to learn E uclid and Greek, teach biology with a new approach - the so-called St. John's approach and co-leading a seminar with Jacob Klein . This was all rather difficult since I had not been in contact with anything but zoology since I had graduated quite a few years before, so that I was forced to think in areas that had not been my primary concern. SPAETH: It's also true that you came not only as a T utor, but as an Assistant Dean, which means that you immediately plunged into all sorts of academic and non-academic problems of students. You have continued to be an Assistant Dean for these 20 years; could you say why you've persisted in dealing with 22 - difficult problems for that long? LEONARD: Well, I must admit that sometimes wonder myself. However, I do enjoy working with the students and I think the relationship as Assistant Dean and Tutor is the ideal relationship. I certainly wouldn't want to be an Assistant Dean if I weren't actively engaged in teaching. The students, in addition to experiencing the problems similar to those of any student going to college, have particular problems that arise out of the program. One of these is the problem that appears when on e questions one's beliefs. And I think the students need someone to go to who can give them some foundation or can restore a little perspective and can reassure them that the world does go on and caution them that it is not wise to question everything all at once. SPAETH: Perhaps you would explain what the job or an Assistant Dean is. LEONARD: It really amounts to almost everything that isn't done in the classroom. We arc concerned with the health of the students, their housing, their emotional problems, their financial problems. When I frrst came, the financial aid was all done in our office, mainly by me. Any placement that was done was handled through our office. Now there is a special officer for Financial Aid and Placement. Discipline, both academic and non-academic, is handled by the Assistant Deans. The welfare in general of the students outside of the classroom is really the responsibility of the Assistant Dean's office. Now even details of class scheduling are part of the Assistant Dean's duties. SPAETH: Have the problems of the students that you've had to deal with over these 20 years changed from the early 50's to the early 70's? LEONARD: l think the problems have remained pretty much the same. Some things have become more open; things that used to be considered taboo now are accepted in society at large so that they don't cause the problems that they used to cause. There have been changes in the patterns in the students' reactions to problems. At one period violent hysterics was the way that quite a few of the students released their tensions. That is now old-fashioned, and you very seldom see a case of real hysterics. The students have developed other ways of coping or not coping with problems. Some of these ways are better, some of them possibly worse. SPAETH: 1 remember hearing a story - 1 don't know for sure whether it is true - that on occasion you would give a teddy bear or a ragdo ll to one of the �October 1972 girls who was upset. Is this true, or is it someth ing that you and the students involved would deny? LEONARD: Well, the students might deny it, but it worked at times with certain students. SPAETH: Throughout these years you've also taught in the program a great deaL You came as a profes· sional biologist, but I know you've taught in other areas of tl1e program. Could you say something abo ut how you made progress in the St. John's program? You said earlier that you began co-leading a seminar with Mr. Klein and that you were lcaming Gree k in your early years. What parts of the program have you become invo lved in? LEONARD: Well, in the first few years in addition to teaching in the laboratory - the first year then was biology for the first semester and measurement the second semester - and co-leading the seminar, T audited as much as I could. Subsequently, I have taught in the freshman, sophomore and junior mathe· matics tutorials. I have taught all the first three years of the laboratory program and have audited the fourth year. I've co-led the seminars of all four years and I have taught beginning Greek class. I have also audited part of the senior math and part of the Music tutorial. SPAETH: Twenty years ago it must have seemed an unlikely possibility to a biologist that you'd be teaching Greek. How did you make the plunge into that area? LEONARD: It so happens that when I entered Oberlin College as a F reshman, I was going to be a classics major. That was before I had taken my bio· logy course. I had no science until my sophomore year in college. Then I decided that 1 really preferred science, and I dropped the Greek. Therefore, I had had an introduction to Greek and had studied it at one time, so the plunge might not be as drastic as it looks at first sight. SPAETH: Has it been possible for you to keep up with the field of biology while you've been so busy with teaching other parts of the program and doing the job of an Assistant Dean? LEONARD: It has been very difficult to do that. The only way I can keep up at all is through reading and through contacts I have made during my sabbatical leaves. On my first sabbatical leave I taught biology in two Indian colleges; one at the undergraduate level and one at the graduate level, and during that time I had a chance to bring myself up to date somewhal. And this past sabbatical 1 had similar opportunities to catch up a litt le bit, but I certainly could not say that I have been able to keep up the way a research biologist or even a full-time teacher of biology should. SPAETH: St. J ohn's students study the entire program; that means that all of our students study biology. Have you found in your teaching of biology that students find it interesting, important, no matter what their inclination is, or can you reach, in a significant way, only a fraction of the students? LEONARD: I think you will always find a certain number of students who cannot see the reason for the laboratory, whether the subj ect matter is biology or physics. They put up with it because it is part of the program. Some of them think that they've had all the biology they need or just aren't interested in the dissection part or cannot understand what biology can possibly offer them. They are the ones, sometimes, I think, who don't know enough to know what they are missing. SPAETH : Perhaps we could talk a little about your experience in teaching in India. A few years ago St. John's had an Indian lady as a Tutor, Ida Doraiswamy, whom you and I both know very well. Perhaps you could tell us how you made your con· tacts with India and how you met Miss Doraiswamy and what teaching you have done in India. LEONARD: Well, my contact was made through an association in Oberlin who had connections with the two colleges in India where I taught, and I went out there in the summer of 1959 with my sister who was visiting these colleges, and at that time the principal of Lady Doa k College wanted me to stay and teach. I 23 �told her I would come back on my sabbatical, which I did. I applied for a Fulbright Award and went as a Fulbright Lecturer and Honorary Professor of Zoology . SPAETH: I believe that was in 1962. LEONARD: That was in 1962-63. I taught a genetics course and an embryology course there. The teaching is done in English, so the language was no problem . The problem is that there are no textbooks for the students, so you have to give them the factual information. You have to teach from a syllabus on which questions for the final exam are based. The examination is given by the University, and anything the student does in the class during the year has no bearing on his fmal standing for the year - that is, you have no control over the grade the student will get - everything depends upon how the student does in the examination. This restricts your teaching pretty much to the material that is given in the syllabus. You don't do the student a favor by branching off into topics that aren't covered by the syllabus. It was a little difficul t for me coming from the St. J ohn's method of teaching to have to confine myself to lectures, and mainly factual lectures at lhat. However, in the postgraduate program I had more leeway - that was a co-educational program. While I was there I filled in in two mathematics classes for a teacher who had the mumps. Miss Doraiswamy knew that I had taugh t math at St. J ohn's College. This was unusual in India because at that time zoologists, once they had decided to major, which they do at the end of the first year of college, can no longer take mathematics even if they wan t it. And I also gave a paper at a post-graduate five-college mathematics seminar, which again surprised the Indians because zoologists are not supposed to know math, and in addition, I was the first woman to address them. SPAETH: You didn't sav what the colleges were and where they are located in India. LEONARD: The women's college was Lady Doak College. The men's college was American College. These two colleges are located in Madurai in South India. SPAETH: And you were there in 19 62-63, and you met Miss Doraiswamy and she came here as a Tutor from 1964-1966 and then you went back to Lady Doak during your second sabbatical in 1970. LEONARD: Well, I met Miss Doraiswamy the firs t time I was in lndia in 1959. Then she came to the United States to Oberlin College on a fellowship in 1961, and I believe you met her .n Wisconsin in 1961. i 24 I Then she went back to Lady Doak College. I, of course, enjoyed her company there, and then after I returned to the United States, she expressed a desire to teach at St. J ohn's College, and she came here from 1964-66. You asked if I went back to India again. Yes I did, twice. I visited there in the summer of 1969 and was there for six months in 1971, this time staying but not teaching at Lady Doak College. There is now a University of Madurai in the city, and I delivered some lectures on Population Genetics to the post-graduates in the Biology Departme nt there. I was an advisor on several science projects at Lady Doak College and gave talks at different functions at various institutions. I travelled around by myself in India for over a month visiting game parks and other places of interest. I spent three weeks birding in Nepal and northern India (Kashmir and Daljeeling). I was in Darjceling when the Bangladesh erup tion took place. I was within ten miles of the border, witnessed small troop movements and had to sleep in the Calcutta airport because of the disturbance. SPAETH: I'm sure yo u had an affect on Lady Doak College and American College because of Miss Doraiswamy's reaction to St. John's and the St. J ohn's method of teaching. I visited New Delhi in 1967 soon after Miss Doraiswamy had left St. J ohn's and I learned that she was tremendously affected by the program here. She's a mathematician, as you know, but her contact with the seminar and with the other parts o f the program left quite an impression on her. What is her position today in India? LEONARD: She is head of the mathematics department at Lady Doak College, and since Lady Doak is affiliated with the new University of Madurai in stead of the University of Madras, the affiliated colleges have had a chance to liberalize their curricula quite a bit, and Miss Doraiswamy has introduced discussion classes into the mathematics department. She also has brought outsiders in who can cross departmental lines. Her college was chosen for a three-year grant from the Indian government for a college science improvement program (COSIP) which allows them to improve their library and teaching facilities, to give further training to the faculty and to permi t the students to undertake projects. Miss Doraiswamy 's department has had ve ry high ratings from the government on the basis of what she is doing. She has said that she would not have been able to do all that she is doing if she had not had her two years at St. Joh n's College. She would like to return to St.John's sometime. �October 1972 CLASS NOTES that there is something about t he St. John's training that tunls 1 >eopJc toward systematic arld scientific study of language. 1932 1962 Robert L. Burwell, Jr., professor of chemistry at Northwestern University, in August was announced as the 1973 winner of the American Chemical Society~s Award in Colloid or Surface Chemistry. The Award was established by the Kendall Company in 1952 to recognize and encourage out· standing scientific contributions in colloid or surface chemistry in the Un.it.ed States and Canada. The presentation will take place next April in Dallas. Charles Bentley is secretary of the Rio 1938 j. S. Baker Middelton, who last spring retired from the J<euffel and Esser Company as vice - resident for Industrial Relations, p has taken a position as Deputy Special Assistant for Manpower (or the State of New Hampshire. 1948 A first-hand report on Raf>hael Ben Yosef (better known to his classmates as Ralph C. f'inkel) comes to us (rom julius Rosenberg '38, who has just returned from a trip to Israel. Raphael has been living in Israel since the early 1950's, is r'narried to an Israeli girt. and they have t\vo children. lie issued a most sincere invitation for any St. johnoies who are in Israel to visit him. His address is Asavah A.T.l., Inc, Maya House, 74, De.r ech Petah 'likvah Road, Tel-Aviv. His mailing address is P.O. Box 14051, Tel-Aviv. 1949 Michael Mok wrote an interesting article in the August 7th issue of Publishers Weekly conc(!rning a Publishing Procedures course offered at Radcljffe. After a number of years with L•fe magazine, Mike is now News Editor of the Weekly. 1953 Pt<blishers Weekly crops up again: Paul Nathan's column "Rights and Permissions" reports the publishing efforts of jeremy Tarcher. After a number of years of "packaging" books for other publishers, .I. r. Tarcher, ITlc., will release "The Sex·Lifc Letters'', a selection of rather candid letters originally appearing in the magazine Pent· house. Any volunteer reviewers? A recent note from R. M. R. (Mike) Hall re ports that he is an associate professor of linguistic~ at Queens CoUcge, CUNY, and is at present c hai_ nan of the department. His n wife Beatrice, who teaches li nguistics at SUNY Stony Brook, and he have daughters aged three years and L4 months. Mike feels Grande Educational Association. He and his wife, Dianne (Stone), make their home in Santa Fe. john P. Chatfield, working for his Ph.D. degree in philosophy at the New School for Social Research, has been made editor of the Graduate Faculty Philosophy founwL This is a student publication, sponsored by the Graduate Faculty, which first appeared last May. For the time being there will be one issue a year, and it is availab le by sub· scription. You may address John at the Pbilooophy Department, Graduate Faculty, New School for Social Research, 66 West 12th Street, New York, N.Y. 10011. 1965 judith At~drea jacobson received her Ph.D. degree in psychology from the Johns Hopkins University on May 26th. 1967 July brought another good l<tter from »o Meredith Burke~ with news that she is now in Philadelphia, starting on a research pro· ject at the Human Resource Center of the Uni.ersit y of Pennsylvania. She also sends news of Fred Fedderson, who has finished his post·graduate course in cultural anthro· pology at Cambridge. He will now work with the United Kingdom equivalent of VISTA on community development in large cities. A final bit from Meredith's Jetter advises that Gay (Singer) 8oro.tta has finished her first year at Harvard's Graduate School of De.sign. 1968 A Ph.D. degree in the History of Science wa.• awarded to William R. Albury this past spring by the Johns Hopkins. Randy's dis· sertation was on French chemistry and biology at the e nd of d>c 18th century. This year he will b e a Macy Postdoctoral Fellow in the History of Medicine and the Biologi· cal Sciences at the Hopkins. His wife Becky (McClure) will be working for her master's degree in U. S. foreign poJjcy at d~e same university. The summer issue of Tire Law School RecCfTd (corn the Uni\rersity of Chicago brings news that Bartholomew Lee. one of last year's Bigelow Fellows at the Law School, has been named Senior Bigelow Teaching Fdlow and ln.~tructor. Bart has been taking courses in the Croduate School of Business, in addition to teaching fuU·tiroc this past year at the Law School. Mean· while, he has found time to write an article, "A New and Legal Pun in Chaucer: A Signi· ficatio for the Summoner," which wilJ appear in Modem Philolog)l. Mary C. Howard and the Rev. James G. Callaway, Jr., were married on May 20th at Union Theological Seminary. Belat<d congratulations and best wishes. Domrld j. Schell (SF) is now associate Episcopal chaplain at Yale University. Another Santa Fe graduate, Steven Shore, makes the news: he is now a financial analyst with Westinghouse Broadcasting in New York City. 1969 A good letter from john H. Strange lets us know that he is in his third year of study toward the degree of Master of Divinity at Austin (Texas) Presbyteria" 1"heological Seminary. john anticipatc.s receiving hjs degree and being ordained as a Minister in the Presby terial Church next spring. John and the former Camille Phillips of San Marcos~ Texas, were married on September 2nd. The new Mrs. Strange, a honors graduate of Southwest Texas State Univer· sity, wilJ receive her master's degree in German literature rrom the University of Texas next May. 1970 July brought our annual j ohn R. Dean postcard from fat·away places, this time from Yugoslavia. J ohn was on his way to England for a summer of study at Trinity College, Oxford. He also reports that l>imitri Devyatkin works in "The l{jtchen". a "cybcttietics extravaganza in N.Y .C." In Memoriam 1904 · Burtis N. Coopcr,June 15, 1972. 1907 • The Rev. Walter B. McKinley, Boonsboro, Md., June 20, 1972. 1915 • Caiman J. Zarnoiski, Sr., Balli· more, Md., September 3, 19 72. 191 9 ·James K. Wood, Annapolis, Md., August 21, 1972. 1921 · George W. Barnes, Cherry Hill, NJ.,July 26, 1972. 1921 · Wiijjam P. Maddox, Rocky Hill, N.J., September 27, 1972. 1921 • J. Milton WiUey, Springfield, Pa., July 26, 1972. 1922 · Edward W. Cashell, Clarksville, Md., August 27, 1972. I 926 · H. Stanley Schmidt, Cockeys· ville, Md., May 19, 1972. 1927 · Cordon S. Duvall, Edgewater, Md.,July 5, 1972. 1931 · W. Tate Robinson, Honolulu, I·la.,July 19, 197 2. 1932 · G eorge E. Rudolph, Baltimore, Md., August 15, 1972. 1970 · Joan Leslie Kramer, New York, N.Y., August 1972. 25 ,_______ =-- �Photo Credits: ]ames Grady, back cover. M. E. lllarTtm, page 21 . Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting, pages 11 and 15. Charles Post. page 14. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 25 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, October 1972 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1972-10 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Spaeth, Robert Louis Parran, Jr., Thomas Compbell, Randolph Sinks, Jeffrey Description An account of the resource Volume XXIV, Number 3 of The College. Published in October 1972. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_24_No__1972 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/10f7d66a281e58c5ec9716a4879a4451.pdf ecbef56e5c1058f80aa054d3f3a41d78 PDF Text Text lf' h-~ THE COLLEGE C.Of:'( St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico January 1973 �THE COLLEGE Editor: Robert L. Spaeth Alumni Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. '42 Design: John Randolph Campbell '72 Production: Jeffrey Sinks '7 3 The College is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President. Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four times a year in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing offices. In the January Issue Aristotle's Ethics, by J. Winfree Smith 1 Three Piano Preludes, by Douglas Allanbrook 7 Alumni Profile . 21 Homecoming 1972 . 22 Alumni Chapter in New York . 23 Alumni Activities . . . . . . . . 24 ON THE COVER: The replica of the Liberty Bell standing on the front campus in Annapolis is one of forty-eight cast in 1950 by the U.S. Department of the Treasury as part of a nation-wide drive to promote the sale of defense bonds. The state of Maryland temporarily deposited its bell with the Annapolis Chamber of Commerce, which in tum had it placed on the campus in 1952. In a speech prepared for the dedication of the monument: on May 13, 1953, John M. Whitmore said, "St. John's College, just as this bell, is symbolic of liberty and of man's constant battle to become and to remain free." Vol. XXIV January, 1973 No.4 �A.ristotle ends the Nicomachean Ethics with the words: "Let us then begin our discussion." Although Aristotle is sometimes playful, he is not playful here. The passage that precedes shows that the book called the Nicomachean Ethics is only part of a larger whole. The larger whole includes the Politics, and it is the discussion contained in the Politics that is to begin where the Ethics ends. To the larger whole Aristotle gives the name "the philosophy concerning human things." At the very beginning of the Ethics, the philosophy concerning human things, as having to do with "the human good," is called political science (e11"WT~/1'1 ). This term might be misleading both for those who know only a little about Aristotle and for those who know a great deal. For those who know only a little, since political science as he, and the ancients generally, understood it is not identical with political science as it is usually taught in our universities and colleges today. While Aristotle's political science is descriptive of institutions of government, the things they are concerned with, and the ways they work, it has to do with much more than the institutions. of government. If Ethics raises the question of what is good or bad for this or that man to be or do, that question is not to be separated from such questions as what is good or bad for him to do in the place he occupies and in relation to others within the complete human community, the nOAts, in what way that goodness or badness may be determined by the goodness or badness of the mil\ts itself and its laws, and hence what may be the best 1T61\ts. The term "political science" may be misleading to those who know a great deal about Aristotle because, according to what he says in the Posterior Analytics and in Book VI of the Ethics itself, science ( €71'W7~JJ.f/) is about universal, necessary, and unchangeable things and proceeds demonstratively from premisses to conclusions. The model for science is mathematical synthesis of the kind we find in Euclid's geometry. But at the beginning of the Ethics he makes it clear that Ethics is not like geometry. It lacks the precision of geometry. This lack of precision is to be found not only in the application of universal principles to particular matters, but in the universal principles themselves. Although there is a great deal that can be said about what is generally good for men to do, this may not hold in all cases and all circumstances. The things Ethics is about arc changeable. Ethics or political soence IS not Aristotle as conceived by Raphael in his "School of Athens" fresco in the Vatican. ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS by ]. Winfree Smith ''science." Let us come back to the least misleading title of the enterprise, "the philosophy concerning human things." That suggests that there may be some other 1 �The College philosophy that does not concern human things. There may be things that are what they are independently of man, and to say they are what they are is to imply there is a way in which things are. The things that are independent of what man thinks or does or makes might be called "nature." That name, however, deriving from the Latin nascor (to be born, to come into being), as well as the Greek it translates, ¢vatS (from ¢Vw, to generate, to cause to come into being), points to a distinction between the way things are as determining the way they come into being and the way they are simply. Aristotle accordingly envisages two sciences (in addition, of course, to Mathematics) that aim at the vision of truth, at knowledge for its own sake: Physics, which is about nature as a principle of change or coming-into-being, and First Philosphy (which has come to be called Metaphysics, although Aristotle never called it that), which is about being as being. Unlike Ethics these are conceived as sciences in the strict sense, as demonstrative sciences. It is perhaps worthy of note that Aristotle never produces these sciences. The books that we call the Physics and the Metaphysics contain observations, the posing and refining of difficulties, and reasoning leading to principles rather than demonstrations from principles (Jrra'YW"f~ rather than dn68H~ts). This, I believe, is not accidental. For Aristotle, like his teacher Plato, was aware that when man undertakes to philosophize, no matter about what, he is not, to begin with, in possession of principles; and whether he actually comes to possess them should perhaps be left an open question. One might wonder whether one can enter upon the philosophy about human things without having been first engaged in First Philosophy and Second Philosophy (which name, Second Philosophy, Aristotle gives to Physics or Natural Philosophy). Or, to put it another way, does his Ethics depend upon his First Philosophy or his Physics? Can we keep his Ethics and reject his Physics, and substitute some other Physics, Descartes' or Newton's, or Einstein's? Or, can we keep his Ethics and reject his Metaphysics? If we presented these questions to Aristotle, I think he would say that in Ethics we must begin with the most obvious perennial facts about human life; for instance, that men have certain desires for food and drink and sexual pleasure, for money and recognition, that for the most part they live in communities under customs and laws, that they fight wars at the same time that they fear death, that they, with some exceptions, worship gods or a god, and that they have opinions about good and evil which they take seriously. So we don't need to presuppose Physics and Metaphysics to begin to philosophize about ourselves and our fellows and our common life. I would submit that if one were to read the Ethics without having read or heard much about Aristotelian Physics ·Of Metaphysics, he would find it understandable. 2 But one might wonder not whether one can start, but whether one can finish the philosophy about human things without entering upon First Philosophy and Second Philosophy. After all, even if human things are to be differentiated from those divine things on which the being of the cosmos depends or from natural things, it might be argued that man's being and his doings depend upon his nature which is part of the whole that includes all natures. It might make a great difference for Ethics whether human life is a tiny and transitory happening in an immense universe which may be friendly or hostile to human life, or which may be intelligible or unintelligible, or which may be governed by a particular providence or not so governed. Is not Ethics, in order to complete itself, or perhaps even correct itself, compelled to take into account the questions with which First Philosophy and Physics deal? If Aristotle were faced with this query, I think he would by no means dismiss it. But he would remind us that just as the weaver may have a good opinion about what a good piece of cloth is without knowing the good itself, i.e., without knowing or even seeking to know what Plato argues was the first principle of everything, so fathers of families and soldiers and citizens and rulers may have a good opinion about what is good or bad for them to do without embarking upon First Philosophy and Physics. Moreover, just as the weaver has every day to attend to his loom, so men have every day to attend to their tasks in the several relationships of life. One studies Ethics in order to know how to act, and action allows not the leisure to wait upon the solution of speculative questions. The inference to be drawn is not that one can only act blindly or thoughtlessly. Otherwise, Aristotle would not have written his Ethics. It is useful to consider how he proceeds in the book. He is guided by what people think to be good or bad, by what they praise or blame. A few years ago a student in a St. John's seminar remarked that morals are just mores. That student perhaps knew some Latin and knew that the word "morals" comes from a Latin word which in the plural is nothing other than our word "mores" and means customs, usages, habits. Indeed so. The word "ethics" is exactly parallel to "morals" and comes from a Greek word HeTJ that has those same meanings: customs, usages, habits. Indeed so. But the question is whether the customary, usual, habitual ways of thinking, · the commonly held opinions, do not embody truth. This seems to be Aristotle's view. He is, of course, well aware that not all opinions, even widely held opinions, are equally worthy of consideration, and that among those that are, not all are compatible with one another. When they seem not to be compatible, he tries to see whether they can be reconciled, and, if not, why one opinion is to be preferred to another, and how some kind of consensus within the realm of opinion might �January 1973 be reached. He himself says of his procedure in the context of his account of continence and incontinence (or self-restraint and unrestraint): We must set before us what seems (presumably what seems to others) to be the case, and, after first going through the difficulties, exhibit, if possible, the truth of the common opinions about these affections (continence and inconti- nence) and if this is not possible, the truth of the greatest number and the most ruling ones; for if both the hard points are resolved and common opinions remain, the truth will have been sufficiently exhibited. Therefore, I have not really entered into Aristotle's ethical or moral teaching, and the reader may well wonder why he is reading this if not to learn how to be good and why. Aristotle's general answer to that question is simple: You should behave in accordance with reason, and you should do so in order to be happy. I hope that the rest of what I shall say will to some degree specify the content that Aristotle gives to that proposition. In the first place, Aristotle observes that men generally will agree that they want happiness and that happiness, whatever it is, is not something they want as a means to something else but for its own sake. They do indeed disagree as to where their happiness is to be found. Some think it is to be found in pleasure. But there are some pleasures that man shares with the other animals, such as the pleasures of eating and drinking and sexual enjoyment. If human happiness is a specifically human thing, it would seem that whatever those pleasures contribute to happiness, it cannot be found in its completeness in them, though it might still be identified with some specifically human pleasure or pleasures. Those who think that it is to be found in wealth will, upon a little reflection, see that wealth is good only in its use and so for the sake of something else. So and so many coins in a purse or digits in a bank account are not happiness. If there are men like Hotspur, who think that happiness consists in honor, they will, if they reflect, see that they would not want to be honored by just anyone or for just anything, and so that honor is meaningful only in relation to whatever excellence a man may have and for which he should be honored. Hence, what defines a man's happiness is the excellence rather than the honor he receives because of it. If he possesses some excellence, that means that he is excellent in something or at something such as swimming or horseback riding or armed combat or oratory or diplomacy. That is, there is always some activity in which he excels. Hence the really good thing is the activity. Just as the parts of the body have their activities and the activity of the eye is seeing and of the lungs is breathing, so man has an activity as man, which must be an activity of the soul rather than the body, and of that part of the soul which differentiates him from other animals. His excellence will consist in his being able to perform well that ac<ivity, and the activity itself will be his happiness. But there a]:e many specifically human activities some of whiGh seem to be for some further end ·and others to be ends in themselves. Is there some one activity which is the end of all? Aristotle "'does not answer this question at the first stage of his -Philosophizing concerning human things (i.e., in Book I of the Ethics). He has, however, come to some ,tlhderstanding of the kind of thing that happiness must be: Happiness must be an activity of the human ·"soul in accordance with some human excellence or virtue. And that virtue must be complete. The main ~reason that Aristotle cannot at this stage give a better answer to this question to which at a later he returns ,-is that in order to answer it he has to investigate the question of what human virtue is. There may be ,many virtues and one among them supreme with the others relating to it in various ways. Or there may be ,.many, and they may all reduce to one virtue, for example, wisdom. They may all be kinds of wisdom. <.Or there may be one supreme virtue for men of one kind and another for men of another kind. ~ Aristotle, therefore, in Book II begins to inves~ tigate the question of virtue. Having noted that men ,£peak of both intellectual virtue (ap er~ 8 <aV01/TLKTI) and moral virtue (ciptT-h ~{)~"h), he confines his ,attention all the way through Book V to moral virtue, returning to intellectual virtue in Book VI and to the question of how intellectual virtue may relate to ····moral virtue. As Book I was a search for a definition ... of happiness, so Book II is a search for a definition of ·moral virtue. Whether such a definition completes the ... definition of happiness will be still open. For we shall have to ask whether in tellcctual virtue is in any way .-necessary for moral virtue. And if there are intellectual virtues not necessary for moral virtue, we shall ... have to ask whether happiness is an activity in accordance with these or whether it is an activity in __,._accordance with moral virtue under the governance of some intellectual virtue or a combination of both activities. To put it another way, is the philosophic life the good and happy life, or is the political life, or . is some combination of them? But what is a moral virtue? One way to begin to answer this question is to consider how men in their earliest years learn to behave. How do parents teach • their children to behave? Usually they employ rewards and punishments to make them do certain .. things and not do other things. By repeatedly doing certain things and refraining from others, habits are formed which become second nature so that the children without being told don't fill themselves with candy before dinner, are not cry-babies in the face of some real or imagined pain, and share their toys with . other children. These good children have become on some level temperate, courageous, and generous or .liberal. They have come to possess these virtues of temperance and courage and liberality. It would seem �The College to make sense then to say that a moral virtue is a habit (e~ts) which the soul comes to possess because of the repetition of a certain kind of action. The habit, in turn, in the circumstances that call for it, is realized in that same kind of action, but it is not always being realized in action. We don't say of someone that he has stopped being courageous because he is asleep and not actually performing courageous deeds. Indeed, that is why we distinguish between the habit and the action. Furthermore, a habit of virtue, like a habit of vice, is a relatively permanent thing. It is not easily changed. This, however, would not seem to be an adequate account of moral virtue as a human quality. For dogs and other animals besides men can be trained to behave habitually in certain ways. What do we have to add? We should say, should we not, that if a man is to do something virtuous, he must know what he is doing. Certain acts done in ignorance we neither praise nor blame. We even pardon or pity the doer of an action which we would find blameworthy if it were done wittingly and which upon discovery to the doer brings sorrow to him. Aristotle mentions a certain case of striking one's father as such a mistake done in ignorance. One is naturally led to think of Oedipus and to conclude that the tragic mistake that Aristotle speaks of in the Poetics is not a flaw of character in the sense of a vice, but a mistake done in ignorance and so involuntarily, and therefore one for which Oedipus is to be pitied. The virtuous man and his opposite, the vicious man, are such only if they act knowingly. The virtuous man must not only know what he is doing, he must choose to do that rather than something else. We often use the word "choose" somewhat loosely. For instance, we say that the American people choose their President. They don't choose him just because they pull levers on voting machines. Choice requires deliberation. Deliberation is some kind of reasoning which starts with the perception of an end to be achieved and weighs the possible means to achieve it. The virtuous man in choosing the virtuous action does so after deliberation. The virtuous action that is chosen is in the case of the moral virtues usually a mean between two extremes of pleasure and pain or pleasurable and painful things. For example, the man who is temperate in food will choose the mean between too much food and too little food. There is, of course, no fixed rule for making this choice. What is just right for me might be too little for a heavyweight boxing champion, but too much for an aged clerk who leads a more sedentary life. Obviously, deciding upon the mean also requires reasoning. Finally, we would not say that a person possesses a moral virtue unless he chooses the virtuous action for its own sake. Although children learn how to behave through being rewarded and punished, we would not say that they have really 4 become virtuous until they do good things and avoid doing bad things without expecting candy or fearing the stick. In some such way, then, Aristotle comes to a definition of moral virtue. It is a habit of choosing a mean, a mean relative to the person possessing it and determined by reason. There are three conditions for moral virtue: (1) knowing what one is doing, (2) choosing the action for its own sake and (3) doing that habitually, i.e., from a certain stability of character. The first two involve reason, but at this stage of exploring the question of virtue, the third is stressed more than they. At the end of Book II of the Ethics we find a list of the moral virtues set forth in such a way as to show how each one has to do with a mean. The following books through Book V contain a detailed account of all these moral virtues taken (with one exception) in the order in which they are listed. Let me give the list in order, putting with the virtues the opposite vices which have to do with an excess or deficiency of whatever pleasure, pain, desire, or passion is the medium for their exercise. I shall give first the virtue, then the vice of excess, and then that of deficiency. ( 1) Courage between rashness and cowardice (2) Temperance between self-indulgence and insensibility (3) Liberality between prodigality and meanness (4) Magnificence between vulgarity and niggardliness ( 5) Greatness of soul between vainglory and smallness of soul (6) Moderate ambition between immoderate ambition and unambitiousness (7) Gentleness between irascibleness and unirascibleness (8) Truthfulness between boastfulness and irony (or self-irony) (9) Friendliness between flattery and quarrelsomeness (10) Wit between buffoonery and boorishness Notice that justice is not in the list, and Aristotle says very tersely, With regard to justice, since it has not one simple meaning, we shall, after describing the other habits, distinguish its kinds and say how it is a mean. There seems to be something special about justice. Is there some order in this list? For instance, is there a steady progression from inferior virtues to superior virtues? Or is it that there are certain peaks and that once we reach a peak, we return to a valley again and climb a lower or a higher peak? Perhaps we might consult one of Aristotle's best students, a man who has understandably been canonized and is known to some as St. Thomas Aquinas. For he wrote what is probably the most serious and thorough of commentaries on the Ethics. I shall present a simpli- �January 1973 fied account of the order that he sees in this list. First, there is the distinction into two parts between the virtues that have to do with man:s passions and desires and those that have to do with his actions. As to the first part, there are passions and desires that have to do with man's life itself. Thus courage is a virtue that has to do with the fear that he feels in the face of what is destructive of his life, and temperance with the desire he has for what is preservative of his life and the life of the species. Then there are passions and desires that have to do with certain external goods, namely wealth and honor. The virtues that establish a rule for the way a man should bear himself toward wealth are liberality and magnificence, and for the way he should bear himself toward honor they are greatness of soul and moderate ambition. As to the second part, the virtues that have to do with man's actions are, to begin with, the virtues which are concerned with the less serious though still important actions of men in relation to other men. They might be called social virtues: the virtue of being friendly or generally affable as distinguished from the vice of flattery or that of quarrelsomeness; the virtue of wit as distinguished from buffoonery, a virtue eminently displayed by Falstaff who was somewhat lacking in other moral virtues; and the virtue of truthfulness about oneself by which one avoids both boastfulness on the one hand, and irony or self-depreciation of the other. Aristotle accuses Socrates of this vice of irony, of claiming for himself less than his due, less than the truth. There are some who try to save Socrates from this allegation, but I shall leave him to shift for himself. These lesser social virtues lead logically to justice which is the social virtue most of all, that is, the virtue by which men act rightly toward each other in society. All of this that Thomas says makes eminent sense. But there are some things that are strange about it. In the first place, Thomas makes greatness of soul not nearly so great as Aristotle makes it. For him, it is simply one of many moral virtues with perhaps a certain place in the hierarchy of virtues, whereas for Aristotle it implies the perfection of all the other moral virtues and includes them all. In the second place, Thomas' account of the moral virtues, when he is speaking more on his own in the Summa Theologica, is markedly different from the whole of Aristotle's Ethics and from Thomas' commentary on the Ethics. This is interesting because the impression is often given that Thomas Aquinas just made a line between supernatural revelation and natural reason, and that as for the latter he slavishly followed the master Aristotle. Not so. In the Summa Theologica the account of moral virtues is preceded by the treatise on law including natural law and divine law, the latter containing both the revealed law of Moses and the revealed grace of Christ. As far as virtue is concerned, the revealed grace of Christ means the theological virtues, faith, hope, and charity, which are gifts of God and are discussed next after the natural and divine law. Then there follows the treatise on the four cardinal virtues, among which the intellectual virtue of prudence or practical wisdom is supreme and is treated first, followed by the discussion of the moral virtues in the order of their excellence: justice, then courage, then temperance. All of the other moral virtues are subsidiary parts of these cardinal virtues. Thomas makes liberality, truthfulness, and friendliness parts of justice, greatness of soul and magnificence parts of courage, and gentleness a part of temperance. Although he does not subtract from Aristotle's list, he adds to it: religion, filial piety, penitence, and gratitude as parts of justice, patience and perseverance as parts of courage and humility as part of temperance. Perhaps these remarks about Thomas Aquinas' transformation of Aristotle's teaching about morality may make us more alert to the essential elements of that teaching. In answer to the question raised above, I should say that there are in the first five books of Aristotle's Ethics two peaks, the second higher than the first. The first peak is greatness of soul. The second is justice. These are the peaks among the moral virtues. The question remains whether the intellectual virtues are not a higher peak. What is true ot greatness of soul and justice and is not true of other moral virtues is that each of them includes all the others. How then do they differ? They differ in that in the case of greatness of soul all the moral virtues are regarded as constituting a man's own intrinsic worth whereas in the case of justice they are regarded as constituting his worth in relation to others within political society. The thing that characterizes the great-souled man is that he thinks himself worthy of the greatest honor. So he must not only possess the other moral virtues, but he must possess them in a superlative degree. The remarkable thing, and perhaps the offensive thing to persons of Christian sentiment or democratic sentiment or both, is that a man would be lacking in virtue if he possessed the other moral virtues in a superlative degree and did not think himself worthy of the greatest honor. One might conclude that he will want to be honored by others. Not so. He will utterly despise the honors conferred upon him by nonvirtuous men, and he will not be especially pleased at those conferred upon him by virtuous men whose virtue falls far short of his own and who can scarcely value his superlative virtue at its real worth. Shake· speare's Coriolanus, who is like the great-souled man in his supreme sense of his own worth, in his contempt for the opinion of the Roman populace, in his unwillingness to flatter them, nonetheless lacks greatness of soul, for the great-souled man would consider it vulgar to exhibit a lofty bearing in the presence of lesser people. Aristotle's greatness of soul might seem to be the very definition of pride and the very opposite of 5 �The College humility. Humility for Christians means a sense not of one's own worth, but of the tremendous disparateness between whatever worth one may really have and the infinite worth of God. Could it be that Aristotle's view that greatness of soul is a virtue implies a theology and a radically different theology from that of Christianity, implies that man can be as god or almost? He does indeed say that the honor that tbe great-souled man claims is that which we render to tbe gods, and he compares him to Zeus as being pleased to be reminded of benefits he has conferred but pained to be reminded of those he has received. Perhaps it might be interesting to see how Thomas Aquinas manages to keep greatness of soul as a virtue. We have already seen that he underplays it by making it a part of courage rather than courage a part of .it. In answer to the objection that he himself poses, that greatness of soul is opposed to humility, he says, There is in man something great which he possesses through the gift of God; and something defective which accrues to him through the weakness of nature. Accordingly, greatness of soul makes a man deem himself worthy of great things in consideration of the gifts he holds from God ... On the other hand humility makes a man think little of himself in consideration of his own deficiency; and greatness of soul makes him despise others in so far as they fall away from God's gifts .. , Yet humility makes us honor others and esteem them better than ourselves in so far as we see some of God's gifts in them. Does this not mean, however, that if one does possess great virtue, one's greatness of soul consists in seeing that great virtue, not so much as contributing to one's own worth, but as a gift of God? The one worthy of honor would then seem to be not so much the recipient of the gift as the divine giver. That would certainly destroy the meaning of greatness of soul as Aristotle understands it. Humility, it was said, is a sense of the tremendous disparateness between whatever worth we may really have and the infinite worth of God. Sin was not then mentioned. It may be that not only is the worth man has infinitely less than God's worth, but that man is positively unworthy. Is this not why Thomas adds to Aristotle's list the curious virtue of penitence, which consists in the constant recognition of one's constant unworthiness or lack of virtue? Aristotle indeed mentions something like penitence, namely shame. He says that it is not a virtue, that it indeed is a praiseworthy feeling in young people, for the shame they feel for past or present failing restrains them in the future. But it is not praiseworthy in an older person for he should not and need not do anything for which to be ashamed. In him it is shameful to feel shame. What Aristotle says about shame is of a piece with what he says about greatness of soul. 6 It was said that among the moral virtues the other peak is justice, that like greatness of soul it contains all the other moral virtues, and that it is a higher peak than greatness of soul. Justice is ambiguous. For sometimes it means justice as a whole and sometimes a part of justice. The reason for the ambiguity is that justice as a whole is obedience to law, and law prescribes actions such as courageous or temperate actions that fall under other moral virtues and also actions that do not fall under other moral virtues, such as the distribution by the political community of honors in proportion to merit or restitution to be made to the injured party to a contract. It is justice as a whole that is more excellent than greatness of soul. The reason is that the common good is superior to the moral worth of any single man when that is considered simply as his own worth. To quote Aristotle, "The best man is not he who exercises his virtue toward himself, but he who exercises it toward another." This is said in the context of moral virtue, and might have to be qualified in the context of intellectual virtue. It might still be true. It would depend upon what we mean by "man" when we speak of the best man. Or what we mean by "himself," i.e., what a man's self is. What Aristotle says about justice as a whole is in many ways reminiscent of what Socrates says in Plato's Republic, about the justice of the nOAts. By that I mean that in the Republic justice is not a particular virtue belonging in a paramount way to a particular class, as wisdom, or courage, or less clearly, temperance is, but is all of the virtues together. Of course in the Republic, while justice is obedience to the laws made by Socrates with the assent of Glaucon and tbe others, one might wonder whether the civil law, obedience to which is Aristotelian justice, would meet the severe demands of Socrates' legislation in Socrates' speech. After discussing the moral virtues and the chief moral virtue, justice, Aristotle in Book VI proceeds to the question of whether there can be moral virtue without intellectual virtue. Earlier in setting forth as conditions for a morally virtuous action that it is to be done witb knowledge, choice, and from a firm character formed by habituation, he had placed the greatest emphasis on the last, saying, "For the possession of the virtues knowledge avails little or nothing, whereas the other things are all-important, inasmuch as virtue results from repeated performance of just the temperate acts." It seems now that this was not the whole story, and that while one can indeed, and people do, speak of moral virtue in the way previously described, moral virtue in the strictest sense requires intellectual virtue, which consists of knowledge. But what intellectual virtue and what kind of knowledge? To answer that we must ask the prior question: What kinds of intellectual virtue are there? First of all we might speak of that kind of intellectual virtue which cqnsists in knowledge about things that cannot be otherwise, the · eternal and (Continued on Page 19) �THREE PRELUDES FOR THE PIANO DOUGLAS ALLANBROOK Several years ago I wrote a set of piano pieces called "12 Preludes for All Seasons.'' I wanted to write a kind of album for lovers of the piano. Some of the pieces are difficult, some are relatively easy. At the request of The College, I have selected three of the latter for publication. They can all be played in order at a public concert, or they can any of them be played separately either in concert or at home. They are all dedicated to people I know. Whether they are portraits or not is part of the game. �- ~--~ f!. /f!... .j!-• '~ 11.- v J ~..... ~~ .,. --~ ·-~~~~ .. -- ~- '( -P 'I = I - '1..1 bA_ ~ ~ ~tll'ii I . ~l -=-- .::-;: r-"""' _./ ~ YT ~tJ 1 ~ . ~ ~ f L 1 ..... ~· '---" ---....... ,1 - I ' ~;:_ ' ......... ........ .... 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I """' " I ~~~~~~ ~ ~~ "~ . _.:- L • ·~ ,-----.... =:::::: ~t~ • j ::> -<- ~ b:e: �, ( ~ ~ ~~ l~ - '"---~ '-=". '-.'1. _.,...,-_ (:.!! I "1:b~ L.,.... *~~ ·{ 5ni>:..r .~:~~~~~b._ I I ' ""'- I '------.:..... ·~ . It'_'"'.., ... l'oo... ~ 5:- ... ~ ~ 2:. ~~-~~ ~,_ • :--, C:> , ~i~ I ... - -- I . . - ~ # ,.. b-~ ~ =<i ~·w 1\ ..,.. ~ :> ~c.-1. ~ ..!-"~ - . ~. t:s v ""' L !"'-o... -# ........ 11o~ -~ 1\ ?> f ... L lf ~ > ~- - r- ff- ff -<::.- • - It ··,. �1 ._ . ~- -· .... ) > J. !I~ ( ~ ~ ,I ' . ~16- I 7 ~ l ·~ ',. I. ~ ~ ~ ,. -... - ~ \ > - - I>~ ~~~ �Douglas Allanbrook was born in Boston in 1921. He began studying music at the age of eight and composing music at the age of twelve. Subsequently, his principal teachers in composition and theory have been Nadia Boulanger and Walter Piston. Mr. Allanbrook's works include four symphonies, four string quartets, two operas, piano and harpsicord music, sacred music, songs, and assorted chamber music. Hi's compositions are being published by Boosey and Hawkes, Inc. �January 1973 unchangeable things, and the eternal conditions and principles of changeable things. It is identical with the knowledge that is sought by First Philosophy and Second Philosophy, or if you like, Metaphysics and Physics. This is, I believe, the first point in the Ethics ~here one might think that the peculiarly Aristotelian teachmgs about being and nature are beginning to enter the consideration of ethical or moral matters. B_ut Ari~totl~ refers to such intellectual virtue only to distmgmsh It from the intellectual virtue that is concerned with things that change. That itself is twofold. For on the one hand, there is the intellectual virtue that is necessary if man is to make things well, namely art; the sculptor by his art knows what a beautiful statue is and the cobbler by his art what a good shoe is and both by reasoning determine the best means for producing the statue or the shoe. And on the other hand, there is the intellectual virtue necessary if man is to do things well. Here, clearly, is the intellectual virtue required, if any is required, by moral virtue. For moral virtue is the habit by which man is disposed to act well in relation to his own desires and passions and in relation to other men. The intellectual virtue in question is practical wisdom or prudence (</JpOV'Ia<s). As art is the virtue by which one knows how to make things well, so practical wisdom is the virtue by which one knows how to act well. Practical wisdom is, as it were, an eye of the soul by which it sees the ends of human life, the various actions that are determined by the moral virtues in their intrinsic worth and in their order and connection with one another. As such it cannot exist without the moral virtues and so presupposes a c~rtain acquisi_tion . of those virtues through expenence and habituatiOn. One who has acquired habits of_ self-indulgence or cowardice or stinginess is made bhnd to temperance or courage or liberality and incapable of practical wisdom. Hence, the primary role of practical wisdom is to reason from the ends set by the virtues to the means of acting temperately ~r courageously or liberally in the particular situa~10n. That inv'?lves deliberation, reasoning, and msight mto particulars. Without those things there can be no moral action and without moral actions the moral virtues cannot be preserved. Therefore we must say that moral virtue is necessary for practical Wisdom, and that practical wisdom is necessary for moral virtue in the true and strict sense. There are special kinds and degrees of practical wisdom. For the praiseworthy or blameworthy actwn~ of men are not merely the actions of single men smgly, but of political communities, and of single men in their various roles within political communties. Therefore, practical wisdom is in an expecially important way political wisdom, and political wisdom may be that of founders of regimes such as the authors of the United States Constitution or of those who have to deliberate in political assemblies, such as the United States Congress, about measures to be taken for the common good, or of those who have to make decisions about the rightness or wrongness under the law of deeds already done, such as the justices of the Supreme Court, or of those ordinary citizens such as you and I who by our nature belong to society and are obligated to act in society. It was noted earlier that Aristotle distinguished practical wisdom, an intellectual virtue which has to do with particular and changeable human affairs, not only from art, but also from another intellectual virtue. That other intellectual virtue is philosophic wisdom (ao.pia ). Though Aristotle says that practical wiseom is required for moral virtue, he does not say that philosophic wisdom is required for practical wisdom or for moral virtue even in the true and strict sense. Here he seems to differ from Plato, who in the Republic argues that the just political community cannot exist unless kings become philosophers or philosophers become kings; and philosophers are those who in their quest for wisdom about the no)us are compelled to go beyond the nOll<s to seek the wisdom about the whole of what is~ It is significant in this connection that Plato uses the words </JpOV1/0<S and aoq,ia interchangeably. Enough has been said, I tllink, to show that what Aristotle says on some early page of the Et.hics is not to be taken as indicative of his full account. For example, he says in the second chapter of Book I that political science seems to be the most authoritative and the architectonic science. Indeed he seems to imply that is it authoritative and architectonic in relation to all other sciences. For he says that it ordains wlllch sciences are to be studied in the noll<s. But even his calling political science arcllltectonic is misleading unless we note carefully that the comprehensive end with which political science as described at the beginning of the Ethics concerns itself is the human good. By the end of the Ethics we have some reason to think that, paradoxically, there is a good for man that is higher than the human good. For near the end of Book VI Aristotle says that it would seem strange if political or practical wisdom generally, which is inferior to pllllosophic wisdom, should be more authoritative than it, and his final statement in that book before going to an entirely new beginning is that political wisdom is not in authority over philosophic wisdom, that it does not give orders to it but for its sake, and that "if anyone were to say o~herwise, it would be like saying that political Wisdom rules over the gods." Is philosophic wisdom comparable to God or gods? Or is the wisdom that the philosophic man seeks and may hope to obtain comparable to the wisdom God has or gods have? · Philosplllc wisdom as an intellectual virtue is a combination of intellectual intuition and demonstrative reasoning resulting in scientific knowledge of the things that are of most worth. It is then above all else, First Philosophy, the knowledge of being as 19 �The College being and of the first principle of the whole being, the philosophy which in Metaphysics, Book VI, is the philosophy of most worth, because it deals with the kind of being that is of most worth and which is there also called theology, because that kind of being would be the divine cause of divine things. It is not political wisdom or practical wisdom, because that is the philosophy that deals with human things, and even if men be divine, says Aristotle, there are things that are more divine in nature than man. What are these things? They are the heavenly bodies which, together with the earth our home, consitute the cosmos. And, of course, the unmoved first mover, on which as a principle the heavens and nature depend and whose activity is exclusively intellectual intuition, would be more divine and the supreme divine cause of all. At the end of Book I, having argued that whatever happiness is, it is activity in accordance with complete virtue, we left the question of what happiness is to investigate the question of virtue. Virtue, we have seen, 1ncans a number of different things, and we have by no means explored all the differences that Aristotle, eminent in the esprit de finesse, perceives. But we have explored the main ones. The principal difference is the difference between the virtues of a life devoted to philosophy and those of a life devoted to action which, at its best, is political life. As the philosophic virtues are superior tO the moral virtues, so is the activity in accordance with them superior to the activity in accordance with the moral virtues, and accordingly the happiness of the philosopher is greater than the happiness of the man who possesses only the moral virtues, although the second kind of happiness has an autonomy since, though the intellectual virtue of practical wisdom is necessary for the moral life, philosophic wisdom is not. Because of this autonomy we can speak of the virtue of the great-souled man as complete virtue or of the virtue of the just man as complete virtue. Either one is complete moral virtue, and indeed it is likely that the great-souled man or the noble statesman will possess certain moral virtues in a degree that goes way beyond the degree to which the philosopher possesses them. This raises the question whether we are right, after all, in attributing supreme happiness to the philosophic life. For is the virtue of the philosopher complete virtue? He cannot be altogether lacking in moral virtue. He has a body like other men and appetites and passions like theirs. He will be temperate and, if he has to face the danger of death in battle he will be courageous. But for the activity of philosophizing he will not need moral virtue in a large and spendid sense, and simply because he has fewer needs, his life and happiness will be more self-sufficient and complete than the life and happiness of the great-souled man or the just and noble statesman. 20 We can now see these diverse types of men in a new perspective. It was observed that the essential thing about the great-souled man as such is that his exercise of superlative moral virtue is always directed toward himself, toward enhancing his own worth. It was further said that the just man is better than he because, while he may possess the same superlative moral virtue, his exercise of it is always directed to a higher good than himself, the common human good. But now we have to revise that somewhat. For there is a sense in which a man's self may transcend that of the human community and indeed all human life. We raised the question whether Aristotle in envisaging the great-souled man was not envisaging a man who could be as a god or almost. That might be true except that for Aristotle God has no moral virtue. We cannot say that he is temperate or brave. But neither can we say that he is just or liberal; he neither makes convenants nor bestows gifts. His virtue, if we may speak of his virtue, is only intellectual virtue and, specifically, intellectual intuition; for presumably he has no need to demonstrate things. In answer to the objection that the philosopher is grasping for a life too high for man, Aristotle says, We must not follow those who advise us, being men, to think of human things, and being mortal, of mortal things, but must, so far as we can, make ourselves im1nortal, and strain--eVery nerve to live in accordance with the best thing in us; for even if it be small in bulk, much more does it in power and worth surpass everything. This would seem, too, to be each man himself. There are wide differences among men and different virtues of which different men are capable. But a man's true self in the highest sense, a sense perhaps not relevant to most men, is the divine intellect whose activity, the contemplation of being, the philosopher seeks to share. Aristotle throughout the Ethics has much to say about the various virtues and how men may come by them and therefore how men may become happy. In the first book he raises the question whether happiness comes as a divine gift and says, "If there is any gift of the gods to men, it is reasonable that happiness should be god-given ... ;" "but," he adds, "This question would perhaps be more appropriate to another inquiry." We look in vain for that inquiry. He is entirely silent after that about the question of whether happiness is a divine gift; but as we have seen, he is not silent about the question whether there are any divine gifts. Mr. f. Winfree Smith, a Tutor at St. John's College since 1941, delivered this lecture on the Annapolis campus on May 26, 1972. Mr. Smith received his B.A., M.A., and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Virginia and his M. Diu. from the Virginia Theological Seminary. �January 1973 When John Poundstone was a St. Johnnie in the early 1960's, he neither planned to go to medical school nor anticipated joining the Navy. Yet only ten years after his graduation John is both Dr. Poundstone and Lt. Cmdr. Poundstone, with the resounding title, "Head of the Tuberculosis and Venereal Disease Control Section of the Community Health Branch of the Preventive Medicine Division of the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery of the Department of The Navy." Dr. Poundstone works in Washington, D.C. His chief task is the development of VD and TB control programs for 800,000 military personnel and a million civilians. The trail that led there began in John Poundstone's senior year, when he decided to return home after graduation to Lexington, Kentucky, in order to attend the University of Kentucky medical school. He had been admitted on only one condition, that he fill out his St. John's education with a summer's worth of organic chemistry. After that ordeal, John found med school to be quite manageable, and he received the M.D. degree in 1966. By then there was a Mrs. Poundstone, the former Ann von Isakovics, who admits to having "followed John" to Kentucky, where she received a bachelor's degree from the University of Kentucky. By 1966, Ann had added an M.A. in secondary education with emphasis in the teaching of high school mathematics. The couple was married in 1963. The Poundstones' life changed significantly with a move to Boston in '66. John spent a year as an intern in the Newton-Wellesley Hospital, then entered Harvard University's School of Public Health. In the course of three years, he acquired a Master of Public Health degree and did a considerable amount of research on congenital he art disease. Meanwhile Ann changed her field to business administration and, in '69, received a master's degree from Boston University. She subsequently became active in the computer business, becoming the first woman ever to sell a computer. Another big change occurred in 1970, when John went into the Navy. Washington became home, and John plunged into demanding work in the Navy's TB and VD programs. Ann continued her fearless career, now as a law student at Georgetown University and as a law clerk to Judge Samuel W. H. Meloy of Maryland. She expects her Juris Doctor degree in June. Both Dr. and Mrs. Poundstone have vivid memories of their years in Annapolis. Ann spent only two years at the College; after much more academic experience elsewhere, she finds that St.John's had a "diversity of student population" hard to match. But the question of whether her years at St. John's were "beneficial" still is a troublesome one. Yet she is convinced that St. John's helped "all of [her] subsequent relationships." John Poundstone finds the St. John's influence following him wherever he goes. His education at Annapolis continues to help him "to bring order to the subject matter" he works with. And he believes St. John's has helped him "to see underlying motives and basic tenets" in the work and writings of others. Homecoming 1972 found the Poundstones cheerful and relaxed as they visited their old campus and found time to grant an interview to The College. 21 �The College HOMECOMING 1972 It may really be, as one -alumnus. wrote in. commenting on 33 Homecoming,. that the .very sophistication of the program tends to ~;,,immunize. us, .so. that. we· are .not seduced by the sort of nostalgia necessary to lure alumni back to their college. Or perhaps alumni just have too many things to do. For whatever reasons, fewer than :S"i 200 alumni and their guests showed 3~1 up for. the annual gathering of the classes in October. Those classes celebrating some sort of reunion did help attract people, with the 60-year class being represented by Philip L. Alger and George L. Winslow. The oldest class present was 1909, represented by Col. Robert E. Jones from Palo Alto, Calif. Col. Jones would have had the. distinction of having come the longest way, except for David Cicia '70, who was on leave from his duty station in Germany. One of the Homecoming highlights was the dedication of the Harrison Health Center. Present for the event was Mrs. John T. Harrison, whose gift in memory of her late • husband, a graduate in the ,p) President Weigle and Mrs. John T. Harrison at the Dedication of the Harrison Health Center during Homecoming. 22 Mr. Myron L. Wolbarsht receives the Alumni Award of Merit from William R. Tilles. for 41 years, received a thunderous standing ovation from alumni, faculty, and guests. The citation on her Award of Merit reads as follows: "As Registrar and counselor for five presidents, ten deans, and legions of students, she has served the College with a distinc-~· tion the more remarkable for her to greet each by name." / 1 91'-'m>m has an award been more 1 deserved or more humbly i i 1 re<:ei•ve<l. i In other act1v1tJes during the Class of 1907, made the building day, the following slate of officers possible. Other members of the and directors was elected by the Harrison family also attended the Association: President, Bernard F. ceremony. Gessner '27; Executive Vice PresiPerhaps the most significant dent, William W. Simmons '48; Secevent of the day for most alumni retary, Franklin R. Atwell '53; took place during the Homecoming Treasurer, Samuel S. Kutler '54; Dinner. In a very simple ceremony, and directors, Richard F. Blaul '32. Association President Bernard F. Stephen Main ella '54, E.-- Paul Gessner and immediate past Pre- Mason, Jr. '37. George R. Selby sident William R. Tilles teamed up '32, and Carol P. Tilles '59. Still to present the Alumni Award of with one year to serve are Jerome Merit. Recipients this year were Gilden '54, Charlotte King '59, Miss Miriam Strange and Messrs. Barbara B. Oosterhout '55, and Paul L. Banfield and Myron L. Faye C. Polillo '56. Wolbarsht. Edward F. Lathrop accepted the award for Mr. Banfield in the latter's unavoidable absence. Miss Miriam Strange acknowledges Miss Strange, a full-time the warm tribute paid to her for her member of the St. John's com- continuing service to St. John's munity since 1930, and Registrar College since 1930. I I �January 1973 The Harrison Health Center was finished in time for the opening of the fall semester. NEW YEAR GREETINGS Mrs. Weigle and I have appreciated the many messages from alumni and friends, both at the time of our daughter's accident and over the holiday season. We take this opportunity to express our thanks and to wish each of you a Happy New Year. Richard D. Weigle N.Y.C. ALUMNI CHAPTER FORMED IN THE NEW YORK AREA Recently a number of alumni in the New York City area decided to establish a formal alumni ·chapter. After a number of organizational meetings, the following interim officers were chosen: Chairman Francis Mason Vice Chairman Lowell Shindler Treasurer Stewart Washburn Registrars Carolyn Leeuwenburgh Mary Wiseman Secretary Lovejoy Reeves The following have volunteered to head and organize committees: Newsletter Barbara V ona Seminars Stephen Benedict Special Events Adam Pinsker Student Counseling Michael Gold Student Liaison Stewart Washburn Also, the following Board of Directors has been chosen: Stephen Benedict '4 7 Tristram Campbell '47 Michael Gold '61 Alan Hoffman '49 Donald Kaplan '45 Carolyn Leeuwenburgh '55 Francis Mason '43 Adam Pinsker '52 Marvin Raeburn '51 Lovejoy Reeves '67 Lowell Shindler '64 Ronald' Silver '63 Steven Shore '68 Eugene Thaw '47 Gene Thornton '45 Barbara Kulaki Vona '64 Daniel Vona '67 Stewart Washburn '51 Mary Bittner Wiseman '58 A number of projects are already underway. Carolyn Leeuwen burgh and Mary Wiseman are putting together a registry of alumni in the area that will not only be useful to the Alumni Chapter but also to alumni moving in to the area and to New Yorkers who are students at the College. Monthly seminars are planned, beginning in February, at the New York Studio School, located at No. 8 West 8th Street. In January, one of the teleVISion series, "Dialogue of the Western World," will be shown to alumni in the studio of Channel 13, in New York City. The text for this showing is Thucydides' "Melz"an Conference." This is one of a series of 15 one-hour television seminars produced by the Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting, now being broadcast on Channels 6 7, 7 3 and 28 in Maryland. Other cities where alumni have expressed an interest in forming alumni chapters are Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington, D.C. Information on the ·activities of these groups will be published in future issues of The College. MARK VAN DOREN (1894-1972) St. John's College notes with great sadness the death on December 1Oth of its good friend Mark Van Doren. Pulitizer Prize-winning poet, critic, and teacher at Columbia University for 39 years, Mr. Van Doren was a frequent lecturer at St. John's during the early days of the New Program. The College community extends deepest sympathy to Mrs. Van Doren and to sons Charles '46 and John '47. 23 �The College ALUMNI ACTIVITIES 1912 Among his many activities, Ph£lip L. Alger this fall found time to direct a series of lecture-discussions on "Ethics and the Professions" at Union College. 1931 "Lou Rosenbush wins Maryland Futurity," read a recent newspaper headline in the Baltimore area. Certain that our alumnus Louis Rosenbush, Jr., was not a jockey, and doubtful that he had run in a horse race, we thought perhaps he had placed a lucky bet. But, no, Lou Rosenbush did run, not the alumnus but his namesake, a two-year-old owned by Rosenbush's friend Nathan Cohen. How many alumni have horses named after them? 1932 Richard F. Blaul, Annapolis insurance man and a director of the Alumni Association, is the honorary chairman of the Development Committee of Fairfield, the first non-profit nursing home in Anne Arundel County. 1936 WUliam N. Raz'righ, a native of Caroline County (Md.}, since 1961 has been administrator of the Kent-Caroline Libraries. 1939 elected resident vice president, Baltimore Service Office, Insurance Company of North America. Ken has been with INA since the mid-1930's. Thomas L. MacNemar is head of the Annapolis office of the Maryland State Department of Employment Security. 1952 Adam Pinsker is currently the president of the Association of American Dance Companies, and makes his home in New York City. Some sort of record was set this past August, when Alvin Aronson graduated with the summer senior class. Twenty years and three months after his original class graduated, Al received his own degree. We know that it was not easy for Al to become a student again, and offer our most sincere congratulations to him. After graduation;Al left for Israel for an indefinite stay. 1960 1957 fohn Kinloch paid a brief visit to the Alumni Office in late September; while here he told us he received his Ph.D. degree in mathematics last year frOm Vanderbilt University, and is now an associate professor of mathematics at East Tennessee State College. 1959 Kenneth G. Bennett in November was 24 partner, Charlotte has formed the Annapolis Counseling Service. Hank Braun and his wife Mary Anne (DeCamt'lUs) ;!58 live on Thompson Street in Annapolis with Stephen, twelve, and Robin nine. Wz'llz'am R. and Carol (Pht'lUps) Tilles were in from near-by Bowie, where they Jive with their children David, Jenny, and Paul. Bill has been with IBM for eleven years; his work concerns use of computers in the medical industry. Peter and Pat Schenck live in Annapolis with John, age nine, and Sarah, age seven. Peter is the psychologist at Henryton State Hospital for the adult mentally retarded, and was recently made a member of the newly~formed Annapolis Environmental Commission. Pat, who received her master's degree in elementary education from the University of Chicago in 1970, teaches at the Key School. Homecoming brought together several members of the class of 1959, and Patricz'a (Garretson) Schenck passed around a notebook and collected the following: Harvey Goldstein and wife Dale came in from Miami where he practices law. They issue a most sincere invitation to anyone from the College to visit them. Mary (Bittner) Wz'seman and husband Charles were down from New York, where Mary teaches philosophy at Brooklyn College. Charles, Mary, and her nine-year-old daughter Emily live in Manhattan. Charlotte King is the student counselor at the College, and she and her daughter, Rachel, make their home on campus. Charlotte was recently appointed assistant director of the Anne Arundel County Department of Social Services, and is working specifically to make public housing into livable, acceptable communities. Together with Henry D. Braun and a third Capt. fohn f. Lane writes to President Weigle that he is Chid of the Resource Management Division in headquarters of the Air Force Communications Service at Richards·Gebaur Air Force Base in Missouri. He is responsible for staff direction of the Commrmications Computer Programming Center and of the 2199th Computer Service Squadron. Dorothy Luttrell is working for her master's degree in Learning Disabilities at San Jose State, and lives in Mormtain View, Cal. Kenneth H. Thompson, Jr., associate professor of political science at the University of Southern California, had a unique political experience this past spring. Having filed for Democratic nomination to Congress in the primaries, he withdrew on doctor's advice after getting the flu; it was too late to remove his name from the ballot, and he won in a landslide a month after he withdrew. (We wish we could bring this account to a happy ending, but according to our reading of the California election results in November, Ken was not elected to the Congress.) 1961 Eyvind C. Ronquist is teaching at Sir George Williams University in Mon· treal. �January 1973 The Federal Trade Commission has promoted Harrison ]. Sheppard to deputy assistant executive director for legal coordination. Just settled into a Dr. A. Stevens RuMn is now an Army Medical Corps captain, stationed at the Kimpo Dispensary in Korea for 13 months. 1967 We understand that Alice G. Chalmers is a graduate student in biology at the University of Georgia. 1968 new job in the State of Washington within the past year, Harrison will apparently soon return to Washington, D.C. His principal duties will be- the formulation of programs of consumer protection and competition, and when these are approved, to supervise their execution. Mary (Ryce) Ham is a member of the neWly-formed Annapolis Environmental Commission. Ellen M. Luff, legal aid attorney in Annapolis, wife of one-time College artist-in-residence Eric Dennard, and aspirant to political office, won a legal battle this past summer to vote under her maiden name. Ms. Luff successfully contended that she did not have to register under her married name, and that to do so would damage her professionally, politically, and psychologically since she had been known as Ellen Luff throughout her professional life. 1962 fohn F. Miller, writing in November to Miss Strange, apologized for missing Homecoming since he was job hunting, trying to finish his master's thesis, and teaching at both the University of Maryland and Montgomery Junior College. 1964 Linda Rice is now married to Christopher B. Schaufele; her husband is with the mathematics department, University of Georgia. 1966 Maxine Ann Marshall-Shapiro, her husband, and three children live on a farm in Mendocino County, Calif. They intend to start their own school in the spring. Alison Karslake (SF) is studying French at the Graduate School of the University of Maryland, where she holds an assistantship and teaches one undergraduate course. The November mail brought the first "annual George Partlow letter," with the news that George has finished his Jamaican Peace Corps service, and is presently living in Michigan. During his period of transition, George is taking some courses -at the University at Flint. George also reports that Charles Watson, soon to become an M.D., goes to London in February for special work in tropical medicine; that Gzlbert Renaut is in law school, as is Lee (Ret"chelderfer) Tyner. Sally Rutsky is studying law at the University· of Michigan. Mt"chael S. Ryan is pursuing Arabic studies at American University in Cairo, UAR. Amy (Hummel) Rarick writes that she has become "a professional student": in August she received her M.L.S. degree from the University of Maryland, and is now a first-year M.A. student in Canadian studies and international economics at the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies. Amy received both a fellowship and a research assistantship from · 'c'( SAIS. Amy also reports that Sarah Bell '67 has a fellowship and is a doctoral candidate in linguistics at M.I.T. 1969 Michael Hodgett (SF) has completed a tour of duty in Vietnam, and has accepted a position as Chief Teller in the Santa Fe National Bank. Catherine (Allen) Wagner received her M.A. degree in anthropology last June from the University of Illinois; her thesis was on the iconography of Peruvian Indian pottery. ; Cathy has applied for a Kent Fellowship from the Danforth Foundation to continue her Andean studies. She also tells us that 4· ,._. Alec Himwich '68 and she are in their third year as teaching assistants in a physical science course for non-science majors. Lee McKusick (SF} graduated from California State University at Los Angeles last June with a bachelor's degree in American studies. Lee would welcome letters or visits from former classmates; 377 Crane Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. 90065. 1970 Patricia Ann Carey and Matthew A. Frame ('73} were married August 9th in the Church of St. John and St. Philip, The Hague, Netherlands. They are making their home in Annapolis while Matt completes his senior year at the ~ollege. He, by the way, is the son of James H. Frame '50 and the nephew of Rogers G. Albrltton '45. Brent McAdam (SF) writes that fohn F. Emerson; now Brother John Houghton, O.P., made his first vows as a Dominican friar in September, and is stationed at St. Albert's Priory in Oakland, Calif. A brief note from fohn Dean infonns us that Arthur Luse is teaching at a prep school in up-state New York, a whopping load of five courses! John himself anticipates publication of his first article, "The Two Arguments of John Donne's 'Air and Angels'," in the Fall '72 issue of Massachusett-s Studies in English. ]ames F. Scott (SF) writes that he is now living, and working with retarded children, in Syltholinsgade, a small town "at the bottom of Denmark, where the ferry leaves for Germany." 1971 Sheila Babbs (SF) is a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching English to Senagalese in Thies, West Africa. Word has reached us that Alan Plutzz·ck and Anna Lz"via Thorpe '73 are married, although our informant did not know where or when the event took place. V. Mt"chael Vt"ctoroff is now a freshman at Baylor College of Medicine at the Texas Medical Center in Houston. Last year Mike worked on the Citizens Task Force for Mental Health in Ohio, apparently a most rewarding experience. 1972 Dana E. Netherton is a Naval officer candidate at Newport, R.I., and anticipates being commissioned in February. Jean K. Carr is a graduate fellow in biology at Mount Holyoke College. Candace G. Lindo is working as an executive secretary and living in Alexandria, Va. It appears that Martha E. Belt and Donald E. Massell '70 are now man and wife and arc living in Chico, Calif. 1 1903- Edgar C. Wrede, Brooklyn, N.Y., October 19, 1972. .9 1909 - Harold S. Cutler, Weston, Mass., August 29, 1972. '"---1914 - S. Maurice Phillips, Drexel Hill, Pa.,_ ~.eptember 10, 1972. i ").9'22 The Rev. William R. Hofuey, Centreville, Md., November 22, 1972. 1,.~_,22·"'- C. Edwin Cockey, Queenstown\ Md~ctober 22, 1972. t.l-~- Capt. Henry B. MacMannis, Peter~~~""'Va., August 14, 1972. J)PZ4 - Jesse E. Smith, Augusta, Me. ~Dr. James K. Insley, Baltimore, Md., October 6, 1972. 19~- John K. Lucas, Kill Devil Hills, N.C., September 20, 1972. ~'~ �Photo Credlts: Front and back cover;,, Eugene Jorgov. Page 1, Encyclopedia of World Art, Vol. 3 (McGraw-Hill, 1959). Page 18, Charles Post. Page 21, Sheldon C. Heitner. Page 22, Sheldon C. Heitner, Thomas Parran, Jr. Page 23, Charles Post. Page 24, Cal and Don Young. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 25 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, January 1973 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-01 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Spaeth, Robert Louis Parran, Jr., Thomas Campbell, John Randolph Sinks, Jeffrey Allanbrook, Douglas Description An account of the resource Volume XXIV, Number 4 of The College. Published in January 1973. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_24_No_4_1973 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/d702285c5da879387e63af9ddafb5d4f.pdf 4459942c56bc2ec6306db228d009240c PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico \ April, 1973 �The Liberty Tree THE COLLEGE Editor: Robert L. Spaeth Alumni Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Design & Production: John Randolph Campbell Editorial Advisory Board: Michael W. Ham, Paul D. New· land, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout, '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt. The College is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President. Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four times a year, in January, April, July and October. Second Class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE APRIL ISSUE: What is the Ouest ion? by Elliott Zuckerman . . . . . . . . . . In Memory of Mark Van Doren, by William A. Darkey . . An Interview with Robert Bart, by Robert L. Spaeth . . . A St. Johnnie in the Job Market, by Grace Dawson '65 .. Black Mountain, by Michael W. Ham ................ Sculpture by Burton Blistein ...................... Conversations with Graduate Institute Alumni, by Goeffrey Comber ................... News on the Campuses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . Alumni Activities .............................. 1 3 4 10 11 12 14 19 22 ON THE COVER: "Gallery Ill" is the title of the work of sculpture shown on the cover. The sculptor is Burton Blistein, a first-year Tutor and Artist-in-Residence on the Annapolis campus. The College features other photographs of Mr. Blistein's work on pages 12 and 13 of this issue. VOL. XXV April 1973 NO.1 Tina Saddy, 75, a sophomore on the Annapolis campus The Tower Building, on the Santa Fe campus �WHAT IS THE QUESTION? Before I came to St. John's College, and well before I came to the Graduate Institute, I used to direct a summer camp. It was an international camp, and there were young men from many different countries. Each boy was required to do what was called a Project - to make something that would be of use to the campers of the future. One summer there was a boy of sixteen from what was then East Pakistan. His quiet and unaccountable behavior displayed the characteristics of that part of the world which, in those days of relative innocence, we still thought of as the Mysterious East. For his project he decided that we needed a place to put the various objects that the other boys had carelessly left behind or mislaid on the grounds of the camp. So he built a Lost and Found Box. He got a large orange crate, which was already divided into two compartments of equal size. On one side he put a sign which read "Lost." The other side he labelled "Found." Since he placed the box outside the window of my office, I was able to observe the campers who made use of the completed Project. A boy would come up to it holding a book, or a fountain pen, or a shoe, and stand there trying to decide which half of the box it belonged in. I enjoyed watching the signs of their Hegelian deliberation. I liked the effect of that built-in perplexity partly because I myself am naturally of two minds about almost everything. At the same time I am capable of the most categorical pronouncements, of the sort that people are prompted to call "opinionated" - a term that ought to be reserved for the utterer and not for the remark itself. When the division has been built in, one must, after all, eventually place the pen or the shoe in one or another section of the orange crate. Less personal was the illustration of what happens when correlative words are artificially isolated. Consider, for example, what happens in any classroom. Who are the teachers and who the students? When we give or take tests, I suppose the distinction is the simplest: the teacher is the one who asks the questions for which he presumably has the answer, and the student is the one who hopes he can remember which answer it is supposed to be. But Elliott Zuckerman, a Tutor in Annapolis since 1961, waS Director of The Graduate Institute from 1968 to 1970. He is now Acting Dean at Annapolis. The above address was delivered at the Institute's commencement in August, 1972. I ELLIOTT ZUCKERMAN apart from that technical situation, it's hard to tell who's really doing what, for there is a constant reversal of roles. A child asks questions for which we have no idea of the answer. And the professor, when he is not merely professing, can do the same thing. Any good teacher and any good student can multiply the examples. One wonders, of course, whether the very distinction between Question and Answer isn't rather like the distinction between Lost and Foundwhether they don't belong in the same undivided orange crate. "What is the answer?" Gertrude Stein is supposed to have chosen as, we are told, her splendidly characteristic dying Question. When no answer came, she· laughed and supplied it herself. "Then," she said, "what is the question?" At St. John's College we do everything possible to erase the sharp distinction between Teachers and Students. We tell everyone who asks about us, and even those who don't ask, that the Tutors are students and the students teach. The coffee shop usually displays the two sorts helping each other. In the Graduate Institute the ambiguity is happily compounded: not only are the teachers students by inclination, but most of the students are, by profession, teachers. Better still, we try to bypass the distinction by asserting that the books are the teachers. But that places us before the divided box of the next distinction. Are· the books asking or answering? In the seminar, where we start out with a .question, ought we to end up with an answer? And when we do find ourselves with an answer, surely the answer ought to pose a question. Since this is a commencement speech, I have an excuse for having fallen into one of the refrains of our indigenous homily. But the paradoxes sound bromidic enough to tempt me to the opinion that they ought henceforth to be uttered sparingly. Perhaps they ought to be reserved for that rarest of occasions, a profitable discussion. It seems to have become too easy, for example, to speak the truth about the importance of finding a question in every answer. It may even have become too easy, in a superficial way, to practice that discovery. The reader or the listener who accepts everything he is told is, of course, discouraging: one sees in him the readiness finally to choose an authority and adopt a party line. But I wonder whether we oughtn't to be equally suspicious of those people who automatically question everything. Surely they are annoying in 1 �seminar, those participants who can be predicted to counter every assertion with a Why, and ask about every word you use "What do you mean?" One wonders whether in the course of their immediate and invariable questioning they have learned anything important about Questions - that there are, for example, really very few of them, and that they are rarely seen in anything like their full force. Because they are few, they must recur at vertically aligned stages of what may be considered a kind of expanding spiral. My fancy image is meant to refer to an experience I'll try to describe. At the terminus of a rare discussion one can find oneself asking a question which one remembers having asked before. But this time it seems to have greater force: this time it is asked more deeply, or more elevatedly. You see its import in Kodachrome, whereas it had once been merely in black and white. Or you see it now in the sharp contrasts of black and white, whereas before it had had the imitation gloss of glorious technicolor. You recognize that what had seemed to be a seeing had been vague and fleeting, and this suggests analogously that whatever clarity and permanence the question now seems to have will seem shadowy in the light of some future terminus of thoughtfulness. "Why is there not nothing?" There is one of the great terminal questions, a question that can provide the impetus for a further turn of the spiral. If we don't know that this is so, we are told so on good authority. Yet I think the question sounded silly just now - not just awkward, in its oddly necessary negative phrasing, but feeble in the context of here and now. Anyway I hope that was how it sounded. For I had no business saying it, except to illustrate the very point that I had no business saying it. The question can mean something only at the end of a series of difficult thoughts - an end which is, as I have suggested, also a beginning. It should have no place outside of a discussion, or apart from one's most valuable deliberations. It certainly has no place in a speech, when one can at best half-attend to what one person half-professes. Furthermore, even if the context had been one of suitable thoughtfulness, I had maimed the question before I uttered it; for I had written it down. Our society - particularly that part of it which is so disconcertingly called intellectual - has somehow heard that questioning is a good thing, without recognizing that what is valuable has to be rare and difficult. As a consequence we constantly come upon parodies of the thoughtful life. We are beset by interviewers who ask questions, and experts who answer them. But we also question anyone at all about anything at all, as though we had come to believe that 2 there is virtue not only in the quantified tabulation of answers and indecis:ons, but in the very activity of asking questions. In and for itself we like the variety of the answers - so much so that for every assertion we are required to seek out an "opposing view." Our ideal of the reasonable life is the confrontation of conflicting opinions - an endless panel discussion in which people from all walks of life engage in the empty activity of exchanging ideas without ever having had any. It is an extended Symposium at which nothing is offered to drink. If someone knows how to do something, we don't simply ask him how he does it; we ask him, as though his know-how contained a nest of answered questions, for his "methodology." Better still, we ask him for his "philosophy" - his philosophy of film-making, or of hair-dressing, or of camp directing. We even ask people indiscriminately to tell us of that special grasp of the world and their fellow men that ought to be the exclusive province of the chap whom one finds standing next to one at a bar: we ask them for their Philosophy of Life. One wishes, indeed, that we could learn to be openly trivial - for somewhere in the etymology of triviality there is some suggestion of the attention to the meanings of words. Despite the superficial resemblances, our pieties at St. John's are worthier than the ones I have just described. Yet I suggest again (and in conclusion this time) that the life of questioning, of curiosity, of wonder, is not so easily to be entered into as even our pieties would lead us to believe. I am even suggesting that for most of us there is no such life - that wonder occurs within a life, in moments that are hardly won. And there can be hardness in what follows those moments. The implications of one's deepest questions may be repellant. For what passes for an answer may require a commitment or a faith or a series of hinged conclusions that could rock the order of a hitherto hidden foundation of action. My Bengali camper, incidentally, gave us one other example of his handicraft. It was what at the time we could only deduce to be an inflammable ashtray. He had taken half the shell of a coconut, and covered it with a kind of varnish. When one put one's cigarette near it, the varnish gave off a sudden blue flame. This was not a Project. He made it especially for me, and presented it to me at the end of the summer, during the closing ceremonies, as a kind of graduation gift. For a long time I thought it was his hint to me that I should give up smoking. But I know now that the true excellence of his handicraft consisted in his talent for illustrating the more questionable aspects of what one would someday, to one's great surprise, find oneself saying in speeches. 1111 �In Memory of Mark Van Doren (1894-1972) William A. Darkey Every time someone dies the whole world changes. We don't always know this and when we don't it is because we do not, or cannot, remember the one who has died. I have called this meeting today because it is fitting that we interrupt the study and the labor of the College for a time to remember Mark Van Doren, who died last Sunday at the age of seventy-eight. His life has in part made our world, and his death has changed it. In a formal way it is right that we should come together to honor his memory, because he was a member of the new St. John's from the times before it began. During important years he was a member of our Board of Visitors and Governors. For two decades he was a regular lecturer in the College in Annapolis and in this way a true teaching member of this Faculty. He lectured to us on poetry and poets, and through his teaching many of us learned how to think about poetry and to love it. He was last on this campus in Santa Fe io August, 1971, when he delivered an address to us - to you -- In Praise of a World That May Not Last. Your world. He praised it to you and for you. Not many of you knew him personally. And yet you do know him through his poetry, I hope, and also through his book, Liberal Education, which has for three decades led students to St. John's by showing them a vision of what this college tries to be. Many of you are here now because of him. All of this is formal. But it is not what I should like to remember with you today. Rather, I should like to remember with you some things you do not or may not have thought about Mr. Van Doren. Institutions at their best must be personal because persons make them up, and it seems to me we should be personal about Mr. Van Doren. I knew Mark Van Doren from the time I was a very young student. The first time I heard him lecture - I was a freshman - I thought to myself something like, "This is a real puet." That was the judgment of a very green and a very callow boy. But I was not William A. Darkey is Dean of the College in Santa Fe. He has been a Tutor since 1949. The above remarks were delivered at a College meeting in Santa Fe on December 13, 1972. wrong. The privilege of knowing and loving him for the next thirty-five years, at St. John's, at Columbia University, and afterwards has been an essential part of my education, the happiest part, I think. He was essentially a poet and a very fine one. I tend to think of him as Vergilian, though Vergil was not one of the poets he admired most greatly. His own prime poets, I think, were Shakespeare, Homer, Dante, and the poets of the Old Testament. But Shakespeare's plays and the Bible were the poetry he loved best. While he was above all a poet, he was also a scholar, a critic and a great teacher. And, it should bt added, a sophisticated man of the world and a good citizen of it. In him these roles were not separate, as they need not be. We should remember this and see itdemonstrated in him as a permanent possibility. They were io fact functions of his role as poet. As a scholar he was meticulous and learned, because detail fascinated him - detail of the actual surface of things the way they are. And he loved words; their sound; their music together; their history - I remember conversations interrupted at intervals by his diving for the dictionary; all the richness of words; their precision. These virtues of the poet are the essential equipment of the scholar. As a scholar he had read and remembered everything, but he hated footnotes and the rest of the pompous apparatus. To the unwary or ignorant reader it may appear that he wrote off the top of his head. A more sober and responsible judgment reveals how much learning he had digested and gracefully returned on his page. His view of the critic's function was again that of the poet. His last book of criticism, whose prose style is the equal of any written in this century, is entitled The Happy Critic, and that says it all. He deeply felt that the business of the critic, like that of the poet, is to praise what is excel! en t, beautiful, and wonderful. He hated the perpetual carping of critics who can find nothing good, nothing worth their while to praise, and so write destructively. When there were no new books to praise, he reread the same old ones, and praised them. The same old ones: Homer, Chaucer, Cervantes, Shakespeare. (~ontinued on page 18) 3 �AN INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT BART By ROBERT L. SPAETH ROBERT SPAETH: Mr. Bart, you have been teaching at St. John's for about twenty-five years. What have you learned about teaching during those years? ROBERT BART: I don't know whether I've really learned anything about teaching - I've just been teaching. I think each teacher has to teach his own way. When I first came to the College I audited a great many classes. I went to John Kieffer's Greek tutorial, and Ernst Abramson's mathematics tutorial, classes of Winfree Smith and Mr. Klein. I guess the first thing I learned was that everybody teaches differently and I couldn't imitate anybody else. But I learned something from watching other people teach. I think I don't quite know what it is you learn. You learn how different they are, and you stretch yourself in directions you wouldn't have tried, but it certainly doesn't come out anything like the same way. SPAETH: When you came to St. John's, did you think that you were prepared to be a teacher? BART: I think the thing about the College that's different from elsewhere is really that we don't think of teaching and learning as entirely separated. When I was in college the teachers were experts and were telling us what they knew, and we were listening to them and taking notes, of course, on what they said; but here, where the teaching and learning are pretty much the same kind of thing, I'm not sure that I've got them completely separate in my mind. I was excited about what I was learning and when I found something out, I was eager to share it with the students and find out what they made of it. And of course they were studying the same things and I was very interested to find out what they had seen in the things that I was reading. So it's just not clear to me that teaching and learning are separate here. Maybe that's why we have conversations rather than lectures. SPAETH: Have teaching and learning continued to be mixed for you over the years? BART: Certainly, but with different consequences than I realized. I remember some years ago I was in a 4 seminar with Sam Brown and he said that I was talking way over the students' heads all the time. I suppose that was because I always tried to talk with them about the very things that I was learning. I think that can be a fault all right. It's not merely a question of expecting too much; rather, it's not finding out what their questions are. Nonetheless I do think it is pretty essential to the kind of teaching that we're doing that the very discoveries you're making can somehow be shared with the students. When we're reading for our classes I think we're mostly not reading in a narrow or specialized way; it seems to me we're always looking for the fundamental questions and problems which we all share, beginners included. SPAETH: Do you think that there was some truth to the statement that you were over the heads of the students? If you do, do you recall consciously correcting yourself in certain ways? BART: Well, only in the directions I've tried to suggest, because I do think if we are to have a genuine conversation, everybody in it must have some kind of equality. Now, I'm not their age and I've studied a lot that they have never studied, but if I come into the conversation as somebody on a totally different level, it seems to me it's not going to make for a very good RobertS. Bart has been a Tutor in Annapolis since 1946. He was interviewed by the editor of THE COLLEGE in the spring of 1972. �discussion. Of course, when it's a technical matter, say, if you're teaching mathematics or something specific in a language, why it's obvious that you know a lot that they don't know. But I think in all of our classes we're always remembering that there are questions that we all have completely in common and that the technical things are in some sense for the sake of that. I've noticed it in your classes, Mr. Spaeth. You know a lot of lab and math, and yet I've found when the class really gets into conversation in some way you're right there with them. You may be making more out of the conversation than they do. You may see more than what gets said, but I don't think it's the case that you have the answers and they don't. It seems to me it would destroy our classes, if in the important things somebody thought he'd got the answers. SPAETH: Have you learned something new from your students each year? BART: I think so, and almost in each class. In fact I have the feeling that it isn't a good class if I haven't learned something. That's the joke about the College, .it seems to me. The students pay, but it seems to me that it's the faculty that learns the most in almost every hour. That seems to me what keeps us going. Otherwise, we couldn't go over the same material the way we do. I think the classes would go dead. By the way, that has happened to me sometimes, and then I think it is time for me to teach another subject matter. Sometimes I think maybe one just can't teach in St. John's forever and ever. But I always get a kind of renewed hope about it. SPAETH: I would be interested in hearing you compare the experience of leading a seminar for the first time with leading one for the fifth or sixth time. I believe you have taught at least one seminar that many times. BART: Yes, I guess I've taught the freshman seminar at least that many times - probably more. SPAETH: Can you compare the experiences? BART: I think the difference for me has been that the first time, the danger is that what I am just discovering for myself is very much uppermost in my mind. I'm very excited about some things which I have seen, and I am much more inclined to force the conversation in my Own direction. On the other hand, I have a much fresher enthusiasm sometimes than when I come back to it. I'm more ready to listen, I think, when I come back to it a second and third time, much more ready to see what the students are making out of it. But it isn't quite that simple. It seems to me most of the time when I am re·reading a book for seminar, I discover that I haven't read the book very well the time before. This time I think I really see what it is saying. Then, of course, the .third time and the fourth time I still have the same experi· ence. Nevertheless, it does happen to me when I've taught a class a number of times, I begin to get a certain expectation of what the class can do. If you've taught freshman seminar a good many years there are a number of themes in Plato, Aristotle, the tragedies, the histories, that you feel very strongly ought to get discussed, not necessarily this evening or that, but somewhere along the line. SPAETH: Are you saying that, for example, a Platonic dialogue itself is fresh enough to you each time so that you don't feel as though you're merely going over it again? BART: I would want to subscribe to that assertion not merely as an ideal, but as a. description of our common experience. Sometimes, of course, I find that under the amount of work that I have to do I don't put much time (or attention and thought) into re-reading a given seminar text. Nevertheless, it often goes very well for the students. I just sit back and let them help me discover things and I don't have any definite direction in mind. But I guess the main thing that I would want to stress is that it seems to me a book that doesn't present discoveries and real insights, no matter how often you read it, probably doesn't belong on our list. SPAETH: You spoke about listening. Do you think that listening becomes easier as you get more experi· ence as a tutor or does it go the other way? BART: I can see how it would go the other way. I think I probably would have to admit I get increasingly impatient with listening to conventional opinions. I think the reason it sometimes is said I drive the seminar too hard is that there are a lot of obvious things that don't seem to me very well worth saying, and I am probably impatient with these. But I would insist for all that, that I just like to hear what the students have to say of their own. If it weren't for that I don't think I would want to teach here. I really want to know what they are making out of the book. Otherwise, I've only got myself and the book, and all the books we read are too hard for me to understand alone. I think I listen more when I have a certain familiarity with the book. I find it is fairly easy for me to just sit for an hour and watch the conversation go on. I try to see how the different elements in the conversation relate to the book. On the other hand, when I've just read something for the first time, like the Supreme Court cases we've been doing the last two years - some of which I'd never read before I'm just bursting with things I want to say and it is much harder for me to do the listening iob. But my students seem to enjoy it when I just get right into 5 �the discussion like one of them and bring my own confusion and false starts. SPAETH: These conversations that you've had and enjoyed in seminar have been, we must remember, with persons mostly around 20. Do you think that your students have been, in any sense, too young for these conversations, or for these books? BART: That's a very, very difficult question and I think it is what was being suggested to me by Sam Brown long ago, that I didn't remember how young they were. But I think there is a good deal of truth in what Plato has Socrates suggest in the dialogues, that the conversation itself carries you along. I think it is probably true that these young people find themselves saying things that they would perhaps never say if the conversation wasn't gradually leading them there. There may be an enormous gap between what they are led to say by the conversation and they're really acting on what they've been saying. A conversation often has a certain independence of the age of the participant. On the other haiid, every now and then it's just shocking how little re.af:<;xperience they have. In moral questions they are us!l.ally extremely narrow and have very, very hard and fast rules one way or another about how one should behave. In our seminars on works of literature I feel the greatest difference between their age and mine. SPAETH: Does it affect your teaching that the students have a great length of life in front of them? That is, do you have certain expectations for them or do you just simply enter into the conversation for its own sake and believe that that's quite adequate for the day? BART: I think the latter situation inevitably prevails (for teachers and students - certainly) in a college like this. We do simply enjoy what we're doing enormously. I think that that experience of enjoying study, of enjoying working together, making discoveries together, is so valuable that I'm not surprised that while we're engaged in it that's what we think of. But of course insofar as the faculty is responsible for making this curriculum and have a certain intention about it, the other questions are always present. But I do think we always have to remember that whatever we plan in a curriculum we are not going to get out of it any predetermined results. We are wrong to be too easily disappointed if a student hasn't gotten some ideas we feel every St. John's student ought to get. I'm beginning to settle for very, very simple things that seem to me to be of the greatest importance - above all that they look very closely at the terms of any conversation, of anything that they have read or heard spoken; that they understand that it is built out of words, and all the 6 key words themselves are difficult and demanding so that they won't let slipshod language go by them without challenging it. I don't mean to make them little sophists to challenge everything, but they should be prepared to ask what it is that the speaker is meaning by his major terms. And one other thingthat they believe fully in the worth of the conversation. I can't tell how much more I can really count on that the curriculum will produce for them. Of course, I have my secret desire - not very secret, it comes out in my labs - that they would know a little more about what science is and what it isn't. We are in a marvelous time in the history of the world, it seems to me, a time to see the tremendous edifice that science has produced and yet to have all the most interesting questions about what kind of thing that is. SPAETH: Could I ask about your own relationship with the laboratory program? I believe it is an area in which you have become a good deal more active in recent )fears. Have you become more interested in science? BART: That is a myth. People like to make myths about people. No - it's perfectly true that during most of the years that you've been here I haven't had much chance to work in the lab. The first ten years I was here, roughly, I did quite a lot of work with lab. It was all entirely new to me. I had been in situations in school and college where the curriculum required science of the students, but I was always ingenious enough to get myself exempted from it, so I never studied any laboratory science of any sort whatsoever. I took the math and science all on faith when I came here. I thought if Mr. Barr and Mr. Buchanan talked so wonderfully about everything I did know, I just had to take all the talk about science on their word. And the first year I followed the freshman lab, cut up my cat like everyone else, and weighed my baros. I was not much older than most of the students and I learned a lot of lab that way. By an odd accident I think I never really taught the freshman lab. The curriculum has changed so much and so many times it's hard to name in current terms what it was that I taught years ago. Half of what we now do in the freshman lab I did teach in a sophomore lab chemistry and optics, that is, at9._ms and geometrical optics, with some wave theory \J;l:j_it. I taught that a couple of times in my early years in the College. By the way, with subject matters such as lab that I did not grow up with, I have found that the limitations on my own background have made it harder for me to teach them when I have other pressures, such as committee work. So there was, as you implied, a big hiatus during which I wasn't teaching lab. (By the way, over all these years I have kept on attending labs �as the curriculum changed.) Of course, as you too have experienced, my knowledge of certain other things in the curriculum has kept me teaching them more often than I might have chosen to do. It has led to some of the things we were talking of earlier - my growing stale in teaching a class four or five times in sequence. SPAETH: Since you have experience in the labora· tory, the language tutorials, the mathematics tutorials, and certainly the seminars, I'd like to get down to the details of what sorts of things go on in the classroom. Is what happens in a tutorial quite different from a seminar or a laboratory? BART: Yes, although I think perhaps in the language tutorial the distinction from the seminar is not as clear. I think it's easiest to start talking of a math class and then try to arrange the others in a scale or some kind of grouping around it. In a math class it's perfectly cleaT just what we have studied and pre· pared and what the main business of the hour must be. We go over that material and see that we have understood it on a fairly straightforward level so that we can demonstrate it. Ideally the student does all that, but if no one can I don't see how the teacher can avoid simply instructing the students in that subject matter. On a given day one might just push the thing aside because people weren't prepared; but if the material is presenting too much difficulty, then it seems to me that there is no alternative. Of course, we usually try to avoid that by giving the students materials that they can present. But we are not uniformly successful in bringing that about. Now, when it comes to the seminar, perhaps at the other end of a scale, it is clear that we don't presume to instruct, because the questions we are asking of the books are usually not questions about which instruction is possible. With the language tutonal the biggest single difficulty is the question of its function. Is it a baby seminar? Is it instruction in language? Or is it some kind of closer and more reflective working over of material? I have had all kinds of language classes and I think I don't know myself what kind we should say is the paradigm. I think in the math tutorial the paradigm should remain the demonstration that the · student performs, prepares and performs, even though different texts may bring the teacher into it more and more heavily, to press points far beyond what was actually given in the demonstration. By contract, in the tutorial - for example in the Junior year - I think it is wonderful that we read Phedre. There's so much demonstration in the laboratory, so much demonstration in the mathematics, so much strict argumentation in the seminar, it seems to me highly desirable that the language tutorial should be as far away from that kind of thing as possible. SPAETH: I would like to ask a question about just part of that. You referred to the mathematics tutorial as having phases where the material can be quite difficult and where a student or the group of students in the tutorial as a whole would not be able simply to demonstrate the theorems or whatever might be in the books - that in those very different areas the tUtor then must be more of an active instructor. Now I've found in my teaching of mathematics here that one of the most difficult books in the program is Newton's Principia. I know that you have often taught that book. A certain time after you came to St. John's you must have run into the reading of Newton's Principia for the first time in your life. I did too and I'd like to ask, how did you attempt to master that book when perhaps you knew already that it would be extremely difficult for the students? BART: Oh, I found that out right away, because I've attended most of the classes of the College in one form or another over the years I've been here, and I thought-of course that the best way to prepare myself to teach Newton was to attend a class in Newton. And I did attend a class in Newton, but the Tutor fell seriously ill and there we were, the students and myself, none of us who had ever seen the book before, trying to talk about Newton's first Lemma. I should like to say for the College, "Well, it was marvelous what we made out of it," but to tell you the honest truth, we made nothing whatsoever out of it and we talked and we talked and we talked. None of us knew any calculus - none of us really knew any physics - and none of it made any sense to us. That, I guess, is about the bottom level of what can happen when you start out. I was struck right away by the fact that the solution to that problem that was then offered was for the Tutor really to tell the students for a very long while exactly what to make out of these Lemmas. That is always unsatisfactory, because you can't say exactly what's to be made out of them. In my experience, you have to present a point of view about them and then try to get the students to talk about it. There would be a sentence of text to prepare and the class would last for an hour on that sentence. I followed several Junior tutorials and gradually came to the conviction that we should put more of these little lectures of the faculty down on paper. The manual I put together is mostly composed of that sort of thing - so the student could prepare more on his own. I think the greatest thing we have to fear in the College - that any teacher has to fear is passivity on the student's part. SPAETH: Was there a certain knowledge of Newton's text present on the faculty from which you 7 �could learn or was it necessary for you simply to dig into that book yourself, on your own, to understand what's there? It is a very difficult book ... BART: It is an enormously difficult book and I don't pretend to understand very many of the pages that I have worked over. There are lots of them I haven't looked at at all. Yes, I think we had the good fortune to have a few people on the faculty who had studied it and understood something about it and had worked together on it. I wasn't here in the earliest years, but I know in those years, certainly around Ptolemy and, I imagine, around Newton, several of the really competent members of the faculty like yourself who knew some math and physics, maybe some history of science, were just struggling to read that book, and began to put together some very clear understandings with the help of a very few materials that existed then in the form of commentary. And, of course, we floundered quite a lot. I think maybe even lots of things that we tried to instruct our students in were false, or at least unnecessary and irrelevant. But I am· afraid in a venture like the one we are engaged in :: it's probably very hard to avoid actually saying in :·:class, "This text means so and so," and then finding ., out five years later that it really doesn't mean so and ·so at all. ·SPAETH: Are there experts on Newton's P,-incipia that you have turned to outside of the faculty commentaries and so forth? BART: At the time that I was doing most of my work on Newton I was not aware of many. There has been an enormous amount of activity in the study of Newton in the last 10 or 15 years - or at least I have become· aware of that activity in the last 1 0 or 15 years. There is a good deal more to be studied now. I still notice among most authors in these matters a great reluctance to give a running commentary that will address itself - in the manner, say, of a commentary on Shakespeare - to every difficulty that turns up for the ordinary reader. Such a commentary was prepared in the eighteenth century using pretty dubious mathematical techniques. We have all gotten a lot of help from it nevertheless. SPAETH: Have the students made a success of reading Newton here? BART: I think many tutorials as tutorials have been successful. But I think it is safe to say that there are many students who don't get vary far with Newton's argument precisely because the individual propositions can be very, very difficult, particularly the ones that conclude the argument. I think, without meaning to praise the manual (which I'd love to d'o without), that it has helped many students to grapple with the text fairly successfully. 8 SPAETH: I've heard comments from students and some Tutors that there is something wrong with the use of a manual accompanying a text. I think I've heard that more in Santa Fe than in Annapolis. Do you think there's something to that opinion? BART: Yes, I think it is a very sound opinion in principle and I am completely in sympathy with it. Those of us who have taken to writing or using manuals should think very seriously about our reading texts which seem to require them. But I wonder if one really does make very much out of Newton without something like that. The first thing that has to be said is that Newton's book was not written for people who know almost no mathematics, and our students know almost no mathematics. Second of all, as far as I can make out from the reading of it, either he was careless or he maliciously hid a good deal of what he was doing, or both. It is an extraordinarily difficult book. I regret the apparent need of a manual, but the actual alternative here was for a teacher to lecture, informally, but still to lecture, often for weeks on end. I think that's worse. SPAETH: Well, do you think that this has a lesson here - that we must be careful about choosing texts and that perhaps we should learn to avoid those that were not written to be read by people of our capabili· ties and our students' capabilities? I'm thinking not only of Newton, but in the senior mathematics we regularly read Einstein's 1905 paper on special relativity. Certainly that was not written for undergraduates, but yet it is attractive because it is so fundamental and concise. Some years ago we didn't read that paper; now we're trying to. Another example - in the senior laboratory we try to read a paper on wave mechanics by Schroedinger. That paper, I believe, is even more difficult to understand on its o~n terms than Einstein's. Do you think we might be getting off the right road here? BART: I just don't know what the answer is. Let me name one or two things that I would exclude from that approach, A lot of people say that the later dialogues of Plato are too difficult. But we all seem to stretch very, very much when we are given things to read that are beyond what we are prepared for. When it comes to certain kinds of mathematical works I feel somewhat different. There is a specific preparation for them. Often, our Juniors and Seniors do not have 1 and are unable to get it. I have not had the experience either of doing the Schroedinger or the Einstein papers with the students. I hear a great deal of complaint about our doing them, despair even. I would guess, to tell you the truth, that we may be in a situation we were in with respect to the Newtongroping, trying to find out how to use them. I would �be very reluctant to give up papers that have the character you're describing, that is to say, that are fundamental and sweeping, as is the Newton. On the other hand, I don't enjoy conducting classes where gradually I am the only person to understand, or where perhaps there are even three other people, or four, but the vast majority of the students cannot follow the discussion at all. I think that's simply wrong and I believe we do do a certain amount of that in the laboratory. I think it accounts for the irritation of some students, and the frustration, in the laboratory. SPAETH: I believe you and I agree that there are papers, books, documents that simply are not appropriate at all pedagogically. You and I were in a study group a few years ago on the origins of the calculus and we read an article by Leibnitz in which a great deal of the calculus we know was contained somehow, but I think we all, at least you and I for sure, had the feeling that if a person came to that text without a fairly extensive knowledge of the calculus, he would never get anything from it. BART: Well, Mr. Stephenson put those materials together and I haven't had a chance yet to study what he has done. In general I had the reaction that you describe and was confident that it would be entirely up to the teacher to bring out of those materials their importance - it's in no way accessible to the reader who doesn't possess the calculus. So as a way to teach the calculus it seems to me certainly not very economical. But I think a valid criticism of manuals , and of textbooks (of which we use quite a few) is that the student is not invited to make the same kind of demand on himself as in reading tough original texts; he expects to be led by the hand and loses the opportunity to make discoveries for himself. Ill The McKeldin Planetarium, on the Annapolis campus 9 �GRACE DAWSON, '65 A St. Johnnie Grace Dawson, 1n the ne9 Logerfo, came to St. John's in Annapolis in 1961 from Long Island. The Urban Institute recently published 0 The Fiscal Impact of Residential and Commercial Development, nco-authored by Mrs. Dawson and Thomas Muller. Nearly eight years after leaving St. John's with a degree in one hand, and in the other, a stack of slightly used Great Books, I am happy to report that I am pursuing a career which enables me to draw liberally upon both - and make a reasonable living too. This fortuitous situation occurred after spending the first three or four years after graduation discovering for myself that I, as many St. John's graduates, was ill- 10 Job Market suited to most traditionally-defined occupations. Between 1965 and 1969 I held a variety of jobs, ranging from technical writer and editorial assistant to "glorified" secretary. Having entered the job market in the midst of the Great Society boom years in Washington, D. C. (where I have made my home since leaving third-floor Campbell), I gradually came to realize that although there was a plethora of jobs a)lailable, it was also true that challenging op~or­ tunities for female liberal artists without an advanced degree were few and far between. I found it extremely difficult to convince a prospective employer that my Great Books education would be a greater asset to him than my ability to construct a simple sentence or type 60 words per minute. Once or twice each year, usually when I was contemplating a job change, I considered the idea of returning to school to obtain a graduate degree cum "work permit" which would make me eligible for a more stimulating job. However, because of a mixture of personal laziness and a reluctance to conform to the working world's demand for yet more and more credentials, I resisted -after all, I had learned how to think at St. John's, what more did I need? (During this time I married a statisticiannovelist who was about to embark upon a career as a lawyer.) Moving on to the catharsis of this tale - in the summer of 1969 I found myself once again searching for a new job, this time obtaining a position as an administrative and research assistant at the Urban Institute, a Washington think tank which was launched at the end of the Johnson Administration to try to find solutions to the nation's domestic problems. Because of a combination of circumsta'nces, most notably finding myself in a young and flexible organization and having the willingness to work hard and the initiative to carve out an interesting job for myself, I have, over the last several years, been involved in creative and stimulating work. At present I am cast in two separate roles at the Institute. Part of my time is spent as a member of �BOOK REVIEW BLACK MOUNTAIN: AN EXPLORATION IN COMMUNITY by Martin Duberman (E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1972) the research staff of the Institute's Public Interest Research Project, a group attempting to provide empirical research to back up public interest litigation, in areas including racial and economic discrimination, consumer affairs and land-use controversies. Here, my generalist education is particularly useful, since I have worked on studies of such diverse subjects as the measurement of differences in the level and quality of public services provided to different neighborhoods within a political jurisdiction, and the estimation of the fiscal impact on a county government of a proposed "Levitt-type" housing development. The remainder of my time is devoted to helping develop exploratory research projects which might be on the Institute's research agenda in the future. This aspect of my work involves everything from preparing brief background papers and proposals on specific subjects to estimating budgets and investigating potential sources of funding. Again, this aspect of my work allows me to be in touch with a variety of subject areas including the economic impact of the patent system and issues related to airport noise measurement systems. In all of my work I am given the opportunity to play an active role in problem definition and analysis, working alongside economists, lawyers, and political scientists. In line with this, the ability to ask the right questions and to exhibit a certain skepticism toward simple solutions to complex problems (two St. John's-acquired traits) both play an important part in my daily work. I think that there is a place for individuals with liberal educations in fields which have traditionally been considered off-limits to nonspecialists. I would urge other St. John's alumni to pursue such opportunities (creating their own opportunities where necessary). After almost eight years doing battle with the professional biases of the job market I would be the first to admit that it's not an easy fight, but the rewards, in terms of personal satisfaction, have been worthwhile for me. 111 Martin Duberman, Distinguished Service Professor of History at Lehman College, CUNY, has attempted three tasks in this book: to tell the history of Black Mountain College, to write an essay on education, and to take the first steps in a reform of the writing of history. . He succeeds in his first task. Black Mountam College, in its 23 years of existence, generated much history and more myth. Duberman has worked hard at assembling the facts and documenting them. The eighty pages of notes refer to his interviews with almost all of the major figures in his history (two of whom- John Andrew Rice and Charles Olson- have since died) and to sources of documents from The State Archives in Raleigh, North Carolina. Yet Duberman has not buried the story of Black Mountain College under a mass of documentation and fact, but has let the reader witness the life of the College and the continual struggle of the students and faculty to define the goals and means of the College, and to see also the strife generated by this struggle, which finally destroyed the College. Black Mountain College was founded in Black Mountain, North Carolina, (just east of Asheville) in 1933 by John Andrew Rice, who had just been fired from Rollins College in Florida (essentially because he was a gadfly) and who led a small group of faculty and students away with him. Black Mountain College was deliberately set up as an experimenting college, to test and to develop ideas of what an educatiOn should be. The College was always small; the maximum enrollment mentioned by Duberman was 90 students. The College was structured as a community. Rice did say in the early years that Black Mountain was a college first, and then a community, but in 1943 by which time Rice, still a gadfly, had been fued by his own college - the Rector of the College stated that Black Mountain was "first a community, then a College." In such a small community there was little room for sharply divergent points of view, and faculty fights usually ended with the exodus of the losing side. Each such departure weakened the College; Ted Drier, one of the original founders, said (continued on page 18) 11 �SOME NOTES ON THE LOST WAX TECHNIQUE BY BURTON BLISTEIN Polymorph Nearly all of the sculpture shown on these pages was produced by the lost-wax or eire-perdue process. A model or pattern is first made in wax. It can be fashioned directly in wax, the procedure I most often follow. Alternatively, a negative model can be made of the sculpture in another medi- um, such as plaster, and a wax positive made from the mold. Tubes or rods of wax are next attach· ed to the model. When melted out these provide channels for conducting molten me- tal to many parts of the casting simultaneously. Other rods ·are attached to provide outlets for the escape of air. The wax pattern with its system of ducts is then "invested" or surrounded by a refractory which can contain the flow of molten metal without deforming. This material is liquid when applied but soon hardens to form a rigid encasement. The invested model is next heated to approximately 1000 degrees Fahrenheit ,sufficient to entirely vaporize the wax. The void left by the wax is filled with molten metal. When this cools, the investment is removed, revealing a bronze replica of the original wax pattern with its network of ducts. The ducts are cut away and the defaced areas refinished by grinding and hammering until they blend with the surrounding su rtaces. A new casting, rid of its investment, is generally dark brown or grey in color. Some sculptors prefer to leave it at that. However, as a rule I clean the casting using wire brushes, chisels, and dilute acids until the metal returns to its characteristic light golden color. I then apply chemical solutions of different types to the surface to produce the final color or patina. Such solutions may be applied in varying concentrations, for varying lengths of time, with or without the simultaneous application of heat. The possibilities are nearly infinite, and in fact nearly an infinite range of shades may be obtained. Some patinas are rather delicate and need to be protected from handling or from the atmosphere if they are to survive. Various lacquers and waxes are used for this purpose, but they themselves inevitably change the patina and this effect must be anticipated. ! 'J1 l· _) ~~ �Untitled Sibyl Five Finger Exercise I Sailing to Byzantium II Self-Portrait II �Conversations With Graduate Institute Alumni BY GEOFFREY COMBER Geoffrey Comber has been a Tutor in Annapolis since 1965, an Assistant Dean since 1970. He is the Assistant Director of the Graduate Institute. The following sketches are based on interviews and other personal contacts over several years. JUANITA WILKINSON, like several other graduates of the Graduate Institute, is a Junior High School teacher in Washington, D. C. Though she lives in Hyattsville, Maryland, she teaches at an inner-city school - Lincoln Junior High School. The school is only six years old, but is obviously a test of a teacher's skill and fortitude. "During the first three years of the school," said Juanita, "we had four different principals, and, well, the first one had a heart 14 WALTER DUDLEY would probably not respond to anyone addressing him as "Walter" and maybe not even as "Mr. Dudley." I don't think I have ever heard him called anything but "Dudley." But Dudley is quickly known to any group he associates himself with, in spite of his very quiet voice and soft manners. He has the ability to make people aware of his presence in a gentle ,way, and to make them pleased they are in his company. MARY PAT JUSTICE was also a Hoffberger Fell ow who graduated from the Institute in 19 71. Like Dudley, she was a fulltime classroom teacher, but who now has had to sacrifice some of that classroom time for adminis~ trative tasks. While Dudley is now chairman of his department, Mary Pat has been associated with Project K.A.P.S. at Dunbar High School in Baltimore for the past few years. K.A.P.S. is the acronym for Keeping All Pupils in School, �Wilkinson- Dudley- ]ustz'ce- attack, and that was due to the tough job he had." In reply to one of my questions about violence in school, she answered in a tone of commonplace, "There's not very much, now; but there was a time when it was almost impossible to He has been teaching for ten years at Lombard Street Junior High School, an inner-city school in · downtown Baltimore. Most students are black and from low· income families, and the school would probably be regarded by most of us as a difficult, tough place to work. But over the years Dudley has established a rapport between himself and the students and so his good working relation· ship has led to his reputation as a very fine teacher. This last evalua· tion is not, of course, his own; he is too modest. But I have heard it confirmed from several sources. Undoubtedly, Dudley would have been a good teacher had he never heard of the Graduate Insti· tute, but he is firm in attributing much of what he now is as a person - both in the classroom and out - to his experience with the Institute at Santa Fe. He first heard of the Institute from a small notice on the bulletin board of his school, inviting teachers to apply for a Hoffberger Fellowship. When he arrived in Santa Fe, these were his initial reactions: and it is exactly the kind of pro· gram Mary Pat would be interested in and successful aL Enthusiasm is one of her long suits. And so I found her enthusias· tic in her endorsement of what the Graduate Institute had done for her. Her favorite summer contained the Philosophy and Theology discussions. She is Roman Catholic, and had been exclusively to religious schools. teach in the classrooms, what with the gangs roaming through the halls, yelling in doors, and throwing things into rooms." But in spite of and perhaps because of these serious problems, Juanita continues to teach there. She, her husband and four daughters will shortly be moving even further away from Washing· ton - to Bowie, Maryland - yet she still intends to teach at Lincoln Junior High. Juanita's first summer at the Graduate Institute was the summer of 1968. At first, her· reason for applying for a Cafritz the Fellowship was simple practical, measurable goal of getting an M.A. degree during three summers. But her first summer in Santa Fe broadened her horizons and to a great extent increased her understanding and expectations of what an education involves. It took me a good two weeks to get adjusted - going from the atmosphere and pace of the city into a place where everything is calmed down, and at a level where you ca.'l concentrate. That is, conR centrate on the one thing that you set out to do, and that was to read and discuss. In every other college First of all I was confused when I got there . I didn't know what to expect, but at least I didn't expect what I got. Most of the courses I've been in have involved instructors who have lectured at me, but that place drew upon your own resource~ to try to develop answers to questions that many of us had never thought about much before. The Tutors made you develop your own judgement about things, and you were forced to use your own mind rather than repeat what an instructor had to say. It wasn't conventional at all ... I really think my confusion began to stop when I took the preceptorial under Bob Goldwin. There I seemed to gain more So I had a somewhat slanted view toward philosophy. Much of the time we were reading secondary sources. Even with the Bible; quite a bit of it was second hand by the time it got to us in the classroom. But there we were at the Institute reading all these books in the original, or at least, good translations; instead of what someone said the authors meant. At first, I was a bit fright· ened, being a good Catholic, you know, what it would do to my religion - make me doubt it. But, although I changed a lot of my views, it strengthened my faith it really did. All the books, but the Bible particularly, came alive for me that summer, in a way it never had before. I use many of these books in my teaching now. And using the Bible is particularly a beautiful way of teaching. So many of these inner-city kids are familiar with the Bible, and I find the black children are very religious, so it's something they can relate to. Again, I asked what kinds of impact the Institute had had on her personally - that is, apart from an immediate application of the work on her classroom tech· niques. She replied that there were two effects she was very aware of. First, for the first time in her life, she learned how to listen to other people. Since there was no 15 �Wilkinson- Dudley- justice- I know that doesn't make sense. You have to run here, and go to the library to read for au hour, and be lectured at, and then run back home to cook dinner. But to be in a place where you can concentrate primarily on ideas, reading and discussing; I thought that was just ideal. insight into what the program was trying to do ... I've found that, recently, in the social sciences at least a similar approach to problem; is used. No longer do teachers stand up and get students to repeat facts. Now you try to get students to form an analysis of their own solution - at any rate, in the social sciences. note-taking to distract her, and since she noticed how she was attended to - particularly, she said, by the tutors - she slowly but surely learned how valuable and important it is to listen to other people. Secondly, since the examina~ tions were really conversations about the books they had read, it Then again, the classes were not a tall what she expected. They were "different from the classes at other places." In a very special way, Mrs. Wilkinson likened the classes at the Institute to an important aspect of living, viz., sharing an experience. All the other students with their varied backgrounds being not only allowed but encouraged to offer to share their views - this was a new educational experience. "I remember a tutorial on a Shakespearean sonnet. We took just four lines and discussed these lines back and forth for two and a half . hours. It was just beautiful." As someone closely connected with the Graduate Institute for a few years, I have often been con~ cerned with how the Institute affects its students. In what terms do they try to anticipate the impact of its program on their ·personal lives, in contrast with any professional advancement? The latter is relatively easy to measure; the former is one of our invisible products. In reply to a question along these lines, Juanita said: Coming back after the first summer there it took a while to get used to ordinary school again, because it seemed as though something was just not right. It's hard to anticipate what it is, but my personal feeling was that I was operating at a different level from the one that I was at before. I can't say exactly what the difference was - it seemed that I 16 The seminar encounter ses~ sions, as Dudley called them, had a great impact on him. Usually, when most people finish with encounter sessions, they are ready for a psychiatrist even if they didn't need one before. But with St. John's seminars it's different. Seeing the Tutors operate at St. John's helped to give me more tolerance of any students. Because, what you often see is the two tutors at each end of the seminar table not agreeing with one another. This helps you realize that your students don't have to agree with you all the time - and that you have to be ready to talk with them to discuss things with them. Several times during our con~ versation, Dudley made a point of playing down the "content" of the Institute program - that is, he believed it could be any number of other possible book choices. And instead of the actual books read, he stressed the "method" which, he says, develops your ability was not necessary to try to "cram" and "memorize the books and notes" as she had been accus~ tomed to. Instead, she learned better how to understand an author - to discover for herself what is important, and how to .discuss what is problematic. Like the others I spoke with in these interviews, Mary Pat was at first fearful of taking the Mathematics and Science part of the program. But, like them, she was appreciative of the fact that she had been made to study books on a condition for graduation. to know how to think, allowing you to think fast on your feet, without leaning on an expert, so you are able to deal with all kinds of situations that arise, and to understand them better. I think the courses at the Institute give you a better understanding of human nature and of people. I thought I spent a lot of ,time reading the philosophy books, but the math I spent hours and hours. Mr. Neidorf made me work like I'd never worked before. But I found it to be one of the most exciting things I have ever put my mind to. He was very enthusiastic about Miss Justice was asked �Wilk£nson- Dudley- was able to understand people better, if that's possible after spending a summer somewhere reading some books and discussing. I think what really matters was that I was maybe more tolerant of other people's ideas. Not just tolerant in the sense that you can have yours and I can have mine, but tolerant in the sense that I was more concerned about. the other person's ideas, and why he thought that way, and what formed his opinion. Being from the South and having experienced prejudice quite a bit upset me a lot at one time, but now I can understand these things much better. The experience at the Graduate Institute hasn't made me like prejudice, or accept it even, but has helped me to understand how ideas - get formulated and molded. the all-required nature of the program, again emphasizing that in a limited sense of being a history teacher, it is not necessary for him to know anything of Euclid and Lobachevski, yet he found that such a study gave him a fresh understanding of the process of thought. But in addition to this valuable result, Dudley offered the view that for most who attend the Institute, there is a spiritual growth of themselves as persons. He said he had known it to happen to several students, including himself. But it did not necessarily occur in the classroom, though the classroom experience was necessary. Upon further questioning, I found out that the Institute has had a lasting effect upon her reading habits. Before going to the Institute, Juanita "would never have sat down and read Plato," but now she will read Plato or Plutarch of an evening - before going to bed - and the experience is so personal for her that she expresses it by saying she "sits quietly with Plato." After hearing this from Juanita, I was quite satisfied that the work down in Santa Fe dtning the summers was valuable and incalculably rewarding~ even if it couldn't be measured on any precise scale. lill Justice- I know one student there her spiritual growth didn't actually happen at the school itself she went up into the mountains one day, and when she came back she was altogether a different person - an individual. I just can't say more - I can feel it and I feel it now - the difference in myself - but to put it in to specific terms is very difficult. Ill While I certainly would not want the existence of the Graduate Institute to rest solely on this kind of support, nevertheless, such testimonials of the benefits it has brought to older people who have participated fully in the graduate program should be taken seriously. These interviews have struck me as showing that the impact of the Institute on at least these three graduates has noticeably, even dramatically, changed whether, and in what way, the graduate program could be called practical. Her reply was an enthusiastic agreement as to its practicality in several senses. At first she repeated the way in which the methods and some books were of direct applicability to the high school classroom. But then she added that it helped her use her imagination to play out many alternatives to problems - to follow consequences of opinions and actions in your mind - to compare options, in a way she had never been able to before. She thought she had, in that respect, acquired a new freedom which probably would not have come about without the experience of the Institute. As we know, while there are many differences between the undergraduate and the graduate programs of St. John's, there are also important similarities. And, concentrating on the similarities, Mary Pat offered the valuable opinion that the Graduate Institute has this most important role -to play: that she believes she would not have been able to put the undergraduate program to the best use for herself - she does not think she was ready for it at age 17 or 18. But after completing her undergraduate work elsewhere, and working for a few years, she was able to appreciate and put to maximum use what the Graduate Institute bad to offer her. IIi them, in their opinion, for the better. None of them would likely have been ready for, or financially able to, attend the St. John's undergraduate program. Tnerefore, if the sort of personal profit each interviewee speaks of is available through our graduate program, then this evidence speaks strongly in support of the view that we are doing something right in our summer program at Santa Fe.l!i.l 17 �Mark Van Doren (continued) Black Mountain (continued) He was one of the great teachers of our time. Generations of Columbia students thought no one had really been through the University who had not been in at least one of his courses. His admiring students are numberless, and most of us at St.John's count ourselves among them. It is hard to say what makes a great teacher, but with Mr. Van Doren it was his live and easy learning, his quality of being a marvelous listener, his intelligent sympathy and enormous courtesy. While talking to him you always had the sense that he was really interested, however incredibly, on what you were saymg. There is one other thing I should like to say about Mark Van Doren that seems to me of tremendous importance to all of us now, and perhaps especially to you. He was American to the core of his being. He could not have happened in another country. His virtues were the best of what is American. He was hom in Illinois, and one of his heroes was Abraham Lincoln. He had read, I suppose, every word of Lincoln's and everything written about him. In homage to that memory he wrote a very good play, The Last Days of Lincoln. I think this is important to say now because we are no longer sure what it is to be an American, no longer sure how to hold up our heads in the world as Americans. To remember Mark Van Doren is to remember who we are, or ought to be -what we can be. It is a great temptation to read many of Mark Van Doren's words, for he was a man of wonderful words, and in the end I suppose we shall mostly remember his wonderful voice. At least I shall. But for now I think we should read only the farewell he wrote for himself. It says much, maybe everything, in brief. looking back at the second large exodus, "You might say an attempt to recover our nerve after the 1944 split never quite worked." Dreier himself, with the last of the old guard from the early years of Black Mountain, left in 1949, and Black Mountain in the fifties was, under Charles Olson, more an art colony than a college. The Black Mountain School of poets and writers, some of whom were at the College only briefly, dates from this period. In 1956 the last two faculty members decided to "knoc~ it off, close the place." Duberman's interests in ''anarchism, unstructured education, 'group process', the possibilities (and history) of communal living" were what led him to write this history, for Black Mountain combined these interests. But Duberman also thinks that a historian has the duty to put himself into the history - by taking part in the story to expose his biases, personal reactions, problems with the material, judgm.tnts, and so forth. In his reactions to the arguments and experiments at Black Mountain College, Duberman discusses his own ideas of education. For example, he includes a long section from a journal he kept on a seminar he taught. It does explore the difficulties in teaching via an unstructured "group process," but one wonders how much help it offers in understanding Black Mountain. Sometimes Duberman is downright obtrusive, as when he inserts his comments into the transcript of a 1936 Black Mountain College faculty meeting as if he were actually present and taking part in the discussion. The most valuable parts of Duberman's participation are not his comments and ideas nn education, but his notes on the difficulty of writing the history. In seeing his involvement, his problems, one can appreciate what Black Mountain was: an in tensely personal, intensely experimenting college/ community, building itself around men like Josef Albers and their ideas, sacrificing the safety of structure for the risks of continuing growth and change. Farewell and Thanksgiving Whatever I have left unsaid When I am dead, 0 Muse, forgive me. You were always there Like light, like air, Those great good things Of which the least bird sings, So why not I? Yet thank you even then, Sweet Muse. Amen. 18 Michael W. Ham �I NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES NEIDORF APPOINTED DEAN IN SANTA FE President Richard D. Weigle has announced that the Board of Visitors and February Governors meeting at its appointed Mr. Neidorf is married to the former Mary Frances Morris of Lima, Ohio. They met at the University of Chicago, where she received her M.A. from the Divinity School. They have two children, David, 15, and Julie, 12. DEAN GOLDWIN GOES TO NATO Robert Neidorf Robert A. Neidorf as Dean at Santa Fe, effective July 1. Mr. Neidorf will succeed William A. Darkey, whose five-year term as Dean will end June 30. Mr. Darkey will take a sabbatical leave before returning to teach in the fall of 19 7 4. Mr. Neidorf taught at St.John's in Annapolis from 1962 to 1964 and he has been at Santa Fe since 19 6 7. He also has directed the summer Graduate Institute Robert A. Goldwin, Dean of the College in Annapolis since 1969·; has accepted appointment as Special Assistant to the U.S. Ambassador to The North Atlantic Treaty Organization, the Honorable Donald Rumsfeld. The Goldwin family left for Brussels on April 1. Mr. Goldwin, a graduate of the class of 1950, had taught politicial science at the University of Chicago and Kenyon College before joining St. John's faculty as Dean. He received the M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Chicago. ACTING DEAN Elliott Zuckerman, a Tutor since 19 61, has been named Acting Dean in Annapolis, replacing Robert Goldwin. Mr. Zuckerman holds A.B., M.A., and Ph.D. degrees from Columbia University and B.A. and M.A. degrees from Cambridge University. Mr. Zuckerman was Director of the Graduate Institute in Santa Fe Elliott Zuckerman m 1968 and 1969. He is the author of The First Hundred Years of Wagner's Trz"stan. SANTA FE HAS FIRST JANUARY FRESHMAN CLASS in Liberal Education since 1970. He has taught philosophy at Bucknell University and the State University of New York at Binghamton. Mr. Neidorf received his B.A. and M.A. degrees from the University of Chicago and a Ph.D. in philosophy from Yale University. llis textbook on logic, Deductive Farms, was published by Harper & Row in 196 7. Shorter articles have appeared in Bucknell Review, Philosophy of Science and The College. ELLIOTT ZUCKERMAN NEW Robert Goldwin Among Mr. Goldwin's publications are Readings in World Politics, Readings in American Foreign Policy, Beyond the Cold War, America Armed and Why Foreign Aid. The first January freshman class at Santa Fe was enrolled this year with 15 students. Six of the 15 had attended other colleges. The new students were older on the average than most freshmen and had more varied backgrounds, Admissions Director Gerald Zollars reported. One had just completed Army service; another worked on a fishing boat off Alaska; one lived in a kibbutz in Israel and worked in Greece, and another gave up a National Merit Scholarship last year so he could travel in Europe. 19 �The freshmen represented nine states. Four were Mexico, three from from New Texas, two from California, and one each from Maryland, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Oklahoma, New Jersey, and Minnesota. At the same time Annapolis began its sixth January Freshman class. Michael Ham, Director of Admissions, reported that the 21 new freshmen came from 13 states including Maryland, Virginia, New Jersey, New York, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Alabama, Oregon, and California. Cornell, Inc., of Clovis, N. M., at a cost of about $400,000. The St.John's College Board of Visitors and Governors plans to join the College community in the dedication of this most attractive and useful center at the Board's May 19th meeting in Santa Fe. BOARD APPOINTS FIVE NEW TUTORS Five' new Tutors, four for Santa Fe and one for Annapolis, were appointed by the Board of Visitors and Governors at its February meeting. Three of the Santa Fe appointees are honors graduates of the class of 1967: William H. MUSEUM AND FINE ARTS Donahue, who has been studying at BUILDING RISES ON King's College, Cambridge; James R. Mensch, who received an M.S.L. SANTA FE CAMPUS degree in 1970 from the Pontifical Although workmen were Institute of Mediaeval Studies in hampered by one of the most Toronto; and Howard Zeiderman, severe winters in Santa Fe history, the newest addition to the western who received an M.A. in philosophy campus is scheduled for completion from Princeton University in 1972. Also appointed to the Santa Fe before the end of the academic faculty was Richard L. Michaud, year. The Sternberger-Weiss Music who holds an A.B. degree from St. Michael's College in Vermont and a and Fine Arts Building is, for the most part, the gift of an alumnus Ph.D. from the University of Vermont, College of Medicine. Mr. and Board member, Mr. Jac Michaud is currently an Assistant Holzman '52, of New York. It will be dedicated to his grandparents. Professor in the Science DepartThe furnishings will be donated by · ment of Webster College in St. his mother, Mrs. Jacob E. Holzman. Louis. The Board appointed Mr. Leo The 10,428-square-foot strucFerraro Raditsa to the Annapolis ture will house the music library with reading areas and listening faculty. Mr. Raditsa is an historian holding the B.A. degree from carrels, two music seminar rooms, Harvard College, and M.A. and eight practice rooms, a large listening lounge, a painting studio, a Ph.D. degrees from Columbia University. He has been a Fulbright ceramics room, and an office for an scholar and a professor of history at artist-in-residence. It will include New York University. the most modem sound recording, projection and listening equipment SENIORS RECEIVE available. WATSON FELLOWSHIPS The exteriors will reflect the modified Territorial style of the Three St. John's seniors have other buildings on campus and the been appointed Thomas J. Watson historic character of its South- Fellows for 1973. They are western setting. The new building is Prudence E. Davis and Jan L. being constructed by John C. Huttner, Annapolis, and Mark D. 20 Jordan, Santa Fe. Miss Davis, whose home is in Whiting, Indiana, will study European needlework, embroidery and tapestry in the United Kingdom, France and Russia. Miss Huttner, of Livingston, New Jersey, will study Israeli educational administration in Israel. Mr. Jordan, Dallas, Texas, plans a "liturgical year" in monasteries of France and Spain. The Watson Fellows were chosen by The Thomas J. Watson Foundation of Providence, Rhode Island, from 140 nominees from 35 colleges. CHARLES BELL CONDUCTS GRADUATE PRECEPTORIAL This year for the first time St. John's in Santa Fe is offering a program of graduate study during the regular academic year. The preceptorial, "Dimensions in History," is under the direction of Charles G. Bell, a longtime St. John's Tutor with many years of study in philosophy and the fine arts. In addition to five outside graduate students, Santa Fe Tutors Sam Brown, Frank Flinn, Roger Peterson and Ralph Swentzell are participating in the preceptorial as a study group. The program is being funded in part by a Ford Foundation Venture Grant. The first semester dealt with the transformation in Western Civilization which took place from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance, while the second semester has focused on the Revolutionary and Romantic upheave! around 1800. Studies are particularly directed towards the role played in each of the transformations by the several arts. A public by-product of the course was a series of Sunday evening programs on "Studies in Cultural History" with slides, music, and readings, presented by Mr. Bell and other tutors. �Eugene]. McCarthy LIBRARY ASSOCIATES DONATE VOLUMES The Library Associates of St. John's College in Santa Fe have given seven sets of literary, religious and scientific reference works to the College. Funds for the purchase of the volumes, selected by the library staff and faculty, came from the proceeds of the four Book and Author Luncheons sponsored by the Associates in Santa Fe during 1972. Another series is planned for 1973 with the first noontime pro· gram scheduled on April 13 with the following speakers: Cartoonist Bill Mauldin; Bertha Dutton, expert on Southwestern Indian culture; and Dr. Marcus J. Smith, author of Dachau. The new additions to the College Library are: The Oxford Illustrated Jane Austen (6 volumes); La Bible de Jerusalem ( 4 3 fascicles with notes and commentary); The Encyclopedia Judaica (16 volumes); The Cambridge Bible Commentary on the New English Bible (27 val· umes); The Selected Correspondence of Michael Faraday (2 val· umes); Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon (5 volumes); and The "New York Edition" of the Works of Henry James (26 volumes). EUGENE MCCARTHY LECTURES AT ANNAPOLIS Former Senator Eugene J. McCarthy delivered the formal lecture on the Annapolis campus on February 2. His topic was "Poetry and Politics"; the lecture consisted principally of readings of poetry written by Mr. McCarthy and others. The former presidential candidate has published one volume of poetry, Other Things and The Aardvark (Doubleday, 1970). Since retiring from the Senate in 1971, Mr. McCarthy has been writing, lecturing, and teaching. He is currently a senior editor at Simon & Schuster, Inc., in New York and a lecturer and seminar leader at The New School for Social Research. FACULTY NOTES FROM ANNAPOLIS Louis N. Kurs, Tutor in Anna· polis, has been appointed Visiting Lecturer in The Civil Decisions Quantification Program in the College of Earth Sciences of the University of Arizona for the academic year 1973-74. Mr. Kurs' wife Alice will be studying com- puter technology for application to her teaching at Annapolis High School. Elliott Zuckerman, the Acting Dean in Annapolis, has written a paper, "Nietzsche and Music: The Birth of Tragedy and Nietzsche Contra Wagner" which will appear in a special issue of Symposium magazine. Annapolis Tutor Robert S. Ze.lenka had two translations published in the Fall 1972 issue of Proteus: "Deathfuge" by Paul Cclon, translated from German; and "The Ruin," anonymous, translated from Anglo-Saxon. Ray Williamson and Howard Fisher, Tutors in Annapolis, are coauthors (with Mr. Williamson's wife Abby) of "The Astronomical Record in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico," a paper to be read by Mr. Williamson in Mexico City at the June Meeting of The American Association for The Advancement of Science. Mr. Williamson is also the co-author of "The Velocity Structure of The Triffid Nebula" soon to be published in Astronomical Journal. Simon Kaplan, Tutor Emeritus, has published a translation of Hermann Cohen's The Religion of Reason out of the Sources of Judasim. The book has an in traduction by Mr. Kaplan and an introductionary essay by Leo Strauss, Scholar-in-Residence on the Annapolis campus. The February 1973 issue of The American Mathematical Monthly included an article entitled "The Lecture Method in Mathematics: A Student's View," by Michael W. Ham, Director of Admissions and Tutor in Annapolis. Soon after publication, Mr. Ham received a complimentary letter from R. H. Bing, the well-known topologist from the University of Wisconsin, who noted that he had distributed copies of the article to his staff and teaching assistants. 21 �ALUMNI ACTIVITIES DONOHUE COLLECTS HONORS John C. Donohue '35 received two well-deserved honors during the past several months. For his professional accomplishments he received the George S. Robertson Award for 197 3, and for his athletic prowess he was inducted into the Maryland Athletic Hall of Fame. The Robertson Award is given annually by the Baltimore Life Underwriters' Association for accomplishments and sustained activity in the interests of the insti- was referee for the Duke-Oklahoma Orange Bowl game. John's selection for the Hall of Fame brings to six the number of St. John's men who have been so honored. In order of their selection they are: Edmund P. (Ned) Duvall '05; Valentine (Dutch) Lentz '18; Robert (Bobby) Pool '3l;John N. Qohnny) Wilson '13; and Richard T. (Dick) Porter '22. Plaques commemorating the exploits of these athletic greats are on display in the lower lobby of the Civic Center in Baltimore. HOMECOMING DATES SET IN ANNAPOLIS Homecoming. The awards are made to alumni for "distinguished and meritorious service to the United States or to his native state or to St. John's College, or for outstanding achievement in his chosen field." Nominations, accompanied by sufficient biographical data to substantiate the recommendation, should be forwarded to the Alumni Office, addressed to President Gessner. Deadline for submissions is August 1st. CHAPTER ACTIVITIES The Annapolis chapter has had several interesting speakers over the This year we have paid particular attention to boat shows, Navy John C. Donohue tution of life insurance as viewed in retrospect and in conformation with the highest standards of professional conduct. Donohue's athletic interests and ability were recognized early, when in 1931 as a senior at Mt. St. Joseph High School he was voted Baltimore's outstanding athlete. In the next four years at St.John's he earned nine letters in football, basketball, and lacrosse. He was an All-America selection in lacrosse his last two years. After graduation John coached at St. John's, Mt. St. Joseph, and at the Naval Academy. He was for many years a highly respected official in football, lacrosse, and basketball. In 1965 he 22 home football games, and other annoying but unavoidable considerations, and have concluded that Homecoming 197 3 must take place on Friday and Saturday, September 29th and 3Oth. This is the year for reunions for 1913, 1923, 1933, etc. DO NOT wait for the Alumni Office to· prod your class into organizing. One or two in each class should start work now, writing, calling, planning. That's the only way anything worthwhile is going to happen. From this end we hope to have general plans worked out and published early in the summer. For now, just mark your calendars and start writing letters. AWARD OF MERIT Association President Bernard F. (Bunny) Gessner urges all alumni to think about the possible nominations for the 19 7 3 Alumni A ward of Merit. At present up to three awards are authorized each year, with presentations normally made at Robert L. Spaeth past several months. Most recently Lt. Gen. Ridgely Gaither '24 talked about his job as Police Commissioner of Annapolis; earlier speakers were John C. Donohue '35 reporting on his service as head of the Baltimore Board of Election Supervisors, and editor and Tutor Robert Spaeth reminiscing about his term as an Annapolis councilman. The weekly Baltimore luncheon group now meets at Humperdinkers, 20 East Fayette Street, second floor, at 12:30 p.m. on Tuesdays. March 20th was the date of the first New York Group seminar, led by Annapolis Tutors John F. White '64, and Acting Dean Elliott Zuckerman. The second and third seminars are scheduled for April 24th and May 22nd. �Reflections on a Homecoming The following letter was written for at least two reasons: to answer one from Thomas Parran, Jr., Alumni Director at Annapolis, and to respond to a request from Dean Robert Goldwin to write about the author's reactions to the College. The author, a graduate in the Class of 1947, is professor and head of the philosophy department at Mary Washington College, Fredericksburg, Va. He worked at the College a while after graduation, leaving in 1950 to go to Korea with the Marines. Except to attend the dedication of the Key Memorial and Mellon Hall in 1959, he did not return until Homecoming 1972.-Ed. November 24, 1972 Dear Tom: ... I suppose an alumnus of any college has very poignant feelings when he returns from a long absence. There is so much about the -atmosphere at St. John's which is unchanged from 30 years ago .• it is almost overwhelming. I took the trouble to walk about a bit on my own and set foot in almost every building of the college. I also attended the seminar on graduate schools and job opportunities. The one thing that impressed me most of all was the students. Almost without exception they were polite, very open, friendly, and interested in seeing a middle-aged alumnus. It was almost as if they had received a battalion order to 'be nice to the old coots or else.' (I say that because I am sure no such directive was issued.) I can only conclude that you have recruited an outstanding student body, and, as an educator, I envy you. I was a bit disappointed that there were not more of my old friends back for the reunion, and this produced a feeling of guilt in me for I know how one asks why it is that we 'old New Program alumni' don't support alunmi doings more faithfully? For surely we who date from the Barr and Buchanan days have St. John's stamped on our very souls. This is a very troublesome question and I'm sure more talented 'old New Programmers' than I have wrestled with it. For what they are worth, I share with youth( following highly subjective observations and suggestions. The physical environment of the College is very, very moving to an alumnus. You are doing a remarkable job in keeping the corpus in a high state of preservation. One can quibble over the King William Roqm and a few other nitpicks but by and large the atmosphere is spookily the same (catch that adverb!) as it was almost 30 years ago. And yet the very sophistication induced by the program tends to immunize us from being seduced by that kind of nostalgia. I am sure the alumnus of any college in America has deep, important, and. tender feelings when he returns to his college, but his college experience has not immunize<;! him from wanting to return in a sentimental orgy to his dear old alma mater. I think that the St.John's Program isolates its students in a very close, intense and soul-remaking experience. The College vomits its students forth and they keep on going, never looking back. Who is to say whether or not such an apron-string cutting is bad? All of us who have graduated from the College return to our alma mater every time we look at our libraries. Those sly old master artificers who concocted the Program were not just mouthing platitudes when they said that the books were, in the end, the teachers at St. John's. When McDowell Hall, the wonderful tutors, the games on back campus, the jug-a-lug in Chase-Stone have all faded into nothingness, the Great Books will remain. We, who have been privileged to attend St. John's, commune with her every time we step into our studies and open up and read one of the books. Boiled down to their essentials, the two points I have made above mean that you, as alumni director, have a very difficult task. The College will always tend to produce alumni who have been profoundly affected by it but [who] will never look back, and [who] will manifest their loyalty ... by continuing to reflect and read rather than reach for the old check book. I am sure this is nothing new but these thoughts have struck me as I ponder my recent delightful visit .... Sincerely, George M. Van Sant CLASS NOTES 1922 just before going to press we received a fine letter from S. Den mead Kolb, reporting on his recent visit with Dr. Rafael Rodriguez-Molina at the latter's home in Santurce, Puerto Rico. Kolb, his wife, Kitty, and their youngest son, Charles, were in Puerto Rico in January, and had dinner with Roddy, as he was known here, his wife Marian, and their daughter Anna and son Manuel. Two older offspring are married. Roddy has had a most successful medical practice, and retired a few years ago from the U. S. Army Medical Corps with the rank of colonel, 1928 Lout's L. Snyder was recently nam_ed to the Editorial Advisory Board of the Canadt'an Revt"ew of Studt"es ~·n Natt"onaUsm. Lou continues to make his mark as an author; his The Imperialism Reader: Documents and Readings on European Expanst"onism -has just been reprinted by the Kennikot Press, Port Washington, N. Y ., while The Dreyfus Case was released by the Rutgers University Press in january. Charles S. Smith is the new director of the property management division of Donald E. Grempler Realty, Inc.; a Baltimore area firm. Smith has been active in real estate work since the mid-1940's. He makes his home in the Roland Park area of Baltimore. 1954 Merle and Priscilla ('55) Shore have opened a second location for their shop, The Village Frame. They had their opening in the new Ruth Shaffer Gallery in Santa Barbara on january 6th. 1955 Donald A. Phillips is now Alcoholism Program Manager for the Civil Service Commission in Washington. January was a good month for letters; Evajane (Duvall) McKenney writes that she will graduate this J unc with an associate degree in nursing from Northern Essex Community College in Haverhill, Mass. She hopes to go on to earn her B.S. degree in nursing with a minor in natural science. 23 �Evajane is married to a disabled veteran, has two married stepsons, three grandchildren, and two teenage daughters. 1957 As noted in the February Alumni Association newsletter, the name of Navy Cdr. H. Allen Stafford was on the prisoner lists pubtished by the North Vietnamese in January, He was released in mid-March and, according to press reports, was met by his wife when he arrived at Clark AFB in the Philippines. Al, a Navy carrier-based pilot, was shot down over Haiphong on August 31, 1967, while on his 31st combat mission, 1962 John Franklin Miller in January became the director of Hampton House, a National Historical Site located near Towson, just north of Baltimore. After graduation from St. John's, John earned a B.D. degree from Yale, and then taught elementary school in Anne Arundel and Washington Counties in M~land. Since 19 69 he has been doing graduate work in art and architectural history at the University of Maryland, as well as teaching 'at Maryland and at Mont· gomery Junior College. 1963 Daniel T. Devereux writes that he is teaching philosophy at the University of Vrrginia, and is especially pleased to have Evan Dudik '72 and Dennis Berg '71 in his seminar. Robert K. Thomas is currently enrolled in full-time. French language training at the Foreign Service Institute in Washington, in preparation for his new assignment as the deputy public affairs advisor to the U.S. delegation to the United Nations. Bob says that the U.S, mission is right across the street from the United Nations headquarters in New York, and that all St. Johnnies would be welcome. He also teJls us that Dr. Oliver M. Korshin is studying Russian at the Foreign Service Institute. Ollie is slated to head the Russian-D. S. health exchange, Bob reports. 1964 Patricia {Carney) Ceccarelli is a· housewife and stUdent, attending the University of Nottingham, England. Miss Barbara Leonard recently passed to us a long, news-filled letter from Barbara {Kulacki} Vona. We knew that Barbara has been giving her time to the New York Alumni Group as editor of the Group News· letter, but we didn't realize what a busy girl she- has been since she and Dan ('67) left Annapolis. In 1967 she began independent research in the History of Science, special· izing in Martin Delrio, a 16th Century Spanish theologian, lawyer, and man of 24 letters. She has been preparing the first English translation from the Latin of his Disquisitionum Magicarum. In 1970 at Oxford she became a Bodleian Reader; last summer she participated in the first symposium on the History of Modern Science at the International School, Enrico Fermi, Lake Como, Varenna, Italy. She is currently negotiating with the University of Texas Press for publication of her transla· tion. In her spare time she has helped with a New York Assembly campaign as Environmental Chairman for a candidate. She now hopes to enter law school, where she would like to concentrate in the areas of Taxation and Land Use. After her schooling she wants to work on planning and writing tax legisla· tion, and on sound planning for new urban areas and renewal of the old. 1966 A brief note from Barbara Hockman's mother advises that Barbara, after teaching in Japan until May 1972, has been traveling in Asia, and is presently in India. William N. McKeachie, after two years as assistant chaplain, St. John's College, Oxford, returned last year to Canada, where he is special assistant to the Bishop of Toronto. 1967 Meredith Burke informs us that Fred Fedderson and his wife are expecti~g -a baby. They live at 33 Marlowe's Road, London W. 8, England. 1970 Miss Miriam Strange has sent along a letter from Katharine Beckman, bringing us up to date on her life since she left St. John's. A year was spent in Stockholm, where she was a page in the Australian Embassy. After a year at American University in Washington she received her B.A. degree in English. Since September 1970 she has been in Gambridge, Mass., first as a secretary to a neuroanatomist at M.I.T., more recently working for the Massachu· setts Drug Commission. Word reaches us through his father that Stephen ]. Forman, now a junior at the University of Southern California Medical School, has completed a year-long research project, has had the paper thereon published in the official publication of The American Federation of Clinical Research, and read the paper in January at a meeting of the Western Society for Clinical Research in Carmel, California. The paper was entitled Red Cell Me_mbrane Deformity in Uremic Hemodt'alyzed Patients. 1971 James R. Hal now lives in Felton, Pa., and is District Manager for the York Daily Record, Jeffrey Cole Kitchen is reported by his parents to be quite successfully involved in the Ph.D. degree program in applied mathematics at Johns Hopkins University. 1972 Cynthia {Stratton) Dourmashkin reports that she and Tom ('69} have a son, Jordan Thomas, born on December 17th. Tom is enrolled in pre-medical courses at Columbia University and hopes to enter medical school in the fall of 1974. Cindy says she is enjoying motherhood and is very happy. Ellen Hearne (SF) writes that she has now graduated from the University of North Carolina at Asheville with distinction in art, Her senior showing in pottery in December received excellent coverage in the press. She was commended not only for her pottery but also for the fact that she constructed her own kiln, with which she could fire stoneware up to 2,300 degrees Fahrenheit. Since leaving St. John's, she studied at Penland School of Crafts, North Carolina, rmder Cynthia Bringle, and Jater at the University of North Carolina under Gene Bunker. Probably: the most recent alumnus to enter the field of journalism is Thomas R. Ascik, now a copy boy with the Washing· ton, D. C. Star·News. In what woUld seem to be a most unusual opportunity for a young journalist, Tom recently. interviewed Dr. Andre Helleger, director of the Kennedy Institute for the Study of Human Reproduction and Rio-Ethics. The inter· view, concerning the recent Supreme Court decision on abortions, was. published in the Sunday, March 4th, edition of the newspaper. On the evidence thuS far, Tom has a very bright journalistic futtire~ In Memoriam 19 08 Harold Hardinge, Jr., Ventnor, N.J., December 16, 1972. 1922 -The Rev. William R. Horney, Centreville, Md., November 27, 1972. 1924 - James B. Robertson, Jr;, Baltimore, Md., December 31, 1972. 1926 - The Rev. Robert L. Bull, Columbus,Ohio,January 15,1973. 1931 - Emanuel Klawans, Annapolis, Md., February 8, 197 3. 1931 -James D. Morris, Baltimore, Md., March 5, 1973. 1934 Charles P. Clark, Jr., Summit, N.J., February 21,1973. 1935 - Harry Ferguson, Belmont, Cal., February 7, 1973. �RESOLUTIONS The College mourns the death of two of its closest friends and supporters. Mark Van Doren, former member of the Board and Honorary Fellow, died on December 10, 1972. Bromwell Ault, a former chairman, and most recently an honorary Board member, died in New York City December 29, 1972. The following resolutions were adopted at the February 24 meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors. MARK VAN DOREN RESOLVED, that this Board of Visitors and Governors has learned with great sadness of the death of Mark Van Doren, a member of the Board from 1943 to 1953 and an Honorary Fellow of the College since 1959. In him the gifts of the poet, scholar, critic and teacher were greatly one. He was one of those few men who helped to conceive the St. John's Program in its beginning. Through his writings and his regular lectures on poetry and poets, he taught generations of St. John's students and faculty. He was a strong contributor to the work of St. John's College in America. The College was privileged to claim his warm and steady friendship. FURTHER RESOLVED, that the Secretary be instructed to convey to Mrs. Dorothy Van Doren, his wzfe, and to Charles Van Doren and John Van Doren, her sons, copies of this Resolution together with expressions of the Board's deepest sympathy. BROMWELLAULT RESOLVED, that this Board of Visitors and Governors has learned with profound sorrow of the death of Bromwell Ault, a member of this Board for some twenty-five years. Bromwell Ault was the finest exemplar of a man in the world of business who also devoted himself to his family, to his church, to his community, and to education. Though his primary loyalties were to Andover and Yale, the institutions from which he graduated, he was fascinated by the challenge of St. John's educational program and adopted this College when he joined its Board in the late 1940's. He served for a period as its chairman and in more recent years he has been an honorary member. His was an active and imaginative mind, evolving ideas and projects which might be beneficial to St. John's College. FURTHER RESOLVED, that the Secretary be instructed to convey to Allie Burchenal Ault, his wife, and to Burchenal Ault and Browell Ault, his sons, copies of this Resolution together with expressions of the Board's gratitude and admiration for his life and its deepest sympathy for his family. 25 �A familiar figure on the Annapolis campus, Campus Guard Melvin N. Wilkerson, Jr. PHOTO CREDITS: Front cover, Sheldon C. Heitner, '75. Inside Front cover, Malcolm Handte, '75, Eugene lorgov, '75. Page 3, Robert Nugent. Page 4, Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting. Page 9, Eugene lorgov, '75. Pages 12 and 13, Michaer Johnson, Burton Blistein. Page 19, Sheldon C. Heitner, Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting. Page 21, Bill Grady. Page 22, Valley Studios, Tom Parran, Jr. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 25 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1973 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Spaeth, Robert Louis Parran, Jr. Thomas Campbell, John Randolph Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Description An account of the resource Volume XXV, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1973. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_25_No_1_1973 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/4e4fc4b21b698e1c9ecddc96ab991a62.pdf 6f1dd5554f24daf8befbcd4c9c581090 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico July 1973 �THE COLLEGE Vol. X)W July, 1973 No.2 Editor: Robert L. Spaeth Alumni Edttor: Thomas Farran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: Michael W. Ham, Paul D. Newland, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout, '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt. THE COLLEGE is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President. Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. .Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Mary· land, and at other mailing places. IN THE JULY ISSUE: Speech, Its Strength and Its Weaknesses. by Jacob Klein 1 Two Sorts of Poetic Revision. by Charles G. Bell 7 An Interview with Alvin Fross and Peter Weiss. by Robert L. Spaeth 11 Commencement Address-Annapolis 1973 by Ford K. Brown 17 Profile: Louis L. Snyder, '28. . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Graduation 1973 22 ........... News on the Campuses 24 Alumni Activities 26 Valery's "Poesie," translated by Timothy Born. 29 ON THE COVER: Ford K. Brown, the Annapolis commencement speaker for 1973. Mr. Brown has been on the St. John's faculty since 1925. He is now a Tutor Emeritus. �SPEECH, Its Strength and Its Weaknesses by JACOB KLEIN To undertake to speak about speech means to embark upon an endless task. Yet there are strict limits that I have to observe and to be aware of: limits of time, of redundancy, of attentiveness on your part. I shall have to focus your attention on what people mostly concerned about speech have said. These were the people whom we call oi cfnA6aocf>o,, the "lovers of wisdom" among the Greeks. But I shall also have to appeal to an understanding of what usually happens to speech, to an understanding which those people do not seem to have had. I shall be as brief as possible, and I hope you will not mind my carefulnay, my pedantic use of English and Greek words. (Parenthetical remark: some of what I am going to say I have said before in lectures and in print, but not all of it.) Let me begin by quoting from Plato's dialogue entitled Phaedo. This dialogue pretends to describe what happened during the very last day of Socrates. Attentive reading shows that the content of the dialogue is mythical, but that the mythical frame allows us to become aware of what Plato understood to be Socrates' unique and overwhelming impact. At a crucial point of the dialogue (95 E ff.) Socrates, after silently looking back into himself for quite a while, reaches-in speaking-far back into his own youth. He wanted very much, he reports, to find out, with regard to any single thing or occurrence, what was responsible for its coming into being, its passing away, its being the way it was; but he could not find any satisfactory answers. Nor could he learn anything from acnybody else, not even from the great Anaxagoras. He had to abandon the way in which questions like these were dealt with in the various versions of the "inquiry into nature" (7rEpt Jacob Klein is a Tutor Emeritus on the Annapolis campus. This lecture was delivered at Annapolis in February, 1973. ¢1~t:n:w; iuropla). He decided to embark upon a different journey, a SCcond journey", which means, he decided to take to the oars, since the wind had failed. This is the presentation he makes of his new endeavor. By looking directly at whatever presents itself in om familiar world, at things and their properties, at human affairs and actions, we run the risk of being blinded, as people do when they observe the sun during an eclipse, if they do not look at its image on some watery surface. That may well have happened to those investigators of nature. To avoid being blinded, Socrates thought he had to "have recourse to spoken words" ( cl-; Toir<; A6ymJsKam¢vyciv) and "see in them the truth of whatever is" (99 E). In the dialogue entitled Philebus, Plato again makes Socrates refer to men engaged in the study of nature (59 A-C): these men want to understand how this world of ours came into being, how it is acted upon and how it acts itself, that is to say, they are trying to discover transient productions of the present, the future and the past, not what unchangeably always is. To discover the immutable it is necessary to rely on the power of discourse ( 1/ roV 8taA€ywBat 8Vvap,t.;;- 57 E), in exchanging questions and answers with oneself and with others. The power of discourse is the power inherent in human speech, this marvel, let me say, this greatest marvel perhaps under the sun. The Greek noun -\6yo' and the Greek verb -\iy<tv have a vast range of meanings. They may refer to reckoning, accounting, measuring, relating, gathering, picking up (let us not forget the English words "collect" and "select", derived from -\iy"v). But, above all, they refer to speaking, discoursing, arguing, discussing, reasoning. That's how we have to understand Aristotle's statement (Politics I,Z, 1253 a 10): A6yov . . . ,Wvov llv0pw7roc;; fxn rWv t~wv, "man alone among living beings possesses speech", and that implies: man alone possesses the ability to understand the 11 I �The College spoken word, to understand articulated speech. We mean by speech-everybody means by it-a sequence of sounds uttered by somebody in such a way as to be understandable to others. The verb "to understand" refers primarily, though not uniquely, to speech. Hearing somebody speak, we may say: "! understand what you are saying". We may, in fact, misunderstand, but even mis~ understanding involves understanding. But what do we understand in hearing somebody speak? Not the sounds in themselves, the audible low and high pitched noises issuing from somebody's mouth (or some machine, for that matter). We hear these noises, but hearing is not understanding. That is why we do not understand speech in a foreign tongue. In a manner which, itself, is hardly or not at all understandable, the sounds carry with them-or embody or represent-something else, precisely that which makes us understand, whenever we understand. This source and target of our understanding consists of units to which single words correspond as well as of combinations of units to which sequences of words correspond. The speaker and the hearer share-or, at least, intend to share-the understanding of those units and of those combinations of units. The speaker transposes what he means into sounding words variably intoned, and the hearer who understands reverses that process in reaching back to the intended meaning. The intended meaning is what the Greeks called To vo1T6v ( vo1 Tav being a verbal adjective of vodv, which means "to receive the intelligible"). Among the intelligible units, the vo1 Ta, there are two kinds: some are intelligi-ble by themselves, some l1elp us to receive those first ones, help us to understand what is being said. Speech and understanding are inseparable. A6yo> means inseparably both speech and that which can be and is being understood in speech. It is in man and, to repeat, only through man that Aoyo> manifests itself conspicuously. Neither birds nor porpoises nor seals have A6yo>, though quire to produce those things, and furthermore, the knowledge that guides his arts and skills, not only to satisfy his most elementary needs, but also to establish customs and institutions in which his life flows from generation to gen- they are able to "communicate" with each other and even characters". Descartes said: "The science contained in the great book of the world ...". Harvey said: "The book of with human beings. We all remember, I think, a phrase that Homer uses so often when describing human speech, the phrase "winged words" ( ii1rm 7Tn:p6£vTa). Whence this image? In most cases the phrase occurs when a personage, a god or a man, addresses another single personage, a god or a man. Occasionally it is also used when someone speaks to a group or a crowd of people. Minstrels in Homer are never said to utter or sing "winged words". Now, words are not called "winged" to indicate their soaring or lofty quality. The image seems rather to imply that words, after escap· ing "the fence of the teeth", as Homer puts it, are guided swiftly, and therefore surely, to their destination, the ears and the soul and the understanding of the addressee. It is more difficult to reach a crowd of men than a single man. Exertions of a special kind are then required. What is speech "about"? About everything man is familiar with-the sky and the earth, the rivers and the sea, the living beings around him, on land, in water, in the air, the things he himself builds and produces, as well as the tools and appurtenances that his arts and skills re2 eration, in happiness or misery, in friendship or enmity, in praise or blame, and to which customs and institutions he is attached beyond his most pressing wants. That is what his speech and his understanding are mostly about. What we say, however circuitously . or confusedly or loosely, is said in words and sentences, each of which conveys immediate meaning. The A6yo~ cannot help moving in the medium of the immediately understandable. But words and sentences can also be involuntarily or deliberately ambiguous. We can play on words. Plato's dialogues, for example, are replete with puns. However, am- biguities and puns are only possible, because words and sentences carry with them several distinct meanings which, separately, are clearly understood. To be sure, speech can be obscure. But it can be obscure only because the clarity of some of its parts impinges, or seems to impinge, on the clarity of others. Speech, then, presents to the understanding of the listener what the speaker himself understands. It presents to the listener nothing but combinations of vo1Jnf, of intelligibles. In doing that, however, speech speaks about all the things and all the properties of things that abound around us, all the special circumstances and situations in which we find ourselves. The question arises: do the vo1Jrtf, the intelligibles, presented to us in speech, have their foundation in themselves, or do they stem from the things and circumstances spoken about? Does not human speech translate the language, the yAwaaa, of the things themselves? Let me turn for a moment to the way things and events around us have been and are being referred to. In Galileo's words: "The book of Nature is written in mathematical Nature lies open before us and can be easily consulted". The phrase "book of Nature" is a metaphor used long before the seventeenth century, but why was this particular metaphor ever chosen? Is it not because Nature is under- stood as something that can be read like a book, provided we know how to read it? But does not that indeed imply a language that is Nature's own? Francis Bacon was of the opinion that Nature is subtly secretive, full of riddles, Sphinx-like. But secrets can be revealed, riddles can be solved in words. We persist, don't we, in solving the "riddles of nature". In ancient times the order of all that exists around us was -taken much more directly as a lan- guage, a language not heard and not written, yet visible, and if not visible, one to be guessed at. Human speech seems indeed to translate that visible or invisible language of things into the audible language of words. And just as the sounds of human speech can be traced down to their ultimate components to which the letters of the alphabet correspond, things around us can be decomposed into their first rudiments-the "elements"-the original letters of the �July 1973 language of things, as it were. Our speech, even our unguarded colloquial way of speaking, may reveal to the attentive listener the hidden articulations of the language of things. Aristotle, no less than Plato, was constantly following up casually spoken words. It seems that Heraclitus, the tjobscure" used the word "logos" in reference to the language of things. Let me quote from the fragments in question. First: "Of the Logos, which is as I describe it, men always prove to be uncomprehending, both before they have heard it and when once they have heard it. For although all things happen according to this Logos, men are like people of no experience, even when they experience such sayings and deeds as I explain, when I distinguish each thing according to its nature and declare how it is; but all the other men fail to notice what they do after they wake up, just as they forget what they do when asleep". Then this: "therefore it is necessary to follow what is common; but although the Logos is common, the many live as though they had their own thoughts". Then this: "Listening not to me, but to the Logos, it is wise to agree that all things are one". And finally, to supplement the last fragment: "Out of all things-one, and out of one -all things". (Kirk and Raven, The Presocratic Philosophers, 1957, pp. 187-188, 191). The Logos makes us understand, if we follow Heraclitus, what the things themselves are saying, brightly and darkly, in tune and out of 1 tune. Speaking and understanding what is being said involves thinking, involves what the Greeks called 8ufvo•a. Let us hear what Plato has to say about the relation of speaking to thinking. In the dialogue entitled The Sophist, in which Plato makes the Stranger from Elea converse with the young mathematician Theaetetus, the Stranger remarks (263 E): "... thought (8ufvo•a) and speech ("-6yo,) are the same, only that the former-that is, 8ufvow.-, which is a silent inner conversation of the soul with itself, has been given the special name of thought". Thinking, as Plato understands it, is not tied to what the moderns mean by the ''stream of consciousness". It can be imagined as a discontinuous, not always regular, stepping forward, and stepping aside, and stepping backward and forward again, what speech, too, usually does. It is necessary to note that for Plato, and for Plato alone, this identity of thought and speech is not a complete one: facing the highest, allcomprehending intelligibles, thought is not able to transpose itself into suitable words. In the seventh letter attributed to Plato we read the phrase "the weakness of spoken words" (-rO nOv A6ywv &.aOEvE,-343 A 1), and the dialogue entitled The Sophist itself shows this weakness rather clearly, as we shall see in a moment. Moreover, speech and thinking can both deceive us, disconnect our steps, and thus distort :md falsify the truth of things. The firework of the sophists, for example,-and there are always sophists around-make things and relations of things assume a most unexpected, dazzling, and puzzling aspect: things suddenly appear not to be what they are. But who is doing the lying, if it be lying, the sophists or the things themselves? A critique of speech and of thinking, a critical inquisition into speaking, thinking and arguing has to be undertaken-as it was undertaken by men as diverse as Parmenides, Prodicus, Plato, Aristotle. The result of this critique can be stated as follows: to speak does not always mean to make things appear in their true light. For Aristotle only one kind of speech, 0 A6yo<> &.7ro¢avnK6<>, the declaratory and revealing speech, and the thinking which belongs to it, translate and present the language of things. To be able to use this kind of speech requires a discipline, the discipline of the Myo,. Everywhere in Aristotle's work, one senses, to the annoyance of some and to the delight of others, the effectiveness of that discipline, the effectiveness of what we call (and the author himself docs not call) the "logic" of Aristotle. (Cf. On Interpretation 5, 17 a 8; 4, 17 a 2; 6, 17 a 25; Posterior Analytics I 2, 72 all.) Given the ever-present possibility of declaratory and revealing speech, Aristotle need not, and does not, set limits to the power of the Logos. For Plato, however, as I have mentioned, there are limits that spoken words cannot transcend. This becomes quite clear in the dialogue entitled Cratylus. In it Socrates first invents fantastically funny "etymologies" of words, etymologies of proper names of heroes and gods as well as of familiar designations given to the ways men behave and think. Socrates then contrives rather playfully (422 E ff.) to describe the letters and syllables of any word as providing an "imitation", a p.lp.ry~<a (423 B; 430 A,B,E; 437 A) of the very being ( o~uia) of what is supposed to be "imitated". T11is "imitation" is also said by Socrates-said more accuratelyto be a udisclosure", a "revelation", a 80Awp.a (425 A,B; 433 B,D; 435 A,B) of the thing in question. Finally the assertion is made that even "revealing" words may well be interpreted as not fostering our understanding. One has to agree, says Socrates, that things which are can be learned and sought for "much better through themselves than through names" (439 B). And that is only possible if what truly is is not subject to change, as Heraclitus claims, but is immutably what it is. Whether this is so or whether what the Heracliteans and many others say is true, is a question difficult to decide, but uno man of sense can help himself and his own soul by relying on names" (440 C). The power of the spoken word is thus a limited one, according to Plato, which makes his dialogues as troublesome and as wonderful as they appear to be. Let me try to show you this by referring to, and quoting from, the dialogue entitled The Sophist. This dialogue is the central piece of a trilogy, namely the trilogy of the dialogues entitled Theaetetus, The Sopl1ist, and The Statesman. The conversations and events which are presented in these mimes are supposed to take place at the very time the suit against Socrates has its beginning-as you can read at the very end of the first piece of the trilogy. V/e find in the second and the third dialogue, namely in The Sophist and in The Statesman, an abundance of so-ca11ed "divisions" (StapEun~) which, in The Sophist, are supposed to be the means to establish what a "sophist" is. Opposed to the udivisions" are the Collections" ( uvvaywyai), and let me quote what, in the 11 3 �The College dialogue entitled Phaedrus, Socrates has to say about these "divisions" and "collections" to that lovable young man, Phaedrus: "Now I myself, Phaedrus, am a lover of these divisions and collections as aids to speech and thought; and if I think any other man is able to see things that can naturally be collected into one and divided into many, him I follow after and walk in his footsteps as if he were a god [this is a playful and ambiguous reference to a line in the fifth book of the Odyssey J. And whether the name I give to those who can do this is right or wrong, god knows, but I have called them hitherto dialecticians" (Phaedrus 266 B·C). Now, the first five "divisions" in the dialogue entitled The Sophist do not reach their goal, except in one very peculiar case. The goal is to establish, as I said, what a "sophist" is. In this dialogue a nameless Stranger from Elea performs these dialectical exercises with the help of young Theaetetus, whose looks resemble those of Socrates (Theaetetus 143 E). Of Theaetetus we also know, from the dialogue that bears his name as well as from other sources, that he was a powerful mathema· tician, especially interested in incommensurable magni- tudes and multitudes. Books X and XIII of Euclid's Elements are based, in part at least, on his work. In the dialogue entitled The Sophist young Thcaetetus is shown to distinguish and to count well, so well, indeed, that he helps us to understand what the Eleatic Stranger, alone, by himself, could not make us understand. Let us see. There are five "divisions" in the beginning of the dia- logue, meant to catch the "sophist". After they have been made they" are counted up by the Stranger and Theaetetus in the following way: "Stranger: First, if I am not mis· taken, he [that is, the "sophist"] was found to be a paid hunter after the young and wealthy. Theactetus: Ycs. Stranger: Secondly, a sort of merchant in articles of know!· edge for the soul. Theactetus: Very much so. Stranger: And tl1irdly, did he not turn up as retailer ( Ka"'J!>.o,) of these same articles of knowledge? Theaetetus: Yes, and fourtl1ly, we found he was a seller of his own productions ( avTom:,J,.~,). Stranger: You remember well" (231 D). I have to interrupt this quoting to check whether Theactetus does remember well. By going back, we see that the Stranger had previously summarized (224 D-E) the third division in these words: "And that part of acquisitive art which proceeds by exchange and by sale in both ways { &p. r:f>o'ripw<>) as mere retail trade ( Ka7T.,AtK6v) or as the sale of one's own production ( aVTmrwAtK6v), so long as it be- longs to the family of merchandising in knowledge, that part you will apparently always call sophistry". Theaetetus had then answered: "Necessarily so, for I have to follow the argument, the i>.oyo,''. Theaetetus remembers well: he remembers that retail trade and also the sale of one's own production had been mentioned, but he forgot, he forgot, the word awpoTlpw' (in both ways), and this makes him add to the third description a new one, which he calls the fourth. Both, his remembering and his forgetting have remarkable consequences. In the counting up of the "clivi· sions" the fourth becomes the fifth, and the fiitl1, which is the one that reaches its goal, namely the correct descrip- 4 lion of the work performed by a quasi-sophist, namely by Socrates himself,- this fifth "division" becomes the sixth. Let us not forget: six is the first 11 perfect" number, and only a "perfect" number is fit to be applied to Socrates' work. But, moreover, the forgetfulness of Theaetetus com· pels us to pay special attention to the word which he forgot, to the word dp,¢o'rEpw<>, or more exactly to the word al'</>w (both) and to its cognates. We become aware that this word is used over and over again in the dialogue. Here is just one example. Speaking of the "sophist", the Stranger remarks at one point (226 A): "Do you see the truth of the statement that this beast is many-sided and, as the saying is, not to be caught with one hand? Tl1eaetetus: Then we must catch him with both". The significance of this word "both" becomes fully apparent when the Stranger and Theaetetus focus their attention on ''Change" (xtV1Jm<>) and "Rest" (anim<>). I shall quote again (250 A-C): "Stranger: You say that Change and Rest are entirely opposed to each other? Theaetetus: How could I say anything else? Stranger: And yet you say that both and each of them equally are. Theaetetus: Ycs, I do. Stranger: And in admitting that they are, are you saying that both and each of them arc changing? Theaetetus: No, no! Stranger: Then, perhaps, by saying that both are, you mean they are both at rest? Thcactetus: How could I? Stranger: Then you put-before you Being (To ov) as a third, as something beside these, inasmuch as you think Rest and Change are embraced by it; and since you comprehend and observe that these commune with Being, are you saying that they both are? Theactetus: We truly happen to divine that )3eing is something tlrird, when we say that Change and Rest are. Stranger: Then Being is not BOTH Cl1ange and Rest TOGETHER, but something else, di/lerent from them. Theae· tetus: So it seems. Stranger: According to its own nature, then, Being is neitl1er at rest nor changing. TlJCaetetus: M-hm (in Greek: ax,86v)". The last statement of the Stranger cannot be taken at face value. And Theaetetus immediately afterwards recognizes that it is totally im· possible for Being to be neither at rest nor changing. The root of the difficulty, of the perplexity in which we, who listen to this conversation, find ourselves is that, in the case of Being, Change and Rest, our human speech, the i>.6yo,, is failing. It is failing when it tries to speak about such greatest "looks" (!'iywTa ,lSr-·245 C 2-3), that is, such all-comprehending vo~nf. Being (To ov), Change { x[v-,.,m.:,;) and Rest ( anfm<>) appear to be three f_Z81J, three "invisible looks", while in truth Change and Rest are C3C EV Q UfL'f'OTfpa OliO • " h OTIC" (EKUTEpOJI ") 3U d"btht WQ "('""' '' "') Botlr together they constitute Being (To ilv). This means that, according to Plato, Being must be understood as the eideti.c Two. The eidetic Two is not a mathematical number of hvo indivisible and indistinguishable monads, among infinitely many such mathematical twos. Nor is it two visible, divisible and unequal things, two houses or two dogs or two apples, for example. The eidetic Two is a unique dyad of two unique EZ81J, of two <lin visible looks", namely of Change and Rest. And just as they both to- �July 1973 gether, and only both together, are the .!So,, the "look", the "invisible look" Being, so the Stranger from Elea and Theaetetus can only both together deal with the question of Being. That's why the Stranger says at one point to Theaetetus (239 C): "let us bid farewell to you and to me". He means that neither he alone nor Theaetetus alone can accomplish the task, but that they can do it only both together. But this they can do "not with complete clarity" (I'~ .,.,;."11 <m.P~v<i~-254 C 6), because they are speaking about it. It is thus that a weakness of speech is revealed in the dialogue entitled The Sophist. But this dialogue also shows why there can he falsehood uttered in speech, why speech can state what is not true. There is, however, a wide spectrum of the un-true, ranging from falsehood to likelihood. This is the background of the dialogue entitled Timaeus, and I would like to quote a passage from this dialogue to make you experience the playful and saddening ambiguity of this passage. It deals with the human mouth. It claims that it was fashioned "for ends both necessary and most good", "as an entrance with a view to what is necessary and as an outlet with a view to what is most good". I keep quoting (75 D-E): "For all that enters in and supplies food to the body is necessary; while the stream of speech which flows out and ministers to thoughtfulness is of all streams the most beautiful and most good". Can we forget how much evil, how much falsehood, how much trifling, how much nonsense also flows out? No, we cannot. But this must be added: in all those cases I just mentioned speech does not minister to thoughtfulness, to ¢p6v~"''· Let me now turn to a character of speech to which the ancients apparently did pay only scant attention. A most remarkable similarity obtains between words, spoken words of live speech, and rnoney,-money, that is, available in coins and bills. Both are precious, both circulate freely, coins and bills from hand to hand, words from mouth to mouth. The imprints on coins and bills are gradually erased, effaced, rubbed off, just as the meanings of words seem to become fuzzy, blurred and empty with the passage of time. There is even counterfeiting in language as there is in money. Human speech can and does deteriorate to an extent which renders it obnoxious, makes it unable to reach anyone, deprives it totally of wings. It was Edmund Husser! who, in modern times, pointed to this inevitable deterioration of human speech. According to him the signifying power of a word has, by its very nature, the tendency to lose its revealing character. T11e more we become accustomed to words, the less we per~ ceive their original and precise significance: a kind of superficial and vague understanding is the necessary result of the increasing familiarity with spoken-and writtenwords. Yet that original significance is still there, in every word, somehow "forgotten", but still at the bottom of our speaking and our understanding, however vague the meaning conveyed by our speech might be. The original "evidence" has faded away, but has not disappeared completely. It need not be ''awakened" even, it underlies our mutual understanding in a "sedimented" form. "Sedimen- tation is always somehow forgetfulness" (Die Frage nach dem Ursprung der Geometri.e als intentional-historisches Problem, first published by Eugen Fink in "Revue internationale de philosophie", I, 2, 1939, p.212). And this kind of forgetfulness accompanies, of necessity, according to Husser!, the development and growth of any science. (The text about the "origin of geometry" appears alsoin a slightly changed form-as the 3rd Appendix to Walter Biemel's edition of the Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Pbenomenology-Husserliana, Vol. VI, 1962-and as the 6th Appendix to David Carr's translation of the "Crisis"-Nortl1western University Press, 1970. The sentence <~sedimentation is always somehow forgetfulness" is omitted in Biemel's and Carr's versions. I assume, however, that this sentence is based on Husserl's own words, uttered in conversation with Fink.) 'T'o be sure, the original evidence can be "reactivated", and indeed is reactivated at definite times. This interlacement of the original significance and of its "sedimentation" constitutes, we read in Husserl's late work, the true character of "history" (Ibid., p. 220). From that point of view there is only one legitimate form of history: the history of human thought. History, in this understanding, cannot be separated from Philosophy. Husserl's own philosophy, as it develops in its latest phase (1935-193'7), is a most remarkable attempt to restore the integrity of knowledge, of /.,.""~"~' threatened by the all-pervading tendency of "sedimentation". It has remained an attempt. But it may help us, in any event, to understand the character of speech, the character of the spoken word. It may help us to be cautious in our speaking and listening. When we hear-or read-words intended to convey opinions about things, about what they are and how they are, it is amazing to observe their almost total dependence on the Latin rendering of crucial Greek, and especially Aristotelian, terms used in searching or revealing speech or, as we say, in "philosophical" discourse. The adoption of this Latin rendering by modern western languages usually involves a radical change and certainly a "sedimentation" of the very meaning of the terms in question. We hear a great deal about pollution today-the pollution of air, water, and land, which burdens our lives. But we hear rarely about the pollution of our language, which burdens our understanding. Our daily language, not to mention the "elevated" language of inquiry and exposition, is perme- ated and polluted by distorted terms in pseudo-Latin or even pseudo-Greek guise. Don't we use words like the following ones all the time: "actual", 11 dynarnic", "potentialities'', "matter", "substance", ''theory", ''information", "energy", "category", "logical", "formal", "abstract"? How strange and how discouraging! Do we know what we mean by these words? I could extend this list quite a bit, but I should like to add only these six terms: "ideal", "essence", "concept", "reality", "individual", and-hor- ribile dictu-"mind". This tendency of 11 Sedimentation" of human speech finds, it is true, its counterpart in the tendency to re- 5 �The College activate its original significance. Beyond that, it may happen that human speech reaches levels previously not experienced at all: they may increase its vigor, lift its signifying power to new heights, elevate it truly. Responsible for this arc mostly-and rarely enough, to be sure-written words. New words or new combinations of words can be "coined", as we so aptly and significantly say. At decisive points in his dialogues Plato resorts to this kind of coining; in the dialogue entitled The Republic, for example, but most notably in the dialogue entitled The Statesman. (We are aware, of course, that Plato's dialogues, although presenting lively spoken words, are the result of uniquely careful editing and writing.) Story-writers engage-sometimes-in this kind of inventive writing, as Joyce and Faulkner did. The most important cases of newly articulated written speech, however, are found in declaratory works which intend to convey knowledge, derived from questioning that is profound and deeply serious. Such works are those of Aristotle, of Hegel who raises Aristotle 6 to new levels, and of Heidegger who opposes Aristotle radically. Their peculiar way of speaking sheds new light on things, on their roots, their relations, their very being. We have to note: none of these authors has written works that are easily translatable,-and this cannot be otherwise. Let me be fair to people of the Latin tongue and, by way of conclusion, quote Virgil, the poet. In a letter to a friend Virgil says that he gives birth to verses in the manner of bears and according to their custom (parere se versus modo atque ritu ursina), that is to say, that he produces his verses the way the mother bear handles her newly born cubs: assiduously and persistently she licks them into their proper shape. Such assiduous work, performed on the written word and undertaken to assure the right articulation of a composed whole, can and does restore and preserve the integrity of human speech. It is thus that the written word repays its eternal debt to the spoken word. II �Two Sorts of Poetic Revision by CHARLES G. BELL I doubt if rules can be given for the making or shaping of poems. Some come easy, some hard, nor will the end product necessarily betray the manner of its birth. Is anything but curiosity to be served by raking up the files? Yet we live in a curious age where the exhibition of process tempts us more than participation in a timeless goal. And what is more immediate than a draft? Charles G. Bell is a Tutor on the Santa Fe campus. His poems, ((Diretro al Sol," ~~Heraclitus in the West," and "Touch~me-not" arc from Songs for a New America (Norman S. Berg, Dunwoody, Ga.). "Moonrise" was published in Contemporary Poets of the English Language (St. James Press, 1970), and "Resonance of Towers" in Quarterly Review of Literature (Princeton, 1972). "A Fly Trown into the Fire" has not been previously published. All poems are copyrighted by Charles G. Bell. The poems in my first two books (Songs for a New America and Delta Return) are mostly statements in the classical manner. They would come to me when I experienced a particular in its universal aspect. I would write the first sketch as fast as my pen would move, and later work it up, trying to bring out its implicit form. By the early 1950's I had turned from the Augustinian drift of my war years toward a celebration of the tragic glory in which I thought of America as living. I was teaching Thucydides in Hutchins' College. One afternoon Elizabeth Mann Borgese drove some of us to a winetasting in the Electric Club high over Chicago, where I sampled maybe thirty kinds of wine. As we raced back south through the evening traffic of the outer drive, a poem came to me. As soon as I could get home to my desk, I dashed off the following lines, though my head swam so I could scarcely hold the pen in my hand: 7 �The College We came out on the high platform above The city of giant endeavor taking below The advance of evening and in reddening glow Clear stars returning, lights of windows round In band and height to the over-pluming skies And cars in streams pouring to the suburb homes. Around us drinking the wines of France Men of every nation with voices not yet hushed By the encroaching shadows, speaking in the Tongues of their native lands, Of women and the world and who should rule, Still free in slams and laughter. And the dusk deepened as the city glowed And out of the past of another great evening Through which the spirit lives came the Voice of Pericles as Athens stood on the Beach of that mad sailing that bore them down. These words echo in the mind. In the living dusk the great towers flash skyward. Along the water front stream the metal cars. Planes above, flashing lights, the destinate roar, South, West and East. And the voices of free men. And we too on the beach of the perilous parting. Well we have lived. To all who may come-by these presentsHere perilous spirit took the dusk on wings. (There wa> also an alternate version of the close): The end is less than the knowledge of having Dared for vision, if only we truly dare; Above the blind world-closure of our wasting Still the incredible promise brightens the shore. Ships sailing to the dark ... And the twilight air ... rustles with the rush of wings. For a week or more afterwards I was working with those notes, actualizing the meter, stanza structure, assonance and rhyme, word repetition, etc. latent there. Here is the result as it appears in my Songs for a New America (the title from Ulysses' "mad flight", Inferno, 26): DIRETRO AL SOL Over the gulf and soaring of the city We came at dusk to the roof-garden rail. Darkness flowed in the streets; the dream-world beauty Of towered steel rose in the violet airBands and heights of light under the sky's plumes; Cars to the suburbs burn the long road lanes. Here on the terrace, drinking wine and eating, People of every nation, hearts unquelled By the encroaching shadows, mingle, speaking Tongues of kindred lands. Their voices tell Of customs and of needs, of the fools who rule; They are loose in talk and laughter, slurs and dreams. 8 And the clouds relinquish the sun's brown setting. Twilight deepens as the city glows. Out of the past of another world-evening Spirit has suffered, a great voice looms; It is Pericles-with Athens at the bourn Of her adventurous sailing into ruin: "We are the school of Bellas. Wonder unending Of after ages will be ours. We have Made sea and land the highway of our daring. If now obedient to the general law We invite decay, the greatness we have known Will he some break of beauty in that gloom." These words echo in the mind. From dark flashing Along the gray shore and the wash of waves, Towers, and cars streaming. Up vibrant air reaching Cones of light catch at the destinate planes. The roar west and east. Here in the hum Of mingled voices, careless freedom sings. And we too have lived the dayspring and daring That all time will remember; we have seen, Over the earth-foreclosure of our wasting, Still the incredible brightening of the dream ..... Now promise is almost presence under the dome Of night stirred with light and the rush of wings. The same method may be illustrated with another poem, a little earlier and darker, ~~Heraclitus in the West". In March of 19 50, as I was walking by Lake Michigan (it becomes the Atlantic in the poem), the setting sun broke from clouds at my back and poured a shaft into the general dark, catching gulls invisible before, shining flecks against the storm. I was teaching The Heart of Darkness; to Conrad's symbol I added that of historical east and west, the turn from the free motion west hack to the church-close of Eliot's surrender. I scribbled five lines: And the streaming sun from behind out east Over the sea; far against the drop of Dark cloud and above the wind-tossed gray The wheeling gulls, before swallowed in fog, Burn silver sparks of searching, motes of fire. To which, on my return to the house, I added (drifting toward prose) : Once we looked west over the sea to the golden oblate And beckoning sun, dropping under the limb of the unAnd the call was westward, touching /explored. the rooks and swallows On the flat land behind, tentative wings sweeping out west over the waves. Here the great globe sets at our hacks behind us, and the call has been followed to the last limb of land, the wall struck and the wave rebounds, drawn now down the stream �July 1973 of spreading rays, east again east, home to the womb and mother, the peaceful church close and garden of old time ... beside the river ... among For months this remained in my pocket, ineluctable. Then I saw it as four five-line stanzas, knit together with the tolling of repeated words (a variant on the line-endings of the Sestina), thirteen in each stanza: sun, behind, east, sea, river, light, dark, cloud, gray, drop, gulls, burn, fire- besides other words echoed, if not so many times: land, call, west, down, up, wind, verge, etc. 'T'he last stanza consciously transcends Spenglerian gloom in a timelessness of light against dark, rounding the poem out with ponderous solidity, at the same time that it sacrifices the broken poignance of the original sketch. For there is no gain, even in art, which is not in some sense a loss. HERACLITUS IN THE WEST "The way up and the way down is the same" And the raying sun from behind breaks out cast Over the sea, opening a river light Into the dark of cloud and the wind-tossed gray; Against that drop, the unguessed wheeling gulls Burn silver sparks of search, volitional fire. Once we looked west over sea to the golden Oblate and beckoning sun dropping without cloud Behind the fired earth's verge; and the call was sunward, Burning rooks and gulls of the dark eastern land, Stirred wings west up rivers of light from the gray. Here the great sun drops at our backs behind us; The call has been followed to the last verge of land, The light struck and the wave rebounds; into dark We burn down rivers of fire, re~entering cloud, Gulls to the gray-walled close by the eastern sea. Sunlight before or behind are tides ·of one motion; The way up and down currents of a single sea; Beyond east or west rounds the gulf of one darkness; And every ray of flight burns rivers of fire, Gulls to the landless drop of the wind-gray cloud. This classical method of revision remains the same, whether the first sketch comes from within, or as often in fiction, from conversations heard. 'T1ms, Christmas vaca- tion of 1951, returning from Mississippi to Chicago on the night train, I waked from a doze to a conversation in- credibly satirizing itself by its own symbols-tourist-talk from the seat in front of me. I took down in the almost dark on an envelope: And the cigar factory, did you go? Yes, we were there. I bought two boxes & the Trocadero (?)with the frosted drinks, diacheris I guess. We bought the banana liquer. Something going on all the day. Cocktails. And we never had to walk. But the people are strangers Very unfriendly & so many beggars. Surely sounds interesting-But did you see the little plant that when you touch it withers all up. No. At the side I scratched: It is the symb. And in a space at the top, an opening first used m the poem, then cut to a line, then revised out: Between waking and sleeping, half in dream I heard this from the new rich on a train. I got another paper as soon as I could and noted some other details they had mentioned, the cruise boat, etc. The poem came out rather easily in ironic half-rhymed couplets (as it appears in the revised version of Songs for a New America): TOUCH-ME-NOT "It was wonderfuL The cruise boat stopped at the stream, And there they brought a barge and put us on. We had the deck with curtains; just below, A marimba band played the whole day through. So we went up the river. It was nice. They have beef steaks at fifty cents apiece, And frosted drinks." "I guess you docked in Cuba?" HFor three days." "Did you see the Tropicana?" 'We were there; the ceiling's made of glass. And we drank daiquiris, I think it was, At forty cents a throw." "Fancy that. I bought banana liqueur." "And on the boat There was something every hour. Cocktails helped. And when we went ashore we never walked." "Did you see them lick cigars with their tongues?" "Sure. I got two boxes, but they were strong." "Sounds interesting." "Only the people are queer, Unfriendly, you know, and beggars everywhere." "And did you see the small plant touch-me-not That when you touch it it withers all up Before your eyes?" "No, that we did not find." Go back; it is the essence of the land. So far I have illustrated only the one method. In most of my later poems, revision has taken a different slant. The longer versions here given were already revised poems, worked up from such sketches as have just been considered. What has happened from that point on is a kind of 9 �The College modern Revision by Excision-to strike out or dissolve as much of the poem as possible, until it becomes a kind of archipelago of mountains, remnant of a drowned continent of discourse. The trick is to keep the poem from sinking altogether, since there is a certain law of gravity by which, once it has gone below a critical mass, it tends to wilt without limit, as a bubble under surface tension withdraws into a pipe-bowl. The three poems here given, both in long and short versions, have been revised over five or more years and through innumerable states. It is to be hoped they have been arrested at the point where space was about to close up around them. MOONRISE (early form) Long ago I stood with a woma·n by the sea And saw the moon rise naked and alone. When we did not love in the hollows of the dunes Or swim in the moon-spilled troughs of the sea, I grieved for the wasted beauty of the world. From the sleeping form of another woman now I rise and climb the dunes, where another moon Breaks over an ocean shore, it washes clean. I am content in the ruins of nakedness. Listen, waking or sleeping, all I have loved: The heart of an old man wants nothing more When the dead moon spills its yellow seed In the heaving and sighing deep furrows of the sea. MOONRISE I rise and climb the dunes. A waning moon Breaks over an ocean shore it washes clean. I am content in the ruins of nakedness. Sleeping or waking, listen, all I have loved: The heart of an old man wants nothing more When the dead moon spills its yellow seed In the heaving and sighing deep furrows of the sea. INVESTITURE (preliminary) Tonight for the first time I climb the stair, Turn on the light, that sends four rays To the dark quarters of the bay and land. How many have kept lights burning in their towers? Milton's solitary Platonist, Image-seeking Celtic Yeats, Collins in the mountain hut Over twilight shires of mist. Think of Dante somewhere in banishment Climbing another's stairs by candlelight; Think of all whose height became a sign Of the brooding eminence established by the mind. 10 Rats with electrodes in their heads Jump on treadle for a charge. Action, passion, peace and war Shrink to pastime-company bad. Only rays that reach across dark shores Find the resonance of what endures, This lighted web of soul in the world Communion of Platonists in timeless towers. RESONANCE OF TOWERS Tonight, in the lighted tower, I have outwatched the Bear. I think of Dante in banishment, Climbing another's stairs by candlelight; Collins in the clouded hut Rockwalled Jeffers, embattled Yeats Rats with electrodes in their heads Jump on the treadle for a charge. The night web of soul in the world Flickers from tower to tower. CAVE OF FIRE (preliminary) When logs have burned in a good draft To a white-hot cave on the hearth, And flies roused from their winter torpor Buzz and stretch themselves, Take a sleepy one and hurl him in that glory. Tire black body becomes a stuff of burning; It shrinks and hisses; stirs, fringed with light; Then it is all glowing, featureless fire. The suspensions that made it a living creature, Stretching its neck, preening its head and wings, Change into incandescence, clear, all made clear. As if our world were swallowed by the sun; Or these small suns we make in emulation, Kindling against ourselves such instant caves, Had rendered into light love's diapered shades. A terrible thing-as the old book warnedTo fall into the hands of the living God. A FLY THROWN INTO THE FIRE The black body shrinks and hisses Fringed with light. What stretched the neck, what preened Head and wings, Changed to incandescence. All flesh grass In the hands of the living God. II �Interview with Alvin Fross and Peter Weiss by ROBERT L. SPAETH ROBERT SPAETH: Mr. Fross and Mr. Weiss, looking back at being students at St. John's from twenty-five years later, what would you say St. John's did for you? Mr. Weiss? PETER WEISS: It gave me a view of the world; gave me a view of what a sensible life might be like; gave me a view of a lot of things that came before that one ought to bear in mind when one thinks about what things are like today. SPAETH: Do you thing it did those things for you in a way that other colleges would not have or could not have? WEISS: It is awfully hard to say, not having been to any other college. But I have talked to a lot of people who have been to other colleges. I think it is clear that St. John's does some things for people that other colleges don't do. I think it is also fair to say that St. John's makes a lot of claims, a lot of exclusive claims for itself that are probably subject to criticism. I don't think St. John's is the only place where you can learn to think. I don't think St. John's is the only place where you can learn how to think morally. It is probably true that it is a little harder to go through four years at St. John's without at least having made an effort to learn how to think and to learn how to think morally, than at some other places. SPAETH: Mr. Fross, what do you think of this? ALVIN FROSS: I think that in some ways, talking to our generation, you are talking to a generation that had a rather peculiar and unusual St. John's experience. When we went to college we started out with a group of about 200 people who were destined to be there as a group for Alvin Fross, '46 and Peter Weiss, '46 are lawyers specializing in trademark law. They were students on the Annapolis campus both before and after World War II. This interview was conducted in their offices in New York City. Because of the press of business, neither could find time to review this transcript. Thus, the alumni portrayed here may or may not be .the real Fross and Weiss. only six months or so. Shortly after we got there the great exodus began, and large numbers were called up for the Army and Navy Reserve, and we became a kind of extended family for those people. Many of them were not too far away from the College. We shrank at one point, I think, to a community of only 50 people in residence, with people swarming in on week-ends. The program was not really a reading and studying prograrn but in a way it was a constant looking-out into a blinding light and looking back. Your eyes just kept going back and forth. There were people who were out there who were trying to adjust to a radically different world and radically different situation, and we were trying to adjust to either. So the books were being read in the light of a very unstable world to which we were exposed on every single week-end of that early period. I think that in some ways some of the books we read had special meaning for us because of that. I think that maybe the books about war, particularly Homer, Virgil, had perhaps more meaning for us than they might have for other people. We were constantly trying to think about what it meant to go off to war and to be a soldier or sailor. That is one element of our special experience. Also, I would say that ours was probably much more of a heterogenous experience. The reason I say this is because in some way the thing that stands out most clearly to me after all those years was not the books by themselves but the books as a medium for getting to know a small group of people extremely well. That is, they provided for people of very diverse backgrounds, very diverse emotional needs, a medium for getting to know one another, for dialogue. That is, it opened up new worlds. I came from a very small community. A large town, but a small community in that town and at St. John's I met people whom I did not dream existed. If I had met those people in a large university I probably would never have gotten to know them that well, but at St. John's you just had to. When you shrank down to 50 you got to know every one of those people, even those whom you really couldn't really sympathize with, you got to know them awfully well. As to what I feel about the program, taken out of context, I think the program taken out of context is pure nonsense. That is, I think that to talk about it in terms of the ideology of the ll �The College first catalog is to spin a myth. A very useful myth because it proposes a hypothesis: if we take this program and we work with a community of a certain size, something, we hope, will happen. And to relate it back to a Golden Age, which is some of the rhetoric of the first catalog, is also to be a living in a classical kind of mythology. It has a certain wonder. We rather liked that myth. We rather enjoyed it. I don't think any of us ever fully believed it. SPAETH: Mr. Fross, you said a number of interesting things; I'd like to explore some of them. You mentioned thinking about certain books such as the Iliad in a particular way because the war was on. Mr. Weiss, you used the phrase "thinking morally" as something that you learned at St. John's. Is there something about those books or the program that encouraged more of a concern with morality than with intellectual development? Perhaps this has something to do with the war or perhaps it is more general. WEISS: It also has something to do with what AI just said about the smallness of the community. I think it is interesting that he said that he saw the books as a medium of getting to know a small group of people very well, because I suspect that is at least partly a matter of personal disposition; some people would find themselves interested in relating to the people around them through almost any medium that happened to be available. The books arc a very good one for that. Other people might be pushed more in the direction of intellectual exploration by whatever medium happened to be available to them. Nobody there at that time or presumably today is just reading the books, but they are working through the books. They are grappling with them; they are fighting them; they are repelled by them and attracted to them. I think we all shared the experience that some of the best contact we had with the books, some of the best insights that were produced by the books, were the result of a total living and learning experience. You asked about what it was about the books which made it easier or mandatory, if you like, to come up with some moral distillation of all this stuff that passed in and out of our range during our four years there. I guess the thing about that is that after a while, no matter what your background, the notion that the people who wrote the books, or even the people who thought up the experiments, had something serious to say about what kind of place the world was. That notion gets to you and it becomes part of your habit of dealing with the world around you. Sometimes that means that people get awfully pretentious in their thinking, and everything that happens is either a playing through of some great paradigm that you have read about in one book or another, or it becomes the occasion for some blinding flash of insight, which upon reflection the next day or maybe a decade later turns out to be only trivial. I think I would rather go to a place where you are constantly prodded into thinking what it all means than to a place where the habit of thought is that it all means nothing or where the habit of thought is that it all means whatever 12 this expert says. SPAETH: When you say that you were induced to get into the habit of taking life seriously and seeing these moral questions as serious, do you also mean to say that there was no particular moral direction that you were urged in? WEISS: Oh yes, I think that is borne out by the many different moral directions in which people go after they leave the place. It would be awfully difficult to say that there is a consistent moral and political philosophy that you are bound to emerge with from St. John's if you have done your work correctly. As a matter of fact, in retrospect it is a little disappointing sometimes that people don't come up with a more consistent moral philosophy, particularly if you happen to believe as I guess I do, that there are some moral philosophies that are more consistent and more valuable than others. That is both a good thing and a bad thing about St. John's. I think there is a kind of looseness, a kind of open-endedness about values which is not good for people who, for one reason or another, don't either already come to the College with a well-developed sense of values or don't manage to work one out for themselves while they are there. I think people like that can go through the program for four years.being titillated by the notion of, say, a comprehensive view of life and can then go on to lead the most ordinary life after they have stopped being exposed to it and after they have stopped being exposed to the constant challenge. I often feel that that is happening to me. FROSS: I think that the kind of sojourn which people experienced had to do, of course, with where they were starting so that if a person came from a small town on the Eastern Shore or came from an industrial town in New Jersey with its special provincial character, as I did, to suddenly find themselves in a community where people were in the process of conversion to one thing or another was quite a shock. You always assumed that the next step was a little step, whatever step it was to be. It was certainly not going to be to throw over the traces of your entire past life. Nevertheless, what almost all of us saw, even in the first month at St. John's, is that people are really susceptible to very major revolutionary personal change. I think that for most of us that was both a threat and a promise. I think that is one of the elements in the answer to your question as to why did people embark on moral dialogue. In a sense they knew that they were in an environment where they were potentially changeable and changeable radically and had to think about what kind of people they might want to be if that was really possible. Then the fact that some of the changes were changes of a religious nature necessarily raised moral issues. What does it mean to be suddenly taken by an idea sufficiently to abandon your family and your history and your friends? At least one of our friends from my home town left the world that he knew which was a Jewish world and became, for a period of time, a Trappist monk. A very major change �July 1973 indeed. He went through several changes along the way before that hut that was a very major change. That is another element but I suppose that one of the largest elements to be kept in mind when you think about the moral nature of the dialogue is the people who were the source of leadership to us. They were people who had been engaged for a long, long time in a moral dialogue. And an additional important factor was that there really was a limiting methodology in approaching most of the books. That is, it was considered improper to look at the books from the point of view of critical histories. You were not supposed to go and find out what others had thought about the books and therefore you were not likely to come up with a theory which related to what the author really meant to say. The methodology required you to decide what the author said to you and once you do that, what he said to you, you have limited the kinds of things that you are likely to be able to focus on. We read those books for their message. When you speak about message in that way the message is very likely to be a moral one. SPAETH: Did yonr approach mean that various members of the seminar would find that the books were saying different things to them? Would that imply a difficulty of communication? FROSS: No, because although you had to search yourself for what they said to you, what you experienced you had to justify by the text. That is, you couldn't say, "I read this book and it inspired me to think about a sunset." You had to say, "I read this book and this is what it says literally and this is what it means to me because it says that." Somebody said, "But is doesn't really say that, I mean if you look back on it you will see you missed that other phrase." Then you had to argue about that. In other words, the books provided a text which had to be focused on and they provided a medium through which you shared your experiences and your reactions to the material. I would say on the whole that it was a rather disciplined dialogue, especially since most of us had rather disciplined leaders. WEISS: Yes, but of course, that raises the whole question of whether the methodology might not be too limiting. SPAETH: Limiting also means confining. Did you find it that way? WEISS: I didn't find it that way at the time but I remember Alec Meikeljohn used to come by periodically and sit in on seminars and get a big kick out of them. Outside the seminar he used to be rather critical of what you might call the exclusively intellectual approach to the books and to the entire program and Meikeljohn used to remind people that the social scientists who were held in such low regard at St. John's, at least at the time that I was there, had a few relevant things to say about the very same things that the book had relevant things to say about. They were corning from a different place bnt that didn't mean that their findings or insights ought to be disre- garded. In retrospect that seems to me to be a valid criticism. We were rather fanatical, all of us at the time, about defending the purity of the approach. In retrospect it seems to me to have been a somewhat misguided fanaticism. SPAETH: Mr. Fross said earlier something that went farther than purity. He referred to the "ideology" of the original catalog and that the program was built on a myth. WEISS: That is a more drastic way to put it but I would go along with it. There are really two aspects to that. One is the purity of the intellectual approach and the other is the purity of the lifestyle. While our lifestyle wasn't any more pure than any other college lifestyle in terms of what we did after hours, there was a kind of pnrity of lifestyle about involvement in the community which I gather still survives to this day. I mean the notion that you really have to take these four years out of your life and think, and then you will be able to do all kinds of things for the rest of yonr life, but during those four years you can't get distracted. You can't get distracted by working on a job, you can't get distracted by getting involved in politics, you can't get distracted by what is referred to as extra-cnrricular activities. That is true only to the extent that the distractions may preempt the real purpose of )'Our four year stay at college. To that extent that is a valid goal. To the extent that it places you in a sterile environment from the point of view of your total activity while you are there, it is probably not a good idea. I would say it is probably not a good idea under any circumstances to create intellectual experiences. Some of the books were not written out of isolated intellectual experiences. Some of the books were written by people who were involved in the most intense way with everything around them. I don't think Machiavelli could have written The Prince if he hadn't gotten his hands pretty dirty with the business of Renaissance politics. I think it is important not to interrupt the business of living for a four year period while you go about the business of discovering "truth" in an abstract way. FROSS: In our period, to try to flesh out what Peter is saying, I can recall only two kinds of rather strong contact with the so-called outside world. One of them was a formal one, a Sunday night meeting which was arranged to take advantage of the existence in 'Vashington, D. C. of people who were very involved in the war and in government. They came down and talked to us about current affairs. Usually they were very cerebral and extremely able people. We would question them in the traditional St. John's style, but it was very non-activist kind of thing. The second thing that did involve some activity but was so minor as to kind of paint us into our proper picture, as of those days, was that there was a Great Books Seminar in the Negro community in Annapolis. There was a relationship between some of the members of the faculty and the black community which was in these days quite an extraordinary thing because it was about the only tie that l3 �The College existed between whites and blacks in Annapolis. SPAETH: Has it been true for you gentlemen that what you learned as relatively inexperienced people had a significant impact as the years passed and you gamed that experience? In other words, did St. John's have a continuing influence in the last 25 years? WEISS: I suppose it did in terms of style. I don't think it did in terms of content. It has had a continuing effect in terms of style and by that I mean that in the four years at St. John's, interrupted as they were by three years at war, I developed a kind of view of the interconnectedness of things. This is something that I insist on not giving up. I insist, even though in our profession AI and I arc about as specialized as you can get. .We insist on two things. One is to go about our specialized professional work in a very generalized way, that is, by bringing to it as much knowledge and experience from other disciplines and other branches of the law as we can muster. And beyond this office I, for myself, I insist on not taking isolated events and dealing with them as isolated events because that is death to the understanding. I would like to think that has to do with the habit of thought that I might have acquired in Annapolis. It becomes more and more difficult to make sense out of the whole. I mean the kind of cosmic structures that you can erect in your minds sitting around a seminar table just don't seem to stand up too well when you start sending probes or tamping at the supports. But you keep trying. You keep trying to relate what has happened in Viet Nam to what is happening in the theatre and what is happening in the theatre to what is happening with the distribution of wealth of the world and you keep being obsessed by the need to know more so that you can flesh out the tentative structure that you have in your head. I am not saying that St. John's is the only place that can give you that but I think it may be a little easier to get there. FROSS: I think that Peter may be saying that to some extent we have learned to live in a world in which we sometimes think we have grasped some truths but where the whole picture continuously eludes us, but nevertheless we keep on looking. That is one of the things that happened in the four years, that the big prize of the total picture always eluded us and as far as we could tell it always eluded everyone else. You can either become a cynic and say it's not worth bothering about, or you can learn to live with that and just keep on going. Peter, for example is a very much more patient person, although he is not an outstandingly patient one, than he would be but for his having been at St. John's. I think that he puts up with more nonsense than he would otherwise put up with. WEISS: Now you are making too big a claim for the College. FROSS: I will go back to what I said earlier; we start out with certain kind of character propensities. Peter said before that I am interested in people. He is obviously, 14 from what you know about his career, interested in ideas. He is very drawn to trying to work up an ideological construct, which he tries to test out and see how It works out, and obviously both of us have our disappointments. People disappoint me; ideas sometimes disappoint him, but I think we have developed a certain amount of patience as a result of our experiences. Am I right about that? WEISS: Yes, you have got to be right about that to the extent that unless you slept through four years of seminars you can't take somebody's proposition that is handed to you and say, "Yes, that is it" without saying, "Wait a minute, what about this part? what about that part? and does it square with so and so and such and such?" FROSS: And really, if it is basically wrong, is it 100% garbage? That is another thing that one learns, that somehow or other, if it is an idea that comes from a person who is a thoughtful person, it may be wrong but it rarely is totally irrelevant. Usually there is something in it that needs to be found and thought about. WEISS: Again, I don't know how much credit the College deserves for that but I have, going back to those days, a kind of sentimental attachment to the truth and like people telling me that something happened in _a certain way when I suspect that it didn't, even though It may fit more conveniently to the overall scheme of things to believe that it happened the way they said it did. · SPAETH: You, very much like the faculty and students, now refer generally to "the College" as having done this or that or having influenced you in a certain way. Do you usually think of it that way, or do you distinguish certain books, or certain parts of the program-or the Tutors, or certain Tutors? WEISS: I can't say that some books taught me more than other books. Obviously they did because some books I can't even remember, but the thing that remains is the habit of dealing with the printed words as it communicates somebody's message. That is what remains from the entire experience of four years of fighting books. In discussions about the war with young lawyers I keep findmg myself somewhat pompously coming back to The_ Republic as the one book that really teJJs you what law IS, as opposed to aJJ the theories you get from books of jurisprudence-or at least it is the book that tells you how law grows out of the life of the people. I could give yo~ other examples like that but it is not important. What IS important is the habit of thought and the habit of not standing still. I wonder what it would be like to start afresh now, if you didn't already believe that, whether you reach it or not, there is a way to put aJJ the pieces together. If you didn't already believe that, what would happen if you just started at St. John's today, say, knowing what AI and I know about what an impossible thing it is to grasp it all. What would it be like to say-Okay, now we know about the fact that technology means that we are going to die faster than we would if we had not tech- �July 1973 nology; international law means that people can get up at the UN and justify almost and kind of genocide or other atrocity in terms of some branch of international law, that the world's most respected statesmen can get up and lie like people on their third bottle of booze. What would it mean to live in that kind of would and have that kind of experience every time you pick up the newspapers and then say, "Yes, but somehow it must all fit together and I am going to keep looking for the grand pattern." FROSS: In a way you are asking how we would, if we went back today, read Plato. WEISS: Yes, I am asking that. SPAETH: I think that is a very interesting point, because it is often a criticism made of young people reading those books, that they are reading books written by older men, who in fact had a life somewhat like you describe. That is, the authors saw the world as being rather rougher than an 18 year old has seen it. Hobbes, for example, wrote in the context of a quite violent society. I don't know whether that is an argument in favor of reading these books at age 50 rather than 18, or against it. WEISS: It is probably an argument in favor of re-reading them periodically. FROSS: I think if I was right in what I said earlier, Peter, what it comes to is that reading Plato at age 18 forever conditioned us because even though you made this little speech, you go right on as if it were possible. WEISS:, Yes, that is true. For instance at the Center for Constitutional Rights where I do some of what lawyers call pro bona publico where civil rights are constitutionalized, I sign my letters "Justice". I don't think I would be doing it unless I believed there was such a thing. I work with a lot of radical lawyers. I consider myself a radical lawyer, and they talk about justice but I am not quite sure what they mean. In fact, it really doesn't make much difference. Again, coming from different places, we know when somebody is being exploited and we know when somebody is being worked over and we know when the process of the law is being abused, and we probably fight it in very similar ways. I have somewhere in the back of my mind a kind of grey omnipresence that says there is something called justice. FROSS: And I think that you continue to be prayerful that the courts will produce it. You know that they often do not, but you are not eager to see the courts destroyed which I think some radical lawyers would be willing to have happen. WEISS: We can't afford to have the courts destroyed just now. When we have a just society we won't need the courts, but that is something else. SPAETH: Did you come to current civil rights problems from an. abstract notion of justice rather than some attachment to the Constitution? WEISS: I come to it from a sense of deep outrage at what people are doing to people but, you see, my outrage is compounded and heightened by the fact that they are doing these things in the name of justice, Constitution, democracy. Yes, I am doubly outraged when Spiro Agnew speaks of democracy because it does have a meaning to me. I think of it as a beautiful construct in the abstract from those days when I was reading Plato, and the mere fact that it doesn't work today does not mean that I can't still in an intellectual way be in love with it and fight all the harder to sec if we can get a little closer to its realization. What I am saying is that the fact that the world is becoming messier and messier, that you find it harder and harder to get a handle on it, doesn't mean that you get away from some notion of what justice means other than what Nixon says, or what some of my friends on the left are saying. Maybe there were times when what my friends on the left are saying is closer to what I thought it was when I read Plato. In some way that is coincidental because some of my friends on the left don't have any firmer foundation for what they are saying is the right kind of society than Nixon or Agnew do. SPAETH: Mr. Fross, do you want to comment on that? FROSS. Yes, I would. I think that while an individual's concept of what is justice probably can and must change throughout his life as he is reflective about what he has seen and read and what he is experiencing, that a life without a meaningful concept of justice in it which is always evolving is an impoverished one. I think that both of us are prepared to risk being wrong about what justice is from time to time, but we are certainly not willing to give up trying to find out what it is and trying to do something about it. In Peter's case it is in terms of the kind of work that he does outside his office, and in mine, since I don't have his energy or his willpower, it is in trying to control my immediate environment. WEISS: And somebody has to keep the office going. FROSS: I don't think it is a matter of difference in just plain emotional and physical energy. I limit myself to my immediate environment and try very hard in that environment to live out what is my belief about justice. I certainly am willing to suffer distress because of my wrongness about it from time to time because I have been wrong. I think that, to some extent, what you are hearing about us is temperamental and that in a way the St. John's experience has been relevant in that it has given us the strength to do the things that we are temperamentally suited to do. \"'EISS: If you want to put it in plain ordinary English, there is an abiding distrust of pragmatism which I carry through life with me and which I picked up at St. John's. By that I don't mean that I am not willing to try ten different approaches to a solution if the first nine don't work, but I mean that I have no patience with the notion 15 �The College that things are good if they work and had if they don't work. SPAETH: I have heard the criticism from an alumnus from your era that students now-a-days are less emotional than you were. He said that seminars used to be much more of a laying out of your own personal behefs and questions on the tables, a kind of unburdening of yourselves with respect to the argument in question. Whereas he observed at the College in recent years a more academic concern with what is in the books and whether it is right. WEISS: If he was from our generation then maybe AI gave you the answer when he talked about the special quality of our generation in terms of the war period. SPAETH: I would like to use this opportunity to go back to that. I am interested in the fact, Mr. Fross, that you said that the scale of the College in those days was especially important to you as it related to the reading of the books. It is often said at St. John's now that a small college is important (although we have grown to 370 students) and it is also repeatedly said that the particular program is important. But I rarely hear the two related to one another as you have. I think you might say more about that. FROSS: I think that the size of the community forced a kind of seriousness about one another. We were not quick to dismisS an idea of someone with whom we were going to live on a regular basis. We might not like his vision of the world but we really did feel that we had to come to grips in some way with what his vision was, and sometimes the vision, especially in the period when I returned from the war, was one that was very difficult to come to grips with because it was the vision of a 16 year old kid who really should not have been in the College at all. Nevertheless the community was small and there was some feeling of responsibility. I think that that feeling of responsibility toward one another was an element of growth and a tension that was very valuable. I said also that I thought that we were lucky in that the group changed several times over the period of our years because of the war moving populations in and out, so that while we were always very small the population itself was a changing one. Now at this time in history I am glad that the College is not 200, I am glad that it is nearer 370 or so because I think that if the College were as small as we were and the population stayed the same for four years that it would be very difficult to have enough freshness in the group. I would hope also that if the College does stay as small as this, and I think it should, that there would be a fair amount of interchange between New Mexico and Annapolis so that there would be some freshening of the atmosphere from time to time. Do you have any reaction to all this, Peter? WEISS: Yes, I agree. I have a discussion sometimes with my wife and I guess I will increasingly as our kids get to be of college age. She went to the University of Wiscon- I6 sin, which is a huge place, and was very happy there because there were so many people and so much to do, so much activity, so much ferment, intellectual, political, social. She finds it hard to conceive of that level, that intensity of activity taking place in an institution as small as St. John's. And there probably is, as AI said, a minimum size that is required for the kind of community that St. John's tries to be. Obviously you can have a community of two people or a community of 10 people or of 100 but not in a college situation. SPAETH: What exactly is so important in the smallness? Is it how well you get to know your fellow students? FROSS: I don't think so. I think that it has to do with the degree of responsibility which you feel for his condition, particularly if you are in a community that is in ferment, and ours always was. I can't recall any time when there wasn't some element of ferment in it, personal ferment. We talked about the early years and the conversions in that period. For those who had returned from the war, there were the problems of readjustment, of trying to make sense out of their experiences. There were very many different experiences involved. I think that we all, regardless of whether we were interested in people or interested in ideas, or both, simply tried to deal with one another in a very responsible fashion. WEISS: At a large university you can get lost if yon want to get lost. At a place as small as St. John's you really can't get lost, you can't hide. Whether you want to have relationships with people or not they are going to be forced on you. FROSS: I think it is also very wholesome not to be able to bite off people who are not part of your past experience and just say they are irrelevant. Yon just couldn't do that in that small community. SPAETH: That is, you were forced to take all kinds that happened to be there. FROSS: Right, they were all part of the dialogue in one way or another even if they weren't talking. SPAETH: I came from Catholic schools and we were always told that if we went to large universities we should find the Newman club and then we could always associate with Catholics. I never went to a university like that but it would have been a tremendous waste I am sure. At St. John's I think there are no clubs at all of the sort that people use to go to, to be with like-minded people. FROSS: Now hack in our day, Mr. Kaplan ran a Bible class in which he did try to give, as I understand it, some understanding of the Jewish religious tradition but that class was always attended by a substantial number of nonJews. SPAETH: He is still giving that class. FROSS: Is he? How marvelous! 11 �COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS Annapolis 1973 by FORD K. BROWN Ladies and Gentlemen of the Freshman Class-of 1969, naturallyFellow intellectuals, on the democratic premise, necessary to you as to us, that the term "intellectual" implies a steadfast care for things of the intellect beyond just those of the intelligible and in so many areas all-too-intelligible worldBetween 1969 and these present moments a long four years may have brought about changes in you perhaps greater than you have realized. A simple example: It would have been all right for me to address you as the Freshman ·Class back then. Nowadays everybody knows that as a matter of decency, anti-racism, justice, liberation and so on you would have to be called the Freshman and Freshwoman Class, which for propriety, justice, decency, liberation and remnants of old-time chivalry would have to become the Freshwoman and Freshman Class, which of course in no time-so great our passion for brevity-becomes just the Freshwoman Class. I feel that the trivial attempt noticeable here, in a kindly way, to right so great the ancient wrong should be received with some calmness and sobriety. Back a century ago Thomas Henry Huxley told us, "The rules of the game are what we call the laws of nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us." That player is hidden from even the triumphant Freshwomen, and he has been playing (she has been playing?) much the same way for centuries. No men, perhaps even few gentlemen, have for- got some sensational feminine characters of the past: that little Eve for one, and then Clytemnestra and Medea and all those Roman and Eastern empresses, and Lizzie Borden and Ma Barker, and the no doubt innocent char· acter who gave us Howard Cosell, and a character only now really brought to light, the Abominable Snow Woman. We know only that her name is Yeta. I think it was a couple of years before you came that I happened to listen with an earlier entering class to one of our own lecturers who, out of the goodness of his heart -which you would expect from all of us-was trying to help them learn a mistakenly simple-appearing task, how to read those of our most difficult books, namely those that are deceptively simple. I have got permission to 17 �The College plagiarize a few of this speaker's remarks. Freshmen, he seemed to believe, on the word (somewhere) of Aristotle, are by their nature young, innocent, ingenuous and naive, consequently unsophisticated, idealistic and optimistic, what is called "generous to a fault"-that is, knowing no duplicity, trickery or even irony, suspecting none-hence quite unexperienced in the ways of this novel field of their intellectual world, given therefore to a feeble acceptance or a disabling renitency and little competent, even among the now Freshwomen themselves, to cope with things attainable only by people who are alert, wary, forewarned and forearmed and constantly suspicious, in a nice intel- lectual way, of anything they read. Discounting now, suspiciously, a good part of that oracular pronouncement about Aristotle's freshmen, it's clear that your just being here speaks of a considerable, in felicitous cases an extraordinary, intellectual and spiritual growth, in some cases (if this class at all resembles others) almost as if an act of Nature's player, perhaps even one of those dispensations that leave beholders only to exclaim mirabile dictul (I speak in Latin to give no offense) ... and still, even then, with members more than competent to join with the generality in hosannas along the lines of an old familiar formula, "What Hath Freshwoman Wrought!", and continuing on devoted solely to the unflinching pursuit of idle curiosity ... which I perhaps should explain is the curiosity that seeks knowledge for its own sake. (I interrupt myself here to add about that paragraph a brand new bulletin fresh from after the President's Dinner, to the effect that it was a good, civilized show even after the generous booster shots out in left field.) I add here, as I certainly ought to do, a trivial incident but to be sure one that could possibly suit that unknown player "on the other side," in a conversation I had once with one of our elder non-statesmen teachers a few years ago. "Nobody," one of us said, "with such beautiful violet eyes will ever get a failing mark from me." We agreed, as I remember. Of course I was joking, and I think Mr. Kaplan was. n It's likely that the nature of this College had something to do with your success, player of Nature or no player, and, to help explain that, I'm going to take you back some centuries, to medieval times, and to France, and particularly to a small town some fifty miles south of Paris where the townspeople had decided to build themselves a new church. There are extraordinary things about that clmrch-"cette belle egJise," the preacher there used to say in modern times, with a monstrosity of modestyand there are two or three things in particular of special interest to you and to all this College. The first is that the church was built by scholars; the second is the peculiar nature of the builders; and the third we might call "the Epigone Connection." The church is Our Lady of Chartres, the house of the Virgin Mary, the Queen of the cathedral; and it was built back there, from 1194 to 1220, with a care of pre- 18 CISIOn, a meticulous certainty of workmanship, and as absolute and inspectorate sureness of measure and proportion on the part of the builders as there was in the imagination of the architects; it had to be that way in this noblest of all the churches of the Queen, for in it everything was for her alone. There has never been even a funerary monument in this cathedral and nobody has ever been buried in it, "Lest there should be a profanation or contamination of her purity." No other church or insti- tution possesses the Veil of the Virgin, given in 876 by Charles the Bald, or the ancient relic known as the Shift, or Tunic, of the Virgin. The great stained window of the Bakers' Guild has a little basket of rolls at the bottom, at the bottom of the Shoemakers' Guild there is a little shoemaker at work, but it is a notable signature of the times and the place that of all the sculptured pieces on and in the cathedral, everywhere, over three thousand of them, with hundreds of figures of the Old and New Testaments, and long~ arrays of bishops, saints and martyrs, not one bears a sculptor's signature, and the name of only one man is known who could reasonably be assumed to have worked there; he signed his name and his townChartres-in another cathedral. Even the name of the greatest of the builders, called the Master of Chartres, is not known. The sculptures, the figures of the saints and others in the unequalled stained glass-there are 3,889 of them-and every magnificent achievement or new discovery of this Gothic period-the flying buttresses that permitted the great size and number of the windows, the masterly placing of the glass to let light in-all was a splendid offering to the Queen of the Cathedral in which everything was for her. I'm going to cap this little piece about Notre Dame de Chartres by citing one sentence from a modern writer, author of a book called The Gothic Cathedral, published in the Bollingen Series established by our alumnus Paul Mellon. This is an extraordinary sentence, eloquent, oracular and covering a truly large field; but I think he is probably right. In our own time, no work of art, religious or otherwise, has an importance that is even remotely comparable to that which compelled an entire generation to pour its energies and resources into the construction of the cosmos of stone that, between 1194 and 1220, rose gradually and breathtakingly above the town of Chartres. iii In the West Facade or Portail Royale of the Cathedral, with some of the most beautiful statuary in the world, beneath the large figure of the Virgin is a little group of characters that I believe you will like. I quote about them from the Chartraine Chamber of Commerce, or Syndicate of Initiative, Guide if you prefer. "The sciences are symbolized by figures of women and under each of them the man who has most honored the science in question." �July 1973 Science ... in a cathedral devoted to the Virgin Mary? Quite so, and the men who stood for the sciences are mostly well known to you. It just happens that there are seven of them. The figures are: Dialectic and Aristotle Rhetoric and Cicero Geometry and Euclid Arithmetic and Boethius Astronomy and Ptolemy Grammar and Priscian (or Donatus; these little figures are not named and there is some argument about them) Music and Pythagoras These seven sciences furthermore are placed just next to the throne of the Virgin, their position there, we are told by Henry Adams, testifying to her intellectual superiority, indicating that she had a perfect mastery of what we still call the seven Liberal Arts. At this time it is clear that the modern canonical division of the seven Liberal Arts appears little useful as the four sciences known as the quadrivium become in every way all in all. Here a difference in science and art fades as this whole undertaking rests upon a single brief basic concept: Architecture is geometry. To save time I am obliged to call on Professor Von Simson again: I. The beauty of the edifice consists of the crystalline clarity of the structural anatomy. 2. The perfection of this great architectural system is the perfection of the proportions, proportions that the master developed not according to his personal intuition but by exact geometrical calculations. 3. And it is that certainty of procedure that enables one to speak (I quote again) of "the aesthetic and structural relevance of proportion." Again, architecture is geometry. I turn from this with two laconic sentences ... feeling that they don't need to be anything else: I. Nobody, no group, no institution, no country has ever since the 13th century built a more beautiful building. 2. The Cathedral School of Chartres, as a school, taught nothing but the seven Hsciences." believed the word "peculiar" meant peculiar, if not actually mad. We had an odd indication of that some years ago when a very new member of the College Board pointed out to them, in a rather eloquent way, that the cause of our getting too few students was that we were "rowing against the tide." All other undergraduate liberal arts colleges-and universities-it is true had a few required courses but offered, in many disciplines, some of them hardly believable, the (to our mind) pedagogical horror called the Elective System. I don't remember how it was gently explained to this new member that we were actually bending every effort and sinew to an exactly opposite course. Since then two things seem obvious; first that since those early days we have made a very considerable progress, and second that we still are a peculiar people and we ought to keep in mind that there are various shades of meaning in "peculiar," one of them being "peculiar,-all too peculiar." I present a couple of drastic examples out of the Middle Ages. The first is a Saint Jean, called the Taciturn, who (I quote) "never took a bath, that he might not shock his modest eyes," and the second a rather likely colleague San Luis de Gonzagua, who (I quote) "had such a terror of women that he dared not look at his mother for fear of evil thoughts." I must say that those saintly gentlemen forcibly reminded me of our own Plotinus, not a saint I believe but a mere philosopher, who hated his body, we're told by his official biographer, so greatly that he would never mention the day of his birth or the names of his father and mother. I confess to a feeling of some satisfaction when I found out from an old MS. that Plotinus's body eventually came to hate him. That is what is known nowadays at least in western movies as a Mexican standoff, the signature line for it being, "He don't hate me no mor'n I hate him." It appears in the adult westerns too ... the ones called adult because they use the older horses. It seems doubtful that we have any real right to claim that the guarantee of the Almighty (Deut. 14.2) to his peculiar people has descended on us, though occasionally you do hear such talk that you might for an instant think so. But a hosanna is a loud cry of joy and worship, and it is much more becoming when it is not addressed to ourselves. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Class of 1973- iv Far back in the early Old Testament days some of the Jewish nation began to call themselves " a peculiar people." This was very sensible of them, as they had received a direct mandate, Deuteronomy 14.2, "You are a peculiar people." Of course that meant simply, You are different from other people-I have declared you my people and all other people I have not and I'm not going to. When St. John's College in 1937 began its pure liberal arts program and its wholly required course of study, there Was no lack of people, including educators, who I have overstepped my time alotted, and I would like to leave you one kind of circumstance that seems to have some comforting aspects. Forty or fifty years ago the archeologists found what they believed might be the oldest piece of writing in the world. It was a fragment of a letter from an Egyptian father to his son at school; and this oldest piece of writing said, "The world is going to the dogs." Hail and farewell ... Have a good life ... We celebrate Homecomings in October. II 19 �PROFILE: LOUIS L. SNYDER, '28 For Louis L. Snyder, author of more than 40 books and a professor of history for 40 years, almost all of his intellectual life finds its roots in his years as a student at St. John's. Both his fellow students of the class of 1928 and the faculty were "first-cl?ss/' remembers Dr. Snyder today. Their influence has not diminished with the passage of the intervening years. '~My the smartest boys we ever had/' according to a pal who knew him well. But to enter St. John's meant digging up the $150 annual tuition, which neither Lou nor his parents could afford. A scholarship was offered by a interest in history was aroused by a great teacher, Clarence Stryker, and my interest in writing by two additional magnificent teachers, Ford Brown and Thomas Brockway," Snyder said recently. Furthermore, his specific interest in modern German history was also derived from a St. John's professor, Richard Kuehnemund, who arranged 'l fellowship for Snyder in 1928 to the University of Frankfurt am Main. It is fair to say that Louis Snyder, in return for what St. John's did for him, has spread the name of his alma mater more widely than any other person. Because he is general editor of Anvil Books, a Van Nostrand paperback history series, the name of St. John's College appears as part of his biography on the back cover of each tributions in prose instead of poetry." This away In from 20 advice, Snyder says, turned him from poetry forever. 1924, Lou Snyder was graduated Annapolis High School, "one of non-academic activities ranged from observing the rising horror of Adolf Hitler to arranging engagements for the St. John's Collegians, a jazz band from back in Annapolis in which Snyder had played alto saxophone. Upon returning to the United States he found no jobs, for the Depression had hit during his stay abroad. So he returned to studying, at Columbia University, where he met the noted historian Carleton J. H. Hayes. Professor Hayes gave to Louis his second great scholarly interest, the study of uationalism. Hitler and the menace he represented remai-ned in Snyder's mind, so in the summer of 1931 he wrote a book prophesying Hitler's rise to power. This book, Hitlerism: the Iron Fist in Germany, was published under the pseudonym "Nordicns" -but not without a prior dismissal by Walter Lippmann, who observed, "Youth is inclined to exaggeration." Snyder today considers it "a bad book-full of prophecies." He smiles, however7 and admits of the two million copies in circulation. It was in Frankfurt that Snyder's scholarly career first took shape in book form, with a doctoral dissertation on Bismarck's personal and political relations with Americans. But his writing career had begun at the age of ten, when he submitted a poem to the editor of his home-town newspaper, the Annapolis Evening Capital. The editor printed the poem and wrote: "We are publishing this poem at the request of the author. We do hope, however, that in the future he will make such con- Snyder's studies in Germany from 1928 to 19 31 fixed his in teres! in German history. While in Frankfurt, his Louis L. Snyder local bank, and four great years commenced for the future historian. While he was a student, he wrote for The Collegian, edited the "Rat-Tat" (the college annual), and was a stringer for the Baltimore Sun. He studied history, English, and the German language, and was graduated at the top of his class. At the 1928 commencement, he was awarded a $15 prize for writing the best essay on the subject of World Peace and was off to Weimar Germany at age 21. that most of the prophecies were proved correct by events. The year 1933 brought Snyder a teaching position in the history department of the City College of New York. 111at appointment has lasted until now. His teaching has been the foundation for all of his subsequent writing efforts. His special fields have been modern Cermany7 nationalism, the en- lightenment, intellectual history, and the two world wars. "[ consciously write on one of three levels," Snyder says. "All three give me special pleasure, and I do not try to mix them." The levels are: scholarly, exemplified by The Meaning of Nationalism; general, such as The Bloodand-Iron Chancellor; and children's books, such as The First Book of �July 1973 World War I. Some of the children's books have been written in collaboration with his wife, Ida Mae Brown of Baltimore, herself a Phi Beta Kappa from Columbia. Of all his books, which is the best? Snyder answers this question in two ways: "I am most proud of The Meaning of Nationalism, but my most successful book has been The War: A Concise History, 1939-1945." The latter has been translated into a dozen languages. At age 66, Louis Snyder is not slowing down. One of his largest projects has come off the Rutgers University Press in May of this year. This is The Dreyfus Case: A Documentary History -448 pages of documents and commentary, with 92 photographs. Soon to be published is A Comparative History of Nationalism. It is no surprise to hear Dr. Snyder say that "writing is a compulsion" a-nd "there is no end to it." He and his wife, who doubles as his editor and "unofficial collaborator" on all his books, are spending this summer in London where, at the British Museum, he is working on "a massive project" on the Tbird Reich for McGraw-Hill. Snyder spent the past academic year's sabbatical from CCNY working on this book at his home in Princeton, N.J., and at the Princeton University Library. He left for London with 2000 pages of manuscript in first draft and with hopes of completing the work in 1974. Louis Snyder preceded the New Program at St. John's by a decade, but he has continued to pay close attention to the College. In I 969 he received the Alumni Award of Merit. His judge- ment today on the New Program is characteristically direct: "plainly and simply magnificent." He says this time he agrees with Walter Lippmann, that the program has made St. John's the Athens of America. Snyder, as one would expect of a professional historian 1 finds one "obstacle" to the program. "This program is emphatically not for every student," he says. "It is for the student who has a good basic preparatory school education. It is useless to involve the student with the concept of the Platonic Idea or Kant's categorical imperative unless he has some basic training in the ways of civilization." It would involve only a slight amount of editorial license for this writer to suggest that many of the ways of civilization can be discovered in the books of Louis L. Snyder himself. THE PUBLICATIONS OF LOUIS L. SNYDER 1932 Die persoenlichen und politischen Beziehungen Bismarcks zu 1932 1935 Amerikaneru, Inaugural Dissertation, Darmstadt e.V. Hitlerism: The Iron Fist in Germany, Mohawk Press From Bismarck to Hitler: The Background of German Nation- alism, Bayard Press 1936 Mastery Units in Modern History, Colonial 1939 Race: A History at Modern Ethnic Theories, Longmans, Green 1941 1942 1942 1949 1949 1950 1952 1952 1954 1955 n.d. 1955 1955 1957 1958 1958 1959 1959 1961 1961 1962 &Co. A Survey of European Civilization, Vol, 1: To the End of the Middle Ages, Stackpole A Survey of European Civilization, Vol. 2: From 1500 to the Present, Stackpole A Handbook of Civilian Protection, ed. with Richard B. Morris and Joseph E. Wisan, Whittlesey House, McGraw-Hill A Treasury of Great Reporting (with Richard B. Morris), Simon and Schuster Vitalized Modern History (with J. Alexis Fenton), College Entrance A Treasury of Intimate Biographies, Greenberg They Saw It Happen (with Richard B. Morris), Stackpole German Nationalism: The Tragedy of a People, Stackpole The Meaning of Nationalism, Rutgers Univ. Press The Age of Reason, Van Nostrand The \Xlorld in the 20th Century, Van Nostrand Fifty Major Documents ot the 20th Century, Van Nostrand Fifty Major Documents of the 19th Century, Van Nostrand A Basic History of Modern Germany, Van Nostrand Documents of Germany History, Rutgers Univ. Press TI1e First Book of World War I, Franklin Watts The First Book ot World War II, Franklin Watts The First Book of the Soviet Union, Franklin Watts Hitler and Nazism, Franklin Watts The War: A Concise History, 1939-1945, Julian Messner The Imperialism Reader: Documents and Readings in Modern Expansionism, Van Nostrand The Idea of Racialism, Van Nostrand Masterpieces of \Var Reporting, Julian Messner The First Book of the Long Armistice, Franklin Watts Tile Dynamics of Nationalism: Readings in its Meaning and Development, Van Nostrand 1965 The Military History of the Lusitauia, Franklin Watts 1966 Pauorama of the Past, Vol. 1: Ancient Times to 1815, {with M. Perry and B. Mazen), Houghton Miffiin 1966 Panorama of the Past, VoL 2: 1815 to The Present, (with M. Perry and B. Mazcn), Houghton, Miffiin 1966 The Weimar Republic, Van Nostrand 1966 Bismarck and German Unification (with Ida Mae Brown), in The Immortals of History Series, Franklin Watts 1966 Western Europe: A Scholastic Multi-Text on World Affairs, Scholastic Enterprises 1967 The Making of Modern Man: Western Civilization Since 1500, Van Nostrand 1967 The Blood-and-Iron Cbanceiior: A Documentary Biography, Van Nostrand 1968 The New Nationalism, Cornell Univ. Press 1968 Frederick The Great (with Ida Mae Brown), in the Immortals of History Series, Franklin Watts 1970 Frederick the Great, in the Great Lives Observed Series, Prentice-Hall 1971 The Dreyfus Affair, a Focus Book, Franklin Watts 1971 Great Turning Points in History, Van Nostrand-Reinhold 1973 The Dreyfus Case: A Documentary History, Rutgers Univ. Press (In Press) A Comparative History of Nationalism, in the Comparative Dimensions in History Series, edited by Leonard W. Levy and Eugene C. Black, Holt, Rinehart and Winston (In Press) A Survey of Global Civilization (in collaboration with Mark \V. Hirsch), Van Nostrand (In Preparation) Reflections ou German History, a collection of essays, articles, and reviews. 1962 1964 1964 1964 21 �Graduation 1973 ANNAPOLIS GRADUATES LARGEST CLASS IN HISTORY The largest class in the history of the College was graduated at commencement exercises at Annapolis on May 27. Sixty-two seniors were presented their B.A. degrees by President Richard D. Weigle and Provost Paul D. Newland. Ford K. Brown, Tutor Emeritus, gave the commencement address. (His remarks appear elsewhere in this issue.) David K. Allison of Charlotte, N.C., dence E. Davis, Ronald J. Deal, Lee H. Elkins, Peter M. Fairbanks, Jon T. Ferrier, John H. Fitch, Jean K. FitzSimon, David F. Gilmore, Roger D. Greene, Jan L. Huttner, Robin Kowalchuk, Maura M. Landry, Russell C. Lipton, Sarah C. Lusk, Robert I. Main, was awarded his degree summa cum· laude. Mr. Allison won the silver medal for the senior with the highest standing and also received honorable mention for his senior essay. Summa Cum Laude: David K. Allison. Magna Cum Laude: Peter van Tuyl Davis, Matthew Albritton Frame. Cum Laude, Deborah Achtenberg, Jennifer Blaisdell, Robin Chalek, Richard D. Gasparotti, Debora J. Gilliland, Nicholas A. Petrone, Joanne A. Rowbottom, Steven P. Sedlis, Elizabeth E. Unger, Jessica R. Weissman. Rite, Edward W. Allen, Peter J. Aronson, Mary L. Batteen, Martha J. Bauer, Jerrold R. Caplan, Mary L. Coughlin, Bryant G. Cruse, Patrick J. D'Addario, Ronald J. Davidoff, Pru22 David K. Allison Matthew T. Mallory, Melissa J. Matthews, Frederick N. Mattis, Craig V. Mooring, Jeanne H. Mooring, Jan Munroe, Katherine O'Callaghan, Daniel S. Pearl, Lee D. Perlman, Deborah E. Schifter, Michael J. Schneider, Kathy Sciacchitano, C. Brian -Scott, Carol D. Shuh, Jeffrey A. Sinks, Daniel Sohn, Jane E. Spear, James E. Tourtelott, Vanessa L. van Manen, Dana K. Warren, Doris E. Warren, Bruce C. Wheeler, Irving H. Williams, Mary Jane Young, David C. Chute. AWARDS AND PRIZES Silver medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors-David K. Allison. The Sen. Millard E. Tydings award for excellence in speaking-Craig Mooring. The Duane L. Peterson scholarship of $1,250 to a JuniorNelson Lund. Best Senior essay-Sarah C. Lusk. Best Junior essay-Antonio L. Marino. Best Sophomore essay-George M. D. Anastaplo and Frank R. Hunt. Best Freshman essay-Juliet E. Goslee. Freshman-Sophomore mathematics prize-Shiu-Chun Wong. Best Greek translation-Nelson Lund. Best French translaticm-Timothy W. Born. (This translation appears elsewhere in this issue.) Best musical comment-James Nelson Jarvis. Scholarship awards of $1,000 each by the C. Markland Kelly, Jr. Memorial Foundation-Janet L. Christhilf, Ted A. Blanton, David E. Clement. �July 1973 Mark D. Jordan Former Senator Eugene ]. McCarthy is shown here awaiting the start of the baccalaureate service during commencement at Santa Fe. Graduating seniors shown arc Michael E. Mongeau, Steven L. Goldman, and Eric 0. Spriugstcd. l\.fr. McCarthy delivered the commencement address. SANTA FE AWARDS 34 DEGREES; HEARS EUGENE McCARTHY Former U.S. Senator Eugene J. McCarthy addressed the May 20th Grad- Edith Kathleen Callender, Mary Rose Gauler, Leslie Harold Gould, Marcia Ellen Greenbaum, Robert Morgan Hampton, Barbara Ann Harry, Jeffrey Alan Hockersmith, Catherine Tobin Ingraham, Paul Dale Knudson, Thomas Alex Lawson, Jan Malcheski, Constance Dolores McClellan, Michael Edward Mongeau, Nancy Kathryn Plese, Kenneth Winston Richman, Jr., Barbara Ann Rogan, Lowell Thomas Rundle, Christian Skinner Smith, Eric Osmon Springsted, James Ross Thompson, Jr., David Michael Wea- uation Ceremonies at Santa Fe7 where B.A. degrees were awarded to 33 senmrs. The first Master of Arts conferred on a teaching intern at Santa Fe went to Paul D. Mannick. Mark D. Jordan received the first summa cum laude degree at Santa Fe. He also won the Board of Visitors and Governors Silver Medal, he tied with Benjamin Bergery for the prize for best senior essay, and he received a $6,000 travel and study fellowship from the Thomas J. Watson Foundation. Summa Cum Laude: Mark Durham Jordan. Magna Cum Laude: Benjamin Bergcry, Galen Nately Breningstall, Peter Joseph Meadow. Cum Laude: Karl Edward Bohl- ver, India Williams. AWARDS AND PRIZES The traditional awarding of prizes and scholarships at the Santa Fe campus included a new category: The Bromwell Ault Memorial Scholarships "to members of the sophomore and junior classes for leadership ability, potential for service to society, broad intellectual interests, and academic abilmann7 Steven Lawrence Goldman 7 ity." Amounts depend on need, but a Gary Worth Moody, Joan Marie Paine. prize of $50 accompanies each scholarRite: Michael Bruce Aaron, Michel ship. Rene Barnes, Rebecca Ann Brinkley, They were presented by Vice-Presi- dent J. Burchenal Ault in memory of his father, who died last December. Bromwell Ault was a former member and Chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors. Winners of Awards and Prizes: Silver Medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors-Mark Durham Jordan. Thomas J. Watson Foundation Fellowship-Mark Durham Jordan. The Duane L. Peterson Scholarship of $1,000 to a Junior-Alejandro Medina. The Bromwell Ault Memorial Scholarships-Class of 1974: David Fayon Gross, Maria Kwong, Paul Andrew McEncroe, Anne C. Ray, Stephen Arnold Slusher. Class of 1975: Margaret Jean Donsbach, Mark Paul Habrel, Boyd Cooke Pratt, Richard Martin Skaug. Best Senior Class Essay-Benjamin Bergery and Mark Durham Jordan. Best Junior Class Essay-Steven Dahl 'Il1omas. Best Freshman Class EssayRobyn Lu Granquist. Best English Poems-Russell Wayne Mayfield. Second Prize-Christian Burks and Gary Worth Moody. Best Musical Composition-Russell Wayne Mayfield. Second Prize-Mark Paul Habrel. 23 �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES CURTIS WILSON IS NEW ANNAPOLIS DEAN Curtis A. Wilson, presently on the faculty of the University of California, San Diego, has been appointed Dean of St. John's in Annapolis. Mr. Wil· son's appointment was confirmed by the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College at its meeting in Santa Fe on May 19th. Mr. Wilson is a former member of the faculty, having served as Tutor in Annapolis from 1948 to 1958, as Dean for a four·year period, and then as Tutor on the College's Santa Fe cam· pus until 1966. Mr. Wilson did his undergraduate work at the University of California, Los Angeles, and earned his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees in the history of science at Columbia University. During 196263 he was a Visiting Research Fellow at Birkbeck College, University of London. Since 1966 he has been on the faculty at the University of California, San Diego. A corresponding Member of the Academic internationale d'histoire des sciences since 1971, Mr. Wilson is also a former Fulbright Fellow and author of William Heytesbury: Medieval Logic and the Rise of Mathematical Physics, for which he did research at the University of Padua in Italy. Mr. Wilson will assume his duties as Dean on July I. JONES NAMED DIRECTOR OF GRADUATE INSTITUTE David C. Jones has been appointed Director of the summer Graduate Institute in Liberal Education at Santa Fe. Mr. Jones has been a Tutor at St. John's since 1964 and at Santa Fe since 1965. 24 Curtis Wilson �July 1973 He graduated from the College in 1959 and received his M.A. at the University of Melbourne. He succeeds Robert A. Neidorf, who has been named Dean of the College at Santa Fe. The summer program, leading to the M.A. degree in the liberal arts, is de· beth Mitchell, Irvin Swartzberg, and Emmanuel Schifani. SANTA FE APPOINTS TWO NEW TUTORS The Board of Visitors and Governors has appointed two more tutors for the Santa Fe campus for 1973-74. They are Lorna Green and Bruce Venable. Miss Green, 34, is a biologist holding a Ph.D. from Rockefeller University. She is now studying for a second Ph.D., in philosophy, at the University of Toronto. Mr. Venable, 26, has been teaching classics at the University of Washing· ton. He is a summa cum laude grad· uatc of the Integrated Program of St. Mary's College in California. Mrs. Rinder has served as Adminis· trative Assistant to the Dean at An· napolis since 1969. Previously she served as Executive Secretary to Lowe Associates in Bedford, New York, from 1963 to 1969. She is a graduate of Packard Commercial School in New York City. FORMER VICE PRESIDENT RECEIVES LAW DEGREE .··~ David Jones signed for graduates of colleges other than St. John's. It is divided into four subject areas: Politics and Society, Lit· erature, Philosophy and Theology, and Mathematics and Natural Science. BURDGE AND DONNELLEY ARE NEW MEMBERS Richard M. Burdge and James R. Donnclley have been newly elected to the Board of Visitors and Governors. Mr. Burdge, of New York City, is the President of the American Stock Exchange. Mr. Donnelley is associated with R. R. Donnelley and Sons Com· pany in Chicago. In other action at its May meeting in Santa Fe, the Board elected the following officers: Chairman, Dr. Thomas B. Turner; Vice-chairmen, Mrs. Clementine Peterson and Jack M. Campbell; Secretary, W. Bernard Fleischman; Executive Committee, Mrs. Eleanor Ditzen, Mrs. Margaret W. Driscoll, Walter Evers, and John Gaw Meem. Re-elected to the Board were Miss Ruth M. Adams, Mrs. Margaret Bow· die, Mrs. Eleanor Ditzcn, Mrs. Eliza- Dr. James P. Shannon was named "the student best representative of the ideals of the University of New Mex· ico Law School" and he was chosen to give the commencement address for his own graduating class May 20 in Albuquerque. Dr. Shannon, a former Roman Cath· olic bishop, served as Vice President of the College and Director of the Graduate Institute at St. John's in Santa Fe in 1969-70. He plans to join the Santa Fe firm of Sutin, Thayer & Browne and he is interested in law relating to the poor and the conserva· tion of natural resources. He has a Ph.D. in American History from Yale University. He served as President of the College of St. Thomas as well as auxiliary bishop of Min· neapolis-St. Paul before coming to St. John's. ANNAPOLIS APPOINTS NEW REGISTRAR Paul D. Newland, Provost in An· napolis, has announced the appointment of Mrs. Leanore B. Rinder as Registrar, effective July 1, 1973. Mrs. Rinder will replace Mrs. Christiana D. \Vhite who is relinquishing her posi· tion in order to enroll as a student at the College. Mrs. White will continue to work part time in the Registrar's office. Anne Ray CONFERENCE OF CHRISTIANS AND JEWS HONORS ST. JOHN'S STUDENT The National Conference of Chris· tians and Jews in New Mexico has presented an award to St. John's stu· dent Anne Ray on May 2nd for her work with a Santa Fe drug program. Miss Ray, who is the granddaughter of a Baptist missionary and the great· granddaughter of a Rabbi, directs Out· reach, Inc., which is concerned pri- marily with teenage drug abusers. It is a three-part program offering crisis intervention, therapy and alternative service. She enrolled as a freshman at the Annapolis campus and then trans· £erred to Santa Fe. She will be a senior this coming year. Miss Ray was introduced at the awards dinner in Albuquerque by for· mer New Mexico Governor Jack M. Campbell, who is a vice chairman of the St. John's Board of Visitors and Governors. Her work with Outreach is one of several community programs sponsored by Federal Title I funds at St. John's. 25 �ALUMNI ACTIVITIES ROSENBERG, STERN ELECTED Julius Rosenberg '38 and Thomas E. Stern (SF) '68 this spring were elected to three-year terms on the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College. Mr. Rosenberg succeeds himself, since he has served this past year the unexpired term of J. S. Baker Middelton. Mr. Stern will replace Myron L. Wolbarsht, who has completed the allowed maximum of two consecutive threeyear terms. The thanks of all alumni go to Mr. Wolbarsht, and best wishes to Messrs. Stern and Rosenberg. Mr. Rosenberg is a past president oC the Alumni Association, of which he also served as treasurer. He was Direc- tor of Development on the Annapolis campus from September, 1968, to December, 1971. He is currently on the staff of the Associated Jewish Charities and Welfare Fund of Baltimore. Thomas Stern is a graduate of College in the first class on the western campus, and the first Santa Fe alumnus to be elected to the Board of the College. Following graduation he studied film work and economics at Stanford University, receiving an M.A. degree in 197!. He is president of Kinesis, Inc., a firm he organized in 1971 to produce motion pictures. Mrs. Stern, the former Nora Gallagher of the Santa Fe class of 1970, is employed by the Dow Jones Company, on the staff of the Wall Street Journal. The 26 Sterns make their home in Palo Alto, Cal. COUNSELLING SERVICE The somewhat on-and-off-again program of alumni assistance to students in matters concerning graduate school selection and admission, career counselling, and job opportunity has taken on new life in recent months. Building on the groundwork of Nancy (Eagle) Lindley's efforts several years ago, and prodded constantly by Jan Lisa Huttner '73, the then-student representative to the Board of the Association, the directors have established an Alumni-Student Counselling Service office. Costs are being borne by the College, while operations are the responsibility of the Association. T11e office is on the second floor of the Carroll Barrister House. Under the general supervision of V. Stephen Mainella '54, chairman of the Alumni-College Relations Committee, a student assistant, Tina Saddy '75, opens the office three days a week. Miss Saddy maintains a file of interested alumni, a list of the interest areas of juniors and seniors especially, and schedules meetings of students with alumni to discuss those interests. In addition, information about governmental and other job opportunities is kept on file. Four alumni-student meetings were held during the last few months of the second semester, and are scheduled to resume in the fall. How can alumni help with this most important project? First, if you can talk with students on campus, by 'phone, by mail, or in their hometowns, make sure your name and area of specialization are on file in the Coun- selling Office. (If in doubt, send it in again.) Second, if you know of job opportunities for which a St. John's graduate might qualify, let the Office know. And if you think your company personnel man should consider St. John's as a source of able young people, tell him so. The problems faced by new alumni are seldom unique, but St. John's alumni may have special problems. Despite his lack of academic specialization, and in some cases because of it, the St. Johnnie can fit into many situations. We ask all alumni to help our young alumni find those situations. ELECTION PROCEDURES REVIEWED The May meeting of the directors of the Alumni Association was devoted in large part to a review of the procedures for electing alumni to the Board of Visitors and Governors. There was general sentiment favoring earlier announcement of the election, and the desirability of finding an alternative to the present system of �July 1973 selecting nominees. Better ways of acquainting alumni with the nominees was also explored. Specific proposals, in the form of recommended amendments to the Association By-Laws, will be mailed later in the summer, to be acted upon at the Annual Meeting on September 29 (Homecoming). Probable recommendations are: (I) that a call for nominees by petition go out in the fall, possibly by way of the October issue of The College; ( 2) that all nominees by petition, together with those nominated by the Board of Directors, be listed in the January issue of the magazine, complete with biographies and pictures; and ( 3) that a ballot be included in the January issue to eliminate costly first class mailings. Also to be considered is the provision requiring two votes for ballot validation when there are two places to be filled. This provision was included in the 1969 revision of the By-Laws to prevent "single-shooting", whereby a very few alumni could assure election of a candidate by voting only for him. When so few ballots are cast-278 in the recent election-the results can be rather easily controlled. Whether this system should be continued is still subject to discussion. Opinions are welcome; send them to the Alumni Office in Annapolis. The last election also brought to the attention of some alumni two rather essential qualifications for service on the Board of the College: Board members must have the time to attend four two-day meetings a year, and the money to travel to and from meetings held alternately in Annapolis and Santa Fe. These two factors, rather than any policy of the Association or the College, have influenced past nominating committees to select older alumni. letic Director Bryce D. Jacobsen '42, a trophy was presented to sophomore Stephen Weber by Association President Bernard F. Gessner '27. Unfortunately, the women's winner was not determined until the following week, so freshman Jacqueline Blue could not receive her trophy at the luncheon. New York The New Yark group wound up the year with a series of three monthly seminars, led by tutors from the Annapolis campus. In March Acting Dean Elliott Zuckerman and John White '64 led a discussion of a chapter from Edgar Wind's Art and Anarchy. Assistant Dean Geoffrey Comber was present in April to help explore Melville's Bart/eby the Scrivener, and the final session in May, discussion of Martin Luther King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail and the Crito, was conducted by Robert L. Spaeth, editor of The College. HOMECOMING 1973 First, our apologies for the confusion caused by an erroneous entry in the April issue; Homecoming 1973 will take place on Friday and Saturday, September 28 and 29, in case any of you wondered about our calendar. And again, the early dates were necessitated by other activities in town the following three week-ends, activities which fill hotels and crowd restaurants and which ought to be avoided by Homecoming planners. Next, the Homecoming Committee The traditional cocktail party and dinner are being combined this year in an effort to trim the cost of activities. A cocktail party cum light buffet will be served in the gymnasium in the late afternoon and early evening. Alumni will then be free to make their own dinner plans, perhaps dining with tutors or seniors. Members of the faculty and the Senior Class will again be invited, and the Alumni Award of Merit will probably be presented during this activity. A detailed program and reservation information will be sent to all alumni mid-summer. If you plan to join in the fun, and want a hotel or motel reservation, let the Alumni Office know soon. And do plan to be here: we believe that most alumni come back to see other alumni and their friends among the Tutors, so you do not need full schedule details in order to make the important decision to come to Annapolis in September. Make a note of the dates: Friday and Saturday, September 28 and 29. See you at HOMECOMING. CLASS NOTES 1927 During the 1973 session of the Maryland General Assembly, newspaperman Elmer M. Jackson, Jr. was singularly honored by the House of Delegates. The legislators passed a resolution commending Jackson for his 50 years in journnlism, saying he is " ... a fine newspaperman who has always sought to present the news in an honest and responsible fashion, unembellished by any malicious or self-serving distor- tions." Jackson, a fanner president of the Alum- ni Association, has served on 19 State commissions, and currently serves on the Capital City event into the schedule. Last year it Commission with St. John's president Richard was the late-Friday bash at Buzzy's; D. \Veigle. Jack claims that his business keeps this year it will be a twilight cruise of him more active than ever, but we know that the Severn River Friday evening, with __ 911 certain sunny days, golf has been blown to lure him away from his desk. is trying to introduce an occasional new beer and sandwiches to accompany the scenery of a still-beautiful river. For 1929 those alumni wanting more intellectual WITH THE CHAPTERS Annapolis The May luncheon of the Annapolis Alumni chapter was the occasion for the presentation of awards to the high point winners in the College's intramural competition. Sponsored by the Association at the suggestion of Ath- John \V. Boucher, who has been taking edu· fare, there will be a lecture or concert at the College. Buzzy's could again be a lateonight rendezvous if we want. On Saturday the usual events will be cation courses at the University of Alabama in Bim1ingham since last June, is now doing grad· uate work toward secondary school certification. He is also teaching part-time in a preparatory school and coaching the golf team, and " . . . thoroughly enjoying it." held: alumni seminars, luncheon, An- nual Meeting, graduate school counselling, and a soccer game in which the young and/or agile may participate at their own risk. 1936 Sharon Warfield Hebb, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Parish Hebb, was married on March 30 in Baltimore. 27 �The College 1937 Dr. Norval A. Kemp this past winter was appointed associate director of the Perth Amboy (N.J.) General Hospital, heading the new division of medical affairs. Prior to his appointment, Dr. Kemp was medical administrator of St. Francis Community Health Center, Jersey City. A diplomate of the American Board of Internal Medicine, Dr. Kemp is an associate clinical professor of medicine at the College of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey. 1952 A long letter from Alvin Aronson to Provost Paul Newland arrived in ear1y May, Alvin is enrolled in a school for English teachers in Netanya, Israel, and has a job teaching in a high school there. Since reaching Jsrael last fall, AI has met Jerry Cantor '49 and Raphael Ben Josef '48. Jerry suggests they start a St. John's in Israel; AI suggests the slogan "Read The Bible Where It Really Happened." AI has started a new play, about which he expresses cautious optimism. 1956 KGO-TV in San Francisco recently received an Emmy from the local chapter of the National Academy of Television Arts and ScienCes for it~ program "Ne\\rs Scene." The award \vas accepted by the station's news director, Pat Polillo. Everett H. Wilson for the past two years has been coordinator of the Maryland Drug Abuse Program. 1959 David Jones, a Tutor in Santa Fe since 1965, has been named Director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education. David holds an M.A. degree from the University of Melbourne, and studied at the University of Texas before joining the St. John's faculty. 1960 Jolm E. Gorecki is teaching English at the University of South Carolina and is working on his Ph.D. dissertation on Milton. His graduate work has been concentrated on Old English and Renaissance literature. Miss Miriam Strange passed along a long letter from Katherine (Hsu) Haas, describing the latest enterprise in which she and husband Ray '58 are engaged. Together with her brother, they operate a cattle ranch near Solen, North Dakota. That is near the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation, south of Bismark about 40 miles, according to the Alumni Office atlas. This new career comes after five years teaching at the Key School in Annapolis, four years as head of the mathematics department at Science Research Associates in Chicago, and three years as managing editor of the mathematics department of Field Educational Publications in Palo Alto, Cal. Now it's 1,500 acres, 90 head of cattle (soon to be increased by 60 births), with Ray mending fences, delivering calves, and plowing and discing the land. Katherine is teaching school and taking courses under the Federal Teacher Corps Program 28 at the University of North Dakota. In about another year she will have her B.S. degree. Since her students are mostly Indians, she has learned their dances, and is learning the Lakota language. (The Haas-Hsu cattle brand looks like "Two Lazy H", if your editor has not forgotten how to read brands.) 1962 W'. James Klug III has been transferred by IBM from Dayton, N.J., to Bethesda, Md. He plans to move to Poolesville, Md., about the first of July. 1964 Another IBMer, Jim's brother Robert W. Kiug, has been transferred from Wilmington, Del., to Franklin Lakes, N.J. (Did you know that IBM employs more St. John's alumni than any other corporation?) 1966 Lauric Fink writes from North Hollywood, Cal., where she works for a 3-D motion picture company called Stereovision International. She is helping to make movies, and is also learning to be a film editor; she says the work is both interesting and totally demanding. 1967 Loren and Carole (Picardo) Kelley let us know in March of the birth in June, 1971, of son Owen, and also told us Ovven is expecting a brother or sister in April or May. Loren is still employed in Italy, where he is developing some equipment for Honeywell Italia. Just in case you missed the item in the "News on the Campuses" section of the April issue, three honors graduates of this class are joining the St. John's faculty for the next academic year. William H. Donahue, James R. Mensch, and Howard Zciderman next September will become members of the Santa Fe faculty. Bill has been studying at King's College, Cambridge; Jim has earned a M.S.L. degree from the Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies in Toronto and Howard received an M.A. degree from Princeton in 1972. 1968 Thomas G. Keens, M.D. (SF) tells us he received his medical degree from the University of California (San Diego} School of Medicine in June, 1972. He is at present finishing his internship in pediatrics at Children's Hospital in Los Angeles, and will start his first year of residency there in July. Tom married Susan Elizabeth Keffala in May last year. Mrs. Keens is a 1971 psychology graduate of the John Muir College of the University of California (San Diego.) Thomas E. Stern (SF), successfully nominated as an alumni representative on the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College, was also successful in the election. (See artic1e elsewhere in this issue.) 1969 Steven L. and Carol Ann (Lightner) Tucker (SF) are living in Santa Fe, where Steve is serving as Jaw clerk to Oliver Seth, Circuit Judge of the U.S. Court of Appeals. Carol is working at \Vhen his completed, practice in the Sandra Wilson Art Gallery. service with Judge Seth has been Steve plans to enter private law Santa Fe. 1970 Jeffrey D. Friedman, another of our men in Israel, reports dissatisfaction with his studies in philosophy at the Hebrew University. He spent the first half of this year in the Pardes School of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem (Lydia Kleiner '74 is also a student there). He is now at Hartman College, and lives at Rekov HaOr 2, behind the Jerusalem Central Bus Station, telephone (Jerusalem area code 02) 525162, in case you are in Israel. John D. Smith reports he is teaching a course in "hamburger stands" in the Department of Architecture at the University of New Mexico. His wife, Gabrielle (Eershen) '68 is working with the computer as a device for making art. 1971 Emmie Louise Gage (SF) reports understandable happiness at no longer being a member of the White House staff: " ... a strange Place and politics is such a heavy racket ..." seems an apt description. Bonnie is now doing real estate work on Cape Cod, Yarmouthport, to be exact. John Smith also reports that Travis Price (SF) has founded an organization called Sun Mountain, to plan solar heated communities. Travis lives in Santa Fe. V. Michael Victoroff recently sent greetings from Houston, and says that medical school (Baylor) is going just fine. In Memoriam 1911-Edgar Stanley Bowlus, Jackson, Miss., January 1973. 1913-W. Stewart Fitzgerald, Denton, Md., April25, 1973. 1917-Fendall Marbury, Baltimore, Md., February 14, 1973. 1918-----.:.0wen Friend, Cambridge Springs, Pa., August 22, 1972. 1923-James Nelson Day, St. Petersburg, Fla., April IS, 1973. 1925-Prcston A. Pairo, Sr., Baltimore, Md., March 25, 1973. 1931-Tiwmas G. Andrew, Baltimore, Md., May 19, 1973. 1931-Dr. Antonio A. Susoni, Arecibo, P.R., March, 1973. 1931-Charles M. West, Jr., Centreville, Md., December 31, 1972. 1937-George R. Hoover, Boca Raton, Fla., February 28, 1973. 1944-Dr. Robert Wilcox, Iowa City, !a., May 16, 1973. �"POESIE" BY PAUL VALERY English Translation by Timothy Born Par la surprise saisie, Une bouche qui buvait An sein de Ia PoCsie En separe son duvet: By surprise seized, A mouth which had drunk Removes its lips From the breast of Poetry: -0 rna mCrc Intelligence, De qui la douceur coulait, Quelle est cette negligence Qui laisse tarir son lait! 0 :rvrother Intelligence! From whom sweetness flows, \r\lhat is this negligence \Vhich lets your nipple close? A peine sur ta poi trine, AccablC de blancs liens, Me berc;ait l'onde marine De ton coeur charge de biens; Hardly in your chest's enclave, Subdued by white chains, And I was rocked by the ocean wave Of your heart charged with gains. A peinc dans ton ciel sombre, Abattu sur ta beautC, Jc sentais, a boire l'ombre, .l'VI'envahir une clarte! Hardly in your sombre meadow, Beaten on your beauty, I felt, on drinking of the shadow, Myself invaded by clarity. Dieu perdu dans son essence, Et dEdicieusement Docile a la connaissance Du supreme apaisemcnt, God lost in the essence; And deliciously docile To a cognizance Of supreme tranquility ... .J e touchais a la nuit pure, Je ne savais plus mourir, Car un fieuve sans coupure Me semblait me parcourir... I was touching the pure night, And knew death no longer, As a stream without end Through me seemed to run. Dis, par quelle crainte vaine, Par queUe ombre de dCpit, Cette mcrveilleuse veine Ames Ievres sc rompit? Tell, by what vain fear, By what shadow of pain Is severed at my lips This marvellous vein? 0 rigueur, tu m'cs un signe Qu'a mon :lme je dCplus! Le silence au vol de cygne Entre nous ne regne plus1. ... 0 harshness, you are a sign that I have displeased my soul. The silence at the flight of the swan Between us no longer reigns. Immortelle, ta paupiCre .Me refuse mes trCsors, Et la chair s'est faitre pierre Qui fut tendrc sous mon corps! Immortal, your eyelid Refuses me my treasures, And flesh, once tender beneath my body, Turns to stone. Des cieux mCme tu me sevres, Par quel injuste retour? Que seras-tu sans mes lCvres? Que serai-je sans amour? You wean me of the very heavens Ry what unjust reverse? VVhat will you be without my lips, ''Vhat will I be without your love? Mais la Source suspendue Lui repond sans durete: -Si fort vous m'avez mordue Que mon coeur s'est arrete! But the suspended source Replies softly, You have bitten me so hard That my heart is stopped. I Timoti1y Born '76, a student on the Annapolis campus, won a prize at the 197 3 Commeuccment proceedings for this translation. �Photo Credits: Cover, Cecil Fox; page 6, James Grady '73; page 7, Ralph Hilt; page 23, George Rowhottom '71; page 24, Lynn Waugh '70; back cover, Chris Sparrow. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 28 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, July 1973 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Spaeth, Robert Louis Parran, Jr. Thomas Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Description An account of the resource Volume XXV, Number 2 of The College. Published in July 1973. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_25_No_2_1973 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/b6d31f3ce7aeb3f3eaf308f59818fe14.pdf ec0f8e890e3c58a66eba9e18e74fb1b3 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico October 1973 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXV October, 1973 No.3 IN THE OCTOBER ISSUE: The Liberal Arts Movement: From Ideas to Practice, by Amy Apfel Kass Report of the President, 1972-73 ........... 9 News on the Campuses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Alumni Activities 30 ....................... Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Michael W. Ham, Paul D. Newland, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Robert S. Zelenka. THE COLLEGE is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President, Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four times a year, in January, April, July and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. �THE LIBERAL ARTS MOVEMENT: FROM IDEAS TO PRACTICE by Amy Apfel Kass On the morning of November 19, 1929, the following editorial appeared in The Daily Maroon, the student newspaper of the University of Chicago: Today amid scenes of academic grandeur, Robert Maynard Hutchins will be inauguratedas the fifth president of the University of Chicago. It is an occasion of vast moment in the history of the University and we as undergraduates are inspired with its significance. We are confident of the progressive ~pirit and the sympathetic understanding of the new administration. We are further convinced that the program of educational emancipation which has distinguished the University in American college circles will not be neglected. In a consideration of the occasion's whole significance one aspect appears to us most distasteful. The functions and duties of a college administrator have changed radically in the course of recent years. He is no longer an educator, but a salesman and extortioner ne plus ultra. The planning and execution of educational policies is no longer his prime consideration. He must secure donations and endowments; he must acquire funds for the University's physical expansion. The importance of this mercenary and unsavory function of the administrator is particularly evident here where the grey towers continue to rise on a Gargantuan scale. It is to be hoped that the pressure of this work will not require the whole devotion of President Hutchins. We feel that he, like former President Max Mason, possesses educational ideals which if given opportunity for development, will place the University of Chicago in far greater prominence than the addition of any number of new buildings. We urge that the new administration take heed of its primary responsibility and its greatest opportunitythe progressive guidance of educational policies. The students got their wish, with interest. Hutchins' ideas rapidly became common knowledge and the entire campus became a place of debate and conflict, sometimes verging on open· warfare. Mortimer Adler's cryptic note to Hutchins on the eve of his inauguration had been more knowingly prophetic: "I trust that the University's funds are securely invested. Otherwise they may have to pawn the crown jewels before your inauguration. But you will probably wear the crown lightly in either ·circumstance.. '' The Department of Philosophical StudieS As soon as Hutchins was appointed President of the University of Chicago, he invited Mortimer Adler to join him as his philosophical guide. Although Adler did not move to Chicago until the Fall of 1930, by the Spring of 1930,;the end of Hutchins' first year at the University, a scheme had been hatched by Adler to institutionalize work he had begun at the People's Institute in New York with Scott Buchanan and Richard McKeon. Adler proposed that Hutchins create a new department in the University, a Department of Philosophical Studies. Adler thought that such a department would provide by example a way to integrate learning within the University. The proposed Department of PhilosophiCal Studies would be independent of but related· to all existing departments in the University. "It would have no more or less to do with the regular Department of Philosophy," Adler said, "than it would have to do with the Law School, Medical School, or the Departments of Physics or Fine Arts." The members of the Department would be "student1 �The College professors," "a third class of professors along side of the already recognized classes of teaching-professors and research-professors." Their work would be to analyze and evaluate the principles and methods of the various subject matters and to relate these to each other. "First of all," Adler suggested, the studentprofessors would study a subject-matter maturely and critically. Secondly, they would actively participate in the work of the department, in class and out. And lastly, after they had trained themselves and educated themselves sufficiently, and if they had achieved a critical re-organization or approach to the subject matter, they might give others the benefits of this insight by giving a course which might be equally profitable to undergraduates, graduate students, and professors of the other two varieties. In practice, the student-professors would go from one department of the University to another, staying in one place only as long as they_ found it useful to themselves. (Adler assumed that when they ceased to learn from a given department, they would no longer be useful to that department.) As the studentprofessors passed from one department to another, they would create "new lines of inquiry into borderline areas and promote integration by offering interdisciplinary courses. For example, as students of philosophy they could bring philosophy to the Law School; after immersing themselves in the study of law they would offer a course in the philosophical foundations of law. They ·could then bring philosophy and law to the next department in which they decided to study, and so on. In addition, because they were continuing their own education in different fields, these student-professors would be unusually well-suited to offer courses in the great books, an additional means of promoting the "integration of learning. Moreover, Adler thought that these courses would educate good undergraduates "in such a way that they might be recruited for the work of the Department of Philosophical Studies." Thus, Adler's scheme provided for its own perpetuation as well as a congenial home for himself and his fellow "liberal artists," Buchanan and McKeon. For Adler insisted to Hutchins that the success of his and Hutchins' plans for the University required the reunion of the "triune," Adler, Buchanan, and 2 McKeon. Though the "student-professors" were to be vagabonds within the University, they were to be appointed to a separate official department in order to· make it possible to get an endowment and thus insure their financial independence from other departments. Adler innocently thought that if his department had its own budget it would require minimal co-operation from other departments, and therefore, that his plan would not be viewed as a threat or a challenge. The "Chicago Fight" and Its Consequences Many faculty members were, however, immediately wary of the plan and became increasingly suspicious of its proponents. Members of the Philosophy Department were especially alarmed, seeing in the plan the seeds of a revolution against their kind of philosophizing. Others saw the plan as a "power conspiracy on the part of the administration, which was pictured as a 'baby president,' aided by Savonarola and Richelieu" (Buchanan, Poetry and Mathematics, page 23). They regarded Hutchins as a radical upstart against the revered "Chicago School,'' as a man in search of a new religion. Still others saw Hutchins as dangerously conservative, as a man seeking to resurrect beliefs and practices of less enlightened ages. United by a common enemy, these various groups joined forces and prepared themselves for a long and bitter crusade. Their battle cries became "Facts vs. Ideas," "Empiricism vs. Speculation," "Science vs. Dogma." The "Chicago Fight" was quickly overshadowing the "Chicago School." One can better understand the severity of the faculty reaction if one appreciates the long-standing and pervasive influence of the "Chicago School." The "Chicago School" was originally identified with the names of John Dewey, George Herbert Mead, James R. Angell, and James H. Tufts. In a review of some of the early philosophical papers by these men, William James wrote, shortly after 1900: The rest of the world has made merry over the Chicago man's legendary saying that 'Chicago hasn't had time to get round to culture yet, but when she does strike her, she'll make her hum!' Already the prophecy is fulfilling itself in a dazzling manner. Chicago has a School of Thought!-a school of thought which, it is safe to predict, will figure in literature as �October 1973 the School of Chicago for twenty-five years to come. He concluded with the comment that the work of Dewey and his colleagues and disciples presented "a view of the world, both theoretical and practical, which is so simple, massive, and positive that, in spite of the fact that many parts of it yet need to be worked out, it deserves the title of a new system of philosophy." John ·Dewey had come to the University of Chicago in 1894 as Professor of Philosophy. James Angell was appointed the same year as Assistant Professor of Psychology and Director of the Psychological Laboratory that had been started the previous year. Tufts and Mead had been at Chicago from its beginning in 1892. In 1894, Dewey, the oldest of the group, was thirty-five, Angell, the youngest, was twenty-five. They were all interested in psychology. They all collaborated in their early publications. When Dewey left the University of Chicago in 1904, the spirit that had come to characterize the Philosophy Department lingered. In the meantime, it had spread to other parts of the University as well. The "Chicago School" came to be identified with a certain attitude toward knowledge and the nature of the knowable and, hence, with a certain view of education and the role of a university. The assumptions underlying this view could be found in the new mechanistic biology, in behaviorism, in the new scientific sociology, as well as in writings and ven lures in progressive education. The ideas of the Chicago School were related to a more general American cultural revolt that began at the end of the nineteenth century; Morton White has called it the revolt against formalism. It was characterized by the conviction that traditional learning was inadequate to a proper understanding of society and incapable of assimilating and promoting social and cultural progress. Timehonored theories were eagerly attacked. Beliefs in the existence of immutable truths were ridiculed. Philosophers, physicists, chemists, and mathematicians, as well as social scientists and even humanists, vied with one another to break through barriers, to efface outlines, and to supersede current concepts. Undergraduate education became pre-professional training. The devotion to "progress", scientific and social, required special training in facts, methods, and techniques. Adler and Hutchins found this spirit as prevalent in the Chicago of 1930 as it had been in the Chicago of 1904. Dedicated to their separate disciplines, the · faculty correctly perceived Hutchins' animus against specialization, They made it impossible for Hutchins . to create the Department of Philosophical Studies by going through the normal academic channels. Also, it became exceedingly difficult for him to find a home for Mortimer Adler anywhere at the University outside of the President's office. Hutchins' negotiations with the Philosophy Department on Adler's behalf were doomed from the beginning. Prior to coming to Chicago, Adler submitted a list of the courses that he was interested in ·offering, a list which included such diverse topics as the logic of science, the logic of' induction, the philosophy of law, and the history and analysis of psychological theory. His proposal was summarily rejected. Writing on behalf of the Department of P\J.ilosophy, James H. Tufts stated their position as follows: "It so happens that these identical courses have already been announced to be given in the Department for the next year (at least the copy has gone to the printer)." No attempt was made to ascertain whether the coincidence of titles also meant a coincidence of subject matter. Furthermore, a perusal of the published announcement for that year indicates overlap · on only two topics, the logic of science and the logic of induction. In their later negotiations, Adler suggested changing the titles of the courses he proposed to "Apologetics of Natural Science" and "Theory of Probability." But the Department of Philosophy held to its original position. By rejecting Adler's suggestions for possible courses, they made it quite clear that they were not interested in Adler and that they did not share the interdepartmental frame of mind that was so crucial to Hutchins' and Adler's plans for the University. In the years that followed, Adler's ever-precarious faculty status at the University became the symptom if not the chief sign of Hutchins' own failure to effect fundamental change. Hutchins was forced to cancel the provisional appointments he had offered to Scott Buchanan and Richard McKeon and to sh~lve the plan for a Department of Philosophical Studies. In its place one seminar in the reading and discussion of the great books was offered to undergraduates at the University. This seminar was Adler's major teaching assignment during his first year at Chicago. His co-leader in the seminar was Hutchins. It was the first of several similar seminars that Hutchins and Adler taught during the next several years in various parts of the University, in the College, at the High School 3 �The College of the University, and in the Department of Education. A more elaborate seminar was designed for the Law SchooL Despite these signs of retreat, the fires that had been kindled by the Adler-Hutchins proposal could not be extinguished. The old guard in the Department of Philosophy, the venerable George H. Mead and two of his younger colleagues, resigned, as did other members of the faculty, .and many more remained but fumed. Discouraged but not defeated, Hutchins and Adler persisted in their efforts to bring the liberal arts to Chicago. In 1934, McKeon, who had remained in New York (teaching. at Columbia and at the Muhlenberg Branch of the New York Public Library), was once again invited to the University, this time as a Visiting Professor in the Department of History. By first bringing McKeon to the University under the auspices of a department other than the Philosophy Department, Hutchins was eventually able to secure a permanent position for him. In 1935, McKeon was made Dean of the Division of the Humanities and Professor of Greek, and later, also Professor of Philosophy. McKeon continued as Dean for the next twelve years and in that capacity played a major role in restructuring general education in the College and the graduate programs in the Humanities. Unable to secure a position for Buchanan at Chicago, Hutchins arranged for Buchanan to meet Mrs. Ethel S. Dummer, a social activist and philanthropist whom he had met in connection with his fund-raising activities. Mrs. Dummer had read Buchanan's book, Poetry and Mathematics, and had concluded that Scott Buchanan could be of some assistance to her in her study of the writings of George Boole, the English logician and mathematician, and his wife, Mary Boole. Buchanan was attracted by the study because of its relation to his own intellectual interests. George Boole, he explained in a memorandum to Hutchins, was really a very interesting and important figure in modem logic and mathematics, and his importance extends far beyond the somewhat restricted developments that chance and professional techniques have given his work. He was a real mathematician and a real logician who realised what tremendous things could be accomplished if his methods were applied to all sorts of subject-matters. He realised, for instance, that mathematics itself had suffered a serious degradation on account of its isolation from other fields of 4 thought, and that its own full development required many varied fields of application. Modem science is an example of what happens when mathematical methods spread to other subject-matters, and mathematics itself gained much from even this restricted application. But it was still cramped by a rather arbitrary restriction to numbers, quantities, etc. The special way he chose to exhibit the greater possible extent of its domain was the use of algebraic symbols to express nonquantitative terms. The method was not understood in its original form. Mathematical logicians founded their science as a kind of calculating machine and then became so fascinated with the machinery that they forgot its original function and misused its results. It is now difficult to persuade any scientist that symbolic logic has any relevance to their work, although it was for this that Boole did his work. Mary Boole saw what was happening and came in to correct the mistake. She had the insight, but fell for the temptation to make immediate applications before she had developed the skill and the improved machinery that was of course necessary for success. This is the failure that Mrs. Dummer mourns, and wants me to recover. Buchanan was to go to England to look into the work of the Booles and to try to reconstruct the method that they had developed. This fitted in well with a project he had started in New York (with Adler and McKcon)--an investigation of the relation between poetry and mathematics, between mathematical and non-mathematical subject matters, that is, a study of the liberal arts. To Hutchins, Mrs. Dummer's plan represented a way of keeping alive the idea for a Department of Philosophical Studies without further incurring the wrath of his faculty. He therefore encouraged Buchanan to begin the project. At the end of his year in England, Buchanan wrote a small book entitled Symbolic Distance, in which he developed the themes from his previous book Poetry and Mathematics: " ...The bridge between the poetry of the trivium and the mathematics of the quadrivium was presented as a theory of measurement and fiction." Reflecting on this later, he commented, "It seemed to me that it would be through some such �October understanding that the modern liberal arts and sciences could bring the modern literatures and sciences into intelligible and teaching order." Since Hutchins was still unable to convince the remaining members of the Philosophy Department to hire Buchanan, Buchanan returned to the University of Virginia after his year in England. Shortly thereafter, he was invited to join a committee at the University of Virginia whose assignment was to find "better subject matter and discipline" for Honors Students. Stringfellow Barr, Buchanan's friend and former colleague at Oxford University, was then teaching history at the University of Virginia and editing the Virginia Quarterly Review; he too was asked to join the committee. The group sat regularly from September, 1934, until March, 1935. They reported their findings in what came to be known as the "Virginia Plan," the background and contents of which shall be discussed in more detail below. Early Great Books Courses at the University of Chicago The first great books* course to be offered at the University of Chicago was unceremoniously announced in the 1930 Autumn Quarter Time Schedule. The course was called General Honors II 0 and described as follows: "By invitation and limited to twenty students ... the one two-hour class session a week, of a two year course, will be taught by Adler, Hutchins." Twenty students, chosen randomly by the Dean of the College from among the top entering freshmen, were enrolled in the course. The course and its reading list were modeled on John Erskine's General Honours course, begun at Columbia ten years earlier (a course which Adler had taken as an undergraduate, and in which he, McKeon, and Mark Van Doren had taught in the middle 1920's). Students were examined orally at the end of each year by a group of outside examiners: Richard McKeon, Mark Van 1973 Doren, Scott Buchanan, and Stringfellow Barr. Before too long, these afternoon sessions garnered some fame. People from all parts of the University came in droves to observe classes. Famous visitors included Katherine Cornell, Orson Wells, Westbrook Pegler, Lillian Gish, and Gertrude Stein. According to numerous reports, the class always provided "a good show." The Great Books Seminar generated more than entertainment. The enthusiasm of its students spread like a contagion throughout the University. They brought an eagerness for learning, for exchanging ideas, and for discussing philosophical matters to the whole campus. One observer remarked that the pursuit of knowledge had become the major extracurricular activity. John P. Barden, a student in the original Great Books class, became editor of the student newspaper, The Maroon (1933-34). Under his editorship, The Maroon became a forum for spirited discussions of the purposes and means of education, and in its pages students and faculty engaged with each other in a variety of alliances and oppositions. Despite its apparent success with the students, most of the faculty remained hostile to the great books course and to the idea behind it. Mortimer Adler remained persona non grata. In another effort to make Adler acceptable and to institute some of their ideas, Hutchins organized an honors course in the Law School for 1933-34. Adler was put in charge of the course and given a temporary appoin !men t as Associate Professor of Philosophy of Law in the Law School. The course followed the same format that Hu !chins and Adler had used in their original course in the College: lectures on and reading of the great books, combined with a discussion seminar that met once a week. The following year (1934-35) a much enlarged version of the course was offered and an enlarged staff was gathered to teach it. Malcolm Sharp, then a Visiting Professor at the Law School, agreed to be Adler's co-leader. Sharp had been an enthusiastic about the origin of the list of books signified by this phrase he called the "one hundred best books" in a pamphlet One Hundred Books.{The number one hundred was used to convey the fact that there were very few best books, not that there were only one hundred.) In 1902, the Grolier Club of the City of New York republished Lubbock's list and asked George Woodberry to write an introduction to it. At this time John and by such phrases as "the masterpieces," "the best books," "very important books," or "the classics." According to studying with Woodberry. Shortly after World War I, John *The origin of the phrase "the great books" is obscure. Adler and Buchanan consistently used1 it. John Erskine, Adler's teacher in the General Honours Course, referred to the books as the "classics" or "masterpieces." It seems likely that the phrase was coined by Adler or Buchanan. More is known Buchanan, Sir John Lubbock (an English writer and banker interested in the education of working men) was the originator of the modern list. In 1895, Lubbock published a list of what Erskine was a graduate student at Columbia University Erskine introduced the General Honours Course at Columbia University, an undergraduate course in which "masterpieces of the Western world" were read. 5 �The College teacher in Alexander Meiklejohn's Experimental College at the University of Wisconsin, one of the first programs to emphasize the study of the great books. Hutchins was delighted to leam of Sharp's interest in the course and of the Law School's independent interest in luring Sharp onto its faculty. Both the course and Adler, Hutchins hoped, would profit from Sharp's participation. William Gorman was brought to the University by special invitation from Hutchins and was made an assistant in the course. After receiving his bachelor's degree at the University of Michigan, Gorman had become the editor of Hound and Horn, a journal of literary criticism. He had lived in New York City where he continued to associate with his Michigan friends, many of whom were then studying with Richard McKeon at Columbia. Discussions with these friends had led him to write an article on the new mode of literary criticism expounded by I.A. Richards and C.K. Ogden. The article, entitled "Nostalgia for the Trivium," censured the so-called new criticism for its claim of novelty and for its ignorance of the tradition of grammar, rhetoric, and logic, and it praised instead the efforts of people like Scott Buchanan and Richard McKeon to restore the Trivium. Hutchins read the article and, though knowing nothing else about him, sent Gorman the following letter: "I read your piece on 'Nostalgia for the Trivium.' Come to the University of Chicago." The other course assistants were Arthur Rubin, a close friend and associate of Hutchins and Adler, and James S. Martin, who had been a student in the Adler-Hutchins Great Books Seminar. (Gorman and Martin were later to join Barr and Buchanan in their first years at St. John's). The enlarged course was considered equivalent to eight regular courses. It was offered to twenty college seniors headed for the Law School and constituted their total curriculum. (The current President of the University of Chicago, Edward H. Levi, was one of the twenty.) The course, entitled "Law 201," was organized into two major parts which were integrally related. One part consisted of lectures and tutorials in grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and mathematics. The second part consisted of reading and seminar discussion of a small number of great works of history, science, philosophy, and belles lettres. In connection with the reading of scientific classics, students were supposed to participate in laboratory research in order better to appreciate the methods and techniques of science. However, this third aspect of the 6 curriculum was never implemented. Seminar readings were chosen largely from social studies, because the course was designed for pre-law students. The reading and discussion of these works was supplemented with presentations of factual material useful for understanding important social problems. Efforts were made to show the relevance of the liberal arts and the scientific method for understanding and "solving" social problems. The methods of instruction varied for different parts of the curriculum. The first part of the course was taught by means of one or two lectures a week and tutorials devoted to exercises, analyses of texts, and other forms of wlitten and oral work. In the second part, the classics were discussed in infonnal seminars which met once a week; further supplementary discussions were often carried over to the tutorial sessions. Discussion of basic social problems was carried on in special seminars called for that purpose. In addition, students were urged to attend those lectures given elsewhere in the University that were considered relevant to the work being done in the course. Students and faculty together determined what was relevant. Law 201 was the first institutionalized attempt to balance literary and scientific concems and to apply the themes and disciplines of the liberal arts to the great books. Like its predecessor, the Adler-Hutchins Great Books Seminar, Law 20 I was extremely popular with the students and extremely unpopular with the faculty. Faculty criticism continued to mount; both Hutchins' mode of appointing tutors and the character of the curriculum were under constant attack. In the end, the course did not accomplish either of its political goals: it did not gain any further faculty respect for Adler nor any more faculty support for Hutchins' ideas about education. The course was repeated in an attenuated form-all the scientific work, including the mathematics and the reading of the scientific classics, was abandonedfor three more years before it was permanently discontinued. Scott Buchanan, in the meantime, had been working out a similar course of study at the University of Virginia as a member of the Virginia Committee on Honors. The "liberal artists" at the two universities kept in close communication through correspondence and frequent visits to give lectures. Although the objectives of the respective plans were the same at both universities, the Virginia Plan, as the Report of the Virginia Committee on Honors came to be called, was more rigorous and comprehensive, especially in its scientific aspects, than Law 20 I. �October The Virginia Plan In September, 1934, the President of the University of Virginia, Edwin A. Alderman, appointed a committee consisting of six faculty members and the Dean of the College to consider the subject of Honors Courses in the University. The President thought that the University ought to do more than it was doing for its better college students. The committee members agreed at the outset to make a broad interpretation of their assignment. The problem of Honors Students and Honors Courses at the University. they thought, could not be separated from the problem of students and courses in general. Faculty members devoted most of their energies to research, indulging their special interests which were often far removed from the interests and understanding of their undergraduate students. As on nearly all other campuses, the cuiTiculum was entirely elective and specialized, all efforts having been abandoned to design coherent programs for undergraduates. Many students turned to the University's sideshows, athletics and other activities, partly out of boredom, partly to secure the discipline which they found lacking in the classroom. Some students undertook serious reading, sometimes with a group of their fellow students, sometimes under the guidance of a professor. Nearly all looked on the strictly curricular exercises of the University as inteiTuptions that must be borne patiently. For these reasons, the committee decided to address itself to the question of what an undergraduate college as a whole should be teaching and learning. l t proceeded on the assumption that all students were capable of and DLrght to receive a liberal education. The committee members hoped that the recommendations they would make for Honors Students would eventually be considered for the whole college. The committee met weekly for six months and then issued its report, drafted by Scott Buchanan, Stringfellow BaiT, and R. K. Gooch. Although several alternate proposals had been considered at the committee meetings, the plan finally adopted and presented in the report was the one suggested by Buchanan. In the early discussions, BaiT had been a severe critic of Buchanan's proposal. BaiT viewed his emphasis on great books as a kind of patent medicine. However, after a great deal of teasing from Buchanan, he began using some of the classics in his history courses. "For instance, if they were doing undergraduate ancient history, I would let them read 1973 Plutarch instead of something somebody had written about ancient Greece," BaiT later recalled, "and I noticed that Scott was right-that if you had discussions on the basis of Plutarch or Herodotus or Thucydides, something happened to the discussion that I had never seen happen before. These authors got under their hides." As a result of this expetience, BaiT supported Buchanan's proposal. Rather than propose specific changes in the already existing cuiTiculum, the report recommended that the University found a small college within the college that would be devoted to liberal education. Two years of required common study would be followed by two years of special honors work. The two two-year sequences were designed as an integral whole, calculated, as the committee reported, "on the one hand to lay sound foundations for a developed understanding of our intellectual traditions, and on the other to permit the student to follow in his maturer years his special bent." During the last two years students were to be freed from routine courses, quizzes, and term examinations, and allowed to master a subject under the general supervision of a tutor. The report emphasized, however, that the work done during these years was not to be regarded as a "species of premature graduate work." Tutors were to bear in mind the objective in view, namely, liberal education. These provisions for the second two years were not very unusual. Several colleges, for example Swarthmore, were already requiring concentration on particular subjcts or problems during the junior and senior years in order to make undergraduate education more coherent. The provisions for the first two years were far more radical and comprised the main body of the report. As in Law 201, the first two years of common study were to be devoted to the study of the liberal arts and to the application of these arts to the reading of the great books. The reading list of the Virginia Plan, however, was much longer-many more mathematical and scientific classics were added-and the requirements were much more stringent. Students were expected to demonstrate a reading knowledge and competence in the grammar of two languages, one ancient and one modern, at the end of the first year. In addition, they were required to become proficient in mathematics, through calculus, by the end of their second year. Instruction was to include seminars (modeled after the Columbia Honours Course), formal lectures, tutorials, and laboratories. The lectJJres, to be given at 7 �The College tutorials, and laboratories. The lectures, to be given at least once a week, were to be expositions of the nature and history of the several liberal arts, with special attention to the ways in which these arts were practiced by the authors of the great books. Tutorials were intended to serve for formal drill and supervised practice during the difficult stages of the learning of languages and mathematics, for detailed criticism and discussion of student papers, and for more extensive discussion of the r..eminar rcr.\d.ings. The laboratory would enable the students to perfonn the "crucial experiments" in the history of science. There was to be a full time staff of instruction, distributed in their training and major interests to cover cJl the subject matters in the course of study. Students were to be selected by the instructors in the program from those applying to the larger college. "General intelligence," "'ability as shown by previous records" in secondary schools, and the instructors' judgment regarding the variety of complementary abilities and interests needed to make an efficient working group were the main critelia mentioned for selection. The students in the pmljram would be housed together and would dine together, and they were to be given special rooms for their studies and laboratory work. When the report was submitted, it received a rather unenthusiastic reception. President Aldennan who originally appointed the committee had died and the acting President, John L. Newcomb, was unwilling to undertake such a radical departure from the elective system. Other administrators were also hesitant. They foresaw difficulties in raising extra money for a new college within the old and anticipated much trouble persuading the various departments to compromise their interests in students or in subject matter. Finally, they agreed to accept the last two years of the plan-providing tutodal work for the better students-and to shelve the general education plan for the first two years. The plan for the first two years nevertheless survived, though it was ignored at Virginia. In a more fully worked out fonn, it eventually became the core of the "New Program" at St. John's College. The plan migrated to Annapolis along with Scott Buchanan and Stlingfellow Barr by way of the University of Chicago's Committee on the Liberal Arts. The Committee on the Liberal Arts In the Spring of 1936, Hutchins delivered the 8 Storrs lectures at Y aJe which were published as a book entil:lccl The lligher Learning in America. 'fhe book attracted several wealthy admirers sympat!1etic to his ideas about education. With funds donated by some of these people, Hutchins set up a committee called the Committee on the Liberal Arts to reco'1sidcr the cmTicula of the College and tile Division 0f the H11manities. He made the Committee directly responsible to che Dean of the Humanities, then Richard McKeon. The Dean, in turn, was to be the Committee's spokesman to the Unive;-sity faculty. Hutchins assumed that the financial independence of the Committee (it was to receive an annual allotment of $22,000) would insure its independence of the various dep,rrtments and divisions in the University. Scott Buchanan was invited to join the Committee, and on Buchanan's suggestion invitations were also issued to Stringfellow Barr and to two of Buchanan's graduate students, Catesby Taliaferro and Charles Wallis. In addition to the Virginia contingent (as they called themselves), Hutchins invited McKeon, Adler, Arthur Rubin, R.S. Crane, Norman Maclean, Clarence Faust and Prescott from the University of Chicago and three of McKeon's graduate students !rom Columbia Univero;ity, Paul Goodman, Plochman, and Barrett, to join the Committee. William Gorman and James Martin were invited to attend Committee meetings though they were not made members. The announcement ot the plan lor thrs Committee reactivated the "Chicago Fight". The fact that several of the proposed members of the Committee had faculty appointments at the University made it difficult to shelter the Committee as an independent body. Its financial independence made little difference. The faculty resented what they regarded as nepotism in the choice of members. There were independent insunections in the Humanities Division and in the College. McKeon was defeated in a Humanities Division meeting in which a motion was passed to ask the University Senate to instruct the President that henceforth he would have to consul.! with a whole division, not only a department or a department chairman, if he wanted to appoint anybody in that division. The College faculty passed a similar resolution. Adler wrote to Buchanan, "They see that what Bob is up to is a trick of getting men he wants appointed by hook or crook, and so by hook or crook they are going to stop him." Nevertheless, encouraged by Hutchins to believe that the Committee would be organized regardless of the opposition, the Virginia contmgent came to Chicago in the Fall of 1936. Scott Buchanan resigned from the University of Virginia; Stringfellow Barr, a �REPORT OF THE PRESIDENT TO THE BOARD OF VISITORS AND GOVERNORS 1972 1973 9 �REPORT OF THE PRESIDENT TO THE BOARD OF VISITORS AND GOVERNORS The close of the academic year 1972-1973 brought a change of instructional leadership on both thf campuses of St. John's College. William A. Darkey completed his term of five years as Dean at Santa Fe and now embarks upon a well deserved sabbatical leave. Robert A. Goldwin resigned the deanship in Annapolis as of March 31st to accept a post as Special Advisor to the United States Ambassador to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in Brussels. Each Dean contributed significantly in his own way to the ongoing intellectual life of the College, and I should like to record my deep gratitude to both for their periods of tireless, thoughtful, and imaginative service. Two ·Tutors filled the interregnum of three months on the Annapolis campus. Elliott Zuckerman became Acting Dean on April 1st but suffered a severe illness in May. At this time, J. Winfree Smith assumed the position until the end of June. Paul Newland, the Provost at Annapolis, commended both men for their performance, which he characterized as "far above and beyond the call of duty." The Provost also expressed gratification at the willingness of members of the Instruction Committee to take on additional responsibilities during this interim three-month period. The President also records thanks to Mr. Darkey for continuing as Acting Dean through the month of July so that the new Dean in Santa Fe might have a brief period of respite before undertaking the responsibilities and duties of his office. Curtis A. Wilson became Dean of St. John's College in Annapolis on July l, 1973, the first choice of the selection committee of Tutors. Mr. Wilson holds the Master's and Doctor's degrees from Columbia University in the History of Science. He joined the St. John's Faculty in 1948 and held the deanship from 1958 to 1962. In 1964 he was part of the initial cadre of Tutors who staffed the new Santa Fe campus. After two years, he accepted a professorship at the University of California in San 10 Diego for personal reasons. Mr. Wilson's return to the College is enthusiastically welcomed by all. It assures wise and firm academic leadership for the years ahead. At Santa Fe, Robert A. Neidorf succeeded Mr. Darkey in the Dean's office on August l, 1973. He relinquished the directorship of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education in order to do so. Mr. Neidorf's graduate work was in Philosophy at the University of Chicago and at Yale University. He holds a Master's degree from the former and a doctorate from the latter. Mr. Neidorf taught for two years on the Annapolis campus, then left in 1964 for a professorship at the State University of New York in Binghamton. After three years, he returned to St. John's and has been teaching at Santa Fe since 1967. Both Tutors and students share my confidence in his ability to discharge his new responsibilities with distinction. It is clear that both campuses will be in good hands as the new academic year begins this fall. Instruction Mr. Smith, Acting Dean, reports several interesting dev~lopments at Annapolis. Two Tutors, Alfred Mollin and Robert Williamson, .iwere authorized to prepare a. new text of Greek grammar to supplant the present text. The intent is to discover a better way to learn the Greek language than through the memorizing and brute rehearsing of paradigms. From a knowledge of personal endings and of the rules of euphony, the students will be enabled to construct for themselves most verb forms. Parts of the new text have already been put into use with marked success. A new anthology of readings is being prepared to accompany the grammar text and to provide a vocabulary for the reading of Plato's Me no. A new manual for the biology laboratory was prepared during the year by Nicholas Maistrellis and was subsequently approved by the Instruction Committee for me this coming year. A general review �October 1973 concepts emerging from these analyses of data from the numerous disciplines, and which will develop a pattern for use by others desirous of forming such a synthesizing program. and rethinking of the principles governing the laboratory program seems called for, so Howard Fisher will be relieved of part of his teaching assignment to devote time to this reexamination. Fin ally, the Instruction Committee recognized problems in the junior mathematics tutorial arising out of the fact that some students had already studied the calculus. Samuel Kutler was asked to undertake the writing of a calculus text which would seek to resolve this problem. When the full report on the preceptorial is completed, it will be. reviewed by the Instruction Committee to determine whether the program should be continued in 1974. · Graduate Preceptorial Liberal Arts Task Force On the Santa Fe campus, an innovation in instruction was the· trial graduate preceptorial conducted by Charles Bell. Three other Tutors were granted· released time each semester to join a small group of graduate students in the intensive work of the preceptolial. Study focused on two periods of historical transformation: 'hat of the late Medieval into the Renaissance, and that· which generated the revolutionary and romantic ferment around 1800. The preceptorial replaced specialized research with · broadly based reading of original lexts, coupled with an effort to synthesize them both philosophically and historically. The Director reports that an adequate room was "liberated" in Evans Science Laboratory and promptly dubbed "The Culture Lab;" Here, a general humanities reading room was created by drawing on the College Library and the personal libraries of the Director and other Tutors. There were available over 5,000 color slides, all recorded music from the pre-Bach period, texts in the original languages, and translations of both primary and secondary works essential to the study of Western thought and the arts. Participants found the J'receptorial both exciting and fruitful. In a special report, four graduate students urged that the initial experimental year be .expanded into a full-fledged graduate program. They wrote: Funding has been made available by the National Endowment for the Humanities for a promising new instructional venture on the Santa Fe campus. A task force in the liberal arts will be established during the coming year similar lO that at the University of Chicago in 1936-3·7. The overall purpose will be to examine intensively, but without immediate practical pressure. the role and nature of liberal education, from the perspective of 35 years. Not a "self-study" in the ordinary sense of the word, the project will aim at the intellectual improvement of the College. The re-examination will be a systematic free speculation about premises, methods, and materials. Emphasis will be on the unity of liberal .studies. Present investigative trends within the Faculty suggest that the focus might be on the relation of poetry and the language arts to those of the laboratory and mathematics. It seems that the College has been more successful in assimilating to one another philosophy, mathematics, and natural science than at including works of the poetic imagination in the unity. William Darkey has happily agreed to direct the task force. He will devote two months to travel and planning during his sabbatical year so that the principal work of the study can be undertaken during the academic year 1974-75. Working with Mr. Darkey will be Tutors from both campuses who have professional competence in at least one discipline and who have experienced, at St. John's teaching in several of them. Visiting scholars will be included in the endeavor. They will be. chosen for their general awareness of the essential undertaking and their ability to contribute some specialized knowledge. Each will be able to articulate the eleme·nts of his own discipline and to relate it to a unified study of the liberal arts. The College has high hopes for the success of this venture. For many years only a dream, the project now becomes a reality, thanks to the grant from the Nationa! Endowment. As we participating graduate students know from experience, there will long remain available a sufficient number of graduate institutes dedicated to the training of specialists within the various disciplines-specialists devoted to the analysis of the increasing data within those disciplines. What is absent at a time when it is increasingly needed is a graduate program that will perform the synthesis of the 11 �The College The Tutors The intellectual life of the College depends in large measure upon the calibre of the Tutors. The Annapolis Faculty has a larger number of faculty members with long years of teaching in the St. John's Program. Three-fifths of them hold tenure appointments. By contrast, less than half of the Tutors on the Santa Fe campus are tenured. Experience has shown that usually only one out of every three or four new appointees finally achieves tenure at the College. This would seem to reflect adversely on the sele~tion process for new appointments. Yet the Instruction Committee on both campuses devotes long hours to interviewing candidates, to examining credentials, and to arriving at the best possible decisions. The answer apparently lies elsewhere. It has become clear that ways and means must be found to orient new Tutors more effectively at Santa Fe. With a view to accomplishing this, the College included, as part of its application to the National Endowment for the Humanities, several proposals. Approval of the grant now means that all of them can be given effect over the next five years. First, money will be available so that ail new Tutors can be assigned only a two-thirds teaching load. This will enable these men and women to audit classes and to assimilate themselves more rapidly to the St. John's Program. Second, f4nds will be sufficient to provide released time for three of the most senior Tutors on the western campus to serve as archons for the newer Tutors in different subject matter areas. Third, it will be possible to •finance, through the grant, an exchange of Tutors each year between the two campuses. A more experienced Tutor from Annapolis may change places with a more junior Tutor from Santa Fe. Finally, to provide for the continuing intellectual growth of the Tutors, funds will be made available for establishing faculty study groups. These will provide a welcome measure of stimulation and, at the same time, will enable Tutors to explore areas that might subsequently be included in the curriculum. For the coming year, two new Tutors were appointed on the Annapolis campus: Leo Raditsa, who holds the Ph.D. degree from Columbia University in History, and C. Reed Woodhouse a Kenyon College graduate who studied at Keble College, Oxford. Robert S. Bart, John Sarkissian, David H. Stephenson, and James M. Tolbert return following sabbatical leave, while Louis N. Kurs, Hugh 12 P. McGrath, Robert L. Spaeth, and Deborah M. Traynor will be on sabbatical leave. Three other Tutors will be on leave-of-absence: Alvin N. Main, Robert A. Goldwin, and David H. Stephenson. The teaching appointments of Cecil H. Fox and Edwin E. Hopkins are completed. For the academic year commencing in September, the Annapolis Faculty will again number 53, including six part-time Tutors and the seven Tutors on leave. The Santa Fe Faculty experienced a large turnover at the end of June. Harvey L. Mead, lll, Michael K. Mechau, and George N. Stanciu were not granted tenure and left the College. Four other Tutors completed their appointments and left as well: John S. Chamberlin, Edward H. Porcella, Genevieve Townsend, and Lenke Vietorisz. Finally, Mrs. Caroline Richards resigned in order to accompany her husband on an assignment in Chile. For the coming year, Charles Bell and Roger Peterson will be on sabbatical leave, while Dean R. Haggard and Richard B. Stark have been granted leave-of-absence. Mr. Stark received grants from the National Endowment for the Humanities, the International Folk Art Foundation, and the Spanish Government for a year of scholarly study and research in Spain. It is good to report certain strong, mitigating factors whi\'h will work against any serious instabilities resulting from this turnover of faculty. Two senior Tutors return from sabbatical leave, Michael Ossorgin and John S. Steadman. Don B. Cook, who resigned a year ago to accept a position in the Santa Fe Preparatory School, returns to the Faculty. Thomas K. Simpson is transferring from the eastern campus to the western campus. Moreover, three of the new appointees are St. John's graduates who are thoroughly familiar with the College. These are: William H. Donahue, who has just completed his work for the Ph.D. degree in the Histoty of Science at King's College, Cambridge; James R. Mensch, who comes with the M.S.L. degree from the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies in Toronto; and Howard Zeidennan, who holds the Master's degree from Princeton University in Philosophy. Another new appointee, Bruce E. Venable, is a graduate of St. Mary's College, where he followed a curriculum quite similar to that of St. John's; The other new Tutors are: Lorna Green, who has the Ph.D. degree from Rockefeller University in Biology and is working toward a second Ph.D. in Philosophy at the University of Toronto; Richard L. Michaud, with a Ph.D. degree from the University of Vermont in Biology and teaching experience at �October 19 73 Webster College; Stephen R. Van Luchene, who has just received the Ph.D. degree from Notre Dame University in English; and Mrs. Lynne M. Hamilton, who holds the Ph.D, degree in English from the University of California, Santa Barbara, and. has had teaching experience there. Finally, Paul D. Mannick, who has completed three years as a Teaching Intern, has now been given a regular, first-year appointment to the Faculty. Patrick Hanson, a Teaching Intern last year, continues for a second and final year, teaching one class and supervising equipment and supplies in the physics laboratories. Mention should be made of an amendment to the College Polity whereby prospective Tutors may apply for and be granted a special first-year appointment and subsequent reappointments on a part-time basis. This legalizes a practice which the College has followed in a number of cases over recent years. Should such a Tutor desire to be considered for a regular appointment, he will be permitted to make application to the Instruction Committee, and part-time service already rendered to the College will be considered on a fractional basis toward eligibility for tenure and sabbatical leave. Note should also be taken of the increase in the scale of compensation for retired Tutors. Five such Tutors emeriti are now on the College's rolls: Ford K. Brown, Wiley Crawford, Simon Kaplan, Jacob Klein, and William K. Smith. John S. Kieffer embarks this year upon his fifth and final post-tenure appointment as a Tutor. The Students At the two Commencements in May, the College awarded its first two degrees summa cum laude to Mark D. Jordan, of Denton, Texas, and to David K. Allison, of Charlotte, North Carolina. This represented a change in the longstanding policy of the Faculty that the highest honor was to receive the Bachelor's degree magna cum laude. It was felt that the former policy might work to the disadvantage of the ablest students in their competition for places and stipends in graduate schools. The Faculty recalled the literal translation of the Latin words, "with highest praise," and affirmed the correctness of such an accolade for the two seniors this year. In all, 96 Bachelor's degrees were awarded, 63 in Annapolis and 33 in Santa Fe. Paul D. Mannick, of Los Angeles, California, was awarded the degree of Master of Arts. Three graduating seniors received Thomas J. Watson Foundation Fellowships: Mark D. Jordan at Santa Fe; and Prudence E. Davis of Whiting, Indiana, and Jan L. Huttner of Livingston, New Jersey, at Annapolis. Duane L. Peterson Scholarships, awarded to a junior on each campus for academic achievement, constructive membership in the college community, and commitment to postgraduate study, went this year to Nelson Lund, of Annapolis, Maryland, and to Alejandro Medina, of Gardena, California. It is noteworthy as well that Anne C. Ray, of Montclair, New Jersey, received a special award from the National Conference of Christians and Jews in New Mexico for her outstanding work as director of the Outreach program under a Title I federal grant. Enrollment reached a record figure of 37 5 on the eastern campus this spring, while the western campus began the year with 260 students and ended it with 246 enrolled. A January class was admitted on each campus, the first such class for Santa Fe. Dean Darkey has expressed some reservations about the plan, largely because of fatigue arising out of intensive work from January through the summer and into the fall of the sophomore year. He also believes that the group is too isolated, especially during the summer semester when very few undergraduates are on either campus. Finally, he notes the pedagogical disadvantage that there is no time available for corrective work should such be needed between the freshman and sophomore year. These observations will be considered by the Instruction Committee to determine whether there should be a change in policy. The following chart shows enrollment on each campus at the opening of the College in the fall and again at the end of the second semester in the spring. Annapolis Men May August Freshmen February Class 61 Sophomores 56 46 38 55 42 38 201 Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors 60 Totals Juniors Seniors Totals 56 Women August 67 May Total August May 128 49 23 32 62 9 50 21 31 105 69 70 118 20 105 63 69 202 171 173 373 375 48 32 20 12 42 5 29 20 12 108 39 25 24 53 9 31 21 24 71 45 36 95 14 60 41 36 148 138 112 108 260 246 II Santa Fe 13 �The College Students and their parents continue to find high fees a real obstacle to a St. John's education. The decision to hold fees steady in Santa Fe, while increasing those in Annapolis from $3,900 to $4,150, did not result in any great flow of students from the eastern to the western campus. It is significant that $226,207 in financial aid through grants and jobs was provided at Annapolis while the even larger sum of $261,654 was expended for this purpose at Santa Fe. Approximately half of all students enrolled received some form of aid. A student employment bureau at Santa Fe turned up jobs worth $9,000 in the community, and developed summer jobs worth $18,000. Elizabeth Goldwin, '74, will continue her good work in running this agency. Admissions Admissions applications for the fall of 1973 followed the downward national trend. As a result, the freshman class in Annapolis numbers only 105 while that in Santa Fe totals 92. It is hoped that this will prove to be a temporary phenomenon, since both Directors of Admissions are convinced that there are at least 500 high school graduating seniors each year· who would be strongly attracted to the St. John's Program. Greater effort will be made this year to enlist the help of alumni of the College and of the Graduate Institute in identifying and interesting able candidates for the Class of 1978. Comparative figures for 1971-72 and 1972-73 follow: Santa Fe Annapolis 1971-72 1972-73 Applications Approved Rejected' . · Withdrawn Deposits Received Enrolled 253 140 44 63 123 123 204 169 24 63 106 105 Catalogues Mailed . Visitors 3,117 319 1971-72 2,241 231 1972-73 257 60 90 107 108 167 136 23 54 89 90 5,118 4,443 177 151 175· The geographical distribution of the Class of 1977 appears in the chart below. (In each case the first figure is for the Annapolis campus, the second for Santa Fe.) Alabama Arizona California Colorado 3 1 Connecticut 5 14 5 22 9 Massachusetts Michigan Minneso·ta Mississippi Missouri 3 2 2 . I - ~ Pennsylvania Rhode Island: Tennessee Texas Virginia 9 I 2 - 12 12 Delaware Dist. of Col. 1 Florida Georgia Illinois s Indiana Iowa Kansas Maine Maryland 17 2 Montana Nevada New Hampshire 2 New Jersey 6 New Mexico Neyv York 13 North Dakota Ohio 4 5 Oregon I 3 3 Oklahom:o~ I 8 2 2 2 w.,h;ngton 2 Wisconsin W. Virginia Afghanistan B. West Indies England Italy Scotland Virgin Islands I 2 The Staff The Provost reports that the year has been most frustrating in many respects. The Annapolis campus suffered a grievous loss in the death of Margaret Lauck former secretary to the Dean, who had just ' been appointed Registrar of the College. Mrs. Lauek' s place was then taken by Mrs. Christiana White, who had been serving as Assistant Director of Development. This transfer, together with the resignation of Mrs. Christine Constantine, '72, graduate intern, aborted the reorganization of the Development Office. The denouement was the resignation of Russell Leavenworth as Director of Development in January. From that point on the Provost assumed personal direction of fund-raising and public relations, completing the year successfully, to his great credit For the corning year, the Development Office will be in the capable hands of William Dunham, whose appointment became effective August !st. Mr. Dunham is a graduate of Carleton College, who subsequently earned a Master's degree at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy. He served in the Foreign Service for two decades and then resigned to become Secretary of Carleton College, with responsibility for its total development program. After nine years, he resigned to join a college management and counseling firm in Washington, D.C. Both the Provost and I have high expectations for the office under Mr. Dunham's leadership. In other personnel changes for the past year, the Provost reports the appointments of Miss Janet Nelson, '72, as curator of the laboratories, replacing Thomas Casey, '71; of Mrs. Carolyn Logan, as secretary to the Provost, replacing Mrs. Barbard Field; of Randolph Campbell, '72, as manager of the Print Shop; of Mrs. Lynne. Calhoun as switchboard operator, replacing Mrs.· lone Moore; and of Mr.s. Nancy Blackburn as secretary to the Registrar m March, replacing Miss Susan Timmerman. For the corning year the Provost has appointed Ray A. Williamson as Assistant Dean, succeeding Geoffrey J. �October 1973 Comber, who returns to full-time teaching following a helpful stint in administrative service. At the request of the administrative staff, the Staff Council was created, to keep members better informed on changing college policies and to constitute a voice to administrative officers on matters of common concern. The Provost and the Treasurer state that the Council has fulfilled its purposes admirably. At Santa Fe a number of new appointments were made, severai of them incident to the change in the deanship. David Jones succeeded Robert Neidorf as director of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education on June 1. Miss Ellen Gant, secretary to Mr. Neidorf, moved with him to the dean's office arid simultaneously assumed new responsibilities as Registrar, succeeding Mrs. Joyce Ricketts. Mrs. Sue Boyter, former secretary to the Dean, was promoted to the position of director of student aid, since Mrs. Vivian Knight resigned from the College for maternity reasons. Mrs. Geneva Mantelli was appointed Executive Secretary to the President in October, following the resignation of Mrs. Geraldine Foster. One of the most important appointments on the western campus was that of Emery Jennings, who became business manager on May 1, succeeding James Carr. Mr; Jennings came to the College with extensive experience in college business management and financial matters, having served most recently as Treasurer and Acting President of Arapahoe Community' College in Colorado. Ralph J. Quintana was na;,ed Assistant Dean for 1973-7 4, succeeding Mr. Haggard, whci is to be commended for both his fairness and his firmness in dealing with students. Other personnel changes for the new year included the appointment of Mary Branham as Assistant to tlie President and Director of Public Information; the reappointment of Miss Beverly Ross as secretary of the Graduate Institute; the appointment of Mrs. Alice Roybal as cashier, replacing Mrs. Leila Summers; and the appointment of Mrs. Maria Lopez, replacing John Stroud in the machine room. In the library, Mrs. Ruth Haggard resigned because of illness in April and. was succeeded as director of reader services by Miss Tracy Kimball. Mrs. Leona Wright was promoted to be secretary to the Librarian in April, and Mrs. Julie Gaines became typist to the Assistant Librarian in May. For the coming year, a second cataloguer, John Des Rouchers, has been appointed, thanks to the grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. The Libraries Approximately 2,300 books were added to each library collection during the year under review. Miss Charlotte Fletcher, the Annapolis Librarian, reports the accession of 997 new titles, while 446 volumes were discarded from the collection. Miss Fletcher expresses concern over the five-year increase of some fifty percent in the price of books and urges a greater a!"iocation of funds for'book purchases in each annual budget. This becomes particularly crucial now that the College is no longer receiving the $5,000 annual grant under the Title II Prograin of the Federal Government. · At'.Santa Fe Mrs. Alice Whelan, the Librarian, reports a significant strengthening of the collection in sec.ondary material related to program authors other than the classic Greek and Roman, upon which the library concentrated last year. Work was begun on establishing conventional titles for literature, which will bring together. in one place for the user all editions, versions, and translations of a given work. Richard Stern, Santa.Fe author, continues to give notable leadership to the Library· Associates Committee. Through funds raised at the well-attended series of Book and Author Luncheons, the Committee presented the Library with: La Bible de Jerusalem. the Cambridge Bible Commentary on the New English Bible, the Encyclopaedia Judaica, selected correspondence of Michael Faraday, the works of Edward Gibbon, the Oxford edition of the works of Jane Austen, and the New York Edition of the works of Henry James. Dr. Rudolph Kieve gave a notable collection of Durer prints. And three fine collections of books were received from J. Burchenal Ault, Robert Kohler, and Dr.J oseph J. Jones. As this report is being written, the music collection is moving into its new quarters in the Sternberger-Weis Music and Fine Arts Center. The music library. there will have ample space for the regular and special collections, as well as six listening booths for phono-discs and phono-tapes. The Librarian reports that the Ellsworth Grumman Collection has been completely catalogued and work on the Amelia Elizabeth White Collection is well underway. Cataloguing of the Wilhelm Schmidt Collection will begin in the early fall. The Graduate Institute On August 17, 1973, the seventh session of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education came to an end with the fifth commencement exercises. A record 15 �The College number of 36 Master's degrees were awarded, bringing to Ill the total number of Institute graduates. This year's Masters came principally from Albuquerque, Baltimore, Chicago, New York, Santa Fe, and Washington, D.C., reflecting the success of the _generous Institute fellowship grants of the Astor Foun~ation, the Cafritz Foundation, the Hoffberger Foundation, the Holzman Foundation, the Henry Luce Foundation, and the Richardson Fund. Robert A. Neidorf and David C. Jones, outgoing and incoming directors of the Institute, join me in expressing the gratitude of the fellowship recipients and of the College to the trustees of each of these foundations. For the fourth and final year, a generous sustaining grant of $45,985 was received on a matching basis .from the National Endowment for the Humanities to support the Institute. This included modest funding for the second year of the high school workshop, the Holzman Foundation providing a matching amount. In the coming year, new underwriting of the Institute and the workshop wilL have to be discovered. Letters from both teachers. and students attest to the value of this annual summer program for the participants. In expressing gratitude to the College, one teacher wrote: "It has been a privilege to attend St. John's and learn und'er many master teachers. I emulate as many of their techniques as possible in the public schools." Another wrote: "I must say that I am very excited by what I have seen here. The experience appears to be changing the course of my life in a very subtle, a very beautiful way." The Alumni Thomas Parran, Jr., Director of Alumni Activities, reports successful involvement of the alumni in counselling seniors, both as to ·graduate schools and as to job opportunities. This appears to be one of the most significant ways .in which alumni can be of service to the College. A second area, .that of-student recruitment, is also of vital importance. It is hoped that more local chapters of the Alumni Associatkm can be established and that each of these will assume a measure of responsibility for interesting guidance counsellors and able prospective students in St. John's. With the exception of the New York chapter, which conducted three seminars and published a monthly newsletter, and with the exception of the Annapolis chapter, which held a monthly luncheon, little alumni chapter activity was 16 evidenced during the year. Perhaps this situation could be changed as the College explains its need for service from the alumni in both admissions and placement. At Homecoming in the fall, Bernard F. Gessner, '27, was elected President of the Association and William W. Simmons, '48, Executive Vice President. Alumni Awards of Merit were given to Miss Miriam Strange, for many years Registrar and now College Archivist, to Paul L. Banfield, '23, founder of the Landon School, and to Myron Wolbarsht, '50, Professor of Opthahrtology at Duke University Medical Center. In alumni elections to the Board of Visitors and Governors, Julius Rosenberg, '38, was re-eleGted for a three-year term, while Thomas E. Stern, '68, was elected to his first term, succeeding Mr. Wolbarsht. This affords the Santa Fe campus its first alumni representation on theBoard. Again this year the Alumni Annual Giving was a part of the 275th Anniversary Fund, the College's major fund-raising drive. Every annual gift counted toward the overall objective of $5 million for the Annapolis campus. In spite of some confusion on this score, the alumni on the Annapolis campus contributed almost exactly $100,000 during the fiscal year. Of this total $37,500 was unrestricted money in the annual giving campaign, $33,650 was for endowment, $I 7 ,I 00 for plant additions, and the balance for other purposes. The College records its thanks to eaclr of the I 47 King William Associates, to each of the 532 other donors, and to the many class captains, telephone volunteers, and committeemen. It was gratifying that the. annual giving exceeded the budgeted goal by several thousands of dollars. The Sternberger-Weis Music and F.'ine Arts Center Construe t.ion was completed in the early summer oh this latest addition to the physical plant in Santa Fe. Designed as a wing of the future library building, the new structure completes all the classroom facilities needed by the College. Most of the furnishings are either in place or on order, so the building will be in full use at the opening of the fall term. The main donor of the center is J~c Holzman, '52, a Visitor and Governor of the College, who gave $300,000 as a memorial to his grandparents, Estelle M. Sternberger and Rabbi J. Max Weis. A grant of $75,000 was helpfully provided by the Kresge Foundation of Detroit, Michigan, while a bequest from the late Flora Conrad of Santa Fe, a contribution of $15,000 from Mrs. Minnette �October 19 73 Holzman for furnishings, and several other gifts completed the financing of the building at approximately $412,000. A dedication ceremony is scheduled for October 13, 1973, to coincide with the next meeting of the Board in the Southwest. The Physical Plants At Santa Fe, noteworthy gifts enlarged the total area of the campus to 310 acres. Mr. and Mrs. John Gaw Meem gave twelve acres of land on the east side of Arroyo Chamisa, while Mr. and Mrs. LeRoy Manuel donated three acres to the north of Camino de Cruz Blanca. An additional nine acres were purchased from the Manuels, thanks to generous donations for the purpose by Mrs. Sallie Wagner and Dr. and Mrs. Edwin Cook, all of Santa Fe. Acquisition of the Manuel land assures an unobstructed view to the north from the College. Finally, Captain and Mrs. C.O. Ward of Santa Fe gave an additional ten acres of land off Old Santa Fe Trail, their third helpful gift of property to St. John's. At Annapolis, a number of campus improvements were made. The Junior Common Room in McDowell Hall was redesigned and new mail boxes were installed, thus greatly relieving the morning mail rush. The two music seminar rooms in the Key Memorial were further insulated and given wall-to-wall carpeting, with gratifying acoustical results. Additional lampposts were installed in the Woodward Hall-Chase-Stone House area, considerably enhancing securitv on campus. The campus has never looked better, thanks to the tireless labor of David W. Tucker, Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds, and his staff. The Treasurer, Charles T. Elzey, expresses two concerns: one as to the costly effect of the Williams-Steiger Occupational and Health Act of 1970 if fully invoked, and the other as to the physical condition of Paca-Carroll House, Randall Hall, and Iglehart Hall. All three will require extensive renovation to restore them to first"class condition. 'I must' express my disappointment that the Board decided not to undertake any major building program on the Annapolis campus at this time. While recognizing the financial hazards in adding more overhead costs to the annual budgets, I had thought that the timing was opportune to take a first major step to implement the I. M. Pei plan for campus development. This plan called for a new athletic center in the western corner of the campus, reconstruction of the present gymnasium as a dining facility, and conversion of the present dining hall and kitchen in Randall Hall into a two-story coffee shop. State legislative leaders had expressed interest in having the proposed St. John's Center designed in such a way that it would not only meet the College's athletic needs, but could serve as the scene for several major state functions each year. I hope that this project can be revived in the next year or so. Future California Campus Agnes, Andrew, and Herman Marks of Salinas, California, made a gift to the College this spring of their ranch, subject to life tenancy. This superb tract of rolling land, some 760 acres in area, lies in the hills west of Salinas about a quarter of the way to the Monterey Peninsula. By terms of the deed, St. John's College must use the land for construction of a campus within a twenty-year period. The Marks have agreed that part of the land could be leased to other educational institutions if not needed by St. John's. The earlier Marks fam:ily gift of some 20 acres above Point Lobos has now been deec!_ed to the State of California by the College. It is an exciting prospect to think that a third St. John's campus may well materialize on the west coast sometime in the next two decades. The necessary conditions would appear to be the cemjlletion of the physical plant and the establishment of a substantial endowment at Santa Fe. Once the Annapolis and Santa Fe campuses are securely underwritten for the future, the College will welcome the appearance of a venturesome donor, or donors, to make the California campus a reality. Meanwhile, I should like to record the appreciation of the College community to the Marks family for their far-sighted and generous philanthropy. Finances The Provost is gratified to report that gifts and grants of $255,090 for current purposes enabled the Annapolis campus to complete the fiscal yearwith a modest favorable balance of $2,940. The College's revenue rose from $I ,980,823 last year to $2,164,551 in the year under. review, At the same time, actual expenditures were $2,161,611, well within the budget figure of $2,192,508. For the coming year, a tentative budget of $2,216,405 has been adapted. This will necessitate raising $231,)55 in gifts and grants to achieve a balanced situation. The Santa Fe campus was not so fortunate. In 17 �The College spite of receiving the munificent sum of $715, 12!i in current gifts and grants, the College closed the year with a substantial deficit of $77,963. It is noteworthy that the western campus actually expended $1,939,790, some $13,000 less than the budgeted figure of $1,952,618. The loss incurred over the fiscal year was charged off against a m.odest reserve fund created by a major gift two and a half years ago. Unfortunately, this leaves only $58,322 in reserve for future operations. The tentative Santa Fe budget for 1973-74 calls for expenditures of $2,074,639, as compared to anticipated normal revenues of $1, i 94,321. This leaves $880,318 to be raised in gifts and grants, approximately $100,000 of which will be covered by the new grant from · the National Endowment for the Humanities. 2'75th Anniversary Fund As the second year of the 27 5th Anniversary Fund campaign ended, Victor Bloede, National Chairman, reported that $2,054,871 had been raised toward the $5,000,000 goal for Annapolis and $6,479,053 toward the $10,000,000 goal for Santa Fe. The most disappointing feature of the drive thus far has been the College's failure to attract more than two major gifts for endowment. The situation is particularly urgent on the western campus where the endowment funds total only $253,556, as compared with $8,699,979 at book value in Annapolis. It is hoped that the third and final year of the drive will result in substantial increments to the College's permanent funds on both campuses. In this connection, J. Burchenal Ault, the Vice President at Santa Fe, deserves special commendation for his painstaking work in creating the St. John's College Foundation Endowment Fund. This instrument, fully approved by the Internal Revenue Service, enables a private foundation to close itself out by gift to St. John's. The funds are then co-mingled for investment purposes with the College's endowment. By verbal agreement with the donor foundation, its wishes as to the application of annual income are given careful consideration for a specified period of years. A tthe end of that period, the College receives the full income earned, as well as the corpus of the fund. The first such gift was received this year, $50,717 from the Los Alamos Ranch School Fund. Endowment for the Humanities. The Foundation voted an outright grant of $388,150 and a supplementary conditional grant of $300,000. The latter will be paid over only if the Endowment receives gifts of half that sum by December 31, 1973. Needless to say, the Vice President and l will make every effort to qualify for the full amount of $688,150. The Endowment's grant will enable the Santa Fe campus to do a number of things which limited budgets have never permitted: released time for new and older tutors to improve the quality of instruction, a regular exchange of tutors between the two campuses, a more rapid rate of library acquisitions, and establishment of a task force in the liberal arts. I should like to record the College's gratitude to the Trustees of the National Endowment for the Humanities. Tutors and students alike anticipate great benefits from the grant. They .also conside• it tangible recognition by the Endowment of the College's accomplishments to date, as well as confidence in its future. The following charts summarize all gifts and grants received on the two campuses during the 1972-73 fiscal year, showing both their sources and their application. Gifts in kind of land, equipment, books, and art objects are not included in these figures. They would add an impressive total. Annapolis Santa Fe 9,526 1 693,302 3,464 99,458 4,140 29,335 135,014 18,682 24,919 15,6HO 3,534 1,483 5,357 198,234 221.814 14,201 ___ ,35',,695 $324,538 $1,189,300 $217,982 295 8,750 $' '543,205 8,173 38,575 84,941 '35,785 67,091 318,530 93,000 Donors $ Board Faculty, Staff Students National Committee Alumni Parents Frie.nds Foundations Corpora tio·ns Government Purposes Unrestricted Library Scholarships Graduate Institute Special Projects Endowment Plant Debt Repayment 28,063 52,246 17,202 $324,538 $1,189,300 In Memoriam Gifts and Grants The largest grant recorded during the year was the welcome five-year commitment from the National 18 It saddens me to record the deaths last December of two men who served with distinction and devotion on the Board of Visitors and Governors. �October 1973 Mark Van Doren and Bromwell Ault. Mr. Van Doren, poet, critic, and teacher, was a regular lecturer at St. John's College. He was an Honorary Fellow of the College and also Honorary Co-Chairman of the 275th Anniversary Fund. Mr. Ault, businessman, churchman, and philanthropist, had been Chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors and was an honorary member at the time of his death. It pleases me very much that his son, Burchenal Ault, Vice President of the College, has established the Bromwell Ault Scholarships on the Santa Fe campus in tribute to his father. The College has lost two great and loyal friends. They will be sorely missed. * * * Let me conclude on a personal note. First, I am pleased to report that the Governor of the State has seen fit to reappoint me for a second four-year term as Chairman of the Maryland Commission on the Capital City. Members of the Commission include the Lieutenant Governor, the President of the Senate, the Speaker of-the House, the State Senators from Anne Arundel County, the Director of State Planning, the County Executive, the Mayor of Annapolis, the Superintendent of the United States Naval Academy, and three other appointed citizens. The Commission is responsible for coordinating the plans for growth of the State, County, and City Governments, as well as the Naval Academy. We are also charged with preserving the distinctive character and atmosphere of Annapolis as the State's capital city. My role keeps me abreast of all developments which might affect St. John's College in any way. It also affords me excellent working relationships with officials of all the government agencies at the State, County, and City levels. Finally, I wish once again to thank each Board member for giving so unselfishly of his time, his energy, his counsel, and his substance in support of St. John's College. No college president has ever had a finer and more devoted Board to work with. I shall continue to sing your praises. Richard D. Weigle President Santa Fe, New Mexico August 31, 1973 19 �;l 0 "" " (') .." St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Comparative Balance Sheet, "July 1, 1972- June 30, 1973' 0 ii' ASSETS UABIUTIES AND FUND BALANCES 1973 1972 CURRENT FUNDS Unrestricted C~h Investments- at Cost ' 44,026 157 ' 67,264 157 5,094 8,747 16,769 Accounts Receivable Due from St. John's College Santa Fe 16,339 8,760 14,152 19,376 26,595 Other Receivables Deferred Expenses Bookstore Inventory 126,169 ' 130,380 c~ Investments- at Cost 7,014 840 278,230 286,084 Total Current Funds ' 412,253 ' ' ' Fund Balances 9,604 840 284,827 c~h Total Cunent Funds 425,651 13,011 731 ' $ 130,380 ' ' 286,084 ' 295,271 286,084 ' 295,271 s 412,253 $ 425,651 ' 159,191 15,585 ' 164,852 14,164 $ 174,776 !__ 179,016 230 56,279 31,487 14,590 LOAN FUNDS Federal Adv.ances for NDS Leans Fund Bal~ce s 126,169 23,583 295,271 LOAN FUNDS Student Loans Receivable· National Direct Student Loans 27,940 1,574 60,133 23,073 17,660 $ Restricted Due to Other Funds ' ' ' -- 29,113 Restricted Loans Receivable llnrestricted Accounts Payable Due to Other Funds Student Advance Deposits Deferred Income Reserve for Future Operations 1973 1972 CURRENT FUNDS 5,336 601 Total Loan Funds 173,079 161,034 ENDOWMENT FUNDS Total Loan Funds ' 174,776 $ 30,354 6,288 159,117 1,265,594 s 179,016 ENDOWMENT FUNDS c~ 79,354 7J6I,370 45,914 5,863 162,938 1,]7:!,594 94,330 40,620 7..307,839 $ 8,703,097 s 8,830,098 Friedland Student Loans Faculty Home Loans Santa Fe Campus Note Other Investment Cash Account Investments- at Cost Total Endowment Funds $ 1,0!0 PLANT FUNDS c~ lnvestmenta- at Cost Land and Campus lmpn;wement Buildings Equipment Lap.d and Iinprovemen t California Property ' 325 79,158 375,677 5,373,537 394,221 ' 75 919 375,677 5,516,154 394,221 -- 584,000 Total Plant Funds $ 6,222,918 $ 6,871,046 Total Funds $15,5!3,044 $16,305,811 Principal, Unrestricted as to Income Principal, Restricted as to Income ReseiVations of Profits- Sale of Securities Un~xpended Income lnvestmen 1 Funds Held for Santa Fe Campus Total Endowment Funds $ 7,530,057 972,207 $ 7,559,780 996,2!8 199,885 948 143,981 (211) -- 130,330 $ 8,703,097 $ 8,830,093 PLANT FUNDS Due to Other Funds Investment ln Plant Unexpended Plant Funds ' -6,143,435 79,483 ' 42,026 6,828,026 994 Total Plant Funds $ 6,222,918 $ 6,871,046 Total Funds $15,513,044 $!6,305,81] �St. John'sCollege Santa Fe, New Mexico Comparative Balance Sheet. July 1. 19T2- June 30, 1973 LIABILITIES AND FUND BALANCES I972 CURRENT FUNDS !973 ASSETS 1973 1972 CURRENT FUNDS Unrestricted Cash Investments- At Cost Accounts Receivable Prepaid Expenses Bookstore Inventory 38,480 16,340 11.747 5!,072 21,629 65.773 56.262 2.870 78.159 21.694 $ 139,268 $ 224,758 42.1:.2 174,388 234 5 Ll60 216.510 10,000 15,984 16,769 ]9.63! 75.987 897 _ _J8,32~ 139.268 51.394 355,77/1, Unrestricted Note Payable Accounts Payable Due to Annapolis Campus Due to Other Funds DefeneU Income Reserv~ for Future Operations $ 224,758 18,962 16,339 33,103 98.032 276.152 Restricted Fund Balances c~h Investments· At Cost Total Current Funds s 216.510 ---- ~ $ 216.510 Restricted 51,394 ~ -~76,152 -- $ 155,600 28,606 s 170,459 28,625 ---- s !84,206 $ LOAN FUNDS Total Current Funds Federal Advances for NOS Loans College Loan Fund Balance LOAN FUNDS c,;, 19,978 !.GOO 149,701 27.232 U73 12.740 1.000 144.064 26.402 United Student Aid Deposit National Direct Student Loans Other Student Loans Due from Current Fund Total Loan Funds Liability under Agreements Total Loan Funds s 184,206 $ Total Life Estate Funds s 207.125 s 207J25 ---- $ 202.950 ---$ 202,950 ---- ENDOWMENT FUNDS 125.876 1.428 252.128 !35,757 Investments- At Cost $ 202,950 $ 207,125 $ 202,950 END0Wfi.1ENT FUNDS Fund Balance Total Endowment Funds $ 135,757 s $ 135.757 $ 253,556 253,556 $ 253,556 9,881 c~ 5 207.125 199.084 ------------- Total Life Estate Funds LIFE EST ATE FUNDS Due from Other Funds I99,084 LIFE ESTATE FUNDS PLANT FUNDS Total Endowment Funds $ Note Payable $ 2.154 Loan Payable to Annapolis Campus Dormitory Bonds -Series 1964 Series 1966 Due to Other Funds Net Investment in Plant Unexpended Plant Funds 2,154 1,265,594 824,000 840,000 I87 .494 1,038 185,226 !54,479 314,024 5,403,448 472,567 116,969 9,625 119,244 !87,25 I 504,777 5,842,7i6 499,324 118,163 13,334 Total Plant Funds $6,647,75! $7,28!,160 Total Funds $7,530,617 $8,212,90: 154,479 1,172,594 810,000 825,000 184,354 3,932,592 !87,251 Total Plant Funds $6,647,751 $7,281,160 Total Funds PLANT FUNDS Cash Investments Bond Sinking Fund Investments Land and Campus Improvements Buildings Equipment and Furnishings Library Books Due from Current Funds S7,530,617 $8,212,902 ---- 3,187,766 ?? s r:r ~ <.0 ..... "" ..... "' �The College ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE Annapolis. Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico CONDENSED STATEMENTS OF REVENUE AND EXPENDITURES Fiscal Years Ended June 30, 1972 and 1973 SANTA FE ANNAPOLIS REVENUES 1971-1972* Educational and General Tuition Endowment Income Gifts and Grants Graduate Institute Grants State of Maryland Grants Miscellaneous Totals Student Financial Aid Auxiliary Enterprises Bookstore Dining Hall Dormatories Totals Total Revenues 1972-1973 1971-1972 1972-1973 $ 902,135 414,987 225,327 $1,027,309 419,357 217,135 $ 640,126 5,122 673,744 90,584 $ 756,446 7,166 550,134 112,682 23,500 25,099 $1,591,D48 22 ,500 43,733 $1,730,034 34,890 $1.,444,464 45,206 $1,471,634 89,079 $ 105,014 $ $ 45,324 $ 52,310 38,850 154,059 144,974 $ 337,883 $ 48,486 166,031 128,773 $ 343,290 $ 53,091 168,486 147,380 $ 368,957 $ 36,147 137.163 120,816 $ 294,126 $ $2,023,417 $2,204,005 $1.783,916 $1,861,827 $ 289,207 158,007 829,179 $ 290,397 168,280 900,038 19,194 343,618 $1,639,205 20,261 375,469 $1,751,445 $ 213.148 145,674 566,277 151,110 27.160 186.022 $1,289,391 $ 186,460 140,392 651,528 164,681 27,450 186,235 $1,356,746 $ 33,975 89,889 109,303 $ 233,167 $ $ 279,381 9,894 41,555 330,830 $1,939,790 EXPENDITURES Educational and General Administrative General Instruction Graduate Institute Student Activities Operation & Maintenance Totals Auxiliary Enterprises Bookstore $ Dining Hall Dormatories (Debt Service) Totals 49,550 148,950 $ 54,197 149,407 $ 198,500 $ 203,604 $ 196,748 $ 246,016 $ 196,748 $ 246,016 $ 189,348 16,369 52,295 $ 258,012 Total Expenditures $2,034,453 $2,201,065 $1,780,570 Excess Revenue or (Expenditures) $ 36,942 105,857 109,415 $ 252,214 Miscellaneous Student Financial Aid Federal Programs Capital Appropriations Totals (II ,036) $ 2,940 $ 3,346 $ *These figures differ slightly from the printed figures ill ·last year's Report of the President. which omitted current restricted funds. 22 (77 ,963) �ALUMNI MEMORIAL ENDOWMENTS' $ Granville Q. Adams, 1929 Charles Edward Athey, 1931 William C. Baxter, 1923 ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE Annapolis. Maryland PERMANENT ENDOWMENT FUNDS, June 30. 1973 A.E. Mellon Gift of Donor Foundation Matching-Gift $ 3I3.432 $ Total Fund Principal TUTORSHIP ENDOWMENTS' -- I ,989,953 I50,2I6 2,679,845 500,000 150.000 $2.453,60I Richard Hammond Elliott, 1917 Andrew E. Mellon Foundation Grants Addison E. Mullikin, 1895 Arthur de Talman Valk, 1906 5 3I3.432 2,679,845 2,489,953 300,216 $3.329 .H45 55,783.446 - SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS' I5,000 $ $ Annapolis Self Help 25 .ooo George M. Austin, 1908, Memorial 7,500 WalterS. Baird, 1930 3.070 Chicago Regional 8,672 Class of 1897 87,933 Class of 1898 I3.705 Dr. Charles Cook 135 Corp. George E. Cunniff,lll, 1930 35.429 Faculty 25,025 John T. Harrison, 1907 I50,250 Richard-H. Hodgson, 1906 42,787 Alfred HouSton, 1906, Student Aid 500 Houston Regional 36,000 Jesse H. Jones and Mary Gibbs Jones 36,648 Robert E. and Margaret Larsh Jones, !909 6,445 Arthur E. and Hilda Combs Landers, 1930 22,685 Massachusetts Rl!gional 30,262 Philip A. Myers, II, 1938 26,000 Oklahoma Regional 6,265 Thomas Parran. 1911, Memorial 560 Pittsburgh Regional I2,500 Readers Digest Foundation 7,056 C).ifton A. Roehle 3,58I Murray Joel Rosenberg Memorial Hazel Norris and 0. Gmham 3,664 Shannahan, 1908 3,668 Clarence Stryker 1,552 Frederick J. Von Schwerdtner 9,743 Richard D. Weigle N v.> $ 62I ,635 $ I5.000 25,000 5 3,070 -- -- I35 2.359 20.025 I50.250 2,500 500 36.000 --- - 22.685 9,000 26,000 560 ---- 3,664 7 ,ORI I.552 I7 .I 10 3,4I3 -7,367 323,864 30,000 50.000 7,500 6.I40 8,672 87.933 I3.705 270 37,788 45,050 300,500 45.287 I,OOO 72.000 36.648 6,445 45.370 39,262 52.000 6.265 I,I20 I2.500 7,056 3.58I $ 945.499 $ 249.983 $ $ ·- 125 625 1,000 1.100 6.425 25 600 Drew H. Beatty, 1903 125 Dr. William Brewer, 1823 855 Frederick W. Brune, 1874 2.638 Henry Duvall Chambers, !905 1,000 Henry M. Cooper, Jr., 1·934 58.683 Walter I. Dawkins, 1880 3)515 Robert r. Duer, Jr., 1921 1.135 In Honor of Dr. Philip Edwards, 1898 2.000 Joseph W. Fastner. Jr.. 1960 500 Allen Lester Fowler. 1915 I6.556 Edna G. and Roscoe E. Grove. 1910 40 Charles W. Hass, 1927 658 Dr. Amos F. Hutchins. 1906 !00 Clarence T. Johnson. 1909 !00 Clifford L. Juhnson, 191 I Helen B. Jones & Robert 0. Jones. 1916 I8.357 200 Jonathan D. Korshin, 1966 200 Oliver M. Korshin, 1963 Dr. W. Oscar LaMotte. 1902 5 .!40 J. H. E. Leg:g, 1921 23,223 I,020 William Lentz, \912 5,000 Leola B. and Thomas W. Ligon.l916 325 CoL Harrison McAlpine. 1909 James McClintock.l965, Prize Fund 466 Vincent W. McKay. 1946 20.800 Robert F. Maddox, 187 6 650 William L. Mayo. 1899 !2.2I9 Ridgley P. Melvin,l899 !00 Wm. S. Morsell, 1922. Athletic Fund 5.000 John Mullan. 1847 !0.000 5,533 Walter C. My lander. Jr .. 1932 H. Keith Neville.l905 I,OOO Dr. John Newstadt, 1939 I.I09 Blanchard Randall. 1874 85I 7(12 Susa.n Irene Roberts. 1966 Leroy T. Rohrer. 1903 IOO Harrison Sasscer, 1944 4.550 C. H. Schoff, 1889 500 Henry 1-". Sturdy. 1906 28.633 Rev. Fnoch. H. Thompson.l895 3.000 John T. Tu.:ker. 1914 2.500 Dr. Robert S.G. Welsh. 1913 125 Dr. \Villis H. \Vhitc, 1922 625 Amos W. W. \Voodcoek, 190} 2,000 1,100 6,425 25 800 250 I ,362 2.638 2,000 58.683 3,850 2,120 2.000 1.000 I6.556 40 I ,29I !00 100 25.920 200 200 5,140 23,223 2,040 5,000 650 466 20,800 650 12,2I9 200 IO,OOO 20,000 5,533 2.000 1,!09 I ,I81 702 200 4.550 I,OOO 28,633 6,000 2.500 250 I ,250 3,000 34.973 $ 284,956 $ - 200 125. 507 1.000 335 985 - 500 633 -- - 7,563 - - I.020 - 325 !00 5,000 IO.OOO I.OOO 330 IOO 500 3,000 0 " 0 ~ STUDENT LOAN rUND ENDOWMENTS' George Friedland John David Pyle, 1962, Memorial $ 23,660 5,589 $ 20,000 1,470 $ 43,660 7,059 $ 29.249 $ 21,470, $ 50,719 o" ... " ...., "' "' >-' �;l "' C'1 !l: OTHER ENDOWMENTS: Hertha S. and Jesse L. Adams $ 60,000 Concert Fund 355 Alumni Memorial Book Fund Charles Edward Stuart Barton 500 Memorial Library Fund 308 Philo Sherman Bennett Prize Fund 25,000 Benwood Foundation Library Fund 20,200 George A. Bingley Memorial Fund 5,770 Scott Buchanan Memorial Fund Helen C. and George Davidson, Jr., 1916 21,025 10,000 The Dunning Memorial Fund 3,000 Fund for Tomorro'w Lectureship 78 Floyd Hayden Prize Fund Joseph H. Hazen Foundation 1,000 Lectureship Fund Mary Safford· Hoogewerff Memorial 31,683 Library Fund Margaret Lauck Memorial Library Fund 789 Library Fund 560 Monterey Mackey Memorial Fund 600 Emily Boyce Mackubin Fund . ......... Ellen C. Murphy Memcr.iai Library Fund 1,500 Kate Moore Myers :.andscaping Fund 124,349 The Jack Wilen F< undation Library Fund 1,000 in Memory of Murray Joel Rosenberg Henry H. and Cora Dodson Sasscer Newspaper Fund 1,500 Adolph W. Schmidt Fund 15,628 Richard Scofield .lv.i.(;morial Fund I ,368 Mrs. Blair T. Scotts Memorial Prize Fund 518 Kathryn Mylroie Stevens Memorial 1,250 Prize Fund Charles Eddy & Eugene V. Thaw, I947 Lectureship Fund 15,900 Elma R. and Charles D. Todd Memorial Library Fund 19,500 Millard Tydings Prize Fund 1,000 Clara B. Weigle Memorial Library Fund I ,196 Daniel E. Weigle and Jessie N. Weigle Memorial Fund 2,500 Victor Zuckerdandl Memorial Fund 19,325 Alumni Endowment 206,326 General Endowment 526,724 - $ 60,000 - - 25,000 - - 3,000 25 $ 120,000 355 500 308 50,000 20,200 5,770 21,025 10,000 6,000 103 - 1,000 - 31,683 789 960 600 75,192 3,000 124,349 400 - -~ ,..;._~·- 1,500 - 1,500 15,628 1,368 518 - 1,250 - 15,900 I9,500 - -- SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS Helen and Everett Jones Fund Readers Digest Foundation Nina Otero Warren Memorial Fund General Scholarship Fund 39,000 I,OOO l,I96 186,309 - 2,500 19,325 392,635 526,724 $ 295,734 $ 60,000 10,000 1,875 4,537 $ 76,412 LIBRARY ENDOWMENTS. Emlen Davies Fund Angeline Eaton Memorial Fund Nina S. Garson Memorial Fund Duane L. Peterson Memorial Fund Victor Zuckerkandl Memorial Fund Memorial, Honor and Life Membership Funds 1,000 - ~ ~ SANTA FE ENDOWMENT FUNDS, JUNE 30, 1973 $ I ,118 1,150 2,000 800 1,000 31,171 $ 37,239 OTHER ENDOWMENT: Bromwell Ault, Sr., Memorial Fund Henry Austin Poetry Fund Fletcher Catron Memorial Fund Margo Dawn Gerber Prize Fund Elizabeth R. and Alvin C. Graves Memorial Fund Margaret Milliken Hatch Fu!J.d Frank Patania Memorial Fund Winfield Townley Scott Memorial Fund E. l. "Tommy" Thompson Memorial Fund Millard E. Tydings Prize Fund Clare B. Weigle Memorial Fund Jessie N. and Daniel E. Weigle Fund Other Funds $ I,037 5,500 1,300 I ,I41 8,881 35,000 3,341 2,535 I ,865 1,000 4,7I3 2,500 20,375 $1,49I,378 - $ 89,I88 $I,I95,644 Total Andrew W. Mellon Foundation Grants Reservation of Profits Sale of Securities $ 143,981 $ Total Endowment Principal $4,694,093 $4,005,886 FOUNDATION ENDOWMENT FUND: $4,005,886 Los Alamos Ranch School Fund - $ 143,981 $8,699,979 $ 50,717 Total Endowment Funds $253,556 �October 1973 bit more cautious by nature and less enthusiastic about the project, took a year's leave of absence. The Committee convened in O~tober. It included Buchanan, Barr, their two graduate students, Adler, Rubit•, McKeon, and McKeon's three students from Columbia. Because Buchanan was less controversial, having had little previous conn~Gtion with University affairs, and because he had agreed to become a pennanent member of the Committee, he was made the Director. He immediately encountered the persisting hostility first provoked when the Committee was proposed, and each attempt on Buchanan's part to clarify the status of the Committee only made matters worse. As Buchanan complait1ed to Hutchins, "The Committee must have an authorization of its status and function fitting to its single-minded end and aim. The possibility of a decision to stay depends on this and this alone ... 1 don't think there is any hope of getting the job done or even underway unless the Committee has orders from you that cannot be ~ountermanded or shaved down, or diverted by other academic powers and authorities." After the first few meetings, however, it became clear that there were problems internal to the Committee which equalled and in the end proved even more destructive than the external oneso The Committee reunited the New York threesome. They had seen e<.\Ch other during the intervening six years, and had sent each other manuscripts for comrnent and revision. Disagreement about the nature and interpretation of the arts had often arisen during these interchanges, but they had found the arguments fruitful and <c:<citing. The disagreements that now emerged, however, itad a less happy issue. Their differences became overwhelming; every decision became a struggle and every discussion a battle. Although they still shared a deep concern for and commitment to their project, they seemed capable of agreeing only on the importance of agreement. The first argument was about procedure. McKeon urged the Committee to approach the search for a curricu .. Jum by beginning with the problems of the modern university. Buchanan and Adler advocated the reading and discussion of a number of texts. The matter was put to a vote and McKeon was outvoted. They next disagreed about which text to read. Adler urged them to read something by St. Thomas. But they voted to read something by Aristotle. They then argued about which Aristotelian text to read. McKeon said he preferred "something weighty like Aristotle's Metaphysics or Analytics." Buchanan wanted to read Aristotle's Poetics and Physics. Each maintained that his choice better exemplified subject matter and method in the application of the liberal arts. They voted to read the Poetics and the Physics and to use the Oxford translations of these texts. Adler did not know Greek; McKeon and Buch&nan Jiad different degrees of competence. These differences provided fuel for the next conflagration. The next two meetings ended "not merely in explicit disagreement, but in passionate outrage, each at the other's distortion of the text." The disintegration of the group was progressive. After their first three meetings, they decided to arrange a tmce and to disband the Committee. Adler and McKeon met separately to discuss A1istotle and Aquinas. They encountered the same problems, and after two meetings, this endeavor was abandoned. Adler then decided to read and discuss the Physics with students at the University. McKeon, with his members of the Committee (Goodman, Banett, and Plochman) and with other people from the Division of the Humanities, established a research team. Barr, Buchanan, Rubin, Taliaferro, and Wallis reconstituted themselves as a separate group but retained the name of the Committee on the Liberal Arts. At the insistence of Dean McKeon, and with the advice of the Divisional Committee on Policy, Buchanan's Committee was removed from the Humanities Division and made advisory to President Hu tchi.ns. The Committee met semi-weekly and discnssed the texts on the Virginia list. Committee members wrote reports on the contributions of the various authors to the liberal arts. (It was in the course of preparing one of his reports for the Committee that Stringfellow Barr finally capitulated to the idea of the liberal arts. Barr was converted by his study of Euclid. "l who had thought, when l determined to join the Committee," that the mathematical material would offer the maximum difficulty (since l had no 'bent' for mathematics) found Euclid my principal guide." In the Spring of 1937, Barr officially resigned from the University of Virginia and cast his lot with the liberal artists.) The truce did not mean that they abandoned the battle. McKeon, Buchanan, and Adler each read more of Aristotle. When they met, it became clear that underlying their disagreements about translation were deeper philosophical differences. Buchanan explained their differences as follows: For Adler, Aristotle's Metaphysics was and has continued to be, as his friend 25 �The College Maritain has said in his Introduction to Philosophy, the revelation of truth to the natural intellect. McKeon and I would see in this the effect of the use of St. Thomas as a lens in the reading of the Oxford translation. For McKeon, Aristotle is the father of the sciences, and as such, he uncovered the categmies and formulated the methods for each subject-matter and discipline; there are different methods for different subject-matters and there is only confusion in finding common methods and subject-matters. Adler and I see a somewhat arbitrary postulation of the first principles of a history of thought in this position, I am fascinated by the dialectical processes by which Aiistotle arrives at his extraordinary insights, but I shall not be satisfied until! can master the dialectic and arrive at further insight that will throw more light on the modem problems, particularly in mathematics, that neither Adler nor McKeon thinks necessary. It is difficult at first to understand why these differences in philosophical position became so important and incapacitating. But, as Buchanan has pointed out, although "these philosophical positions ... are no more important than any other scholastic prejudices so familiar in the profession, ... in terms of the common task to find the intelligibilities that would make good teaching possible they all seem highly relevant and their incommensurability rather tragic." Although Adler, Buchanan and McKeon agreed on the nature of the problem to be resolved and on the necessity to restore the tradition of the liberal arts, they disagreed about what to study, about how to read, how to interpret, and how to teach the tradition. Each had acquired through his own learning and teaching his own attitude toward learning and his own method of philosophizing. To pursue their common goals, they had to go their separate ways. The Road to Annapolis Shortly after the Committee on the Liberal Arts disbanded, Scott Buchanan attended a conference at the Virginia Theological Seminary. Francis Miller, the Executive Secretary of the National Policy Committee, was also present. Buchanan and Miller had been Rhodes Scholars at Oxford together, and they 26 used their free time between sessions to become reacquainted. It was dming one of these betweensessions conversations that Miller told Buchanan about St. John's College. Miller had recently been persuaded to join the College's Board of Visitors and Govemors by his friend and associate at the National Policy Committee, Richard Cleveland (son of Grover Cleveland). The College was in a deep tangle of troubles, financial, intellectual, and moral. The crash of October, 1929 left the College with a debt under which it was still reeling. Three presidential administrations followed each other rapidly and unhappily. Debts increased. The College had lost its certification. The student body had diminished considerably. Both Miller and Cleveland were of the opinion that a new educational idea was the only thing that would save the College. They thought it would be wise to define the educational policy of the College first and make all later decisions in the light of that policy. Buchanan told Miller about the Virginia Plan and about what he and Barr had been doing on the Committee on the Liberal Arts. Miller was quickly convinced that Buchanan might have the idea St. John's College needed. After a series of long conversations and consultations with the rest of the Board of Visitors, consultations in which Buchanan and Barr and also Hutchins, Adler, and Rubin took an active part, Barr and Buchanan decided to move to Annapolis and to try to rehabilitate St. John's College in accordance with the general proposals of the Virginia Plan. In June of 193 7, the Board of Visitors appointed Stringfellow Barr President of the College. Scott Buchanan became the Dean and Head of Instruction. Catesby Taliaferro and Charles Wallis were given faculty appointments. Robert Hutchins joined the Board of Visitors and Mortimer Adler" was appointed Visiting Lecturer in the Liberal Arts. At last, the seeds of a College of the Liberal Arts and Great Books found fertile soil and rooted in Annapolis. This article was adapted for The College from the thrd chapter of Radical Conservatives for Liberal Education, an unpublished Ph.D. dissertation {The Johns Hopkins University, 1973). The dissertation traces the efforts of Mortimer Adler, Scott Buchanan, Richard McKeon, Robert Hutchins, and Stringfellow Barr to reform ·higher education in America by reviving and reconstructing the traditional liberal arts. Earlier chapters explore the beginnings of the Movement and its principles and ideals. Later chapters discuss the Hutchins College at the University of Chicago, the Great Books program for adult education, and the early years of the New Program at St. John's College. Amy Kass teaches in the Evening College at Johns Hopkins University. �October 1973 NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES LEO STRAUSS 1899-1973 Leo Strauss died in his sleep on October 18. The world of learning lost a seminal thinker in political philosophy and a great teacher; St. John's College lost an old friend and its first Scott Buchanan Distinguished ·Scholar in Residence. He had been with us in Annapolis since 1969. There will be more about his life and work in the next issue. DUNHAM NAMED DEVELOPMENT DIRECTOR William B. Dunham, a retired State Department .and Foreign Service officer, on August 1st assumed duties as director of development in Annapolis. There he will oversee the program of development, fund raising, alumni activities, and fund raising. Mr. Dunham came to St. John's from a position as senior consultant and member of the Washington, D.C. firm, Douglas Trout Associates, Inc., consultants in higher education. Prior to joining that firm, he served for nine years as vice president and secretary of Carleton College, Northfield, Minn. From 1943 to 1963, Mr. Dunham served in the Department of State and the Foreign Se1vice. His last tour of duty was at the Pentagon in Washington, where he was on the staff of General Cmiis E. LeMay, chief of staff of the Air Force. This was a special assignment under the first State/Defense exchange prqgram. For five years prior to this special assignment, Mr. Dunham had been first secretary and chief of the political section of the American Embassy, The Hague, Netherlands. He also served as chief of Swiss-Benelux Affairs; assistant chief of French-Iberian Affairs; and senior desk officer for Spain and Portugal, where he was responsible for all aspects of U.S. relations with the two countries from 1947 to 1953. For his outstanding work Mr. Dunham received the Department of State's Meritorious Service Award and the Department of the Air Force's Excepti>mal Service Award. A graduate of Carleton College, Mr. Dunham also attended the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy in Medford, Mass., where he was awarded the M.A. degree in 1943. Mr. Dunham is married to a professional pianist and teacher, and he and his wife have a daughter, three sons, and two grandchildren. EXHIBIT OF AMERICAN DRAWINGS IN SANTA FE An exhibit entitled "Twentieth Century American Drawings" was featured in the Peterson Student Center in Santa Fe from September 9th through October 7th. Organized by the University of Utah Museum of Fine Arts, the exhibit consisted of sixty-six drawings by several dozen artists. The works are from the collection. of Mr. Edward Jacobson of Phoenix, Ariz. Mr. Jacobson, a member of a prominent Phoenix law firm, has been collecting all his life, and is widely known as a discerning collector and patron. Artists represented in the collection include: Childe Hassam, Alexander Calder, Walt Kuhn, Peter Hurd, Hyman Bloom, Robert Henri, Peter Max, Gaston Lachaise, Fritz Scholder, Leonard Baskin, Philip Pearlstein, Paolo Soleri, lsamu Noguchi, Larry Rivers, Phillip Guston, and Paul Jenkins. 27 �The College English from Kenyon College. He has been studying under a fellowship at Keble College, Oxford University, toward a second bachelor's degree. In other changes, David E. Wilkinson, recently retired from the U.S. Army, has been appointed assistant business manager. James E. Grant, business manager, will be on leave of absence this year to complete requirements for his degree in accounting at the University of Baltimore. Grant, a former student at Gettysburg College, has been attending night school for the past five years. DANFORTH FELLOWSHIPS The 1973 graduating class of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education. Smaller representations carne SUMMER INSTITUTE from Washington, D.C.: Mary Alice GRADUATES FIFTH CLASS The Graduate Institute in Liberal Education, in its seventh summer session, had an enrollment of 134, and awarded the degree of Master of Arts to 36 students from eight states, the District of Columbia, and Canada. Members of this year's graduating class, the fifth since the Institute was started in 1967, included: from New Mexico: Kenneth A. Betzen, David F. Gonzales, Lee Hirst, Mary E. Lane, Mary F. Magnuson, Sue Martin, Jan Mecagni, and Ann Yeck. From Maryland: June B. Chapman, Dawn G. DeForrest, Virginia Frommoethelydo, William J. Jenkins, Alice B. Morgan, Gwendolyn R. Morgan, and Paul N. Smith. From California: Ralph C. Cox, Sister Sharon Cox, James Farley, Dalton M. Fogle, Robert D. Graun, James A. Mahoney, and Jack L. Nolen. 28 Brooks, Constance B. Liser, and Thelma E. Robinson; from Illinois: Norma Cotton, Raissa Landor, and Elizabeth R. Shaw; from New York: Yvonne M. Davis, Sylvia R. Green, and Mozell Morris; and from Virginia: Frazier L. O'Leary and George Schloss. From Texas carne Joe B. Brooks, from Colorado Diana W. Kinsey, and one graduate, Mary Jean Bell, carne from Canada. FACULTY AND STAFF CHANGES IN ANNAPOLIS Two new tutors are teaching in Annapolis this year, Leo F. Raditsa and C. Reed Woodhouse. The appointment of Mr. Raditsa, a 1956 graduate of Harvard and holder of both M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from Columbia, was announced in the April issue. Mr. Woodhouse is a 1970 summa cum laude graduate in The Danforth Foundation recently announced the tenth annual competition for its Graduate Fellowships for Women. The objective of the program is to find and develop college and secondary school teachers among American women whose preparation for teaching has been postponed or interrupted for a continuous period of at least three years. In general, the Fellowships are intended for women who no longer qualify for more conventional fellowship programs or whose candidacy in such programs might be given low priority. , Thirty-five new Fellowships may be awarded each year, and are renewable annually provided certain criteria are met. The appointments are available to women who hold bachelor's degrees from accredited colleges and universities in the United States. There are no upper or lower age limits. Recipients are expected to undertake full-time teaching upon completion of their degrees. Among the criteria for selection are: (I) a strong undergraduate record; (2) evidence that the candidate's intellectual curiosity and �October 1973 vitality have smvived her years of separation from an academic environment; (3) an .indication of strong motivation for graduate work and for teaching. For more complete information write: Director Graduate Fellowships for Women Danforth Foundation 222 South Central Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63105 LUCE SCHOLARS St. John's College is among sixty educational institutions chosen to participate in the new Luce Scholars Program, sponsored by the Henry Luce Foundation, Inc., to select a group of young Americans for a year of study, work and travel in Asia. "The goal of the program is not to produce Asian specialists," J. Burchenal Ault, St. John's Vice President, emphasized in announcing the College's participation, "but rather to develop future citizen leaders who will have an awareness and an understanding of Asia." Scholars are to be selected from among nominations submitted to the Luce Foundation by cooperating colleges and universities. Independent applications will not be accepted. Candidates must be between the ages of 21 and 30, have earned at least a bachelor's degree, and have given evidence of outstanding leadership ability. St. John's will be allowed to submit a total of four candidates from among graduating seniors or recent graduates on both the Santa Fe and Annapolis campuses. Deadline for nomination is the first of December. Finalists will be called before one of three regional screening panels early in March of 1974, The Sternberger-Weis Music and Fine Arts Building was dedicated on October 13 at the quarterly meeting of the Board of Visitors and Governors. Largely the gift of an alumnus and Board member, Jac Holzman '52, the building is named for his grandparents. Martha Wallace, Vice President and Executive Director of the Luce Foundation, says. In the fall the fifteen young men and women named as Luce Scholars will leave to work in law offices, universities, hospitals, banks, and a variety of other situations under the guidance of Asian mentors. The Foundation believes that by getting to know their Asian contemporaries and colleagues in their own setting the Scholars will gain an intuitive idea of what it is like to live and function outside the context of Western traditions. Henry Luce III, President of the Foundation, stresses the uniqueness of the program in that it will exclude Asian specialists or international affairs experts in favor of young people whose leadership potential is in other fields. The purpose of sending Scholars to the East, Mr. Luce notes, is "to imbue a greater number of Americans of leadership potential with a firsthand familiarity of Asia at a flexible and formative time in their careers." The Henry Luce Foundation, Inc. was established in 1963 by the late Henry R. Luce as a tribute to his father who spent many years teaching at Christian colleges in the Far East. Mr. Luce was co-founderi and editor-in-chief of Time Inc., which publishes TIME, FORTUNE, SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, and MONEY. Since Mr. Luce's death in 1967, the Foundation has gran ted close to $12 million to specific projects in the" fields of higher education, theology and public affairs. St. John's receives $60,000 annually for Collegiate Fellowships in the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education conducted in the summers in Santa Fe. This year 12 teachers in predominantly black colleges are the recipients of Luce Collegiate Fellowships. 29 �The College ALUMNI ACTIVITIES ALUMNI BOARD REPRESENTATIVES one candidate for each of the two vacancies. Names, biographical data, and, where available, pictures of the candidates will be published in January. Alumni interested in starting petitions are reminded that, in the wol'ds of the Polity: "Persons shall be eligible for membership on the Board . . . who are concerned for the maintenance, progress, and vitality of the St. John's educational program and who are willing and able to discharge the responsibilities of trusteeship with devotion and energy." As a practical matter, Board members must also have the time and money to attend four meetings each year, usually in September, December, February, and May, either in Annapolis or Santa Fe. Philip I. Bowman '31 and W. Bernard Fleischmann '50 will complete two consecutive terms as Alumni Representatives on the Board of the College . next May. According to the Polity of the College, these alumni are not eligible for re-election. Therefore, in accordance with the By-Laws of the Alumni Association, I hereby notify all Alumni that nominations · by petition are invited for representatives to replace Messrs. Bowman and Fleischmann. Signatures of at least 30 members of the Association are required for validation, and consent of persons nominated must be obtained before a petition is subThomas Parran, Jr. mitted. All nominations by petition Director of Alumni Activities must reach the Alumni Office in Annapolis no IJJter than December I st. ALUMNI KITH AND KIN As also provided by the ByThe class of 1977, which enLaws, the Board of DirectorS of the Association will nominate at least tered St. John's last month, in- ALUMNI GIVING AGAIN SETS RECORDS Once again, for the fifth consecutive year, the Alumni Fund (Alumni Annual Giving) has exceeded its· goal of gifts for current operations. In the year which ended June 30th, alumni gave $ :n, 4 !II toward a goal of $35,000; as one considers the escalating cost of living and general economic uncertainty of the times, this record is quite commendable. Until a more detailed report is published, here 30 eludes an. unusual number of relatives of alumni or present students. Those related to present students are Kenneth Demac (sister Donna '74), Eric Heylman (brother Paul '74), and Steven Ross (sister Debbie '74). Steven was also a student of William Dunkum '64 (see Class Notes for more on Bifl). The following are brothers or sisters of alumni: Janet Hellner (sister Maureen '68), Susan Hollander (sister Maureen '69), and Edward Nelson (sister Janet '72 and brother Chris SF70); Ed has an additional St. John's connection: his father Charles is a graduate in the class of 1945. In addition, there are three freshmen who have alumni parents: Erica Lerner, daughter of Charles Lerner '53; Michael O'Mahony, son of Thomas and Marcia (Del plain) O'Mahony, both '57; and Robin Streett, daughter of the Reverend David C. Streett '50. Freshman Jody Nesheim's relationship to the College is through her uncle, Wayne Brandow of the class of 1965. are a few key statistics to compare 1972-73 with 1971-72: 1971-72 Percent response Alumni responding Average gift King William ASsociates Classes giving $~00 or more Classes giving $1 ,000 or more Alu111ni giving $250 or more 1972-73 28.2% 835 $39 117 23 3 13 25% 779 $48 147 31 10 24 �October 19 73 CLASS NOTES 1923 Fred C. Stecker writes that he has heard from Jim McGraw, Bob Miller, TB. Klakring, and Hobo Ridgely, and they are all doing well. Fred says that raising beef cattle as a "retirement hobby" is proving very interesting. 1933 Charles H. Schauer, executive vice president of Research Corporation, was awarded an honorary doctor of science degree from Southwestern University at Memphis. Mr. Schauer was honored for his life-long efforts to advance scientific research and the practical application of new technology. Research Corporation is a foundation for the advancement of science. 1934 Gust Skordas, assistant archivist of the State of Maryland since 1941, was honored with a retirement dinner on July 30th, to celebrate the end of a 36-year career at the Hall of Records. Gust plans to visit with his son in the San Diego area, and hinted recently that he might even decide to settle there. 1936 W. Robert Miller, community information speciallst with the Baltimore Area Council on Alcoholism, in July assumed new duties as coordinator of the new BACA-Hopkins program to rehabilitate and retain problem drinkers on the job. Bob was formerly a branch manager for Diebold, Inc. After 35 years of surgical practice, Dr. Richard T. Williams is retiring aboard his "Round The World" sloop, while M.D. sons Robert and Randolph take over his work. Dick also writes that son Richard is with IBM, Rodney with Connecticut Mutual Life, and Roderick is attending the State University of New York. 1941 George L. McDowell is now regional service manager for Allied-Kelite Products Division of the Richardson Chemical Company. He and Rocky have lived in Summit, N.J., since last winter. 1949 After 20 years in the Episcopal ministry, six and one-half of them with the Shoshones on Wyoming's Wind River Reservation, Frederick P. Davis is now rector of a small parish in Mountain Home, Idaho. He is located some 45 miles southeast of Boise, between the Sawtooth Range and the Snake River valley. Fred, his wife Rita (sister of Gust Skordas '34) and son David, 14, are enjoying their new life. Attention, all you '49ers! Allan Hoffman and Jake Brooks are already planning your 25th reunion next fall. The 20th was so successful that we are looking forward to '74; make your plans now. Nancy (Eagle} Lindley wrote during the late spring that she had almost completed her work for a master's degree in music from West Virginia University. Husband Mark 167 has assembled enough credits to continue in graduate school. Barbara (Hager) Palmer has become director of the Community Child Development Center in Denton, Md. Barbara writes she is not certain that Greek grammar will help, but believes that Voltaire's philosophy surely will, as she directs "a day-care facility with a cognitive approach to pre-school learning." 1961 Michael C Haley earlier in the spring was designated a certified commercial-investment member of the National Institute of Real Estate Brokers. Mike is 1950 with the Albuquerque firm of Roger Cox Tylden W. Streett informs us that & Associates. he has resigned as dean of graduate "Healthfully recovered" from his studies at the Maryland Institute, College April, 1972, heart attack, David of Art, in Baltimore to devote more time Rosenfield writes that his carpentry to his primary career as a sculptor. He is business prospers. He is very active in a now busy with commissions for architec- research project in interspecies comtural and portrait sculpture; any orders? munication, through the World Dolphin Foundation. 1952 Apparently the Federal Trade Commission will not let Ha"ison J. Sheppard For the past three years George settle down. Last January he was transUdel has been running his own film- ferred from the Seattle Regional Office to making company, G2 Creative Services, Washington, D.C., and at the end of July Inc., in Baltimore, turning out everything he went back across country to become from instructional films to social assistant director of the San Francisco commentary. Regional Office of the FTC. 1958 Jacques Cartier assumed new duties as producing director of Baltimore's Center Stage on July 16th, in a move which the Board of Directors hopes will lead the group to first rank among regional theaters in this country. Jacques was founder, producer, and artistic director of the Hartford (Conn.) Stage Company between 1963 and 1968. Another non-graduate alurrma who completed her college work elsewhere is Marigene (Boyd) Hedges, who received her B.A. degree in mathematics in 1964 from the University of Denver. Marigene, her husband, a high school teacher 'in Denver, their son, 14, and daughters 12 and 8, live in Littleton. Marigene is active in the League of Women Voters, and currently works as a part-time office assistant for the Denver and Colorado Leagues. 1962 After six years as an instructor- in the philosophy department of the State University of New York at Stony Brook, David W. Benfield has accepted an appointment as an assistant professor of philosophy in the School of Humanities at Montclair (N.J.) State College. David has received M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from Brown University. Raymond C. Seitz writes to tell of the Ph.D. degree he received from The Johns Hopkins University last November, and of his appointment as assistant professor of physical Oceanography at the State University Maritime College, Bronx, N.Y. Ray also tells us that his former wife. Gail (Evans) Seitz, and their son Raymond are living on a farm in Wisconsin. 31 �The College 1963 Marcia Herman-Giddens tells us that husband Scott '64 teaches computer science and does computer- oriented research in cardiology at Duke University. She helps run a small "free" school and she, Scott, and their three children plan to move soon to a small farm near Chapel Hill. 1964 Poughkeepsie, N.Y. Chris has started graduate work in business administration at Union College, is teaching a computer programming course, and is writing programs for study in mathematics. 1967 We wish the very best of good fortune to, and shall follow with more than ordinary interest, NBC's new Friday night television series "Needles and Pins." It happens to co-star our very own Deirdre Lenihan, along with Louis Nye and Norman Fell. Deirdre is fittingly cast as a dress designer, having studied that work at New York's Fashion Institute of Technology, and later worked in the costume department of the New York Shakespeare Festival. Remember 9 p.m. on Friday night, NBC-TV. In May, William W. Dunkum was one of several teachers of mathematics and science in the metropolitan Washington, D.C., area honored by the Joint Board on Science Education. One of our new Communicards came back from Saigon, where James P. Nach is second secretary of the American Embassy, assigned to the political section. 1968 Jim is in his fourth year in Saigon, and recently was assigned to Haiphong, North In July William R. and Rebecca Vietnam, helping supervise removal of the mines from the harbor. He will complete (McClure) Albury and offspring moved to his Far East tour in February, 1974, and Australia, where Randy has taken a position as lecturer in the history and anticipates assignment to Washington. philosophy of science at the University of New South Wales, in Kensington. 1965 John Fanner writes that he is in his Scheherazade (Friestedt) Smith second year of medical school at the writes that she is a graduate student at Philadelphia College of Osteopathic the University of Arkansas. Medicine, is doing research on vitamin A, Michael Woolsey this past June and is making an index for a neuroreceived a Master of Arts in Teaching anatomy textbook. degree from the College of St. Thomas, Blaine Garson has just received M.S. but will probably continue his present degrees in speech pathology and audiemployment as a computer progrannner ology-"at last," she says-and is working until prospects for finding teaching on certification as a dance therapist. She positions brighten. has a "lovely 16 month old son Jonas," and loves "being educated all over again 1966 by him." _Another degree recipient is Sarah Mark B. Bromberg has received a (Braddbck) Westrick, who was awarded a Ph.D. degree in physiology and biophysics, although we do not know from B.A. degree in June from Ursinus, with a what institution. His dissertation was en- major in English literature and a minor in titled "The Organization of PAD history. She is now considering graduate Produced by Peripheral and Central school in library science. Husband Inputs to the Cuneate Nucleus and A Da"el/, better known as Boris, is still Classification of Cutaneous Forelimb with UNlV AC. Receptors." 1969 One of our newer lawyer alunmi is Richard F. Fielding. Dick received his Ia w James F. Bartram, Jr., last year degree in June, from the University of received a B.A. degree in musical instruChicago, where he was Comment Editor ment making from the University of the Law Review. Without Walls at Roger Williams College Christopher Hodgkin is still (R.I.). He has been married almost two working as business manager of Oakwood years, and is in business for himself, School, a Quaker secondary school in manufacturing Renaissance flutes and 32 recorders. Mariam (Cunningham) Cohen wrote in August that she was in the throes of filling out medical school applications; we wish her luck. Andrew Gamson spent the summer teaching in a teachers' workshop in Greenwich, Conn., the Open Education Workshop of the NAIS. He will be teaching at the Key School in Annapolis for at least another year. Mariel/e Mikah Hammett and Kenneth L. Kronberg (SF68) were married on June 30th in New York City. Mark Mandel writes that he received his B.A. degree in linguistics from the City College of the City University of New York. He spent the late spring as coordinator of the Summer Latiil Course of the College's Institute for Medieval and Renaissance Studies. After a sununer in Europe, he and his wife, Rene, will move to Berkeley, where she will enter the Ph.D. program in English. John H. Strange (SF) received the Master of Divinity degree in May from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, and was ordained in the First Presbyterian Church in Taft, Texas, on July 8th. John and his wife Camille are enjoying living in Taft, a rural suburb of Corpus Christi. Another Santa Fe alumnus, Joseph Tooley, is a graduate student in school psychology at North Carolina State University. He worked in a clinic for the blind last year, directed a summer program for deaf-blind children, and will work in a school for the deaf this year. 1970 We welcome new traditions, especially those such as our annual John Deai1 letter, this time from Budapest, on a side trip from a summer in Munich. John visited at graduation time in Annapolis, so we knew he was headed for two or three years at the University of London, writing a Ph.D. dissertation on Shakespeare. In May he received his M.A. degree in comparative literature with distinction from the University of Massachusetts. We were greatly pleased to hear from Joseph D. Hines, a Graduate Institute alumnus, that he received his Certificate in Advanced Study in Education in May from The Johns Hopkins �October 1973 University. He is now qualified as a guidance counselor. Cole Kitchen is preparing for his comprehensive examinations this fall, enroute to an eventual Ph.D. degree in applied mathematics (operations research) at the Hopkins. His fellowship has been renewed for the 1973-74 academic year. T.K. (Thomas) Nelson (SF) writes that husband Chris (SF) is now with the Chicago law firm of Shiff-Hardin & Waite. T.K., Chris, Tollof, age three and onehalf, and Gunnar Matthew, born May 28th, make their home in Wilmette. Thomas Rie in May received an M.S. degree in elementary education from Morgan State College in Baltimore. He worked in a clothing factory for the past two and one-half years, while Jinna (MacLaurin) '68 taught elementary school. The RICs now live in a farmhouse outside of Dunseith, N.D., where Tom will teach grades five and six; Jinna now awaits the birth of their first child in October. Another graduate school-bound alumnus is Mark Sittler, who will start work toward an M.A. degree in German at the University of Arizona this fall. Mark has a graduate assistantship in the German Department. 1971 JohnS. Bellamy II is another of our alumni who has completed his undergraduate education elsewhere, in this case Goddard College in Vermont. He and Elizabeth Barrett, married in June, are now in Charlottesville, Va., where John is working on an M.A. degree in history at the University. We were happy to hear again from Shire Chafkin, whom we had "lost" for more than a year. He has received an M.B.A. degree from Harvard, and is marketing manager for Tri-Chem, Inc., Belleville, N.J. Deborah (Jenkins) Dumeyer graduated from Salisbury (Md.) State College in May, and is teaching first grade in the Wicomico County schools this year. Stephen R. Deluca (SF) and family are now in Blacksburg, Va., where he is working toward a Ph.D. degree in clinical psychology at Virginia Polytechnic Institute. His wife, Twyla (Fort) (SF) plans August brought us a most interesting note from Jose Caminero, afomzer member of the Class of 1914. Senor Caminero has been an engineer, a journalist, a writer, and ambassador of his native Cuba to Nicaragua, Colombia, and Peru. A resident of the United States since 1959, this distinguished alumnus now makes his home in West New York, N.J. We thought you might enjoy the pictures which Senor Caminero so graciously sent us; the photograph on the right was taken this year, the one on the left 60 years earlier. to begin studies in soCial work, while home in Maiori. Amethyst (age three) has been attending Christine (Ferrarini) Constantine Montessori school and "loving it." 'phoned in August to report a move to V. Michael Victoroffhas had a busy Newton, Mass., so that Hank '70 can summer. He spent some time early in the commence studies in political science at summer doing an elective in drug abuse at Boston College. the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic in San Francisco. He and Joan Mooring '69 did some rock climbing in Yosemite National Park, and then were off to Venezuela for IN MEMORIAM a session of scuba diving. By now Mike should be back at Baylor College of Medicine for his third year. 1912 - Frederick L. Baillere, Tulsa, 1972 Helen Anastaplo has completed her first year at the University of Chicago Law School, where Bart Lee '68 was her writing program tutor. After a two and one-half year sojourn in Rome, David H. Carey was in this country visiting friends and family this summer. He is now back in Rome at North American College in the Vatican State, continuing preparation for Holy Orders; he anticipates ordination as a deacon next May. David visited Tutor RobertS. Bart '57 at the latter's summer Okla., July, 1973. 1912 - Raymond E. Staley, Little Rock, Ark., June, 1973. 1920- Earl R. Custis, Suffolk, Va., July 14, 1973. 1922 - Harrison M. Baldwin, Baltimore, Md. June 16, 1973. 1924 - Joseph E. Coe, Crofton, Md., April 1 5, 1973. 1933 - Ralph C. Bayard, Jr., Dover, Dela., January 7, 1973. 1934 - Gerald L. Kurtz, Paterson, N.J., March 26, 1973. 1935 -Elmer A. Jones, Jr., North East, Md., April 17, 1973. 1969 - James L. Pipes, Dayton, Tex., February 17, 1969 33 �A series of eight concerts has been announced for the current year in Santa Fe. These will be part of the regular Friday night lecture/concert portion of the curriculum. Sep. 28 The Yale Chamber Ensemble - 18th and !9th century music. Nov. 16 The Baroque Trio of the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis - 16th centmy music Dec. 14 Gilliam McHugh, pianist works of Bach, Haydn, Chopin, and John Ireland Jan.25 Richard Hudson - a lecturereading entitled "BrowningDramatic Monologues and Lyrics" Feb. 15 Jack Glatzer, violinist works of Bach and Paganini Apr. 5 The Tokyo Quartet - classical chamber music Apr. 26 The New Mexico Chamber Society Octet - woodwind music by Mozart and Beethoven May 3 Photo credits: Cover, Robin Page West '77; page 29, Don Bandler. Jack Brimberg, painist Bach's Goldberg Variations The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing ofliccs. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 33 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, October 1973 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-10 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Description An account of the resource Volume XXV, Number 3 of The College. Published in October 1973. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_25_No_3_1973 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf President's Report Presidents The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/d90a7da56a772cfc0ce719c6b0698431.pdf aaca6386051d178f67cb90b95352a9e6 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico January 1974 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXV January, 1974 No. 4 Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parr an, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Michael W. Ham, Paul D. Newland, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, RobertS. Zelenka THE COLLEGE is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President, Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four titnes a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE JANUARY ISSUE: Memorials to Leo Strauss 1 What is a Liberal Education? .. by Leo Strauss 6 High School Workshop by Ted A. Blanton 10 News on the Campuses 12 Alumni Activities 14 ON THE COVER: Leo Strauss, first Scott Buchanan Distinguished Scholar-in-Residence in Annapolis. Photo credits: p. 13, Eugene Iorgov '75; p. 14, Lee ZlatoH '74; p. 15, Malcolm Handte 75. �LEO STRAUSS 1899-1973 'We devote this issue to Leo Strauss, whose death could only be mentioned briefly in our October issue. On 22 October the weekly Collegian had a note by Laurence Berns which is reproduced below. Leo Strauss passed away this Thursday evening, October 18, in his sleep, about 6:30 p.m. His last days were spent-fighting against an overwhelming combination of illnesses-as were most of the days of a very fruitful life, subordinating everything, as far as he was able, to learning and to teaching. He was, above all, a great learner and consequently a great teacher. As Professor of Political Philosophy especially at the University of Chicago and at the New School, Claremont College, and St. John's he trained and inspired a large group of scholars and students to carry on investigations into the foundations of modern political life and thought, the difference between ancient and modern philosophy and science, the relations between politics, philosophy, and religion, the foundations of political life in general, the grounds and origins of philosophy, and other such questions. A very important part of this teaching and learning is included in a large number of difficult, lucid, highly condensed, and in their special way, channing writ~ ings, among which are Natural Right and I-Iistory, What is Political Pl,ilosopl1y?, Thoughts on Machia- velli, On Tyranny, Persecution and the Art ot Writing, The City and Man, and Socrates and Aristopllanes. He managed to combine an extremely accurate and capacious memory and the capacity for painstakingly meticulous analysis with extreme boldness and search- ing openness of thought. He had what seemed to be an unerring instinct for getting to the "nerve" of an argument, for stripping away irrelevancies and stating the most complicated arguments in simple, direct, and powerful language. Being faced by great and impressive structures of philosophy and science, he used to say: Our task is to try to understand the humble foundations that underlie these imposing edifices. His relation to St. John's College was very close for many years. This was a place, he thought, where what he was trying to do might be understood and appreciated, where men might be found who are capable and hardy enough to continue and keep alive the tradition begun by Socrates. A memorial meeting was held in the Great Hall on 31 October. At it four speakers paid tribute to Leo Strauss. They were Jacob Klein, J. Winfree Smith, Ted Blanton, '75, and Laurence Berns. VIe are printing the texts of their speeches and the text of a commencement address which Leo Strauss gave in Chicago in 1959. Its title was "What is Liberal Education?" Ill 1 �The College Jacob Klein This meeting has been called to pay homage to Leo Strauss who died about two weeks ago. He was the Scott Buchanan Distinguished Scholar in Residence at St. John's College in Annapolis since 1969, but not very many students and tutors here knew him or even knew about him. Let me, therefore, say a few words about his life. He studied in Marburg and in Hamburg; Germany, lived many years, doing research and writing, in Berlin, then in Paris and in Cambridge, England. He came to the United States in 1938 and taught at the New School in New York, at the University of Chicago, at a college in Claremont, California, and finally here at St. John's. He wrote many extremely important books which I shall not enumerate. (You will find most of them in the library.) He was devoted to his work as people seldom are. And it is at this point that I have to try to lift my words up so as to reach the level of complexity, uniqueness, and greatness which characterize Leo Strauss as a scholar and as a man. His main interest throughout his life was the way man has to live here on earth. That meant to him the way man has to be understood as a "political animal, n to use Aristotle's phrase. He spent all his life as a man engaged in "political philosophy." He did that mainly by studying and analyzing the masters of political thought and all the authors related to them. Let me name the most important ones: Thucydides, Plato, Xenophon, Aristophanes, Aristotle, Maimonides, Thomas Aquinas, Machiavelli, Spinoza, Hobbes, Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Montesquieu, Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche, Heidegger. Strauss's erudition was immense. He knew the authors I have just cited better than anyone I could possibly name. His interpretative power showed a degree of sagacity, perspicacity, and lucidity hardly equaled today anywhere. He knew how much depends on every word of those authors, on the way each word was used singly, on the way each was combined with others in sequences, in paragraphs, in the entire work, and how much depended on what was not said, on what was only hinted at, and on what was scrupulously omitted. He was deeply aware of the dangers of generalization as well as the necessity to generalize under certain circumstances and to do it circumspectly. It is thus. that he achieved an understanding not only of what is written about political life, but also about what it is and can be. I have known him for more than fifty years, since our student days in Marburg, and I have always been impressed by the way his serioumess was coupled with wittiness, his depth with simplicity, his intellectual strength with a love of things far from intellectual. This complexity made him robust and strong, although on occasion he appeared shy or even morose. He never forgot what he was seeking, but he was cautious in his search, never pretending, never ostentatious, only seldom raising his voice. All this is one of the sources of his attractiveness and of 2 the love so many felt for him. There is something else that cannot remain unmentioned now as it did not remain unmentioned in the speeches delivered at Strauss's funeral. It is his profound awareness of being a Jew. Just as his thinking on man as a "political animal" had its roots in what the ancient Greeks thought, had its focus in Athens, his preoccl)pation with the question of divinity and with the peculiar way of Jewish life and Jewish history tied his thinking and feeling to Jerusalem. He distinguished sharply-and did so always-the political programs and actions of the Jews from their religious background. There was a time when Leo Strauss was an orthodox Jew, while yet pursuing his political goals explicitly and determinedly in an unreligious way. He later changed his religious orientation radically, tying the question of god and of gods to his political reasoning, without letting his own life be dependent on any divinity or on any religious rites. But his being in a definite sense a Jew was all-important to him. Nothing could change that. All of those who have known him will never forget that he belonged to two worlds. They bow to the greatness of his soul and its complexity, to his unique sense of the important, to his modesty. They cannot do otherwise. 111 J. Winfree Smith During the past four years St. John's College has been blessed with the presence of Leo Strauss, and now he has in body gone from us. He will be greatly missed by those of us who had known him for many years and by those of us, students, faculty, and others, who profited so much from his Wednesday class. When I came to know Mr. Strauss, which was not long after I came to St. John's, I was just becoming aware of the depth and breadth of the "antagonism," if I may use his word, between Biblical revelation and Greek philosophy. In those days and in this hall he undertook in a lecture entitled "Jerusalem and Athens" to set forth the grounds and implications of that antagonism. That lecture was only the first of many of his undertakings in which he helped me to articulate questions which surely are important for all thinking persons and which were and are close to the center of my own being. This articulation of antagonism in thought was characteristic of much that he did. He was never tempted by easy and superficial resolutions of great issues. He knew how to present two sides of a grand argument in such a way that one could see the strength of the case on each side. He sometimes called himself a political philosopher or a political scientist. Of course, he was more. No doubt his attention was directed particularly to political things. Through him many have come to a greater insight than perhaps most recent writers have provided �January 1974 of the differences between the ancients and the moderns in regard to political things and the more than political roots of those differences. He loved to study books that offer special problems for interpretation, books the authors of which have, maybe for quite different reasons, concealed their meaning. Some- times I have not been able to follow all the steps of his intricate arguments in quest of the meaning. At times I have found myself in disagreement with this or that inter· pretation. But one could never put his reasonings aside. For there was always something very solid to invite, arouse, and challenge thought. Mr. Strauss had a special significance for the many stu· dents of his whose ancestors, like his own, belonged to that people whom the Lord brought out of Egypt with His mighty hand and His outstretched arm. He made them aware of and rightly rejoice in their heritage. "Why should we," he once said, addressing a Jewish audience, "why should we, who after all are not gypsies, but have behind us and within us a heroic past, deny or forget that past?" We can all say that it will be impossible to remember Mr. Strauss without remembering, and thinking on, those things in the universally human past that arc excellent and worthy of praise. 11 Ted A. Blanton I should like to begin by recalling a statement from Violet Bonham Carter's biography of Winston Churchill. As the daughter of British Prime Minister Asquith, she had known Mr. Churchill as a friend for many years, in and out of politics, in and out of war. Speaking of her own shortcomings as the biographer of such a man, she took consolation in this one fact: even a fool can be of help in aiding one's understanding of a great man if only he would report what he sees and hears. Great men rarely walk the earth. Few have the privilege of knowing them. \Vith such a caution to you, let me proceed. I shall not forget my first sight of Mr. Strauss. I had been enrolled in St. John's College for several weeks by the time Mr. Strauss offered a class on Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil. As I waited for class to begin I reflected on my introduction to Mr. Strauss' writings. A teacher of polities where I formerly studied had attracted me with his own clear vision and spiritedness. This teacher spoke of days at the University of Chicago and the presence there of a master teacher, Professor Strauss, for whom he had the highest respect and admiration. I also remembered having listened to older students there sit late into the morning hours discussing such books as Natural Right and History and The City and Man. Then, just at 4:30p.m., a small man, walking with a cane, entered the conversation room on the arm of a younger man and took his seat at the head of the table. I was taken by surprise. I had imagined Mr. Strauss a tall, robust man for he wrote in such a forceful and uncompromising fashion on human excellence and on the crisis of the Western World. Mr. Strauss began to speak, and I quickly learned an important lesson. I had never seen what it was to have a great soul. Mr. Strauss spoke with authority and with an earnestness to which I was not accustomed. While not understanding much of those classes on Nietzsche, I was charmed: charmed by an old man who while speaking gave every evidence of being young; charmed by his gcntlemanliness and his patience in answering questions. I believe that only in Mr. Strauss's next class, on Thucy· dides-when I was fortunate enough to bring Mr. Strauss to class on my ann-did the power of his teaching begin to strike home. "We read the ancient books not because of a nostalgic interest but because those books make clear our situation here and now." It was clear that most of us in the class stood to him in the relationship of pupil to master. Yet Mr. Strauss's example of carefully moving through the text gave us the hope that we could train our eyes to see some of the things he saw. His teaching also brought to life for me the advice he had given to an aspiring teacher years earlier. The general rule for teaching that Mr. Strauss gave at that time was this: "Always assume that there is one silent student in your class who is by far superior to you in head and in heart." We have witnessed the high character of a man who lived by deed in accord ,with those words. I was also privileged to see Mr. Strauss at his home. On some of these occasions he would receive questions from me, questions that presented themselves from his weekly class or from my own reading. Once, when our conversa~ lion ended with Mr. Strauss counseling me to make good use of my youth by studying, I asked for a determination of the subjects worthy of the most study. After a short remark on the character of liberal arts colleges, Mr. Strauss suggested a curriculum built around the study of four books. True to form, he named only three of themAristotle's Ethics, Aquinas' Treatise on Law, and Kant's Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysics ot Morals. The longer I was acquainted with Mr. Strauss, the more I was impressed by the care he took in speaking to people. For I could see that he spoke to different people in differ· ent ways. I believe he knew what each of us needed to hear. When I would leave his home he always took my hand and thanked me for everything I had done. But truly I was the one who owed the thanks. Upon leaving his home I was both restful and restless: restful because of the calmness and the sheer delight of his words to me and restless because he instilled in me an eagerness to think and to learn. Friendship appeared to me in a fuller light: friendship is not that relationship where all is relaxed but the relationship where one's highest faculties are poised for 3 �The College graceful movement. I believe that in those moments I was more fully human than at any other time. Mr. Strauss leaves a shelf full of books behind him, books raising the same questions he raised in his classes here at St. John's. He always wanted to be learning something new and to be leading others with him. Those students who knew him, who knew him even a short while, as most of us here, will have a priceless gift to take to the study of those books. W c have the living memory of the character of the man-his bright eyes, his endless wit and charm, the numberless stories he could recall to illustrate a difficult point, the precious moments of silence before he would respond to a question, his determination to arrive at the heart of an argument only to turn to the class and ask, "What do you think of it-docs it make sense?" -we have all of these and more, to carry with us to his books. We have been taught by example. We have seen what few others have the opportunity to see: a lover of wisdom in the flesh. I would like to close my remarks by reading two things. Mr. Strauss quotes the first in his essay "What is Liberal Education?": Just as others arc pleased by a good horse or dog or bird, I myself am pleased to an even higher degree by good friends ... And the treasures of the wise men of old which they left behind by writing them in books, I unfold and go through them together with my friends, and if we see something good, we pick it out and regard it as a great gain if we thus become useful to one another. Most of you will recognize the second as coming from Plato's Gorgias: Of what sort am I? One of those who would be glad to be refuted if I say anything untrue, and glad to refute anyone else who might speak untruly; but just as glad, mind you, to be refuted as to refute, since I regard the former as the greater benefit in proportion as it is a greater benefit for oneself to be delivered from the greatest evil than to deliver someone else. For I consider that a man cannot suffer any evil so great as a false opinion on the subjects of our actual argument. Ill Laurence Berns I shall try to describe Mr. Strauss's impact on us as graduate students in the political and social sciences and philosophy at the University of Chicago. We had, of course, met teachers who were learned, intelligent and impressive men. The best of them impressed us not only by their characters but by their clarity and by the extent of their knowledge and reading. The goal of reason in our scientific times, it seemed, was to construct logical systems 4 tl1at were consistent with as many facts as possible. Mr. Strauss, surely, impressed us with the extent of his learning too. But far more important was the demonstration by example that progress, personal progress, was possible not only in extent of understanding, but also in depth of understanding, depth of insight. System, or better, "order and orderliness are very good," he once said, "but I prefer illumination." The quest for wisdom in that sense evoked by the name of Socrates became for us not just an object of fond hopes, a poet's dream, but a possible, a reasonable, even if most difficult, undertaking, an under~ taking that we might be privileged to take part in. Mr. Strauss provided us with both inspiration and training. Many of us came into those classes with a fairly high opinion of our own powers of comprehension. The courses, usually lecture courses, were mostly on one, sometimes two books per quarter. There was plenty of time to read the assignments two or more times. Mr. Strauss's first few introductory sentences usually summed up most of what we had gotten from the reading and then at a lightning pace, which I believe strained the best of us, we would learn that the books we thought we had understood fairly well contained worlds more than we su~pected, that they were far more challenging, fascinating, bold, careful and intricate than anyone had ever led us to believe. We, of course, argued and questioned, pressed for more evidence, for more explanation and reexplanation. In his classes Mr. Strauss was far more generous about marshalling evidence, about explaining connections one way and then another with a view to the difficulties of different questioners, than he is in his highly condensed lectures and writings. There is scarcely a paragraph, for instance, in Natural Right and History, that does not crystalize, yet without simplification, sometimes in a few simple-sounding sentences, hours and days of lively argument and discussion. The density and thrift of his published writings, compared with his classes, reminds me of the difference between the books Hegel prepared for the press himself and those more expansive publications of notes on and of his lectures. We students were first of all angry with ourselves. Why had we not seen what we now saw was really there to see? We became increasingly aware not only of the distance between ourselves and Mr. Strauss, but more generally and more importantly, the distance in care and thoughtfulness between ourselves and the great thinkers. This awareness changed our lives. Much greater efforts than we had imagined were required: What we had regarded as our best was not good enough. This was all very serious, but there is another side to it. Those classes for all their challenge and seriousness were simply delightful. Strauss inspired without ever trying. It was evident that nothing delighted him as much as thinking through, contemplating, explaining and making his discoveries. The classes always left us with many unan- �January 1974 swercd questions. More often than not some of us would pursue him after class; the inquiry and discussion would continue in the hall, in his office, and on the way home. I remember more than one class that began at 1:30 and really ended close to 7 o'clock before his apartment door. He was never altogether satisfied with what he had worked out, always testing and trying what he thought he knew with new questions, new perspectives, and new arguments. He disliked repeating himself and often when summing up a previous class, as point of departure for the next, we would realize that the summary was not just a summary but incorporated all the advances made in the hall, or on the way home or in his study the previous night. It made no difference whether he was talking to 40, 25, 5, 3, or just one person; the same searching intensity and delight in learning prevailed. The delight often bubbled over into humor. He could be very funny. Yet that high humor never detracted from the seriousness: indeed, we came to see that they go together, as long as both are high. Some time after I began to attend those classes I learned that Nietzsche had written a book entitled Gay, or Joyful Science: I thought I had an inkling of what he meant. The life of a thinking man is to be found most of all in his thoughts. I could not begin to try to do justice to the memory of Leo Strauss without at least some brief remarks about the themes of his investigations. Philosophy and science come into the world, according to Strauss, with the discovery of nature; and the fundamental intra-philosophic issue, the issue between the ancients and the moderns, concerns their different understandings of nature and nature's status. Mr. Strauss concentrated especially on the study of human nature. This is not the place to go into how the study of human nature is complicated by the rediscovery of exotericism, except perhaps to remark that the study of what most of the greatest writers prior to Kant mean by human nature is inseparable from the study of the implications of their rhetoric. The connection between nature and human nature becomes evident by questions such as these: Are we correct to speak of what is good for man by nature? Are we equipped by nature to understand nature, to understand what is good by nature? Or is nature indifferent or hostile to man's highest aspirations? Is it naive to think that the human intellect is constituted by nature so as to understand nahue1 that nature is so constituted as to be understood by the human intellect? If it is naive, as the moderns argue, is not nature rather to be studied with a view to its ultimate conquest, with a view to its intellectual conquest by means of the art of symbolic mathematics and experiment and its physical conquest by the technological arts concomitant with mathematical physics? Is nature then to be studied with a view to the ultimate triumph of human art? But if nature cannot provide us with standards, how are we to determine the purposes to which that art is to be put? The dilemmas, not to speak of horrors, consequent upon the modern project require a careful tracing back of our steps, the rediscovery of the fundamental notions and assumptions that brought us to this impasse. That means, to speak in the broadest outline, the rediscovery of the fundamental notions and assumptions that underlie the modern understanding of nature, the rediscovery of the fundamental notions and assumptions of the classical understanding of nature which the moderns reject and thereby presuppose that they understand. And lastly it means the rediscovery of the basic insights and assumptions that underlie the original discovery of nature, the original discovery of philosophy and science. This last task brings us face to face with the alternatives to philosophy. Philosophy, either in its quest to understand itself, or simply as full open-mindedness, is obliged to examine, to articulate the serious alternatives to philosophy. Philosophy, as the quest for a rational account of the whole is always faced by the rival accounts of the whole laid down by the revealed religions. Both revealed religion and philosophy look upon such accounts as indispensable to the guidance of human life. The most impressive alternative to philosophy in the life of Leo Strauss is summoned up by the name of a city, Jerusalem, the holy city. What if the one thing most needful is not philosophic wisdom, but righteousness? This notion of the one thing most needful, Mr. Strauss argued, is not defensible if the world is not the creation of the just and loving God, the holy God. Neither philosophy nor revealed religion, he argued, can refute one another; for, among other reasons, they disagree about the very principles or criteria of proof. Leo Strauss was a Jew, a Jewish scholar, and, if I know anything about the meaning of the word, he was a philosopher; but he insisted that strictly speaking there is no such thing as Jewish philosophy. TI1is mutual irrefutability and tension between philosophy and Biblical revelation appeared to him to be the secret of the vitality of Western Civilization. It may seem immodest, he once remarked, to speak about all objects of human knowledge, but, and I quote, "we all really have opinions-and sometimes very strong opinions-about all objects of human knowledge, and it is perhaps better to confess that to oneself and to try to clarify that than just to leave it at the amiable appearance of modesty." As much as those of us who knew him miss him, it is impossible to think about him and what he stood for without somehow feeling better about being a human being, without being grateful for having been able to share some part of the grace with which his life abounded. 1111 1 5 �What is a Liberal Education? by Leo Strauss Liberal education is education in culture or toward culture. The finished product of a liberal education is a cultured human being. "Culture" ( cu]tura) means primarily agriculture: the cultivation of the soil and its products, taking care of the soil, improving the soil in accordance with its nature. "Culture" means derivatively and today chiefly the cultivation of the mind, the taking care and improving of the native faculties of the mind in accordance with the nature of the mind. Just as the soil needs cultivators of the soil, the mind needs teachers. But teachers are not as easy to come by as farmers. The teachers themselves are pupils and must be pupils. But there cannot be an infinite regress: ultimately there must be teachers who are not in turn pupils. Those teachers who are not in turn pupils are the great minds or, in order to avoid any ambiguity in a matter of such importance, the greatest minds. Such men are extremely rare. We are not likely to meet any of them in any classroom. We are not likely to meet any of them anywhere. It is a piece of good luck if there is a single one alive in one's time. For all practical purposes, pupils, of whatever degree of proficiency, have access to the teachers who are not in turn pupils, to the greatest minds, only through the great books. Liberal education will then consist in studying with the proper care the great books which the greatest minds have left behind-a study in which the more experienced pupils assist the less experienced pupils, including the beginners. This is not an easy task, as would appear if we were to consider the formula which I have just mentioned. That formula requires a long commentary. Many lives have been spent and may still be spent in writing such commentaries. For instance, what is meant by the remark that the great books should be studied "with the proper care"? At present I mention only one difficulty which is obvious to everyone among you: the greatest minds do not tell us the same things regarding the most important themes; the community of the greatest minds is rent by 6 discord and even by various kinds of discord. Whatever further consequences this may entail, it certainly entails the consequence that liberal education cannot be simply indoctrination. I mention yet another difficulty. "Liberal education is education in culture." In what culture? Our answer is: culture in the sense of the Western tradition. Yet Western culture is only one among many cultures. By limiting ourselves to Western culture, do we not condemn liberal education to a kind of parochialism, and is not parochialism incompatible with the liberalism, the generosity, the openmindcdness, of liberal education? Our notion of liberal education does not seem to fit an age which is aware of the fact that there is not tl1e culture of tl1e human mind but a variety of cultures. Obviously, "culture" if susceptible of being used in the plural is not quite the same thing as "culture" which is a singulare tantum, which can be used only in the singular. "Culture" is now no longer, as people say, an absolute but has become relative. It is not easy to say what culture susceptible of being used in the plural means. As a consequence of this obscurity people have suggested, explicitly or implicitly, that "culture" is any pattern of conduct common to any human group. Hence we do not hesitate to speak of the culture of suburbia or of the cultures of juvenile gangs both nondelinquent and delinquent. In other words, every human being outside of lunatic asylums is a cultured human being, for he participates in a culture. At the frontiers of research there arises the question as to whether there are not cultures also of inmates of lunatic asylums. If we contrast the present-day usage of "culture" with the original meaning, it is as if someone would say that the cultivation of a garden may consist of the garden being littered with empty tin cans and whiskey bottles and used papers of various descriptions thrown around the garden at random. Having arrived at this point, we realize that we have lost our way somehow. Let us then make a fresh start by raising the question: what can liberal education mean here and now? �January Liberal education is literate education of a certain kind: some sort of education in letters or through letters. There is no need to make a case for literacy; every voter knows that modern democracy stands or falls by literacy. In order to understand this need we must reflect on modern democracy. What is modern democracy? It was once said that democracy is the regime that stands or falls by virtue: a democracy is a regime in which all or most adults are men of virtue~ and since virtue seems to require wisdom, a regime in which all or most adults are virtuous and wise, or the society in which all or most adults have developed their reason to a high degree, or the rational society. Democracy in a word is meant to be an aristocracy which has broadened into a universal aristocracy. Prior to the emergence of modern democracy some doubts were felt whether democracy thns understood is possible. As one of the two greatest minds among the theorists of democ· racy put it, "If there were a people consisting of gods, it would rule itself democratically. A government of such perfection is not suitable for human beings." This still and small voice has by now become a high·powered loudspeaker. There exists a whole science-the science which I among thousands profess to teach, political sciencewhich so to speak has no other theme than the contrast between the original conception of democracy, or what one may call the ideal of democracy, and democracy as it is. According to an extreme view which is the predom· inant view in the profession, the ideal of democracy was a sheer delusion and the only thing which matters is the behavior of democracies and the behavior of men in democracies. Modern democracy, so far from being uni- versal aristocracy, would be mass rule were it not for the fact that the mass cannot rule but is ruled by elites, i.e., groupings of men who for whatever reason are on top or have a fair chance to arrive at the top; one of the most important virtues required for the smooth working of democracy, as far as the mass is concerned, is said to be electoral apathy, i.e., lack of public spirit; not indeed the salt of the earth but the salt of modern democracy are those citizens who read nothing except the sports page and the comic section. Democracy is then not indeed mass rule but mass culture. A mass culture is a culture which can be appropriated by the meanest capacities without any intellectual and moral effort whatsoever and at a very low monetary price. But even a mass culture and precisely a mass culture requires a constant supply· of what are called new ideas, which are the products of what are called creative minds: even singing commercials lose their appeal if they are not varied from time to time. But democracy, even if it is only regarded as the hard shell which protects the soft mass culture, requires in the long run qualities of an entirely different kind: qualities of dedication, of concentration, of breadth and of depth. Thus we understand most easily what liberal education means here and now. Liberal education is the counter-poison to mass cui- 1974 ttue, to the corroding effects of mass culture, to its inher- ent tendency to produce nothing but "specialists without spirit or vision and voluptuaries without heart." Liberal education is the ladder by which we try to ascend from mass democracy to democracy as originally meant. Liberal education is the necessary endeavor to found an aristoc- racy within democratic mass society. Liberal education reminds those members of a mass democracy who have ears to hear, of human greatness. Someone might say that this notion of liberal education is merely political, that it dogmatically assumes the goodness of modern democracy. Can we not turn our backs on modern society? Can we not return to nature, to the life of preliterate tribes? Are we not crushed, nauseated, degraded by the mass of printed material, the graveyards of so many beautiful and majestic forests? It is not sufficient to say that this is mere romanticism, that we today cannot return to nature: may not coming generations, after a man-wrought cataclysm, be compelled to live in illiterate tribes? Will our thoughts concerning thermonuclear wars not be affected by such prospects? Certain it is that the horrors of mass culture (which include guided tours to integer nature) render intelligible the longing for a return to nature. An illiterate society at its best is a society ruled by age-old ancestral custom which it traces to original founders, gods or sons of gods or pupils of gods; since there are no letters in such a society, the late heirs cannot be in direct contact with the original founders; they cannot know whether the fathers or grandfathers have not deviated from what the original founders meant, or have not defaced the divine message by merely human additions or subtractions; hence an illiterate society cannot con~ sistently act on its principle that the best is the oldest. Only letters which have come down from the founders can make it possible for the founders to speak directly to the latest heirs. It is then self-contradictory to wish to return to illiteracy. We are compelled to live with books. ·• But life is too short to live with any but the greatest books. In this respect as well as in some others, we do well to take as our model that one among the greatest minds who because of his common sense is the mediator between us and the greatest minds. Socrates never wrote a book but he read books. Let me quote a statement of Socrates which says almost everything that has to be said on our subject, with the noble simplicity and quiet greatness of the ancients. "Just as others are pleased by a good horse or dog or bird, I myself am pleased to an even higher degree by good friends .... And the treasures of the wise men of old which they left behind by writing them in books, I unfold and go through them together with my friends, and if we see something good, we pick it out and regard it as a great gain if we thus become useful to one another." The man who reports this utterance, adds the remark: "When I heard this, it seemed to me both that Socrates was blessed and that he was leading those listen- 7 �The College ing to him toward perfect gentlemanship." This report is defective since it does not tell us anything as to what Socrates did regarding those passages in the books of the wise men of old of which he did not know whether they were good. From another report we learn that Euripides once gave Socrates the writing of Heraclitus and then asked him for his opinion about that writing. Socrates said: "What I have understood is great and noble; I believe this is also true of what I have not understood; but one surely needs for understanding that writing some special sort of a diver." Education to perfect gentlemanship, to human excellence, liberal education consists in reminding oneself of human excellence, of human greatness. In what way, by what means docs liberal education remind us of human greatness? We cannot think highly enough of what Jib. era! education is meant to be. We have heard Plato's sug· gestion that education in the highest sense is philosophy. Philosophy is quest for wisdom or quest for knowledge regarding the most important, the highest, or the most comprehensive things; such knowledge, he suggested, is virtue and is happiness. But wisdom is inaccessible to man and hence virtue and happiness will always be imperfect. In spite of this, the philosopher, who, as such, is not simply wise, is declared to be the only true king; he is declared to possess all the excellences of which man's mind is capable, to the highest degree. From this we must draw the conclusion that we cannot be philosophers-that we cannot acquire the highest form of education. \Vc must not be deceived by the fact that we meet many people who say that they are philosophers. For those people employ a loose expression which is perhaps necessitated by administrative convenience. Often they mean merely that they are members of philosophy departments. And it is as absurd to expect members of philosophy depart· ments to be philosophers as it is to expect members of art departments to be artists. We cannot be philosophers but we love philosophy; we can try to philosophize. This philosophizing consists at any rate primarily and in a way chiefly in listening to the conversation between the great philosophers or, more generally and more cautiously, between the greatest minds, and therefore in studying the great books. T11e greatest minds to whom we ought to listen are by no means exclusively the greatest minds of the West. It is merely an unfortunate necessity which prevents us from listening to the greatest minds of India and of China: we do not understand their languages, and we cannot learn all languages. To repeat, liberal educa· tion consists in listening to the conversation among the greatest minds. But here we are confronted with the overwhelming difficulty that this conversation does not take place without our help-that in fact we must bring about that conversation. The greatest minds utter monologues. We must transform their monologues into a dialogue, their "side by side" into a "together." The greatest 8 minds utter monologues even when they write dialogues. When we look at the Platonic dialogues, we observe that there is never a dialogue among minds of the highest order: all Platonic dialogues are dialogues between a superior man and men inferior to him. Plato apparently felt that one could not write a dialogue between two men of the highest order. We must then do something which the greatest minds were unable to do. Let us face this difficulty-a difficulty so great that it seems to condemn liberal education as an absurdity. Since the greatest minds contradict one another regarding the most important matters, they compel us to judge of their monologues; we cannot take on trust what any one of them says. On the other hand we cannot but notice that we are not competent to be judges. This state of things is concealed from us by a number of facile delusions. We somehow believe that our point of view is superior, higher than those of the greatest minds-either because our point of view is that of our time, and our time, being later than the time of the greatest minds, can be presumed to be superior to their times; or else because we believe that each of the greatest minds was right from his point of view but not, as he claims, simply right: we know that there cannot be the simply true substantive view but only a simply true formal view; that formal view consists in the insight that every comprehensive view is relative to a specific perspective, or that all comprehensive views are mutually exclusive and none can be simply true. The facile delusions which conceal from us our true situation all amount to this, that we are, or can be, wiser than the wisest men of the past. W c are thus induced to play the part not of attentive and docile listeners, but of impresarios or lion-tamers. Yet we must face our awesome situation, created by the necessity that we try to be more than attentive and docile listeners, namely, judges, and yet we are not competent to be judges. As it seems to me, the cause of this situation is that we have lost all simply authoritative traditions in which we could trust, the nomos which gave us authoritative guidance, because our immediate teachers and teachers' teachers believed in the possibility of a simply rational society. Each of us here is compelled to find his bearings by his own powers however defective they may be. We have no comfort other than that inherent in this activity. Philosophy, we have learned, must he on its guard against the wish to be edifying-philosophy can only be intrinsically edifying. We cannot exert our understanding without from time to time understanding something of importance, and this act of understanding may be accompanied by the awareness of our understanding, by the understanding of understanding, by noesis noeseos, and this is so high, so pure, so noble an experience that Aristotle could ascribe it to his God. This experience is entirely independent of whether what we understand primarily is pleasing or displeasing, fair or ugly. It leads us �January 1974 to realize that all evils arc in a sense necessary if there is to be understanding. It enables us to accept all evils which befall us and which may well break our hearts in the spirit of good citizens of the city of God. By becoming aware of the dignity of the mind, we realize the true ground of the dignity of man and therewith the goodness of the world, whether we understand it as created or as uncreated, which is the home of man because it is the home of the human mind. Liberal education, which consists in the constant inter~ course with the greatest minds, is a training in the highest form of modesty, not to say of humility. It is at the same time a training in boldness: it demands from us the complete break with the noise, the rush, the thoughtlessness, the cheapness of the Vanity Fair of the intellectuals as well as of their enemies. It demands from us the boldness implied in the resolve to regard the accepted views as mere opinions, or to regard the average opinions as extreme opinions which are at least as likely to be wrong as the most strange or the least popular opinions. Liberal education is liberation from vulgarity. The Greeks had a beautiful word for "vulgarity"; they called it apeirokalia, lack of experience in things beautiful. Liberal education supplies us with experience in things beautiful. Ill TI1is article was first delivered as an address at the Tenth Annual Graduation Exercises of the Basic Program of Liberal Education for Adults, June 6, 1959, at the University of Chicago, and was later printed. © Copyright 1959 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved. Printed by the University of Chicago Press, Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, The University of Chicago. 9 �High School Workshop by Ted A. Blanton The students come from Harlem, from westside Chicago, from street corners in Baltimore, from little-seen neighborhoods in Washington, D.C., and from the arid shadows of the Sandia Mountains of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Some come from large families-one girl shares her roof with twenty-one others-while several come from almost no family. Their backgrounds range from overcrowded inner-city schools where the first subject is discipline seconded by basketball, to the experimental public "School-Without-Walls" in Washington, D.C. They gather at St. John's in Santa Fe for one month in the middle of the summer to study Plato, Sophocles, Plutarch, St. Paul, Machiavelli, the Founding Fathers, and Tocqueville. The High School Workshop was begun under the auspices of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education in the summer of 1972. The workshop was first proposed by inner-city teachers from Chicago and New York who were in attendance at the Graduate Institute. Their concern was to invite bright city youth who, by circumstances, are deprived of opportunities to develop their intellect, and to introduce them to a program of liberal studies. The workshop, which has now completed its second session, was organized with the aid of several of the College faculty members along with Graduate Institute alumni from Baltimore and Washington. The program is funded by Mr. Jac Holzman of New York City, who is an alumnus and a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors (and a contributor of fellowships to the Graduate Institute), and also by the National Endowment for the Humanities. This funding makes it possible for each student to participate in the program at no personal expense. Eligibility for the workshop goes to rising high school juniors and seniors who are eager academically and who are likely to lack other enrichment opportunities. Students are first nominated by teachers in appropriate central city high schools. After a selection is made, based on interviews in their home cities, the final group is picked by a lO committee in Santa Fe. Twenty students-ten boys and ten girls-participated in the 1973 session. Five came from Baltimore, three from New Yark City, and four each from Albuquerque, Chicago, and Washington. There were fifteen Negroes, two Spanish-Americans, one American Indian, one Caucasian, and one Filipino. All of them were housed on campus in two small dormitories. This allowed for privacy but also for rubbing shoulders with high school teachers (some their own) pursuing studies in the Graduate Institute. The staff for the workshop consisted of three Institute alumni who were teachers in the Baltimore City School System. Two St. John's College students acted as their aides for the four-week program. Mr. Lloyd Parham, who acted as Director of the Workshop, was vice-principal at Joseph C. Briscoe Junior High School last year. Miss Mary Pat Justice works in a number of schools with the Keeping All Pupils in School (KAPS) program. Mr. Walter Dudley, among other duties, serves as chairman of the department of social sciences in Lom· bard Street Junior High. Miss Catherine Ingraham, 1973 alumna of the Santa Fe campus, and Mr. Ted Blanton of the Annapolis campus were the student aides. The central activity of the workshop occurred in the classroom. A seminar with all the students and two tutors took place twice each week along with a ninety-minute tutorial each day for every student. The tutorial consisted of ten students led by one tutor and a student aide. The curriculum for the workshop was as follows: Seminar Plato, Euthyphro Week I 2 Plato, Apology 3 Plato, Crito 4 Machiavel1i, The Prince {selections) II Tutorial Plutarch: Lives of Pericles, Alcibiades Thucydides: Pericles' Funeral Oration Declaration of Independence Articles of Confederation �January 1974 5 U.S. Constitution, 6 7 without amendments U.S. Constitution, with amendments St. Paul: Romaus III Selected Constitutiona1 Cases Tocqueville: Democracy in America (selections) IV New Testament: Matthew 2-5, 27-28; John 18-19 8 Sophocles: Antigone Sophocles: Oedipus Rex As can be readily grasped from the books selected, the four weeks of study revolve around fundamental questions of law. Another dimension was added to the students' experience by area activities. These included attendance at a rodeo, two performances at the Santa Fe Opera, an eightmile mountain hike in conjunction with a tram ride to the mountaintop, a camping trip in Colorado climaxed by a scenic rail ride, a visit to the Los Alamos science museum, horseback riding, and an overnight trip to the pueblo ruins in Bandelier National Monument. Such events provided an excellent opportunity for the Albuquerque students to introduce the Southwest to those from the cities. The one Indian student of the workshop won the affection of all the others and aided in pointing out elk, golden eagles, hawks, and bear tracks. With almost every trip he would command an expedition of his own. The uneasiness of the inner-city students with regard to the outdoors was demonstrated on the first car~1ping trip when the teachers were left with the responsrbrhtres of cookmg; then when sleeping hours approached, over one-half of the students slept inside the large bus in which the group traveled. Yet by the second overnight trip, the students were eager to build fires, cook meals, sleep on the ground, and hike through the woods. But what about the classroom? How would students who had read none of the selections save the U.S. Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, who had never known discussion but only lectures, who had come from sch?ols that hardly cultivate one's intellect, respond to studymg Plato and Machiavelli? Socrates, in their understanding, proceeded from sophistry (in questioning Euthyphro on piety) to seriousness (" ... no greater good can happen to a man than to discuss human excellence every day ..."). His example provided a reference point for th~ entire session. Almost all the students were skeptics wrth regard to the worthiness of the United States government; yet after comparing the Articles of Confederation with the Constitution and demanding the full rntent of the Declaration ("... all men are created equal and endowed with certain inalienable rights ..."), the most able and outspoken critic-who picked up the nickname "Alcibiades" after the first week-spoke of his newfound respect for the Founding Fathers. Tocqueville's Democracy in America provided some of the most thorough discussions .on such subjects as the far-reaching implicatiOns of equahty, the drfferences between ancient and modern slavery, and the kind of tyranny to be expected in the United States. One interesting seminar showed the facility with which the students spoke of The Prince ("... and, to see and hear him, he should seem to be all mercy, faith, integrity, humanity, and religion") without the least bit of shame. One tutorial met with success by dividing into citizens defending or condemning Antigone's action with respect to the city, a discussion moderated by a third body acting as a Council of Elders. Most of the students thought there would be little to talk about in the Bible. Yet they learned to wonder how one accounts for the differences in the crucifixion narratives and about the meaning of Jesus' temptations in the desert. When the Epistle to the Romans was read, a surprising amount of anger was displayed. However, is was unclear whether the anger was directed toward the content of the scripture or their own education in it. One priceless moment occurred in that seminar. A tall, easy-going young man from Chicago was defending St. Paul in Romans 2:13-17. He began explaining our awareness of our conscience em~ phasizing his speech by pointing at his heart. Suddeniy he stopped speakmg; he showed some h~sitation but finally por':'ted to Ius head and contmued hrs explanation. The enhre senunar puzzled over that hesitation for a few minutes. . The general ability of the students to read carefully had unproved by the end of the session. In the first tutorial the students came to class having collectively decided that "Pericles was a great con-artist." They spoke with little precision and showed no inclination to examine the end of that "art" or its value in ruling the city. By the last tutona1, however, there was more precision and independ- ence of thought. After the reading of Oedipus Rex, a lengthy discussion by various students presented four clear alternatives in understanding the relationship between man and fate. What lasting effects will the one-month program have? If a multitude of tears at the airport departure is any , indication, there were friendships formed between the students on a different basis than they had experienced before. Many of the students commented during the course of the four weeks on their own reactions to the program. One student had thought all learning was modelled on mathematics with one right answer. Another had never realized the shallowness of her reading. A third contended that the public school classroom would be difficult to re-enter. More important than such signs or even testimony to the value of the program is the fact that three participants in the 1972 High School Workshop have enrolled at St. John's in Santa Fe this fall-Arlene Blackwell and Gregory Walker of Baltimore, and Ava Clinkscales of Washington, D.C. 11 Ted A. Blanton, '75, is a student on the Annapolis campus. During the. summer of 1973 he was a student aide with the High School Workshop on the Santa Fe campus. 11 �NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES made a set of disc recordings of some of the music he heard. Dick Stark has visited the villages and talked with families of the singers Sr. Rael knew; unfortunately, all of the musicians themselves are now dead. As a result of correspondence between Sr. Rae! and Mr. Stark the disc recordings have been given to the Museum of New Mexico. Richard Stark STARK TO SPAIN A cooperative venture involving the National Endowment for the Humanities, the International Folk Art Foundation, the Fulbright-Hays Commission and the Government of Spain is sending St. John's College Tutor Richard Stark to Spain to complete a research project which began when he moved to New Mexico more than a decade ago. He will be tracing the antecedents of New Mexican alabados, religious hymns which arc centered around the Lenten season, especially Holy Week. The music involves eighty alabados and several melodies for the pita (flute). Very little has been done in studying and recording the music of Spanish colonists in New Mexico since Sr. Juan B. Rae] worked in northern villages during the thirties. The New Mexican Alabado by Sr. Rae! was published by the Stanford University Press in 1951. At the time he was here he 12 Earlier studies by Stark led to publication of Music of the Spanish Folk Plays in New Mexico, Music of the Bailes in New Mexico and a children's book, Juegos Infantiles Cantados en Nuevo Mexico. These books include folk music derived primarily from nineteenth century Mexico. As his research progressed on the alabados he found nothing in them to lead him to believe that they were of Mexican origin. Indications were that they might be Spanish as they were found in the most isolated communities of northern New Mexico where the customs and language of Spain remained intact longest. A breakthrough, or a possible one, came for Dick Stark in November of last year when the International Institute of Iberian Colonial Art met in Santa Fe. He sang an aJabado for the group to show them the type of music he was discussing and asked for leads in discovering the musical sources of the songs. Dr. Luis Gonzalez Robles of the Instituto de Cultura Hispanica in Madrid immediately identified the music as being exactly like certain Sephardic Jewish chants. His colleagues agreed and so the first stop for Stark in Spain is the University of Madrid Library to study the collection of chants. From Madrid he will go south to the area around Seville and then to Estrcmadura, the province from which many New Mexican colonists immigrated. He plans to spend time in remote villages, monastic libraries and church archives searching for material. His research will he climaxed by being there during the entire Lenten season to hear and record music. In the late spring he expects to return to Santa Fe to work on musical transcription of the alabados and prepare a manuscript. "I believe that this project will result in a very important addition to the growing literature on the long neglected Spanish colonist in the United States," Dick Stark says. The whole Stark family has been involved in New Mexico foik music these past years and has become increasingly intrigued as the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Mrs. Stark and their three sons are looking forward to joining Dick for part of his stay in Spain to, be on hand for the completion of the project which brought them to New Mexico in 1960. Dick Stark attended Colorado College, was graduated from Colorado State College of Education and received his Master's degree from the Yale University School of Music. He taught at Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee, where he was also director of the U nivcrsity Choir, and was a visiting professor of music at Wesleyan University, Middletown, Connecticut. In Santa Fe he has served as Curator of Collections and Curator of Music Research at the Museum of International Folk Art and since 1965 has been a Tutor at St. John's College. �January 1974 ARTIST IN RESIDENCE Charles W. Thwaites, well-known Santa Fe artist, has been appointed Artist-in-Residence at St. John's College, President Richard D. Weigle announced. Mr. Thwaites has lived and painted in the Southwest for the past twenty years. During that time his work has been shown in regional, state and one-man exhibitions, including one at St. John's in 1965. Mr. Thwaites, whose style of painting has varied during his career from objective through non-objective, has been included in major national exhibitions, both juried and invitational. In 1940 his mural design was chosen for the Whitney Museum's exhibition of prize-winning mural designs from the "48 State Competition" sponsored by the U. S. Government Section of Fine Arts. He was represented in the Carnegie Institute's ('Directions in American Painting" and "Painting in the United States" as well as the Metropolitan Museum's "Artists for Victory" show. Mr. Thwaites has shown in both the Corcoran and Virginia Biennials, and at the Chicago Art Institute his work has been selected numerous times for the Internationals and the American Painting and Sculpture exhibitions. At St. John's, which does not offer painting and sculpture courses in the curriculum, Mr. Thwaites will be teaching interested students on an extracurricular basis. BOOK AND AUTHOR LUNCHEONS Hugh Nissenson has had short stories published in Harper's, Commentary, The New Yorker, Playboy, Esquire, and other magazines. His books include A Pile of Stones, which won the Wallant Award in 1965, Notes .from the Frontier, and In the Reign of Peace. Marcia Muth Miller is vice-president and senior editor of The Sunstone Press. A collection of her poetry, Post Card Views and Other Souvenirs, was due to be published this past fall. Marc Simmons formerly taught history at the University of New Mexico, and now lives in Cerrillos in an adobe house he himself built. His latest book, The Little Lion, was published by Swallow Press in October. The luncheon on November 9th featured athlete-author George Plimpton, Southwestern naturalist Eleanor Daggett, and New Mexico outdoor writer Michael Jenkinson. A real-life Walter Mitty, George Plimpton boxed Archie Moore, played tennis with Pancho Gonzales, and joined the Detroit Lions as a rookie, all in the interest of first-hand, participant's-view reporting. His books include Out of My League, The Bogey Man, and his best-selling Paper Lion. Eleanor Daggett is well known to Santa Feans for her "Nature Trek" column in the Sunday New Mexican. Her Chama History, about the section of New Mexico where she grew up, was published earlier this year. Michael Jenkinson was born in England and grew up in Southern California. He has lived in Santa Fe for the past eight years, although much of his time is spent traveling in pursuit of subject matter for books. Wild Rivers of North America, his newest book, was to be released in November. The Santa Fe Book and Author Luncheons, now in their sixth year, continue to benefit both the community and St. John's College. Hundreds of volumes have been added to the Library of the College from the proceeds of these popular programs. On October 12th New York writer Hugh Nissenson, Santa Fe publisher Marcia Muth Miller, and historian Marc Simmons were featured. Journalist Walter Kerr was master of. cere- than 21 years, while "Winnie," as he monies. was known to generations of St. ANNAPOLIS JOTTINGS Two valued and beloved members of the College community retired during the fall: Mrs. Florence Mason and Mr. Winfield Colbert. Mrs. Mason had been a maid at the college for more Malcolm Handte Johnnies, had been a groundsman since April 1, 1930. Mr. Colbert, coincidentally, celebrated his 75th birthday on the day he retired. Ted Wolff, a senior and the son of Peter C. Wolff '44, has worked for two years on the restoration of the gardens of the William Paca House in Annapolis. (For you oldsters, on the site of the Carvel Hall Hotel.) During this time he has discovered a considerable aptitude for horticulture, and plans to study landscape architecture after graduation from St. John's. Junior Malcolm Handte, a native of Binghamton, N.Y., pursues his mountain-climbing hobby by running up the outside wall of the gymnasium. A 13 �The College climber for some four years, Handte hopes to try El Capitan in Yosemite National Park next summer. "It beats volleyball," is the way this National Merit finalist describes his energetic avocation. Steven F. Crockett Rest assured that St. John's students take time off for personal projects during college as do students elsewhere. James Mackey of California and Hong Kong is a case in point: in December he left for a year's hiatus, sailing a boat around Europe, and perhaps even trans-Atlantic back to Maryland. Mackey has three year's sailing experience, has taught in Maryland and California, and has a Hawaii-Los Angeles crossing in a 36-footer under his keel. This must be the year for outdoor activity: on his 30th birthday Tutor Stephen F. Crockett and his wife, Margaret, walked 30 miles. They are members of the Annapolis Road Runners Club, and he has been running and walking hard for four years. This year he has followed a weekly plan of walking 20 miles, running five or six, and cycling another 20. Tutor Douglas Allanbrook performed a benefit harpsichord concert on November 18th, sponsored by the Caritas Society, a town-gown organization which supports the College. Featured was music by Bach and by Allanbrook himself. The former West Reading Room of the Library has been designated the Hartle Room, honoring Major General Russell P. Hartle, USA, an honor graduate of the College in the class of 1910. General Hartle commanded the 34th National Guard Division, the first contingent sent to Europe in World War II. ALUMNI ACTIVITIES HOMECOMING IN BRIEF Perhaps the date was too early, what with dodging boat shows and Navy football games, but the weather was good, and the alumni who came to Annapolis in late September seemed to enjoy Homecoming 1973. From the boat ride on Friday to the last private party Saturday night, it was fun. Regrettably, traffic jams kept some alumni from reaching Annapolis on time, but more than 70 alumni and guests of all ages cruised the beautiful Severn River for two delightful hours Friday evening. Those of academic inclination then listened to Charles Bell lecture on "Satanic Math," while others went on to parties of their own. Evaluation of the cruise: excellent, do it again. 14 Sufficient alumni for one seminar were on hand Saturday morning; each year attendance for this event has fallen off, and it may be that an alternative activity should be found. (Comments welcome.) The Annual Meeting of the Alumni Association was rather well attended; the principal items of business were adoption of changes to the By-Laws to provide a new method of nominating alumni for election to the Board of Visitors and Governors, and election of five new Association directors: Martin A. Dyer '52, Richard D. Ferrier '69, Edward T. Heise '36, Marcia (DelPlain) Reff '57, and C. Edward Roache '39. During the meeting the Alumni Award of Merit was presented to Col. Robert Edward Jones '09 of Palo Alto, Cal. Col. Jones entertained the group with several stories of his student days. Later on Saturday afternoon a brave group of alumni challenged a student team on the soccer field. The game was hotly contested for about three periods, and then the difference in ages began to tell. Final score, Students-2, Alumni-0. (It has been rumored that the two goals were inexplicably lucky shots that trickled past Alumni goalie Bryce Jacobsen '42; maybe.) At the same time as the soccer game, another group of alumni met with a goodly number of students to talk about graduate school experiences. The Association and the College are most grateful to those alumni who took part in this helpful session. The new format of a reception with buffet replaced the reception and din- �January 1974 Rob Cozzolino '63 (left) and Steve Tibbitt '65. Col. Robert E. Jone.~ '09 and Mrs. Jones at Award of Merit ceremony; Bernard F. Gessner '27, rear. 1973 H 0 Goaltender Bryce Jacobsen '42 in action. Miriam (Cunningham) Col1e11 '69 all(l Tutor James M. Tolbert. M E c 0 M Dean Curtis Wilson and Arthur Kungie, Jr. '67. Student Counselling session in King Wiiiiam Room. N G 15 �The College ncr of previous years, and was almost unanimously acclaimed as the best idea in a long time. No more lecture bell to toll the way to dinner, interrupting the reception just as it was getting going; instead there was a natural termination of activities as alumni and their guests drifted off to other parties. The Homecoming Committee for 1974 will be in being by the time you read this. If more alumni arc to be lured back next fall (gas rationing permitting!), new ideas are needed. Homecomings are for YOU-let us hear your ideas. ALUMNI REPRESENTATIVES Robert Burns once warned us about the best laid plans-and he was so right. A key element in the revised procedure for nominating alumni for election to the Board of Visitors and Governors was the use of The College as the medium for inviting nominations and for announcing the nominees. Unfortunately, production of the October issue was delayed, so a special mailing had to be made. Delays beget delays, so this current issue could not carry the names and biographical data on the nominees, as we had hoped. This information will be sent as soon after January 31st as possible, together with a mail-back ballot. We ask that you cast your ballot promptly. Despite adversity, perhaps the most important aspect of the new nominating procedure has been implemented: more than one alumnus will be contending for each vacancy in the election. This assures the general membership a greater choice of candidates than ever before. STuDENT CouNSELING This year's Juniors and Seniors in Annapolis are interested in a variety of career/work areas; the most popular (five or more interested) in descending order of interest: Law, Teaching, Publications (writing, etc.), Medicine, Philosophy, Music, Classics, Anthro16 pology, Art and Art History, Biology, Environmental Science, Foreign Service, and Theology. But that is by no means indicative of genuinely infonned interest: many students are unaware of the opportunities open to them, or even what fields they might like to enter. And many do not even know enough to ask the proper questions. Alumni over the past few years have been very helpful, giving students the benefit of their experience, helping to formulate the questions, and, perhaps, even helping to find answers. Alumni can continue to help; if you have not submitted your name earlier, and would be willing to talk with students on campus, or in their hometowns, or by telephone, please send your name and field of competence to Miss Tina Saddy, Student Counselling Service, St. John's College, Annapolis, Md. 21404. It would be helpful also if you would indicate how you would prefer to meet with the students. What we are talking about is the percentage response or participation of alumni in the Annual Fund. While dollars are important when one talks about financial support for a college, the percentage of alumni who contribute to the Alumni Fund is also most significant. Corporate officers and foundation executives are interested in that figure when approached for help. If a college can point to 40, 50, 60% of its alumni making some sort of gift, that has real impact. (The national average among private, coeducational colleges runs about 20%; the prestigious northeastern institutions reach 40 to 60% regularly. St. John's last year showed 25%, clown from 28% the previous year.) So, please know that no gift is ever too small. Give what you can, but give, whether it is one dollar or one thousand. It will help St. John's College. CLASS NOTES ALUMNI FUND This year's Alumni Annual Giving Campaign was officially launched in early December with letters from the three campaign co-chairmen. (Col. Thomas W. Ligon, classes of 1900 to 1925; John C. Donohue, 1926 to 1940; and Francis S. Mason, Jr., 1941 to 1973.) It will close on June 30, 1974, the end of the College's fiscal year. $40,000 is the goal for this year's Alumni Fund-a new term for the funds raised by the Alumni Annual Giving Campaign for current operating purposes at St. John's. While the greater part of that amount may come from a relatively few alumni, the College is as vitally interested also in those alumni who cannot make large gifts. Younger alumni, still in graduate school or starting new jobs or new families, cannot be expected to give in significant amounts. Neither can older alumni on fixed-income pensions. But, nevertheless, their gifts can and do help the College far more than their face value alone may suggest. 1932 Our July Communicard reached all the way to Bermuda and Hugh Parker, who writes he misses Annapolis, crab cakes, and Maryland oysters; his mention of rum and coconut milk leads us to believe he has found certain compensations. Henry S. Shryock this past August attended meetings of the International Statistical Institute in Vienna, and of the International Unl'on for the Scientific Study of Population in Liege. At the latter Henry contributed a paper, "On Measurement of the Extent of Urbanization." 1935 On October 24th the Ted Levin Memorial Scholarship Fund of Baltimore honored John C. Donohue at its annual scholarship banquet. Alumni present to share the evening with the Donohue family included Bill Armacost '31, Bill Athey '32, Fred Buck '39, Buzz Budacz '39, Bunny Casassa '34, Cal Harrington '31, Bruz Hoff '31, Johnny Lambros '38, Dutch Lentz '18, Bob Miller '36, Tom Farran '42, Julius Rosenberg '38, Tommy Smiti1 '38, and Ernst von Sd1werdtner '17. 1938 At least in one small area ~'omen's Lib is doing well: in September Julius Rosenberg was made an honorary member of the all-female �January 1974 Caritas Society of St. John's College. The reason? Julius was one of the co-founde~s of the Annapolis-area commlmity group whtch supports St. John's College. 1941 Lansdale Hill writes that he is the coauth~r of a book, Complete Guide of Sports Statistics and Record Keeping, due to he published in January by Parker Press. Danny i~ a partner in the public relations firm of Danen and Hill in Santa Clara, Cal. T 1943 Dr, Douglas Buchanan stopped in Annapolis last August, on his way south with his family on their 27-foot sloop. Doug plans to work a year or two somewhere in the Caribbean islands under the auspices of the University of the \Vest Indies, 1946 Daniel S, Parker, chairman of the board of the Parker Pen Co., in September was named director of the Agency for International Development. 1954 Edward F. Bauer, an associate professor of Gennan at Colorado College, is working toward an M.A. degree in counseling at the University of Colorado. Ed would like eventually to do professional marital and family counseling, while continuing his teaching. 1961 Linda (McConnell) Meriam tells us that she teaches English and humanities at St. Norbert College, de PCre, Wis., including a Great Books course this fall. 1962 Maria (Fiascllberger) Hanneman m~d her husband have returned from 2V2 years m Germany, and are living in Benton Harbor, Mich., where he teaches at Lake Michigan College. 1964 From Athens David R Jordan writes that h~ is having a great time putting together an ~~­ tion of the magical curse inscriptions found m the Agora excavations. In December he was ~o give a talk about the inscriptions in St. LoUis, Mo., at the annual meetings of the Archeological Institute of America. David encourages travelling St. Johnnies to visit him; the number in Athens is 733-266. Ann (von Isakovics) Poundstone sends all sorts of interesting news: she graduated from Georgetown University Law Center in June with a Juris Doctor degree, and took and passed the Virginia Bar eA:aminations that same month; John '62 is now Chief, Epidemiology and Biometrics, Navy Medical Research Unit No. 4, Great Lakes Naval Station, Ill.; and last, but by no means least, Ann and John announced the birth, on September 16th, of Katherine Esther von Isakovics Poundstone. Kitty and her parents now live in Mundelein, Ill. 1965 Alenna (Duugan) Leonard is currently working in the development department at Federal City College in Washington, D.C. One of the more recent recipients of an advanced degree is Daniel C. Schiff, who was awarded the Ph.D. degree in philosophy by the Pennsylvania State University last August. 1966 A Stevens Rubin, Captain, Army Medical Corps, is now stationed at Fort Meyer, ya., after a 15-month tour in Korea. Steve writes, "I am returning with the additional karma provided by a fiancCe, Miss Kim Soung Ae." 1967 From Louisville, Ky., this fall came a most cleverly-drawn announcement from Joy and Clark Lobenstine, heralding ("You might call it a doubleheader") the births, on August 15th, of Jonathan Clark and Andrew. James Lobenstine. And a double congratulations to all the Lobenstines from all of us. 1968 Sarah (Manire) Fox is now working at Guilford College in Greensboro, N.C., in the News Bureau and Information and Publications Offices, and is also taking a course in short story writing. Sarah's husband Don is in the Master of Fine Arts program at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Ceorge Partlow, reoriented after his Peace Corps stint, is working toward an M.Ed. degree at Johns Hopkins, and is teaching mathematics at Houston·Woods Junior-Senior High School in Baltimore. Jinna (MacLaurin) and Thomas Rie are the proud parents of Andrew Ric, born October 14th. Maureen Hellner and Dr. John D. Rosenberg, professor of English at Columbia University, were married last June 11th. The Rosenbergs live in Manhattan, where Maureen teaches mathematics at the Spence SchooL Steven Shore (SF) proved his athletic prowess by completing 41 of the 50 miles of the John F. Kennedy Memorial Hike-Run in Maryland last spring. His time was 12Vz hours; next year Steve hopes to finish the course within the 15-hour deadline. Frederick L, Wicks (SF) is attending San Francisco State University in advanced biology and chemistry, and is applying to medical schools. Last summer Rick, Antigone (Phal~Jies) J\!Ioore (teaching m Albuquerque), and Augusta Goldstein (teaching in Pomona, Cal.), visited former Tutor Thomas Slakey at St. Mary's College. 1969 David E. Rigg.~ is in Hampton, Va., tempo· mrily, helping NASA set up a new computer center operation in that area. 1970 Ronald H. Fielding is working as a financial analyst with a small bank holding company in Rochester, N.Y., and is taking courses at night toward his M.B.A. degree. Stephen J. Forman continues his fine record at the University of Southern California Medical School: he was to have a research paper published in the December ~nna1s of Internal Medicine, has been accepted mto Alpha Omega Alpha (medical academic honor society), ~nd has been asked to join the American FederattOn for Clinical Research. And this guy doesn't receive his M.D. degree until next spring! 1971 Holly Carroll is now in her first year at Yale Law SchooL Peter V. Lobe11 and Miss Lucinda Anne Jones of Severna Park, Mel., were married on August 11th, with Peter's father, the Rev. John J. Lobeii '46, officiating, Susan J, Mackey is now a student at Georgetown University Medical SchooL 1972 Thomas Ascik has left his journalistic pur~ suits and is now in officer candidate training at the Marine Corps Schools, Quantico, Va. \Vord has reached us indirectly that Brooke Harris is writing scripts for All In The Family and other television shows. Most sincere congratulations are due Navy Ensign Dana E. Netherton for his successful completion of Nuclear Power School; apparently few people believed a St. Johnny could accomplish that feat. All we can say is don't sell those liberal artists short! From far-off Kabul, Afghanistan, came a card from wandering Watson Fellow Cristel M. Stevens. She was in Madras, India, until last April, studying theater and dance, and after her sojourn in Kabul, will return to her studies in Madras in December. 1973 In September we learned that Deborah E. Schifter is now living in Israel. Eric 0. Springsted (SF) is now a student at Princeton Theological Seminary in the Master of Divinity program. His wife Marsha (Adams) S7 5 works for a Princeton shop where she is the "foremost turquoise jewelry authority" in the town. In Memoriam 1922-Albert L. Anderson, Annapolis, Md., November 2, 1973. 1923-J. W. Barney Gilbert, Annapolis, Md., October 18, 1973. 1933-Ernest K Krohn, N.J., September 29, 1973. Jr., Maywood, �The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and a! additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, January 1974 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-01 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Description An account of the resource Volume XXV, Number 4 of The College. Published in January 1974. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_25_No_4_1974 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/52514cbfcd4ab73efa907d7f92949532.pdf 663862f22267353823dfe290bae121d9 PDF Text Text 'F I L~ THE COLLEGE CoPY St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico April 1974 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVI April, 1974 No. I Editor: Beale Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Michael W. Ham, Paul D. Newland, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, RobertS. Zelenka THE COLLEGE is published by the Development Office of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. Richard D. Weigle, President, Paul D. Newland, Provost. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE APRIL ISSUE: Jacob Klein at 75 f11 The Poet of the Odyssey . by Eva Brann 1 5 Dance, Gesture, and The Marriage of Figaro by Wye Jamison Allanbrook 13 News on the Campuses 22 Alumni Activities 23 ON THE COVER: This sketch is one of eight by Anne Buchanan Crosby which were included in the Festschrift presented to Jacob Klein on March 3, 1974. �Jacob Klein At 75 Jacob Klein's seventy-fiftll birthday was celebrated on Marcil 3, 1974, by a festive gathering of contributors to a Festschrift called Essays in Honor of Jacob Klein at tile llouse of President and Mrs. Weigle. Nearly ·four years llad passed from Samuel Kutler's first letter inviting contributions, in April, 1970, to tile presentation of tile completed typescript, in a splendid box made by Micllael Parks, to our former Dean of long and decisive tenure. Tile secret llad been well kept and tile surprise was complete. All tllat remains now is tor tile book to be printed. Meanwllile tile readers of The College may be interested in his successor's preface to the collection, with its celebration of tile life and work of Jasha Klein. Our readers may also like to know the contents of tile Festschrift pending 'its publication. Preface The studies and essays here collected were written for presentation to Jacob Klein oh the occasion of his seventyfifth birthday. Diverse though they are in subject matter and perspective, they are motivated by a shared sense of indebtedness to a great teacher, a shared respect and admiration for his great learning and wisdom, a shared love for his humanity. Jacob Klein was born in 1899 in Libau, Russia. His education was begun in Lipetsk, and continued in Brussels from 1912 to 1914 and then in Berlin. After graduating in 1917 from the Friedrichs Realgymnasium in Berlin, he studied at the universities of Berlin and MarburgjLahn, his subjects being philosophy, physics, and mathematics. In 1922 he received the Ph.D. at Marburg under Nicolai Hartmann. In the years that followed, he continued studying in Marburg a:nd Berlin, chiefly physics, mathematics, and ancient philosophy. It was an important event for him, he has told us in one of his very few autobiographical statements, when he came to hear Martin Heidegger in Marburg in 1923. The fundamental thing he learned from Heidegg~r was not Heideggerian philosophy, but something he had previously felt to be somehow beyond possibility, namely, that what another man had thought and written might actually and genuinely be understood. In the particular case, the writings newly understood were those of Aristotle. It was to the recovery of classical thought, the thought of Plato and Aristotle, that Jacob Klein now turned, devoting himself to this aim with intensity. A second aim of his studies was to see how the classical mode of thought had come to be transformed into the modern mode of thought, the thought out of which modern science emerged. The two topics are closely conneCted, for the development of modern science has brought with it not only new insights but also a fundamental forgetfulness of what the ancients knew. The sedimentation of thought-the imbedding and burying of earlier insights in later formulas and procedures-thus became a central theme and concern. As a consequence, a pressing .question came to the fore: how should people be educated? A first outcome of these studies was an extended work, Die griechische Logistik und die Entstelmng der Algebra, published in two parts in the Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte der Mathematik, Astronomic und Pllysik in 1934 and 1936. The first part was the thesis for the Habilitation, which would have taken place at the University of Berlin· in October, 1932, had it not been for the change in the political situation in Germany at that time. The entire work has been recently translated into English by Eva Brann and published by the M.I.T. Press under the title Greek Mathematical Thought and the Origin of Algebra. In 1934-i935, Jacob Klein was a visiting lecturer in the history of mathematics at the University of Prague. From 1935 to 1937 he was a fellow of the Moses Mendelssohn Stiftung zur Forderung der Geisteswissenschaften. During this time he was chiefly concerned with the elaboration of a· study of Galileo' s physics and its relation to Plato, Aristotle, and Archimedes. Also, his researches concerning Platonic cosmology led him to nndertake a fresh analysis of the stmcture of Platonic dialogues, in particular the Charmides, Meno, and Pllilebus. But this work was not to 1 �The College be completed till much later. Exile from Germany intervened. On April!, 1938, Jacob Klein arrived in New York. In May, through Paul Weiss of Bryn Mawr College, and Mortimer Adler of the Law School of the University of Chicago, he was put in touch with Scott Buchanan, dean of St. John's College in Annapolis, Maryland. It had been only the year before that Stringfellow Barr and Buchanan had, as Buchanan put it, "taken over this old and decrepit college with a mortgage and other disorganized finances." Buchanan's interest in Klein appears to have been immediate. He explained it in a letter of June ll to a group in New York called the Emergency Committee in Aid of Displaced Scholars: As you may have seen in the papers and magazines, we are installing a four-year program of liberal education in which we are reading the great books from Homer and Euclid to Freud and Russell. A great part of our program deals with the history of mathematics and science, and we are at present working hardest on getting some of the original books translated and organized for pedagogical purposes. Dr. Klein's work in Greek mathematics and in Renaissance science is directly and almost completely comprehensively pertinent. A small grant from the Emergency Committee, finally announced on September 24, after three months of waiting, made possible the appointment of Jacob Klein to the faculty of St. John's College for the academic year 19381939. On May 1, 1939, Buchanan reported to the Emergency Committee that . the arrangement has been more than successful. He [Jacob Klein] has done very important work, both in the very special kind of research which we are doingparticularly in relation to Greek and Renaissance mathematics; also, he has proved to be a very superior teacher, not only of the students but for the rest of the faculty. I think he has been very happy here, and both of us are convinced that he should remain with us as long as we can be of mutual good. St. John's College at this time was going through the pangs of a new birth, the birth of what was then called "the New Program" and later simply "the Program." A conventional elective curriculUm and a conventional departmental arrangement were being dismantled; the attempt was being made to set up an all-required program of studies that would be an appropriate modern replacement for the m.edieval liberal arts curriculum. The dedication to liberal education was to be singleminded; the usual distractions of American collegiate life were to be put aside. Mr. Klein has written of the arduousness and the difficulties of those times: I cannot forget the years when Scott Buchanan and Stringfellow Barr began exploring and erecting the goals of the College with the help of the faculty .... The College grew, slowly and not always in the right 1 · 2 manner, but we saw always the Goal shining before us and demanding severe and grim efforts to be made by all of us. The fact is, however, that the history of those times has never been written; and the records are sparse and the memories evanescent from which such a history could be reconstructed. Still, that Jacob Klein was deeply and energetically involved in the planning and the work is evident enough from the college records. Perhaps most interesting here arc the titles, some of them plain, some of them puzzling, of talks and lectures that he gave from year to year before the college community. On April 10, 1939, during his first year, he and another tutor, Herbert Schwartz, conducted a public qisputation in the Great Hall of the College on "The Active Intellect." During this same year, Mr. Klein gave a series of ten lectures to New Program sophomores on "The History of Algebra" -a series that was repeated with variations in succeeding years and became a tradition. Some of the other titles, with the dates of the lectures through the fall of 1948, are as follows: "Passion, Fate, Knowledge" "How to Read a Newspaper Today" HArithmology" October 25, 1940: ''Descartes" May30, 1941: November 14, 1941: "Greek City, Greek Sky" "Aristotle" February 20, 1942: "System and Matter" April23, 1943: "Geometry" August 13, 1943: Address to the Graduating Class March 14, 1944: 1 "Arithihetic and Geometry'' May 19,1944: "The Quadrivium" July 26, 1944: "Virgil" August ll, 1944: "Quadrivium?'' October ll, 1946: "The Nineteenth Century" May 16, 1947: Commencement Address June 9, 1947: December 12, 1947: "On Nature" "Plato and The Liberal Arts" October 7, 1948: February 9, 1940: May 18, 1940: In July of 1948, the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College approved a sabbatical leave for Mr. Klein for the following academic year. Already in the previous year Barr and Buchanan had left to try, unsuccessfully as the event proved, to establish a sister college in Massachusetts. St. John's and the St. John's program had managed to survive the war, b.ut the financial situation ·of the College remained precarious, and in some of its phases the opera- tion of the program was notably questionable or chaotic. In the middle of the academic year 1948-1949, there came an administrative crisis. Jacob Klein once more found his Platonic studies interrupted; he was called back to the College to become its Acting Dean on January 31, 1949. Acting deanship turned into deanship in September of the same year, directly after Richard D. Weigle became the new president of the College, undertakin& first and fore- �April, 1974 most the arduous and necessary task of putting the finances of the College in order. For nine years thereafter, tiJI July, 1958, Jacob Klein served as dean. It was a period of consolidation, of strong leadership. Nostalgia for a vanished past gave way to a new ethos. The community became aware of itself as having a shaping and stabilizing force at its center. In faculty meetings, in meetings of committees, in official statements of educational policy, above all in lectures to the college community, Jacob Klein articulated, in words that were at once arresting yet simple the meaning and the aim of liberal education. For history's sake, we give the titles of the lectures of those years: "Liberal Education and Liberal Arts" ~~what is a Platonic Dialogue?" January 13, 1950: September 29, 1950: "The Liberal Arts" September 26, 1951: "The Liberal Arts" "The Great Mother and the October 3, 1952: Liberal Arts" (this lecture dealt with Robert Graves' The White Goddess) "The Conservative and the February 15, 1953: Revolutionary" "History and the Liberal Arts" June 5, 1953: "On Tradition" October 2, 1953: May 21, 1954: Aristotle" October l, 1954: "The Liberal Arts and the October 7, 1949: 11 Muses" "The World and the Cave" January 7, 1955: September 30, 1955: "The Liberal Arts and the Problem of Learning" "Plato's Phaedrus" April6, 1956: "The Art of Questioning and October 5, 1956: the Liberal Arts" September 27, 1957: "The Delphic Oracle and the Liberal Arts" Commencement Address June 9, 1958: During these years, the series of lectures on the history of algebra was several times repeated for different classes of sophomores and juniors. Also, a lecture on the Copernican Revolution, first given on April 29, 1949, was repeated for succeeding classes of sophomores. The mere titles, of course, cannot recapture for us the spiritedneSS the imaginative interpretations, the reflective questioning, the unusual insights, the unmistakeably distinctive thrust and direction of thought in these lectures. Nor can they reveal how these characteristics and qualities have fostered and formed the intellectual life of individuals and of the ongoing college community. Another topic should be mentioned here: the evenings for visiting lecturers and faculty, or for faculty and students, at the Klein's home, where Mrs. Klein presided so magisterially and magically over the kitchen and the spicier 1 portions of the conversation, and where all things pertaining to the College and the great world were discussed with the detachment and the freedom that are supposed to characterize the Abbey of The!eme. These are not, and wiJI not be, forgotten. We record here the statement written by Richard Scofield and inserted into the faculty minutes for the meeting of June 2, 1958, the last faculty meeting during Jacob Klein's deanship: The Faculty, acting on the motion of the President, expressed by a standing vote their appreciation of the services to the College of Jacob Klein as Dean during the past nine years, and they wished to have recorded in the minutes a formal statement of their gratitude to him for his guidance in the common task of keeping the program of studies alive and healthy. Beyqnd the call of duty, almost beyond the limits of the possible, he has devoted his time, his energies, his humanity, his great learning and wisdom to the intellectual welfare and the general happiness of the , College community. The academic year 1958-1959 became Jacob Klein's first and indeed only full sabbatical year. He spent it mostly in England, and there made good headway in the writing of a book that he had intended to complete more than two decades previously. The book, bearing the title A Commentary on Plato's Meno, was finished after the return to St. John's, and published by the University of North Carolina Press in 1965. The series of formal lectures to the college community now resumes: October 30, 1959: "The Problem and the Art of March 3, 1961: April 20, 1962: April26, 1963: February 28, 1964: February 12,1965: "Thought, Image, Abstraction" "Aristotle" ''Leibniz" "On the Nature of Nature" "On Dante's Mount of Purgatory" "The Myth of Virgil's Aeneid" Commencement Address ''On Precision" · Commencement Address Writing" February 25, 1966: June 12, 1966: February 23, 1968: June 8, 1969: The 1968-1969 academic year was Mr. Klein's last year of full-time teaching, and at the end of June, 1969, he retired from the faculty after thirty-one years of service. Yet the preceptorials with students go on, and the formal lectures to the college community continue, too: May 20, 1971: October I, 1972: February 23, 1973: May 3, 1974: "About Plato's Philebus" ''Plato's Ion" "Speech, Its Strength and Its Weaknesses" "Plato's Phaedo" 3 1 �The College And this list will be continued. A number of the foregoing lectures have been published: HOn Dante's Mount of Purgation," Cesare Barbieri Courier, Vol. VII, No.2 (Trinity College, Hartford, Conn., 1965) "The Myth of Virgil's Aeneid," Interpretation, Vol. 2, Issue I ( 1971 ) "About Plato's Philebus," Interpretation, Vol. 2, Issue 3 (1972) "Plato's Ion," Claremont Journal of Public Affairs, Vol. 2, No. l (1973) The following lectures and essays have appeared in a St. John's publication, The College: "The Problem of Freedom" (December, 1969) "On Precision" (October, 1971) "Discussion as a Means of Teaching and Learning" (December, 1971) "Speech, its Strength and its Weaknesses" (July, 1973) Other of Mr. Klein's published writings include: "Phenomenology and the History of Science," in Philosophical Essays in Memory of Edmund HusserI ( ed. Marvin Farber; Harvard University Press, I 940) !'Aristotle, An Introduction," in Ancients and Mod- erns, Essays on the Tradition of Political Philosphy in Honor of Leo Strauss (Basic Books, Inc., 1964) "On Liberal Education," in The Bulletin of the Asso· ciation of American Colleges, Vol. 52, No. 2 (Washington, D. C., 1966) "A Note on Plato's Parmenides," in Orbis Scriptus: Dimitrij Tscl1iiewskij zum 70. Geburtstag (Miinchen: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1966) Lectures already printed for use within the college community, and others yet to come, will one day be collected and published in a volume for a wider circle of readers. For over three and a half decades Jacob Klein has devoted himself with singular intensity and with singular clarity of purpose to the teaching and learning at St. John's College. For some of us who have come to the College, his teaching has had much or all to do with the definition of liberal education and of our lives. Our debt is an exquisite burden that we happily bear, knowing what it is ours to do: the conserving of a tradition of responsible, radical inquiry; the carrying on, most seriously and most playfully, of the art of questioning; the obeying so far as we individually can of the Delphic Oracle's enigmatic behest; the careful and intent following of Ariadne's thread, the conversation that concerns the soul's good. In diverse and modest ways the essays which follow take up this task. CuRTIS A. WILSON Dean St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland March 3, 1974 4 Here follow the contents of: ESSAYS IN HONOR OF JACOB KLEIN As Presented to him on the Occasion of his Seventy-fifth Birthday Introductory Letter by Richard D. Weigle Preface by Curtis Wilson Contributors Douglas Allanbrook ...... Study in Black and White (for harpsichord). Robert Bart .. The Shepherd and the Wolf: On the First Book of Plato's Republic. Seth Benardete .......... Euripides' Hippolytus. Laurence Berns .... Rational Animal-Political Animal: Nature and Convention in Human Speech and Politics. .An Appreciation of Kant's Eva Brann Critique of Pure Reason: An Introduction for Students. Anne Buchanan Crosby ... Eight Sketches. Robert A. Goldwin ...... The State of Nature in Political Society. .. Plato in Hermann Cohen's Simon Kaplan Philosophy of Judaism. . Mythos and Logos. John S. Kieffer . The Source of the Source of Samuel S. Kutler . the Dedekind Cut. David R. Lachterman . . . Self-hood and Self-Consciousness: An lnq~iry into Kantian Themes. Margaret W. Rattner .... Politics and the Constitution. Beate Ruhm von Oppen .. Bach's Way with Words. Robert Sacks .... Ptolemy as a Teacher. Richard Scofield .... The Christian Phaedra or Farewell to Tragedy. J. Winfree Smith ........ "Watchman, What of the Night?" Brother Robert Smith Lear and the Story of Eden. Leo Strauss . . ...... On Plato's Apology of Socrates and Crito. Robert B. Williamson .... Eidos and Agatlwn in Plato's Republic. Curtis Wilson ... Newton and the Eotvos Experiment. Elliott Zuckerman . . Four Sketches for a Study of Prosody. Editorial Board: Samuel S. Kutler, Chairman Eva Brann Robert B. Williamson J. Winfree Smith Elliott Zuckerman �The Poet of the Odyssey by Eva Brann 1. On Seeing Homer Epic is that kind of poetry-as distinguished from lyric and epic poetry, the poetry of the lyre and of actionwhich is particularly named after the word, for epos means the word as uttered in speech or song. Hence in reading the Homeric epics we certainly should, in addition to attending to the tale told, listen closely to the sound itself of the utterance. Let me give two examples of what the sound of the word may reveal. First, an example of listening for meter: At the beginning of the Odyssey, Zeus speaks, because He thought in his heart of blameless Aegistheus. In Greek: a mnesato I gar kata I thymon I mymiinos I ATgis I thoio (I 29). Notice that the fifth foot is not a dactyl (- ••) but a spondee (--). Now it is a rule of the epic hexameter line, rather rarely broken, that the fifth foot, at least, must be dactylic. In this line, therefore, the very name of the murderous shirker who together with treacherous Clytemnestra turned Agamemnon's return into an ambush 7 a vile fact which forms the background of the Odyssey, does violence to that stately cadence of the epic meter, making it unnatural, heavy, and misshapen. Second, an example of listening for words: When Achilles grieves for the death of his dearest friend, Patroclus, whom he had sent into battle in his own stead he cries: Him have I lost. But if we listen to the Greek words-ton apolesa (I1. XVIII 82), we will hear a second, equally possible, meaning, ominous and enlightening: Him have I killed! Nevertheless what I want to say here will derive more from sight than from sound. The a"cient conviction that Homer was blind is surely a consequence of the special_ place that sight holds in his poetry, a recognition of its preternatural visual intensity. But we can go further; we can say that both the Iliad and the Odyssey depend crucially on vision, on allowing the words to build a visible world in which the inner events of the epic suddenly appear. Let me now give an example of what the sight behind the word may reveal: Achilles the swift is pursuing a dazed and bemused This article Is adapted from a formal lecture presented at the An· napolis campus on Friday, October 6, 1972. Hector around the walls of Troy (Il. XXII !22 ff.). They run in agonizing slow motion,, three times round as in a dream, and the fastest man. on earth cannot catch his much more solid, slower quarry. Finally Hector breaks the eternity of this pursuit and stands, facing about. What does Achilles, what do the spectators see? They see Achilles facing Achilles, for Hector is wearing Achilles' old armour, striped from Patroclus' corpse (XXII 323). Greek armour covers practically the whole man; a Greek in battle is an armoured effigy. The antagonist that Achilles so viciously hurls at is himself, the old Achilles before Patroclus' death, before his dreadful apotheosis, when he was still a man among men. Yet this crucial sight, the most revealing vision of the Iliad, is not told directly in words but only prepared through them. So there exists a second epic realm "behind" the epic lines, a world swirling wit\! ironic double visions, significant glances, tactful asides, mysterious smiles, meaningful gestures, awesome scenes. So, for example, Achilles, even as he sits stubbornly by his tents, is given his usual epithet "swift in his feet" (Il. IX 196). For we are to see him swift and sedentary at once. And there is a similar irony in calling the villainous Aegistheus "blameless." So Odysseus delivers Agamemnon's conciliatory message to the offended Achilles exactly as given, except that Homer paints in a revealing gesture. For he makes Odysseus repeat the king's oath that he has never been to bed with Achilles' girl, " ... as is the rule among mankind, men or women ... /'with a deep obeissance: '' ... as is the rule, my lord, of men and women ..." (Il. IX 134, 276). So Telemachus, wide-eyed but adroit, compares Menelaus' palace to Olympus in a stage whisper, bending toward his friend with ostentatious reticence (Od. IV 74); so he persuades this same friend, Nestor's youngest son, who conveys his perfect understanding with a glance, to allow him to board boat homeward without a farewell call on old Nestor who will talk on and on; so Odysseus, as indulgent glances pass between him and Nausicaa's parents, takes the blame for her charmingly over-discreet lack of hospitality (Od. VII 303). There is no end to such examples. Here, then, is a world of crucial sights for the eye, which, however, arise from the stately, artificial tongue of the Homeric epic, a language especially well fitted to conspire with the poet to produce this inexhaustible store of paraphenomena. For just as the subtleties of human intercourse are best entrusted to sedate ceremony in life, so a fixed, formulaic language seems best for conveying its intricacies in poetry. And more particularly, the well- 5 �The College burnished epic idiom appears especially to invite a lively complement of images. I hope now to make explicita part of this implicit, complementary world. Yet that will be more a task in what I might call "perceiving" the epics than in interpreting them. TI1is latter task is much harder, if it is possible at all, and it can only be undertaken on the premise that poetry contains something intended for truth, and that behind the realms of uttered word and imaginative sight there is yet a third world of truth into which the former realms lead. I shall try somewhat to interpret one of the epics, the Odyssey-yet very cautiously, because I wish to avoid a certain kind of irresponsibility which that poem particularly induces in interpreters. I will give an example. Odysseus is shut up for seven years by the nymph Calypso, whose name means, "She Who Covers." She lives on an island in the navel of the sea "in hollow caves, longing for him to beher husband:" en spessi glaphyroisi, lilaiomene posin einai (I 15), as the bewitchingly slippery Greek goes. Now a cave, it is sometimes said, is a womb, and Odysseus' painful escape from its timeless moist comfort is a second birth. But is this "interpretation" not itself a metaphor, and should the interpreter of poetry himself ply poetry? I think not. It seems to me that 'interpretations of poetry should be soberly prosaic, and should not represent the poet as having proposed fantasies which no sane adult can credit. For poetry begins in marvelling, and no one can marvel at the incredible. finds an Achilles who, at intervals, familiarly addr~sses the dead (XXIII 19, 105), and in whose precincts the body of Hector lies for many days mysteriously uncorrupted (XXIV 420). Achilles, whose home is Pthia (IX 363), which means the "Perishing Land," must appear to Priam -and to us-to sit in the somber splendor of underworldly state, the potentate of a premature, above-ground hell, who harbours not only the souls but also the bodies of the dead. We shall see this same dread being, who dominates the end of the Iliad, once more, at the center of the Odyssey. Reciprocally there is established within the Iliad, as Achilles' particular foil and counterpart, the man who will give his name to the Odyssey, a poem which begins with the word "man," as the Iliad begins with the word "wrath" -menis in Greek. For as Achilles' being is concentrated in a passion, so Odysseus is a man "of many turns/' polytropos, a man of craft-metis in Greek. · These two have had their royal quarrels (Od. VIII 75), but they are ultimately bound rather than divided by being in that peculiarly intimate opposition of extreme and mean .which is embodied in their spatial position in camp, where Achilles' boats 'are beached at one far-out wing, while Odysseus' little fleet is drawn up in the very middle of the Greeks (Il.XI6). Homer has put their comparison in Odysseus' own mouth (Il. XIX 216). It is short, but may be adumbrated as follows: Everything about Achilles is young, brief, brave, brilliant, somber, .swift, abrupt, unwise, grave; he is in essence short-lived; "minute-lived" (minynthadios) is his proper 2. Achilles and Odysseus By way of beginning let me paint one more picture from the Iliad. Achilles the truthful, for whom a liar is "as hateful as the gates of Hades" (IX 312), knows something which dominates all his doings, a knowledge so painful that he lies about it even to his friend Patroclus and only old Nestor guesses what has happened (XVI 51, XI 794): his mother has told Achilles plainly and finally how "shortlived," how "swift-fated," he is to be (I 416, XVIII 95). So, once Patroclus, his deputy in death, is gone, Achilles is not longer quite among the mortals, but both above and below them: in battling for his friend's corpse, he who has fed on the immortals' food, on ambrosia (XIX 347), is like a divine, an Olympian, being, while when he fights Hector he is like a beast, a lion or a wolf who could feed on Hector's raw flesh (XXII 262, 347). But when the battle is burnt out and he returns to his tent, he becomes yet something else, a being which Agamemnon had detected in him earlier..:..he assumes the part of Hades, the ruler of the underworld (IX !58). Let me set the scene. The god who conducts the dead to the underworld across the river Styx is Hermes. Now Priam, who comes by night to beg for his son Hector's body, is brought to Achilles' abode by Hermes who awaits him by the river (XXIV 353). The garments which Priam brings with him are white, the Greek color of mourning (XXIV 231). He 6 term. Odysseus is of an older generation (II. XXIII 790), short-legged-dignified while seated in council, but squat on his feet, as the Trojans have observed (Il. III 2ll); a wrestler (II. XIII 710, Od. IV 343 and VIII 230), not a runner, except once, and then away from battle (Il. VII 95); given to cunning clowning on occasion (II. X 254 ff., Od. XIV 462 ff.); a clever speaker, endlessly resourcGful, who is used on every misSion or embassy: to enter Troy as negotiator or as spy (Il. Ill 206, Od. IV 246), to fetch Achilles for the Trojan expedition (Il. XI 767), to return the captured girl Briseis to her father (Il. I 3ll), and finally, to attempt-fateful failure-to bring Achilles back into battle (Il. IX 180). And he has staying power-he ever refuses to leave precipitously (Il. II 169, Od. Ill 163) and he, not Achilles, sees the war to its conclusion by means of the well-disciplined strategem of the wooden horse. ( Od. IV 270 and VIII 502). The words that belong to Odysseus are "much" and "many" (poly and polJa). Lis teo to the first lines of his own epic and hear how these words sound at once the seasputtering accusation against Poseidon's name and the Greek cry of pain popoi: Andra moi enncpe, mousa, polytropon, hos mala polla plangthe, epei Troics hieron ptoliethron epersen. pollon d'anthropon iden astea kai noon egno, �April, 1974 polla d'ho g'en pontoi pathen algea hon kata thymon. In snm, as Achilles' life is concentrated in camp, so Odysseus' life extends beyond, into peace. Perhaps nothing brings this out better than the names of their only sons. Achilles' son, who comes to Troy after him, is called Neoptolemns (II. XIX 327), the "New Warrior," while Odysseus' son, who awaits him at home, is called Telemachus, "Far-from-Battle."' It is a significant touch that in the Iliad, Odysseus assumes for himself the appellation of "Father of Telemachus" (II 260 IV 354), as if to show where his heart lies. Now every characteristic anecdote, every revealing story of Odysseus in the Iliad has, as the references above show, its deliberate counterpart in the Odyssey, just as the underworld Achilles who will appear in the Odyssey is prefigured in the Iliad. The two epics belong together not only as the natural sequence of "War and Peace" -to give them a joint title taken from their one and only rival work-but as the two elements of a sight seen in the Iliad: Achilles bearing before him on his new shield-the shield Odysseus is to inherit (Od. XI 546)-the dancing and battling cities and the encircling Ocean of the Odyssey (XII 478 ff.). The world of Odysseus is, at it were, supported by Achilles. I shall return to this observation later. 3. The cheating myths I shall begin with the second half of the Odyssey. No sooner has Odysseus arrived back home in Ithaca than he begins to give various accounts of himself and his trip. He tells five such stories (XIII 256, XIV 199, XVII 419, XIX I 72, XXIV 303), of which only one single one, the last, told to his father as an afterthought, is clearly, though cleverly, concocted. The other four, in spite of certain tongue-in-cheek touches, shine with verisimilitude, and, in- deed, everyone finds them plausible. To be sure, Odysseus' own annouricement of Odysseus' imminent return is sceptically received, but on the part of one listener, at least, this disbelief is, as we shall see, pretended. Only Athena, the first to hear one of these accounts, exposes them. Told to her they are indeed j~lying lore/' or ''tricky tales," or "cheating .myths" (XIII 295), for she knows, as we shall see, the still deeper truth of the matter. The longest of these tricky tales is told to Eumaios, Odysseus' faithful swineherd (XIV 199). It goes like this: The teller is a nameless Cretan bastard who enjoys war and seafaring, and who, on returnirig from service in Troy, sets out fcir Egypt to find a fortune. There his men, drunk and out of control, attempt an incursion on the locals and are routed. The narrator himself seeks protection from the Egyptian king, stays to live with him for seven years, and is then persuaded by a cunning Phoenician to come to stay with him also for one year. This Phoenician later causes the Cretan to boaril a boat which is ostensibly conveying cargo to Libya but is in fact carrying orders to sell him as a slave. They are shipwrecked and he, riding the mast, is driven to the Thesprotians on the north-western . Greek mainland. Here he hears of Odysseus, who has gone to the famous nearby oracle of Dodona to seek advice concerning his return. They promise the Cretan passage but, once on board, strip him of his goods and bind him. He escapes while they are having supper in Ithaca, and hides in a thicket, Each of the four tales is different, but the same thread runs through all of them. TI1e teller is a Cretan. The Cretans were the famous seafarers and the infamous liars of antiquity. This Cretan has sailed to all the far-flung Mediterranean ports of call-Cyprus, Libya, Egypt-and has had . much commerce with the Phoenicians, the shippers and conveyers of that sea. Now 1 claim that distributed through these cheating myths are the facts of the voyages of Odysseus-that he has really spent the last ten years in these places. It is at the least plausible to think so. He must have been somewhere on earth or sea in those lost years. But no candid adult will claim that he was in fact with the giants, nymphs, and witches that people those adventures of his which I shall call "the odyssey proper," meaning the travels which belong peculiarly to Odysseus. Therefore we must think that he was with those Cretans, Egyptians, and Phoenicians who in fact people the Mediterranean sea, among whom he has in fact been reported seen (XIV 382), and who keep coming to his mind when he is obliged to give an account of himself. This is, after all, precisely where Menelaus went, who having been driven off course at ,the same place as Odysseus, took his ships to all these ports, and especially to Egypt, in search of gold (III 301, IV 83). So it is clear what Odysseus was doing-no man was ever more prudent about worldly things, more greedy for goods, to put it plainly, and less likely to he willing to return profitless from Troy, or to assume beggary except as an ironic guise. He does, in fact, return a rich man, and "Save my things, save me," is the merchant-like orde.r of his prayer to Athena (XIII 230). Furthermore, not only does a young Phaeacian contemptuously describe him as looking like a . huckster (VIII 163), hut he in fact has' the versatility appropriate to an "operator": he is a skillful servant by grace of Hermes (XV 321 ), a useful consultant and an enchanting raconteur with the polish of a professional minstrel-at least his swineherd thinks so (XVI 521). And finally, is it not curious how Homer himself says in the third line of the Odyssey that Odysseus saw the cities of many men, while the adventures of the odyssey proper are ma'inly about the islands of single women? Now of these odyssean adventures, as opposed to the factual accounts, only one single one ever comes to the ears of the known world while Odysseus is yet lost. It is reported by Athena to Telemachus in a prototypical cheating myth (in which she tactfully turns the seductive nymph into "rough men" [I 198]) as well as by Proteus to Menelaus (IV 557), and by Telemachus to Penelope (XVII 143) that Odysseus is, for the duration, with Calypso, with her whose name signifies oblivion. That is 7 �The College to say, throughout Greece Odysseus is reported missing- sions of occurrences which by their radiance invite interpre- the "stormy snatchers" have swept him away, ''out of tation. Such versions are here called adventures: The adventures of Odysseus' odyssey are the truths of his travels. This amounts to the provoking assertion that the realm of the imagination is closer t.o the world of truth than the sight and out of hearing" (I 242). The other places and beings of the odyssey proper are made known to no one, not even on Odysseus' first return. Instead, the cheating myths allude to the adventu.res (IXXII) in parallels and coincidences. For instance: the drunk attack on the Egyptians in the cheating myth is a parallel to the Ciconion adventure; the seven years with the king of Egypt are coextensive with the time given to Calypso, and the year with the Phoenician coincides with the year assigned to Circe; the Thesprotians and Phoenicians are, like the Phaeachms, people that give passage. In both the cheating myths and the adventures there are shipwrecks and lonely survivals riding on mast or keel, oracles consulted, whether Dodona or Teiresias, passages promised, thickets for hiding. These coincidences reveal how the cheating myths and the adventures are related to each other. As the notorious "Cretan 'liar paradox" of logic arises when a Cretan claims that all Cretans are liars-upon which his speech cannot be called either true or false-so Odysseus, who is shamelessly careless about harmonizing his various accounts or hiding his embroideries, can hardly be said to tell true or false. The essentially prosaic lying tales are neither true or false-they are, as I said, mere fact. Odysseus expresses his contempt for fact, for the publicly accessible, dull, daily labors of life, by making his accounts precise but not uniquely exact; they express what might-obnoxiouslybe called "reality in general." They are a tissue of facts. What I mean is this: Anyone who travels in truth, trav- world of "reality." 4. The odyssey So then, for instance, in Egypt, a source of narcotics (IV 228), where in fact the inhabitants drug themselves at their feasts by sniffing the lotus flower, some of Odysseus' men are evidently induced to "experiment"-this is trans- figured by Odysseus into that perilous venture into the state of irresponsible forgetfulness and loss of purpose which he tells of as the Land of the Lotus Eaters (IX 84 ). So Odysseus comes upon one of a tribe of troglodytes, staring, blinkered, and depthless of vision, who are without cities 1 assemblies 1 laws, commerce, or true communication. Him Odysseus recognizes as a Cyclops, a single-eyed "Circle Eye," who does not know the power of words (IX 112). For example, Odysseus has told him that he is called "No-one," and the Cyclops after having been blinded by Odysseus, in turn uncomprehendingly repeats to his neighbours that "No-one" has hurt him, so that they leave him without help. Similarly he misses the second meaning and warning contained in Odysseus' anonymous name, a warn- ing which Odysseus himself explains on a later occasion (XX 20): A parallel form of outis, the Greek word for "no-one," is metis; but metis is also Odyssyus' word, the word for wisdom and craft, so that Odysseus has named himself to the giant Cyclops as his foil in craft and civili- els twice. First, he flees home, accomplishing an itinerary, zation. to which belong charter groups, terminals, hotels, sightseeing excursions, transportation. These are the facts, or if you like, the prose of the trip, boring at best, sometimes So, again, they come to a place where Odysseus' swilling and gorging men make pigs of themselves and become like animals; this reveals itself to Odysseus as the power of 'even hazardous, and these, in their trying indifference, are Circe, the "Circle Woman" who turns unmanly men into soon confused, forgotten, perhaps reinvented. But behind the facts of companions, locale, and transportation there are the places and voyages of the soul seeking home, those pigs, while he masters her by attacking her, sword before him, and armed with Hermes' herb, surely an aphrodisiac (X 321). Note that Odysseus understands all his men's desires as the appetite for food and drink-in his report they even eat the lotus which the Egyptians sniff. With respect to himself, on the other hand, Odysseus transforms his sojourns among men (the Egyptian king, the Phoeni- presences and appearances, those fragrant essences, which come as much from, as to the imagination-the sights which are seen by the soul, not the eyes. These are the truths, or, if you like, the poetry, of our travels, for which the facts-some, not all-were only the occasion. So while a shabby, mendaciously factual Cretan Odysseus is collecting loot in Egypt and Phoenicia, and Odysseus of, as we shall see, inore splendid stature is on a different voyage, a voyage of true nostalgia (literally: "return ache"), on which he sees, as can only a man whose strongest roots are at home (IX 34), the truths of alien people and places. When I say he "sees their truths" I mean, then, that certain appropriate factual occasions of his travels form themselves for him into cogent and brilliant events which, although they live only for and by the imagination, are yet more capable of carrying a meaning than are the mere facts. By the poetic truths of events I therefore mean those vcr- 8 cian trader) into encounters with women-a marvelous touch! One more interpretation: somewhere on his travels Odysseus hears a kind of poet,y, debilitating and corrupting, in which all the toils of Troy are turned into melodrama and sentiment. He listens ravished and yet with reservation and resistance. He is in truth hearing the Song of the Sirens (XII 184). And so, further, the truth of the whole progress of his seafaring is that it is a road into oblivion along which he divests himself not undeliberately of the attendance of his men-even recklessly, as his lieutenant claims (X 436). For he brings them into places and temptations with which �April, 1974 they cannot cope and leaves them on their own at crucial moments, or, in the terms of the adventures, he falls into a deep sleep. This is the sleep in which he lies when they let out upon themselves the winds which Odysseus had had, so to speak, "in the bag," and again when they ravenously fall on the Sacred Cattle of the Sun and by eating them bring final destruction on themselves (X 31, XII 338). As Athena says, using the same equivocal word as did Ac)1illes concerning Patroclus: " ... I knew in my heart that you would return having lost (or equally: having destroyed) all your comrades" (XIII 340). According to the fourth line of the Odyssey, Odysseus strives to gain "his soul and the return of his comrades;" the odyssey proper shows that these two purposes are incompatible. A sufficient interpretation of the Odyssey would offer a coherent fabric of truth-behind-fact woven out of all the adventures. I shall attend in some detail only to two of them. I shall begin with the last, the twelfth sea-adventure, Odysseus' stay on the Island of the Phaeacians. 5. The twelfth adventure . . Phaeacia, which means the "Radiant Land," is the place of the first telling of the "odyssey proper." The man who made the odyssey, which is in Greek as much as to say the poet of the odyssey, is Odysseus, who recounts his voyages, truthful!y, artfully, and in well-rounded order, beginning and ending with Calypso (IX-XII). Phaeacia is therefore the place where the odyssey is composed, where the seaadventures-''experiences," as we would say-are given shape, put into words. Thus Alcinous, the Phaeacian king, interrupts the telling of that adventure of adventures, the voyage to Hades, to exclaim that Odysseus does not seem "a cheat and a dissembler" who "fashions lies out of what No-one has ever seen," and he marvels at Odysseus' ''shape- lin\'SS of words" -morphe cpeon, at his epic form (XI 367). Here, as Odysseus steps on land, Poseidon gives up Odysseus, sputtering his dismissal in his own version of the fourth line of the Odyssey: Houto nyn kaka pella pathon aloo kata ponton. So now, having suffered many evils, wander on over the sea! (V377) And here Athena, for the first time in ten years, again appears to Odysseus (XIII 318). That is as much as to say that the formless element, the sea of troubles and boredom which surrounds the islands of adventure and delight, persecuting as it conveys, now recedes in favor of craft, clarity, and composition. For this radiant country is a land of luxury and lyre, of dances and baths, of near-animate works of art (such as candelabras in the shape of golden youths and gold-andsilver dogs), of perpetually blooming orchards, of magnificent architecture, and cunning tapestries (VII-VIII). And the Phaeacians have poetry-wonderful, irreverent comedy (VIII 266) and heart-rending melodrama of the siren sort, which makes Odysseus weep like a woman (VIII 523). They are, moreover, a folk which regards all the present pains of mankind as sent by the gods for the sole purpose of being turned into song for those to come (VIII 580) -aesthetes, we would say. The Phaeacians have. been removed from Hyperia-the "Beyond Land," where they suffered from the crude strength of the Hyperian Cyclopses, to Scheria-the "Cutoff Land" (VI 4, 8). In this country they live in detached elevation-they have no enemies and yet they do not love strangers (VII 32), but are intimate only with the gods (VII 205). Nevertheless their vocation is to give passage, to convey-we would say: to "communicate"-and the spirit-like nature of what they convey is shown in their ships, which are swift as thought and governed by thought (VII 36, VIII 559). Of course they pray to Hermes the Interpreter and Conveyer (VII 137). In this resort, in this-I will say it-in this artists' colony, Odysseus becomes a poet. Here he frequently expresses his love for singers (VIII 487, IX 3), and here he himself sings. It seems very appropriate that this is the only adventure which is reported directly by the poet of the greater Odyssey, by Homer himself. Odysseus is conveyed out of Phaeacia, where dreams are given shape in comfort, to rocky Ithaca with his treasure of tales while lying, as he is wont to at crucial moments, in a Hermetic sleep much like death (XIII 80). And Poseidon, the god of untiring formlessness, in revenge covers, (literally "calypsoes"), the sea exit of the odyssey forever (VIII 569). There will be no second such epic. Odysseus is received into "reality" by Athena who, in a transport of affection, apostrophizes her Odysseus as cunning, dissembling, bold, brilliant in craft, insatiate in tricks, and as a man who will not leave off cheating myths and deceits (XIII 293). The man who was praised for his truths in Phaeacia, the land of poetry, becomes a mere liar in rocky Ithaca. 6. The middle adventure Phaeacia is the place in which Odysseus found himself able to shape his trip into poetry, to give it form. Is there a place whence the substance or matter of poetry is particularly derived, a bourn and source of poetry? If it can be shown, as. I hope to do later, that there is in fact a thirteenth adventure, then the seventh adventure becomes in humber what it is in truth-the central event of the odyssey, the one which earns Odysseus-one time only in all the epic-the appellation "hero" (X 516). This seventh adventure is Odysseus' voyage to the mouth of the Land of the Dead (X), to Hades, the underworld at the extremes of the earth and sea, which is to he reached only by ship (XI 159). Odysseus has been sent there particularly for the pupose of consulting the oracle of Teiresias on his return (X 492). He is indeed told of its stations and hazards, but the management of his reinstatement in Ithaca is, significantly, left in his own hands. In addition Teiresias utters that strange prescription which orders Odysseus to 9 �The College leave Ithaca once more, promptly after regaining home, in order to march inland, an oar on his shoulder, until he shall come to a place where that oar shall be taken for a farmer's tool. There he is to plant it in the ground, and then he may feel assured of a gentle death, late and far from the sea (XI 135). The meaning of this planted oar is that it is a sailor's grave. This is pointedly shown by the form of the burial, a mound with an oar stuck on top, which the company gives that drunk young fool Elpenor who anticipates Odysseus' ship in Hades by falling off a roof and breaking his neck (XII 15). Odysseus' oar will, of course, mark a cenotaph, an empty tomb, just such a tomb as Telemachus has promised to make for him, should he remain lost at sea (II 222). This inland ceremony is a necessary and fitting aftermath and conclusion to the odyssey, for as Circe says with awe, Odysseus is "twice dead" (XII 22)-twice dead as he is twice traveled-and therefore owes himself a burial, a false tomb far inland, remote from the sea that hates and drives him. But the business on which he has come takes only the briefest time. His stay is really otherwise occupied: In Hades Odysseus is instructed in the myths of the Greekshere he becomes learned in the matter of poetry. Here he learns the tragedies of Agamemnon and Oedipus; here he is told the tales of Minos, Tantalus, Sisyphus, Heracles. Here at the center of the center of the Odyssey come forth all the women of Greece in their grandeur, among them two who have slept with gods but kept faith with their husbands, Tyro and Alcmcne, to whom his own wife has already been favorably compared (II 120). (At this point in his tale Queen Arete, grateful for his praise of women, charmingly interrupts to praise Odysseus, not indeed for his tale-but for his beauty and ·size [XI 337]). ·But as king and mighty ruler of the dead (XI 485), here as in life, comes Achilles, inconsolable at his state- he would rather be a slave on earth than the king of the dead. Odysseus, a passing visitor in Achilles' very own realm, comforts him a little with a good report of his son the New Warrior, Neoptolemus. Achilles as the most ghostly of the' dead, as Hades' deadest denizen, dominates this world. All that come to tell their tales to Odysseus are sou1spsychai (X 530)-which means, in Greek, "cold breaths," spirits, bodiless and bloodless. Hades is the repository of shades, that is to say, of the ghosts of the past, of beings of memory. Of themselves these are impotent, unable on their part to see the living, and like dreams, impalpable (XI 29, 143, 207). It is Odysseus who gives or refuses these schemata presence by refusing or giving them blood (XI 147). It is Odysseus who gives flesh and blood to memories, which are the substance and matter of poetry. Odysseus' central adventure is his voyage to the bounding flux which surrounds and delimits our world of bodily sights, a voyage of recollection to those remote recesses of memory where lives our common past, the dead whose stories have been canonized into myths. In Hades Odysseus is initiated into the lore which is the matter of poetry. 10 7. The thirteenth adventure Everywhere people are talking of the "returns," the nostoi, of the Greek contingent from Troy. The minstrel sings of them in Ithaca and Aeolus wants to hear about them on his floating island (I 326, X 14). One such return is famous, or infamous, above the rest-that of Agamem· non, king of Greek kings, foully murdered on his return to Mycenae by Aegisthus and his treacherous wife Clytemnestra. Zeus tells of it on Olympus, Nestor tells Telemachus in Pylus, Menalaus in Sparta, and Agamemnon himself tells Odysseus in Hades (I 36, III 264, IV 518, XI 412). But there is another return which is much spoken of because it is yet outstanding- Odysseus' own. Moreover, the former stands ·behind and informs the latter. Telemachus, on his trip in search of his father, never forgets that other, avenging, son, Orestes (I 298, III 203), while Odysseus' own homecoming is colored by the murdered king's advice in Hades: "Therefore do not you yourself ever be gentle to your wife, and do not tell her the whole tale which you know, but tell her some, and keep some hidden" (XI 442). . Consequently Odysseus returns filled with suspicion, which is confirmed by Athena's similar, albeit less partial, advice to "tell no man or woman" of his return (XIII 308). And although in Hades Penelope's own mother:in-law, Odysseus' mother Anticleia, has already declared to him Penelope's constancy (XI 217), Penelope herself behaves deviously enough to justify Odysseus' reserved behavior. The house is full of wooers, daily wined and dined, to whom she sends messages and promises, and among whom she has favorites (XIII 381, XVI 397). The fact, then, of Odysseus' retutn is that he slips back . late, slow, suspicious, and incognito, outwits Penelope's wooers by gaining possession of his old powerful weapon, the great bow, makes a blood bath among them and those servant girls who follow them, and only then, having repossessed his hall, reveals to his wife who he is. : But the truth of his return, which turns it into a thirteenth adventure by giving it the sheen of a high tension is this: Those two, Odysseus and Penelope, recognize and know each other from the moment he enters his home, and . proceed to act out a charged, subtle farce, worthy of the complex nature commOn to them, in which poetry and prudence are intertwined by means of a high craft. Their object is to know the truth about each other. The way the evidence for this situation mounts is a _model of Homeric ·subtlety. Let me set it out. Penelope, whose epithet is "the circumspect" (periphron), would be unlikely to fail 'to notice what it plain to everyone else. Telemachus has returned from his trip suddenly bearded (XVIII 176) and a man, and for the first time certain that he is the son of a father he has never seen (XV 267). This certainty comes to him first in Sparta where he arrived at the delicate moment of her daughter's wedding to be immediately recognized .by the aging but still uncanny Helen,· who sees in him the father she had �April, 1974 evidently known very intimately (IV 143, 250). With this image before her, how could Penelope herself miss the original? Then also, signs and portents announcing her husband's return have mounted: an old oracle, claiming that Odysseus would return in the twentieth year of his absence, is revived; a strange sooth-.sayer, Theoclymenus, suddenly comes on the scene for no other purpose but to announce the return; the swineherd Eumaius has repeated to her Odysseus'. cheating myth, according to which he is even now in Ithaca. Moreover it is now or never that Odysseus must return to her, since he himself has told her to re-marry at the appearance of Telemachus' beard (II 170, XVII 157, 527, XVIII 270). Accordingly she presses her son for the results of his trip in curiously assured terms. She had, she says, despaired of ever seeing Telemachus again when he had gone off after tidings of his father. And she continues: "But come, give me an account of how you came face to face with the sight of him" (XVII 44). Telemachus, who has promised his father secrecy, is clumsily evasive. It is clear that she is, at the very least, highly expectant. Odysseus comes into his hall from the pig farm where he has revealed himself to his son in glory (XVII 264 ff.). Now Odysseus has a property familiar in people of temperament and mobility of soul: his stature changes with the occasion, or as Homer put it, he is frequently-four times in Ithaca-transformed by Athena, twice from his native radiance to an equally congenital shabbiness, twice the reverse (XIII 429, XVI 172,456, XXIII 156). He comes in the shape he assumed for his cheating myths: his frame shriveled, a worn and weary, aging, balding, beggary huckster. Argos, his ancient hound, hears him and gladly expires. Odysseus refuses to be presented to Penelope. She is at once collected and hysterical, twice laughs "a meaningless laugh" (XVIII 163), and falls into a relaxed sleep, is herself bea)ltified by Athena, and immediately goes before the wooers to announce herself ready for remarriage and to ask for gifts. Odysseus is deeply satisfied with her strategem. That evening, after Telemachus has gone to sleep, Penelope descends and, blooming in beauty like two goddesses, sits on a throne to interview Odysseus. And now begins a curious, teasing, allusive conversation (XIX 104 ff). Odysseus asks her not to question him " ... lest you fill my heart with many sorrows ..."' (XIX 1!7). Now the Greek here for "sorrows" is odynaon, a word which sounds in Odysseus' own name; so for instance, he sits on Calypso's isle "sorrowing fOdysseus-like] for his return" (noston odyromenos, V 153). He is audibly naming himself to her. Next he tells a cheating myth, shamelessly different from the one the swineherd has already repeated to her. In this story he calls himself Aethon (XIX 183), the "Burnished or Shining One," the splendid Odysseus he is not now but can expect to be when his moment comes. By presenting himself as a Cretan who left home again a mere month after his return from Troy, Odysseus immediately insinuates the uncomfortable fact that he himself is not yet home to stay: that there is one more absence in store for his wife. As this Cretan he claims to have seen Odysseus twenty years ago and, laughably, describes in detail a brooch he then wore. He also claims that. Odysseus is now near home. She, playing the sceptic, says (and from now on she keeps speaking in this equivocal way): "Neither will. Odysseus come nor will you be conveyed hence . . . " and "Him will I never receive home again ..." (XIX 257, 313). These statements hold, of course, equally if the man before her is Odysseus. Then she tells Odysseus' old nurse: "Corne arise, wise Euryclea, and wash your master's ..."-she turns the order to wash her master's feet into: " ... your master's contemporary's feet" (XIX 358). Euryclea, who has immediately seen whom the stranger resembles, discovers the scar on his leg. Homer takes time out to tell the story of the scar, acquired by Odysseus as he climbed Parnassus, the Muses' mountain, on a boar hunt, and of the naming of Odysseus by his grandfather Autolycus. That famous thief, liar, and misanthrope insisted on calling Anticlea's baby "Odysseus," the "Hated One," or better the "Object of Wrath," as in the verb odys~omai, "I am wroth" (XIX 4407), a meaning alluded to by Athena when she asks Zeus about Odysseus in these terms: "Why are you so very wroth with him?"-ti ny hoi toson odysao? (I 62). The scar goes with his name as his ·signature, and, in fact, the Greek word for scare, oule, is to be heard in a dialect version of his name, Ulysses (Oulixeos). Scars and persecution, especially at sea, characterize the Odysseus of the cheating mythsthe prosaic Odysseus. Euryclea sees the scar and with a clatter drops the foot into the bronze basin. Penelope, sitting next to them, does not move a muscle-Athena, that is, her alert wariness, has turned her attention aside. After this episode Penelope tells her husband a deliberately provoking dream and asks him to interpret it: She had twenty geese who had left the water to feed in her house, and her heart was warm with joy. A great eagle came swooping down and broke all their necks and she wept. In the dream the eagle himself interpreted, saying: the geese are the wooers and I am your husband returned. Odysseus interprets, speaking ambiguously of the dream or of himself: Odysseus himself has shown you what he will do. Penelope next conspiratorially proposes the contest of the bow: whoever can string and shoot straight Odysseus' great weapon is to have her in marriage. Odysseus, of course, approves. They go to sleep, she upstairs, he below. Odysseus hears her weeping, and presently "it seemed,to his heart that she had already recognized him and was standing at his head" (XX 99). To avoid a precjpitous reunion he takes his blankets and moves outdoors. When the contest begins on the morning after, Penelope argues for letting her husband participate, reassuring the wooers in her new equivocal mode: ''Do yon expect that ll �The College if the stranger strings Odysseus' great bow he will take me home and make me his wife?" (XXI 314). Just as in her order to Eurycleia, the Greek word order gives the momentary impression that she is calling the stranger "Odysseus." It is the day of the feast of Apollo, the god of bow and lyre. Odysseus strings the weapon like "a man well skilled in the lyre and song" and the string sings sweetly for the poet-archer. Penelope has been sent upstairs and there sleeps the soundest sleep ever since Odysseus' going (like Odysseus she takes to sleep at crucial moments). Carnage goes on below until the hall is purged of wooers and followers. Euryclea is sent upstairs to announce Odysseus' presence. Penelope descends. She finds Odysseus sitting against a pillar, with lowered eyes. Silence ensues, so long a silence that Telemachus feels compelled to interrupt it. Odysseus smiles at his nervousness: Let your mother test me. She will not acknowledge me because I am shabby; so let us bathe. And to keep rumour of the killing from spreading he orders a mock wedding feast; therefore everything that follows has a background of marriage music. The bath and Athena burnish Odysseus into glowing radiance; he has become 41Aethon." With matter of fact indifference Penelope now accepts him as master of the house, but she still refuses to call him by name and addresses him distantly as "Sir" (XXIII 174). Off-handedly, she orders his bed to be brought out, the bed which Telemachus had feared fouled with spider webs (XIV 35). Worse has happened-it has become a movable piece of mere furniture, this bed which Odysseus joined with his own hands, using a live olive as post-ua great token," as he says-and building the bed chamber around it. For the first and last time, Odysseus is distraught with anger. And at this moment Penelope throws her anns about him and calls him Odysseus. For the true crux of this last adventure was not the testing of Penelope by Odysseus, but that of Odysseus, so slow to come home, by Penelope, and her question was never: is this Odysseus? but: is it an Odysseus who cherishes live roots deep in the house? But now she comes to him, Homer says, as if she had reached land after a shipwreck (XXIII 239). His wife, by masking her immediate penetration of Odysseus' factual incognito, has raised the occasion of his return into a test of the wanderer's truth to his roots; she has assured herself that the "great token" still holds its meaning. Dawn is held back by Athena while they talk. Again before anything else, he tells her once more that he is not yet home for good, that he has, by Teiresias' prescription, to go inland to consummate his release from Poseidon and Hades, the sea and the underworld. So Ithaca is for now only a way station between sea and land. Then they go to bed, and "after the two had delighted in lovely intercourse, they delighted in tales" (XXIII 300). And so, in this resting place, Odysseus tells the odyssey 12 once more, for the first time in the "real" world. He tells his wife the whole story, in order and complete, all twelve adventures, including-for the first time, of course-the Phaeacian adventure, and not withholding his long times with the two ripe seductresses Circe and Calypso. In one point only does he follow Agamemnon's advice not to tell all: he omits any mention of Nausicaa, who, lithe as a young palm shoot, dreamed of him in Phaeacia; he does not mention to his middle-aged wife the only girl in the Odyssey. Might we not expect this work with its concurrent realms of prose and poetry to have an ending appropriate to each? And so it has. The concluding scene of the twentyfourth book occurs within the realm of sober political fact (XXIV 205 ff.). Odysseus completes his return by revealing himself to his father, Laertes. The three generations of Laertes' house together face an uprising of the slain wooers' relatives, for whom, as for the wooers, courtship and carnage are both entirely political matters (XXII 52). Odysseus' resumption of the kingship of Ithaca, in spirit legitimate because -of the kindness and justice of his past rule (IV 88, XIV 61), is confirmed in fact when Athena causes the parties to swear mutual oaths of peace. So, literally, ends the Odyssey. But simultaneously another concluding scene is taking place in a very different realm. There is a second Descent to Hades. Hermes leads the souls of the wooers into the underworld (XXIV 1 ff.). They throng about Achilles. Agamemnon draws near, once more tells the tale of his own murder and consoles the ever disconsolate Achilles with an account of the Funeral of Achilles, the most memorable of funerals, for to it came to sing the daughters of Memory, the nine Muses themselves (60). Then the wooers tell and make deposition in Hades of the adventure called the Return of Odysseus, and how-note well-their death was plotted by husband and wife togeth<;r ( 168). Henceforth the story of constant Penelope is recorded among those of the other unforgettable women of Hades, so that there may be made about her too "a pleasant song among men on earth" ( 197) . And so the repository of poetic truth holds the full tale both of Achilles' end and of Odysseus' return. It follows that although the principal and paradigmatic matter of poetry is and remains Achilles, that warrior of deathly splendour who is all one, all passion, altogether nothing but a being for poets, there is a second great matter for poetry: there is Odysseus, a vivid, viable, versatile, multifarious man, the man by whose agency alone Achilles is admitted to blood and voice, the man who made the odyssey-a poet. And so it is shown that the Odyssey, a poem about a poet, is a work of reflection. Miss Brann has been a tutor. in Annapolis since 1957. After graduation from Brooklyri College she earned M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from Yale University. She was an instructor in archeology at Stanford University, and then a member of the Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton, before coming to St. John's. �Dance, Gesture, and The Marriage of Figaro by Wye Jamison Allanbrook My lecture tonight has two subjects-dancing, and an opera- Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro. The link between them is a question: Bow does one express in music the passions and affections of human beings? Although all. music to a certain extent finds the same answer to that question, I would like to talk this evening about one particular kind of music-that of the late eighteenth century, of Mozart, Haydn, and much of Beethoven, which we often call by the name "Classic," and which constitutes a large part of the music we know and love best. What dancing has to do with the question of expression in this music is the subject of the first part of my lecture. How one composer used dancing for this purpose is the subject of the second. Illave often heard it said as a compliment to the music of Mozart and Haydn that it is "abstract," the pure formal play of note against note, purged of messy notions like expression, or what is termed "content." If there could be such a music-and I doubt that there can-I don't think that I ,would like it very much. But I can sympathize with people who say such things. They have had bad experiences with perverse or tricky musical imitation by third-rate composers, and are relieved not to find waterfalls or moonlit nights in their Mozart. Such talk does, unfortunately, obscure the fact that imitation is the core of late eighteenth-century music, although, indeed, a more subtle kind of imitation, with a nobler object-how men move. One French musician and writer on music wrote in 1785 that: "Imitation in music is only true when its object is songs. In music one can imitate truly war1ik~ fanfares, hunting airs, rustic songs, etc. It is only the question of giving a This article was delivered as a lecture at St. John's, Annapolis, on November 3, 1972. 111e text has been left as delivered, the "sheet" which was put in the hands of the audience is appended, and the music which was, o.n that occasion, played, is indicated by the beginnings of the passages in question. melody the character of another melody. Art, in that case, does not suffer violence." To paraphrase: a direct link between music and the object imitated should not, and actually cannot be forged. But much music is written to accompany certain actions which men perform. If we in our more complicated music imitate that simpler music 7 namely that of dances, fanfares, etc., we will achieve our goal without violating the principles of good taste. This writer articulates a principle central to musical taste in the late eighteenth century-that music in expressing men's passions should imitate only other music. Let me show you a simple application of this principle. If a character in an opera enters singing a strophic folk song-like Osmin, for those of you who saw the production of The Abduction from the Seraglio here a few weeks ago-our first impressions, at least, will be of a rather simple, artless fciiow, perhaps a peasant or a servant. On the other hand, for Belmonte, the hero of the opera, the grand Italian style of singing with its runs and trills is as much a part of his nobleman's habit as his velvet suit and frilled shirt. In this simple example, the composer, by choosing certain familiar types of music for his characters to sing, establishes limits for his characters, and gives them their particular life and movement· on the stage. A composer begins any piece of music by making such choices. The choices offered by a heroic grand opera style and a simple German folk song are fairly obvious. But there are certain other kinds of choices which arc so fundamental, which determine so much of the shape of a piece from its very outset, that I think that we often fail to take them into account. I am talking particularly about the measure in measured music-what it means to choose 3/4 time instead 6!8 as the meter of a piece of music. We today generally regard meter merely as a psychological phenomenon, originating within men, not from outside them. We argue that men tend a priori to impose 13 �The College on any string of undifferentiated pulses groupings of two or three, by somehow "hearing" the 'regular occurrence of a stronger pulse. From this standpoint meter becomes only a mechanical measuring device, which renders time man- ageable. Writing 4/4 at the beginning of a piece simply provides a neutral background on which we will shape the true life of the piece, and that we call its rhythm. Most modern music textbooks would make such a distinction between meter and rhythm. Analogous books in the late eighteenth century give an entirely different picture of meter. Constantly repeated in these books is the assertion that all meters, by nature, express certain characters or affects. They carry with them a certain distinctive shape or configuration which places expressive limits on a piece. The composer can learn about this shape, examine its potential, manipulate it, but he does not invent it. To write 3/8 at the beginning of a movement meant to an eighteenth-century composer not simply a unit of three eighth-note pulses, but "a gaiety which has something wanton in it." Expression was the essence of meter, not just an occasional attribute of it. The next question ·is, of course, how one makes such choices. What is there about the nature of any given meter which enables it to express one special passion? The theorists I have quoted had a veritable mania for what may · seem at first meaningless classifications of meters. They organized them into two general categories-those suitable · for church music and those for dancing. By dance, they meant not ballet, but the dances of society, high and low, like the minuet, gavotte, and contredanse. These dances were performed in courts and on village greens, by amateurs, for their own enjoyment. Eath dance had its own formal steps, its own particular meter, ·and its own appropriate locale. Of these two metrical categories-for the church and for dance-the second group was subdivided into smaller sections, which I will discuss later. (The ecclesiastical did not admit of division.) Such a classification is not as arbitrary as it first seems. We are accustomed to think of dances as special musical color: local (boleros, sambas, etc.), or antique (minuets, pavanes), indicated.by special rhythmic patterns, and employed when the composer's intent is to transport us into a very special locale, era, or frame of mind. Their use often verges on the quaint and precious, and is, to reiterate, a very special type of expression. We must approach dance music from the other direction, if we are to understand why it was so important to the eighteenth century. Rather than being a means of catching the expression of certain very special gestures by special types of people, it was one of the most direct ways theorist put it: "Almost nothing appears in the moral character of men which cannot be expressed comprehensibly and in a lively way by the position and movement of the body. Thus dance in its way is just as capable as music and speech of being modelled on the language of the passions." Thus these two metrical categories-those for the church and those for dancing-divide the cosmos as well, into the sacred and the secular, the divine and the human. Many other gestures beside dance came in for their share of imitation in the human sphere-singing itself, as we have seen, and martial and orchestral styles, but the dance still remained the central symbol of this half of the eighteenthcentury world. Now that we have divided the world, the rest of the task seems simple; all we have to do is decide what music is appropriately divine, what human, and then imitate that music when. that part of the world is our subject. But what music, on earth, is divine? The music of the spheres, un~ fortimately, we must reject as being out of time. Here history comes to.our re>cue. Being unable to produce for the church eternal music, the eighteenth century thought it appropriate to reach back in time; divine music ought, at least, to be venerable. 'I11e pure concords and longbreathed phrases of Renaissance sacred vocal polyphony seemed much more suitable for the church than that profane imitation of the way human beings move which is dance. Closely associated with this particular style, for reasons too complex to develop here, were meters based on groups of two with longer note values as their basic beathalf-notes and whole-notes rather than quarters and eighths, which would require a quicker and lighter execti' tion. As one theorist put it, the "true seat" of that meter we call "cut time," in which half-notes in groups of two. form the measure, is in the church, while the natural movement of 3/4 time is the minuet. The criteria by which we judge qualities of meters seem to be both the length of the note value taken as beat, and the numberduple or triple-of those notes in each measure. A, spectrum of meters, mnging from the most divine to the peculiarly human, would have at the one extreme those duple metep with long note values such as 2/2, or cut time, and at the other, triple meters with the eight or sixteenth-note as pulse .. The question which suggests itself from this observation is whether triple meter is necessarily more danceable than duple. Let us compare a common gesture in duple meter, the march, with the rhythmic pattern of a 3/4 measure. The pattern of accents for a march in 4/4 time, if one steps on beats l and 3, is pictured on your sheet. Left, right, left, right. Let me play you one. of expressing, in a measured and musical way, the gestures which represent the passions of all human beings. A man's thoughts and emotions found an outward manifestation in his gestures, which, when harnessed and transformed by measure and symmetry, and set to the appropriate music, were the content of the fine art of the dance. As one l4 + ' + �April, 1974 The pattern of a. minuet, a dance in 3/4 time, is also shown on your sheet. I'll play you a famous example from Mozart's opera Don Giovanni. One moves in step with a 'march, but it is just that-a step without danced content. In triple meter, however, there is a disproportion in the time allott~d to downbeat and upbeat (foot down and foot up); the up is double the down. This allows the dancer more time for the expansive step or gesture before the upbeat drives him to the next measure, and the next step. Characteristic of the march, on the other hand, is the intensity and inevitability with which it drives on to the next step; in the pedestrian" alternation of left foot and right there is no room. for the expansive gesture, the invention and fantasy of the dancer. Any careful listener will immediately object, and rightly so, that the example of duple meter I have chosen, the march, is the most secular of expressions, and certainly not employed only for the church, albeit the church militant. But even in the theater, meters which are danceable are capable of expressing ,a broad range of passions, but must stop short of the most exalted ones. The expression of these-when the most noble of men (or women) voice the most tragic or moral sentiments- must be left to that musical style which stems not from the dance, but from the divine or ecclesiastical. 2/2 meter, and almost as often 4/4, are usually chosen for those moments. Donna Anna, the heroine militant of Don Giovanni, sings wrathfully of her seduction in 2/2 time, and the effect is of a kind of slow and exalted march step. Let us hear it. 11 once. Two of the most popular dances of the century-the gavotte and the contredanse, the patterns of which are shown on your sheet-were in 2/4 and 4/4 time respectively. But both involve tinkering with the most customary patterns of the duple measure to give the dancer some platform for his gesture-something the march would not allow. The march is a perfect bridge between the exalted passions and those more mundane ones which are the subject of, dance. Its intensity and singlemindedness can of course become anything but pedestrian, as Donna Anna's aria shows us, and given the right treatment it can also be painfully comic-nothing but the most literal flatfooted imitation of how the poor human body moves in its unexalted moments. · I have tried to show how for the eighteenth century meter was anything but a mechanical device for measuring off equal hunks of time. Instead, every meter imitated a different way of moving, and thus of being, and the whole of the metrical spectrum reflected an ordered cosmos, with the divine and the human as its essential parts. Why has meter lost this meaning for us today? To see meter as bearing the stamp of human character was to express the confidence that human passions were held in common, and could be expressed by certain gestures common to all men, which gestures in turn could be imitated and held up to view by sensitive composer-observers. Later composers, in the nineteenth century, ]ike Schubert, Brahms, and Wagner, began to lose this confidence in a universal affective vocabulary, and thus grew less interested in depicting the ways men move and speak on this earth. The emotions of the individual, attempting in his own private vocabulary to express his own passions to a universe of other beings, took its place. One no longer made observations which could be immediately shared and understood by other men, but instead spoke idiomatically, and hoped that a few would respond. The voice and the words it could express became far more important than dance; even symphonies often became simple song forms-outcries, rather than representations of shared human experience. Meter was no , longer interesting in itself as a manifestation of the universal movements of man; it had become just a background for pitch, and thus song. * The danceable takes its .proper position to the right of the metrical spectrum, in the more modest, worldly passions. Exalted grief and anger soar from the left, in the tradition of the other-worldly. To say this is certainly not to assert that dances are not written in duple meter. On your sheet you will find a rough chart of the metrical spectrum as I have conceived it. In any spectrum the shadings toward the middle must become more ambiguous, pointing in both directions at * * Let us turn now to The Marriage of Figaro. Before we look at any of its music, I would like to tell you about two things-what I think the opera is about, and why it is the world of dance which illuminates the opera. This necessitates a prologue. I'll begin by telling you the story of the opera. It is set in Spain. The principal characters are the Count Almaviva, his wife the Countess, whose name is Rosina, and their servants, Susanna and Figaro. Susanna and Figaro are about to be married, but the Count, still 15 �The College young and lusty, hopes to seduce the bride first. The Countess, Susanna, and Figaro spend most of the opera trying to forestall him. At times they enlist the help of a young page, Cherubino, a lovestruck adolescent. Another character who unexpectedly comes to their aid is Marcellina, an aging and somewhat tiresome lady who at the outset belongs to the party of the Count, but discovers in the course of the opera that she is Figaro's mother, and naturally changes sides. The action of the opera extends over one day; the original title of the play from which the libretto of the opera was fashioned was La folle JourneeOne Mad Day. At the end of the day all these characters, and a few more I haven't mentioned, meet in the garden under the cover of darkness, some to seduce, and others to catch the erstwhile seducers in their seduction. All plots are forced out into the open, the Count is shamed and returns humbly to his Rosina, Susanna and Figaro are · reconciled after a brief lovers' quarrel, Marcellina marries the illegitimate Figaro's father, and Cherubino finds a wife for himself. All this seems at first of the familiar stuff of comedy: the usual mad imbroglio and happy resolution, where main plot and subplot are hopelessly tangled together, and then neatly and symmetrically untangled for our delectation. But this imbroglio is only the background against which something more disturbing, and more human, occurs. Su~ sanna and the Countess step out from behind the masks of comic convention. Indeed, many of the other characters in the opera, touched by the humanity of Susanna and the Countess, undergo a similar metamorphosis. The opera depicts a friendship between the two women based on mutual trust, respect and affection. 'I11e warmth radiating from this friendship generates in us a real concern for what happens to the various couples in their couplings and tmcouplings. It raises the plot from the level of mere farce. It even moves us to be genuinely happy for Marcellina when she metamorphoses from blue-stocking harridan to beaming mother, where we might have simply been relieved that a serious complication had been so fortuitously resolved. But such a friendship is not the easy thing it might seem to us in our enlightened age. The Countess is a noblewoman, and Susanna her servant. Class barriers violating either character's delicate sense of what is appropriate. This place must be beyond class, and with its own sense of time; it cannot be promised to be permanent, or even to be of more than one mad day's duration. Thus the opera is in one sense about class distinctions and what they amount to. We must first accept the fact that they have meaning. 'T11en we can look more closely and see if they always mean what they seem to on the surface. In other words, are the noble-born always noble, the base-born always base? The social dances of the eighteenth century were uniquely suited to the examination of this question. Each dance had persistent associations with one class or another. The minuet was long a dance peculiar to the aristocracy; the contredanse-a word thought to have been derived from the English word "countrydance" -was associated with the out-of-doors and simple, rustic folk. The choreographies and rhythmic patterns of these two dances also provide strong contrasts. The minuet was a dignified dance for couples, with refined, highly stylized steps and gestures. The contredanse involved as many people as you please in a gay follow-the-leader serpentine executed with many little quick steps-much like our modern reeL The measure of the minuet was a moderate 3/4 time with accents distributed fairly evenly across the measure, as shown on your sheet. The contredanse measure in 2/4, had a very strong downbeat, so strong that in very quick tempi the measure often seems more like the beat. Let me play you a very fast contredanse. Thus the social hierarchy brought with' it a hierarchy of expression. A man walks, talks-, and gestures in manners appropriate to his class, and these external postures themselves reflect his character. As Aristotle says in the Ethics of the proud man: "A slow step is thought proper to the proud man, a deep voice, and a level utterance; for the man who takes few things seriously is not likely to be hurried, nor the man who thinks nothing great to be excited, while a shrill voice and a rapid gait are the results of hurry and cannot be removed merely by strong sentiment or sentimentality. These barriers are very much a part of why each character acts the way he acts; they are not merely artificial hurdles to be leapt across by any two decent people so inclined. The Countess is bound to feel a little Aristocratic, dignified, grand, serious, noble. Neither of uneasy about reaching out to Susanna; in one moment of these two clusters of associations is foreign to us; each despair, she sees as a symptom of her misery the fact that, as she says, "I must seck help from one of my servants!" This is, after all, the way the ordered world in which she lives would see her. It is the task of the opera first to show us both characters catches the three-fold combination of class, gesture, and character or affect. I have chosen each word carefully, or, perhaps I should say, I have stolen each word, because I have excerpted them from a late eighteenth-century source and their proper worlds, to convince us that each woman as they are used in the theater. He also. includes a third class-a middle ground between the aristocratic and the peasant-and I would like to quote him directly about it. merits our respect and the respect of the other, and then to find a place where such a friendship can exist without 16 excitement." Country, comic, lively, nimble, merry, mischievous. -a writer on music-in his classification of social dances �April, 1974 "This class includes the dances which are called in technical language demi-caractcres-of middle character. Their content is an action from everyday life, in the character of the comic stage-a love affair, or any intrigue in which people from a not completely ordinary kind of life are in- world. One indication of this is that he never, when left to himself, dances. He also seems to be peculiarly undiscriminating in his relationships-'-an attitude popularly char- volved. These dances require elegance, pleasant manners, in the castle. ''Every woman," he says, "makes me blush, every woman makes me tremble." Add to this. what seems at first only an operatic artifice-the fact that the role of a young boy is actually played by a woman-and one realizes that every effort is being made to insure that Cherubino and fine taste." This middle world, this mean between the extremes of class, was often expressed by a dance called the gavotte. The gavotte was a special arrangement o.f the 4/4 measure-the most radical manipulation of duple meter possible. It retains that symmetricality of step which characterizes the march, but turns it inside out. The halves of the measure are transposed: beat number three-the "weak strong beat" of a march-becomes beat number one in one sense, and yet does not nsurp the proper position of the ''true" beat number one. Such a transposition creates a special situation in which there is only one truly weak beat out of four, forming a graceful rhythmic curve, which peaks at the downbeat and then falls. This pattern is shown on your sheet. Three such strong beats are truly "beaten"; each is experienced qnite distinctly. The gavotte falls short both of the simple gravity of the minuet and the exuberance of the contredanse, and substitutes, because of the almost artificial control of its rhythmic beating, a coy primness of affect. I'll play you an example of a gavotte. Eighteenth-century songs whose texts dealt with pastoral love-the love of shepherds and shepherdesses-were often set to gavotte rhythms. It is a venerable tradition to idealize the love of shepherds and shepherdesses, to raise it out of time and, paradoxically, out of class. This tradition dates as far back as TI1eocritus, a Sicilian poet of the third century B.C. An eighteenth-century manifestation of it was the court of Marie Antoinette, in which the nobles would all go to the country, dress as shepherds and milkmaids, and play at love. They were attempting, in a world where class is so very important, to imagine it away, to be artificially naive. Marie Antoinette's court showed a consciousness of this Greeo-Roman pastoral tradition of idealized love. So does the libretto of The Marriage of Figaro. References to Greek and Roman gods and demi-gods are scattered about -Bacchus, Venus, the Sibyl, the Zephyrs-as though to set up a deliberately "classical" context. But, more impor- tantly, Eros is one of the main characters of the operaan Eros who is perhaps more Mozartian than Platonicbut Eros, nevertheless. I am referring to the young page, Cherubino, whose name means "little Cherub." He is the only character in the opera who seems to be placeless, not bounded and defined by the manners of a given social acterized as "in love with love." He speaks, at one famous moment in the opera, of being in love With every woman is never particularized, never "embodied" in the sense that every other character in the opera is. Figaro even describes him as Eros, or at least as the "little Narcissus, little Adonis of love," beplumed, and with a "scarlet, womanly complexion," like every androgynous Cupid. The pastoral CupidEros of. The Marriage of Figaro is quite different from whatever Eros it is which presides over Don Giovanni. There Eros wounds, often disastrously, just as Virgil's Cupid pierces the breast of Dido with a fatal love for Aeneas. In this opera, however, Eros is love through his very vulnerability-his openness to all aspects of love. It is this element of Cherubino's nature which touches Susanna, Figaro, and the Countess, and makes the Count suspicious and edgy around Cherubino, although he is clearly never quite sure why he should distrust the young page. He senses that Cherubino bespeaks the kind of love which the Count knows little about-passion in the strict sense, that is to say, the joys and pains of suffering the object of one's affection to move one. This being affected has many facets. The thread of eros which runs through them all is an aliveness to the physical qualities of any person who moves you-the way he walks, the sound of his voice-so that merely looking at him will give you an involuntary start. But many of the relationships over which Cherubino presides have this sense of eros only in the background, while the actual relation is not strictly erotic. Cherubino flirts with Susanna and the Countess, and both women obviously are moved by his handsomeness and youth. But his relationship to Susanna is more of brother to sister, to the Countess of page and patroness. Eros makes these relationships sparkle and reverberate, but it does not dictate their nature. This "being moved" by someone also serves in a more general sense as a pattern for the affection of Susanna and the Countess; they are affected by those things which they find admirable .in each other, and this brings them to friendship. All the characters in the opera might find as an example of this kind of attachment to another human being their own affection for this absurd child, Cherubino. Despite his awkwardness and naivete, they are strangely moved by him. Little Cherubino is the tutelary deity of The Marriage of Figaro-the showing forth of the kind of human attachment which Mozart wants to celebrate in the opera-an eros of many facets, which binds people to one another by the recognition of those things which make each one unique. The musical world over which Cherubino presides, not dancing, as befits a deity, is the strange, half- 17 �The College lit, classical-pastoral place which is characterized by the gavotte, and another dance which I shall describe to you in a moment. This, then, is what I think .the opera is about. Susanna and the Countess are two fine women who are moved by each other's fineness to form a delicate attachment which needs a special place in which to flourish. Cherubino both articulates the nature of that attachment and presides over that special place. The other characters are affected by the magic which surrounds that place to rise to the level of fineness which Susanna and the Countess display. I have chosen four moments of music to play for you tonight. Each uses dance in a special way; the first two to illuminate the characters and explore their proper places, the second two to focus on this new and unique place-the pastoral world of Cherubino. The first moment belongs to Susanna and Figaro, and is actually two separate pieces-a duet between them, and then a solo for Figaro. It takes place in the couple's new bedchamber, where they will spend their marriage. night. Figaro tells Susanna how convenient their new location is-each of them can speed right to his master or mistress at the sound of their bell. How convenient, says Susanna sarcastically. If you should by some chance be sent away, the Count will only be a step away from me. Figaro is chagrined, and after Susanna leaves, he plots his revenge on the Count. These two pieces tell us everything we need to know about Susanna and Figaro. They show us that Susanna has more sensitivity and refinement than Figaro, perhaps is a little wiser, but also that Figaro will follow Susanna and learn from her in these matters, and that when he does see the ramifications of a situation he will face it with a wit, sophistication, and boldness of imagination which make him fully as attractive in his own way as Susanna is in hers. It is important that Susanna's greater sensitivity not diminish Figaro in stature; it is, after all, with their marriage that we are concerned. The essence of the duct is this: Figaro begins with a typical contredanse figure rather flatly repeated three times, in four-measure phrases, as he describes the convenience of their situation. As he mimics the call of the Countess's bell, the lilting contredanse with its strong downbeat is metamorphosed into march,. to propel Susanna into the Countess's bedchamber. Then Figaro, with almost painful literalness, tells us how convenient it is for him also. Three times the contredanse phrase is repeated, again the bell rings, and Figaro marches into the Count's chamber. Susanna then takes up the contredanse phrase and mimics Figaro, but with heavy irony. To suggest the Count's nefarious intent, she repeates the contredanse three times, like Figaro, but moves from a major to a minor tonality, to give the proper menacing import to her suggestion. At the moment when the march should occur, she substitutes for it a speech-like phrase, which obliterates all dance rhythms, to underline the seriousness of her point. Let me play the · duet. 18 We see from this that Figaro loves to playact; he is in fact a born mime, who can summon up vividly before our eyes any imaginary situation. He will do this frequently during the opera, and often it will save both their skins. Here, however, it only serves to point up Susanna's greater sensibility. Figaro's repetitive contredanse is of the commonest dance idiom, and his tactlessly graphic march only adds to our sense that his playacting is mere buffoonery. The march also betrays his sense of importance at being the Count's favored servant and betrothed to the Countess's favorite; he delivers both himself and Susanna into their service with a ceremonial flourish. Susanna's imitation of the contredanse in minor is irony with a very serious in- tent. It touches us, and enlarges our sense of her range of feeling. Though she may be proud to serve the Countess, she is dismayed that Figaro, blinded by his pride in service, might blithely serve her up to the Count as a ceremonial victim; no pride would make her serve like that. When, clearly finding the low comic march distasteful, she instead inserts a thougbtful speech-like phrase, our sympathies cannot help but be with her, and from here on we demand from Figaro some response which will measure up to her intelligence and wit. Figaro does not disappoint us. Susanna's announcement has deflated his high spirits, and has left him very angry at the Count. He pulls himself together and launches a venomous blast at the Count which treats the Count's traditional music with an irony well matched to that with which Susanna treated Figaro's musical invention in the duet. His aria opens as a minuet, a version more spare and muscular, and slightly faster, than the one I just played you. Figaro invites the Count to dance, with himself as accompanist. You will hear his guitar in the plucked strings of the orchestra; horns also are dominant, to i1nderline the noble, ceremonial nature of the dance. Figaro is again, just as in the preceeding duet, vividly miming a situation in which he serves the Count, but this is service in a wholly different manner. It is a tribute to his wit and control that he sings not passionately but ironically, cloaking his angry insolence in the noble politesse of the minuet. At the end of the first presentation of the minuet, the music three times leaps high on the word Sl, or yes, and Figaro casts aside all pretence of accompaniment to become a dancer himself, performing a caprioia, or leaping dance step-an inappropriate embellishment to the dignified minuet, and a blatant insult to the Count. For as the piece moves into �April, 1974 its second section, Figaro becomes the dancing master, the situation his dancing school. His words here are "If you want to come to my school, I will teach you the capriola" -the step which he has just performed. The great joke on the Count is that the dance to be taught in this dancing school is no longer the minuet, but a dance step whose Italian name derives from the word capra, or goat. It suggests both somersaults of children and dancers leaping, or, to anyone who knows Italian, the activity of cuckolding; the horns of the goat are the eternal symbol for a man who has been put in this embarassing positiorf. You may have thought that you were going to cuckold me, says Figaro, but two can play at that game. To drive his statement home, Figaro performs the caprioia twice more, again on the word Sl. Then after a brief and reflective pause, in which Figaro steps outside the dance, he swings into a new dance, a quick contredanse, to list all the Count's devious schemes which he plans to overturn. The contredanse is a wonderful invention here. On the literal level it fits perfectly with the scene which Figaro is describingthe dancing master dragging his recalcitrant pupil through the paces of social dance. Now that we've learned the minuet and the capriola, let's try a new one .. But the contredanse, with its emphasis on group dancing and its selfconsciously countrified associations, is the very dance which the Count would not be apt to perform. Thus Figaro, in his vivid imaginings of revenge, has transported the Count into a social setting in which he would never be found by choice, and in which the rules of behavior are those of a more "democratized" city life, such as Figaro must have led before he came to the aristocratic seclusion of Count Almaviva's castle. 'I11e rhythmic patterns and the choreography of the contredanse also suggest a kind of intoxication or dizziness. As Figaro grows intoxicated by his thoughts of revenge, he also dazzles his hapless victim with a list of his sins: "the art of fencing, the art of conniving, fighting with this one, playing with that one." One after another Figaro reels them off, to leave his victim reeling. A good Figaro on stage must be both dancer and mime; he must not only perform the capriola, but also must at this moment become a kind of diabolical ringmaster, cracking his whip to summon up the evidence, now from this side, now from that. Then he exits tri. umphantly, after a close which recapitulates the sequence of minuet and contredanse. The minuet seems all the more menacing after the relentless flourishes of the contredanse. Let us listen to it. The next moment I have chosen is one of great triumph for Susanna. She does just what Figaro has been telling us he would like to do-teach the Count how to dance. Just like Figaro, she chooses the Count's proper music, the minuet, as the tune, but even a more aristocratic version, with a slower tempo, closely resembling the example I played you earlier. This moment occurs in the finale of the second act during one of the little entanglements which plot the curve of the comedy in this opera. The Count has good reason to believe that Cherubino is locked in the Countess's closet; he is wildly jealous and angry. As he storms about the Countess's bedchamber, Susanna cleverly substitutes herself for the page, so that when the Count opens the closet door, he is confronted not by Cherubino, but by Susanna. Listen to the beginning of her m'inuet. 'I11e marvel of this moment is the absolute justice with which we accord Susanna her minuet. She is not just the clever servant, revelling as she beats her master at his own game. She is nobler than the Count, and the minuet becomes her proper music, not his. The Count dimly perceives this, and is shamed by it. Circumstantial evidence tells him he has a right to be jealous, but the characters of the women who face him tell him he does not. Circumstances may have driven Rosina· to form such a friendship with her servant girl, but at this moment that girl is her equal, while the Count does not measure up. Moments later the ladies force the Count to his knees, he gasps out in supplication "Rosina/' and we applaud, because we know that, at least for the moment, he has been moved by their nobility-he is learning about "being affected." The next piece I have chosen-a duet between Susanna and the Countess-takes place late in the opera, but the scene which it 'paints might have occurred at almost any point. It shows us Susanna and the Countess calm and secure in their friendship. Their mutual trust and affection are all the more remarkable at this point, because it is the moment of the Countess's greatest degradation; all else having failed, she is reduced to ignoble plotting to win back her husband-in front of, and with the aid of, her servant. Yet the two women are in perfect unanimity; they say little, but seem to understand each other completely. They sing often in parallel thirds, with Susanna's voice the higher, at times one imitates the other's phrase. The Countess is dictating, Susanna taking down, a letter to the Count, making a rendezvous for him and ostensibly for Susanna, for that evening in the garden. The Countess, of course, intends to go herself, disguised as Susanna. She deliberately chooses a bucolic text for her letter; wishing to make it allusive, a hint rather than an open invitation, she sends only .a short poem, the text of a song, which is "What a 19 �The College gentle zephyr will sigh this evening beneath the pines in the thicket." The dance pattern which Mozart chooses to base the duet on is the most pastoral of all-a slow 6/8 meter actually called the pastorale, which traditionally accompanied the songs and dancing of Sicilian shepherds. Let me play it for you. 1,1~ (&. .....,,... \ S11\\! 1ll~r,?"~a __ \ 1 __.....--, ( l ~ ~ ~:w-JU..r Clk •• ':L!JWW The use of the pastoral by sophisticates is usually per· verse; Marie Antoinette and her milkmaids were aristocrats affecting the naive and simple, and they changed its vivid colors into faded pastels. Mozart, however, transforms and elevates the genre. He too sees it as a place out of time, where Eros presides. But Marie' Antoinette and her court delighted in pretending to be what they were not. Susanna and the Countess, because they take their delight precisely in what the other is, use the pastoral as a place where they meet without having to deny what they arc. The duet is to the opera like the eye of a hurricane is to the actual stotin. Although the situation is deadly serious, Susanna and the Countess seem to play together, in a sheltered and convention, not a source of it. It is sophisticatedly naive, not simply naive. Thus the gavotte seems at first to be the perfect music for the Count here. Shamed but not repentant, he uses it ironically; he seems to be asking an innocent question, but there is menace in his intent. Un- fortunately for him, he has chosen the wrong music, the very ground on which his three opponents can stand united By the end of the quartet they have transformed the Count's pastoral gavotte into a soaring hymn-a cek bration of their unity. Mozart effects the transformation using the very melody and rhythms which the Count had introduced, but he gives them to the trio in close harmony, with suspensions. Under the beating of the gavotte, he adds a true country element-a bagpipe bass-a long droning held note which provides a new and more stable level of rhythmic action; it "grounds" the gavotte, so to speak, and gives it depth. This is by no means the last entanglement in the opera, and the trio knows it. Worse, as a matter of fact, is to follow immediately. But this moment still has much in common with the duet we have just heard. The extraordinary beauty of the transformed gavotte lifts the moment out of time to a new significance, and leaves it indelibly with us-a picture of an enduring relation between three people-even though in a few seco-nds the mi'lee will continue. Let us hear it. intimate place, which cuts across the opera, intersecting with it, but on a wholly different plane. The final moment I. have chosen is perhaps my favorite in the opera.It is a point in the action when this pastoral place becomes a public stance; its denizens, armed by Eros, face their enemy and force him to submit, at least for the moment. They sing, of course, a gavotte. It takes place. in the second act finale, soon after Susanna's triumphant minnet. Susanna and the Countess have just shamed the Count into submission when Figaro enters to announce that all preparations are ready for the wedding. Deprived of Susanna and the Countess as culprits, the Count turns on Figaro and inquires about the contents of a certain incriminating letter which Susanna and the Catmtess have just confessed that Figaro wrote. Figaro stammers, and the ladies hasten to alert him to the fact that the truth is out; he needn't make up a story. Relieved, he joins the ladies in asking the Count to allow the wedding to proceed. The Count, bafl!ed again, as he expected Figaro to get into deep trouble in this new story, can only mutter a prayer that Marcellina will soon come to his rescue. The Count introduces the gavotte rhythms himself, when he turns to Figaro with the letter. The shepherds' dance of the duet we just heard is the raw material of the pastoral, used with sophisticated intent. The gavotte, with its artificial rearrangement of the 4/4 measure and its coy, "beating" affect, is a result of the play with the pastoral 20 The Marriage of Figaro is not, as some have asserted, a revolutionary's manual, nor a facile witness to the aphorism that true friendship knows no bounds. It tells us instead, with wit and a certain resignation, of the kinds of fragile traits with which some humans are endowed which enable them, in this world,_ to move to a new place, a "room of their own." It also asserts with some joy that with them these same people may take others, less well endowed. The class distinctions of "noble" and ''base" are not obliterated. Instead we take the other senses of these two words, and with the help of the gestures of dance, apply them where they most genuinely seem appropriate. Mozart paints human passions by using as mediator in his imitation the music written to accompany social dance. He is the choreographer of the passions. Mrs. Allanbrook is a graduate of Vassar College, holds an M.A. degree from Stanford University, and recently completed her doctoral dissertation. At Stanford she was a Woodrow Wilson Fellow and a teaching assistant in music. She has been a tutor at St. John's since 1969. �April, 1974 DANCE, GESTURE, AND THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO Rhythmic Patterns of Five I I I -v-u -u-u Minuet ( ~ .or §) ''I -uv 1/.. -we.;;~ Gavotte ( ~) --1~.} Contredanse (fr} __ ,..1..~ I I -v -u Pastorale (~) I " -uu-tJu I" . -uu-u-U *Top number indicates number of beats per measure, bottom number the note value counted as the beat. The Spectrum of Heters Ecclesiastical (exalted passions) 2 2 4 4 march Human (terrestrial passions) 2 6 4 dance 8 The Cast of Characters of the Opera Count Almaviva The Countess, Rosina, Count Almaviva's wife Susanna, servant to the Countess, betrothed to Figaro Figaro, servant to the Count Cherubino, young page to the Count and Countess Harcellina, aging spinster and friend of the Count 21 �The College NEWS ON THE CAMPUSES WEIGLE HoNoRED The city of Annapolis has taken formal recognition of President Richard D. Weigle's 25 years as president of St. John's College. It has adopted a resolution congratulating him on his years as president and expressing its appreciation for his contributions to the community. The resolution was introduced by Mrs. Barbara Neustadt, who called Mr. Weigle one "Now, therefore, be it resolved by the mayor and aldermen of the City of Annapolis that it hereby congratulate Dr. Richard D. Weigle upon completion of 25 years as president of St. John's College and expresses its deep appreciation on behalf of the citizens of the City of Annapolis for the many contributions made by him which have made Annapolis a better place in which to live and to work." of Annapolis' "outstanding citizens." The resolution reads: "Whereas, Dr. Richard D. Weigle became president of St. John's College in June, 1949; and GRADUATE INSTITUTE The eighth session of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education will run from June 23 through August 16 on the "Whereas, during his tenure and be- Santa Fe campus. The Institute enrolls cause of his leadership and strong dedi- about 150 students from all parts of the cation, the college has grown physically, · country each summer. Director David increased its size of enrollment from Jones has announced that applications 196 students to 375, and gained greater are now being considered for the 1974 session. financial stability; and "Whereas, Dr. Weigle had the foreThe Institute offers a liberal arts prosight to locate another St. John's Col- gram in keeping with the St. John's lege in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with a educational policy of reading and dispresent enrollment of 255; and cussing great books of the past and "Whereas, the City of Annapolis, the present in order to illuminate the accollege, and Dr. Weigle have had strong complishments, frustrations, and fundaties throughout the years; and mental inquiries of western civilization. "Whereas, Dr. Weigle stood in the The program is divided into four segforefront as an outstanding leader in ments: Politics and Society, Philosophy the city and county, having· served on and Theology, Literature, and Mathethe Anne Arundel County Board of matics and Natural Science. While Education for twelve years, five years originally designed for secondary school as its president, president of Historic teachers, the Institute is attended by Annapolis, Inc., vice-chairman of the members of many other professions as Hall of Records, chairman of the Mary- well. There are no textbooks, lectures, land Commission on the Capital City, or written examinations; the studies are and as a member of the Governor's Ad- approached entirely through small disvisory Commission on Higher, Educa- tion in addition to membership in numerous other clubs and educational bodies; and "Whereas, it is the desire of the Governing Body of the City of Annapolis to cite Dr. Weigle for his many accomplishments; · 22 cussion classes. Participants. can earn nine graduate hours during a summer term. Those who successfully complete four summers of work receive the degree of Master of Arts. The Institute is ·accredited by the North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools. BOARD OF VISITORS AND GoVERNORS John T: Harrison, Jr. of Stamford, Conn., and Daniel T. Kelly, Jr., of Santa Fe, were elected to the Board of the College at the February meeting on the southwestern campus. Harrison, vice president of Marsh & McLennan, Inc., of New York City, is the son of the late John T. Harrison of the class of 1907 at St. John's. He is a graduate of St. Paul's School and of Yale University. A native Santa Fean, Kelly is a partner in the Kelly and Noss Agency, a general insurance firm serving northern New Mexico. He attended Portsmouth Priory School in New Hampshire and graduated from Harvard University. He also holds a master's degree from Harvard's School of Business Administration. SANTA FE TUTORS Two new Tutors, Miss Ida Doraiswamy and Mr. Gerald Myers, have joined the Santa Fe faculty this semester. A native of Cliingleput, Tamilnadu, India, Miss Doraiswamy began her undergraduate work in India at Voorhees.College, Vellore, and Sara Tucker College in Palayamkottai. She received both a B.A. and an M.A. from Madras Christian College in Tambaram and later came to the United Stataes to study at Oberlin College under the Oberlin Shansi Exchange Program with Lady Doak College in Madurai, India. In 1962 she received an M.S. degree from the University of Wisconsin. Miss Doraiswamy was a Tutor at St. John's in Annapolis for two years and then returned to India to teach at Lady Doak College and later at Baring �April, Union Christian College in Batala, Punjab. Last year Miss Doraiswamy was in Africa teaching mathematics at Wesley Girls' High School and Adisadel College in Cape Coast, Ghana. Mr. Myers graduated from the University of Colorado, received his Ph.D. from the University of Colorado Medical Center in Biophysics in 1969 and has done further work in Biology, Biochemistry and Molecular Biophysics at Yale University. He has been a U.S.P.H.S. Fellow at the University of Colorado Medical Center and from 1969 through 1971 was an American Cancer Society Postdoctoral Fellow at Yale. Earlier Mr. Myers was a Biology Teaching Assistant at Loretto Heights College in . Denver, Colorado and taught Chemistry at Yale. More recently he has been a Seessel Research Fellow in the Department of Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry at Yale. Mrs. Myers and their four children will join the new Tutor in Santa· Fe at the end of this school year. FELLOWSHIPS St. John's seniors on both campuses 1974 received special honors just as this was going to press. Thomas J. Watson Fellowships were awarded to Santa Fe senior David F. Gross, of Saratoga, Cal., and to Annapolis seniors, Donne] O'Flynn, of District Heights, Md., and to Theodore B. Wolff, of Lexington, Mass. Wolff is the son of St. John's alumnus Peter C. Wolff, of the class of 1944. In Annapolis, senior Michael Jordan, of Media, Pa., has received a Danforth Foundation Fellowship for graduate study. He plans to enter graduate work in comparative literature next fal). ALUMNI ACTIVITIES SKYROCKETS,. ROMAN CANDLES, ANDBIGBEN By now all alumni in the continental United States should have received an announcement of the Alumni Association London tour, June 29-July 7, 1974. Unlike previous trips where a minimum number of travelers was required, any number can make this trip. The only possible problem could be space, since we will be sharing a flight with another alumni group. Our best advice is to get your reservation-and · your deposit-into the mail as soon as you make up your mind. London on July Fourth should be interesting, to say the least. Make your plans now to join the gang heading for the British Isles. And if enough people are interested, we could plan a gettogether with our alumni who live in the London area-perhaps on the Fourth. Lest you western folks wonder why you received a mailing about a trip originating in D.C., we mostly wanted you to know that the Alumni Associa- tion was doing this thing. And if any of you want to join in, that of course would be wonderful. HOMECOMING 1974 There are certain problems simply in sharing a town with another educational institution-and when you are in the boating capital of the Mid-Atlantic states, the problems are magnified. October, as many alumni are aware, has been the traditional Homecoming month; even the 'new' by-laws show it as the normal month for the Association Annual Meeting. But in Annapolis, gem of the upper Chesapeake, October is just too popular. The first and last week-ends have Navy home football games, while the two middle weekends are given over to a pair of national boat shows. Those four events give us just too much competition for housing, parking, meals, and plain walking around' room. So what can the Association planners do? They look first at September; this did not work too well last year-many said it was much too early-and besides, only the last weekend is really possible; for other reasons, that cannot be used this year. Result: November 2, unhappily, is the date. One big advantage: it gives all of us time to make our plans for baby, house, or pet sitters, to rearrange business ap- pointments, and to save gasoline for the trip. And most of us will be ready for a break about that time, anyhow. The Class of 1949 is making plans for its silver anniversary reunion-it should be a good one-'24 is also making some arrangements to get together, according to Ridgely Gaither, so we hope others will follow suit. How about '14 and '24 and '34 and '44 and '54 and '64? We know some of you are impossibly far from Annapolis, but more than one-third of all alumni live within three hours' drive. Details of programming will appear in the July issue. The Homecoming Committee promises a very special program, with something for everyoneand one or two surprises. 23 �The College ' CLASS NOTES 1912 Philip L. Alger, "Mr. Induction Motor" to electrical engineers, received special recognition on his 80th birthday in January, when the In- stitute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers presented him a specially inscribed brass plaque. Still active, Mr. Alger presented two papers on rotating machinery during the IEEE winter meeting. 1923 S. Paul Schilling is the author of God Incog- nito, published in February by Abingdon Pres_s. In his new book Dr. Schilling discusses ways m which God can be experienced today, -ways which may be quite' different from the conventional or traditional. 1928 For his book, The Dreyfus Case: A Documeutary History, Professor Louis L. Snyder, of the Department of History of The City College and The City University of New York, has been voted a citation by the New Jersey Writers Conference. The award was scheduled to be presented at the Fourteenth Annual Luncheon of the Writers Conference at Newa.rk College of _ EngineCring on April 27. be the only St. Johnnie to attain that distinction.) l-Ie is now a marketing representative for the Simmons Company, and makes his home in Westfield, N.j. 1943 Dr. H. Wi11ard Stern has been promoted to full professor of philosophy at Kean College of New Jersey (formerly Newark State College). After 37 years with the Federal GoVernment, bio-chemist with the National Institutes of Health, Bethesda, Md. He says he will remain in Bethesda for the time being, doing consulting work. His many friends and classmates will be saddened to learn.that Claxton J. "Okey" O'Connor lost his wife on February 3. In December Okey was na111ed the Secondary Schools "Man of the Year" at the U.S. Lacrosse Coaches Association's meeting. A member of the Lacrosse Hall of Fame since 1964, Okey has been active in both the Coaches Association and the Intercollegiate Lacrosse Association since 1942. 1932 In December President Nixon announced tl.1e appointment of James F. Campbell as U.S. Ambassador to El Salvador. Jim had been serving with the Agency for International Development as AssiStant Administrator for Program ancl Management Services since 1971. 1937 In February the Lacrosse Hall of Fame Foundation announced that five men would be inducted into the Hall this spring (April 27, to be exact). St. John's own Everett Smith, Jr. is one of the number being so honored. At St. John's Everett made the varsity lacrosse--team his freshman year, and was selected first-team All-America for four consecutive years. (Information from the Hall of Fame shows Smith to 24 / 1952 Alvin Aronson writes that he is back in the States, now living, albeit perhaps temporarily, in New Hampshire, and hopes to return to Israel in September. He is writing a play about St. John's, perlrdps to be called "The Great Experience." 1944 In January Arthur Hymau, University Professor of Philosophy, Yeshiva University, was the featured lecturer in a threc·day Medieval and Renaissance Collegium conducted at the University of Michigan. Artie spoke on "Religion and Philosophy in Medieval Philosophy: The Islamic and Jewish Traditions," "Religion and Philosophy in Medieval Philosophy: 'Ibe Christian Tradition," and "Thomas Aquinas on Natural and Human Law." 1945 An address change card from Rogers Albritton shows that he is with the Department of Philosophy at the University of California at Los Angeles. lie did not say whether this was a permanent change from Harvard. His classmates will be ple-dsed to know that George Cayley (Washburn while at St. John's) recently received his B.A. degiee from Richmond College in New York. 1930 R. Ellis Mitcllell last June retired as a research of the National College of Education, Evanston, Ill., last October. 1947 II. Gerald Hoxby is managing director of the DuBois Chemicals plant in North Ryde, New South Wales, Australia. Cerry set up the plant, and expects to be there for another two or three years. lie, Liz, and children Alison and Blair stopped by the College while on home leave a few months ago. Their home is in St. Ives, near North Ryde. · 1948 Peter J. Davies, after a number of years with USAID, is now Director, Program Coordination, for the Western Hemisphere Region, Internatiomll Planned Parenthoo::l Federation. His wife Phyllis expects to graduate in June from New York University Law School; son Kenneth wiU finish at Cornell University at the same time, while younger son Christopher is a sophomore at Cornell. 1949 Just a reminder to all you '49'ers: Jonathan Brooks and Allan Hoffman arc making really fine plans for your Silver Anniversary reunion at Homecoming next fall. In this connection, does anyone know the where-abouts of Solon10n S. Finebinm, James W. Ray, or George P. Welcll? How about Michael L. Rourke? The Co11ege has "lost" these members of the class. 1950 C. Ranlet Lincoln represented the College at the inauguration of Calvin E. Gross as president 1953 Last September St. John's was represented by William M. Aston at the inauguration of John D. Rockefeller IV as president of West Virginia Wesleyan College. 1961 Miclmel W. Ham, admissions director in Annapolis, has been invited to become a member of a recently-organized joint committee of the American Mathematical Society and the Mathematical Association of America. A recent letter from John C. Kohl, Jr., tells us that, after a three-year stint as an assistant professor of biology at Trenton State College, he is now doing graduate work in environmental sciences at Rutgers University. His-principal interest areas are pollution control, waste disposal, and resource recovery. 1963 December brought a delightful Christmas letter from John Jermain Bodine. "J .J ." has received his Ph.D. degree from Hartford Theological Seminary; his dissertation was on the twentieth century Islamicist Duncan Black Macdonald. "J .J .'s" wife Ruth is in Hungary th_is year, studying music at the Liszt AcademY m Budapest. lie is still in the Dean's Office at the Seminary, and also keeps busy with the Ministry Support Program there and with. the Red Cross. Dr. Oliver M. Korshin is director of HEW's U.S.-U.S.S.R. Health Exchange program, With an office in the Health Services Hoadqmrters in RockviJJe, Md. Via a recently installed direct "hotlinc," American and Russian scientists can exchange vital information conccming drugs, environmental health, cancer discOveries, and all manner of other medical matters. J. Waiter Sterliug has filed for the Democratic primary, in a bid to run against Mrs. Marjorie Holt for the Maryland 4th District Congressimwl seat which Mrs. Holt now occupies. 1964 William W. Dunknm III is head of the science department of T. C. Williams High School in Alexandria, Va. Kevin D. Witty is a trust officer and head of the Employee Benefit CI'rust Division of the California Canadian Bank in San Francisco. l-Ie completed his military obligation in 1969, a captain in the Army Corps of Engineers at the time of his release. lie then spent three years �April, 1974 with Bankers Trust Company in New York until moving to his present position in January, 1973. Kevin and his wife, the former Lela Dawn Barrett, were married in July, 1967, and have two sons, Sean McDonald, 4, and Jason Merrill, 1. Mrs. Witty's father is James H. Barrett of the class of 1941, now a retired Air Force officer. 1967 B. Meredith Burke writes that she will be working as a consultant to the Development Economics section of the World Bank through May. Hope (Zoss) Schladen and husband Jon are the proud parents of Sarah D. Schladcn, born November 14, 1973. Hope and Jon both teach, she high school equivalency, he at Rochester's Alternative Junior High School. 1968 Gregory Congleton (SF) has just completed seven months as a trainee in the Controller's Department of FPC Ind. Inc., Pittsburgh, Pa., and is now working as a programmer I systems analyst at their sheet glass plant in Henryetta, Okla. George E. Deering, III (SF) graduated from the University of Massachusetts in June, 1973, and is now enrolled in the University of Massa, chusctts Medical School. Congratulations to Joshua T. Gillebn II for passing the Maryland St<~te Bar examinations during the winter. Augusta Goldstein (SF) writes,"! am teaching (for a11 intents, purposes, and superficial appearances)" eighth grade physical science in a Los Angeles suburb. She also says that, for "teacher credentialing" purposes, St. John's graduates arc considered mathematics-physical science majors in California. Hamld Morgan (SF) writes that he has graduated from the University of New Mexico with a double maior in political science and journalism. 111is spring he will retum to UNM to work on his master's degree in business administration while working part-time as manager of a small publishing company. He is married to the former Chris Anderson of Tulsa, Okla., whom he met when they were the only two advanced Greek students at UNM. Jonathan Sinmeich has completed law school at the University of Virginia, and is now with the firm of Paul, Weiss, Refkind, VVhorten & Garrison of New York. He, Masha, and son Aram were scheduled to move to that city on March l. A new Ph.D. degree recipient from Claremont Graduate School, Claremont, Cal., is Robin A. Smith (SF). T11e title of his dissertation: "Plato's Dialectic from the Standpoint of Aristotle's First Logic." Robin is currently visiting assistant professor of philosophy at Occidental Col1cgc in Los Angeles. University of California at Los Angeles. Presently she is studying music at San Diego State University. Anne Christy Chapin (SF) is in Albuquerque teaching Science of Creative Intelligence and Transcendental Meditation. Robert J. Chassell {SF) has received an M.A. degree in economics from Cambridge University, England. John D. Goodwin (SF) tells us he served in South Vietnam in 1970-71 as a Chief Warrant Officer- Medical Evacuation Helicopter Pilot. He completed his St. John's junior year in 1972, attended an aviation school in Colorado in 1972-73, and is now a qua1ificd 'copter instructor as well as a commercial helicopter pilot, with airplane commercial and instrument ratings. John has been employed by Rocky Mountain Helicopters since last May, covering a six-state area. He and his wife Veronica live in Tesuque, near Santa Fe. Jesse Tepper (SF) has received his Master's degree in sociology from the State University of New York at Stony Brook. 1970 A short "John Dean letter" tells us Dikran Kizi1yan works in San Francisco and lives in Berkeley, and that Dennis Rains and Mary Shepard were married last September. Joan (Barstow) Hermindez (SF) now lives in Huehuctenango, Guatemala, where she and her Guatemalan husband arc <~ctive in the Baha'i Faith, "working for the unity of mankind." They have one son, BacH Rafael, a year old. After almost four years in Guatemala, Joan definitely prefers the simpler life there to the more sophisticated life in the States, and says she is very happy. Kitty (TeipelJ Morel (SF) received a M.S. degree in mathematics from the University of Tulsa last June. She and her husband Jim now live in Dallas, where she is an engineering programmer and he is a scientific systems analyst. 1971 \Villiam H. Bue11 is a sudent at the Holy Trinity Orthodox Seminary in Jordanville, N.Y. Bill writes that he is in a fivc.ycar program In Memoriam .1·904-Col. Edward 0. Halbert, New Lon9w1, CT, January 21, 1974. -1'912-II.~ \Vilson Wheeler, Baltimore, MD, O<;t<>!Jer !7, 19721. 19.)6""-C. Kemp Hoff, Miami, FL, Deccnlber....J'97 3. 19£D--C. Garner Werntz, Sun City, AR, Janna~? 974. .,lJJ' ~Lucien E. Felty, Rowlesburg, WV, 1<171. / l9,Jf1:::._<=:apt. Samuel B. Purdie, Merritt 1969 After leaving St. John's in Santa Fe, Marcy (Byles) Ayauian (SF) studied economics at the Islaf!~yt:, January 2, 1974. 1~'1-Dr. Paul F. Giffin, Keyser, WV, leading to a Bachelor of T11eology degree. All classes are in Russian; Bill says he is aided in his leaming of Russian by a conversational knowledge of modern Greek, a skill he has acquired over the past two years. K. Elisabeth Jackson is now business manager for a neurological diagnostic facility for minimally brain·damaged children in Washington, D.C. Foxe loves her job and does a lot of travelling. We have just heard from Rebecca Schwab (SF) that she graduated from the State Uni· versity College in Brockport, N.Y. Jeffrey Sonl1eim, having passed graduate qualifying examinations in mathematics, is now a candidate for the Ph.D. degree at the University of I1linois. 1972 Louise Romanow (SF) writes that she is studying environmental biology at the University of Massachusetts. 1973 Richard Collen (SF) is working for the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco and would like to get in touch with St. Jolmnics in the area. His address is 4 West Court, 1\.pt. A, Sausalito, Cal. 94965. Peter M. Fairbanks, whose insistence resulted in the Communicard last summer, finally used one to tell us officially of his marriage to Cenita last June, and of their subsequent tour "with a group of kids" to Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. As of January Peter \vas bying· for a trainee position in an art house, but was also considering graduate school as a possible alternative. Joanue (Charbonneau) Rice (SF) will finish work on a Master's degree in English at the University of Montana this spring. She plans to start work toward her doctorate next fall. Further infom1ation on Deborah E. Sehiftcr has been received from her father: she is teaching mathematics to American students enroHed at the regional high school at the kibbutz Kfar '; Blum in Upper Galilee. Debbie frequently sees Jan Huttner, \vho is staying in the nearby town of Qyriat Shmona. January..)-T,I974. 19'3'2-William L. Waller, Baltimore, MD~Jm uary 10, 1974. -John R. Bossert, Annapolis, MD, No •emjlor25, 1973. 1~-Edward G. \Villiams, Hasbrouck Heights, ])l.j;- January 15, 1974. l;t~Frcdcrick R. Buck, Baltimore, MD, February 6, 1974. l,sl-f5:........Franklin B. Pumphrey, Crownsville, lvJD, February 12, 1974. 15)')2-Peter D. Gordon, Rockford, IL, J~muary 29, 1974. 1965-Hugh Boland Johnston, Falls Chmch, VA, January 15, 1974. �r++++~~~~:J: NOTICE >~< :1: :j: ;J; The recent mail election of Alumni representatives :j: to the Board of Visitors and Governors was com>!< :j: :j: >!< :1: :j: :j: t :1: >!< t t pleted on March 31st. Article VIII, Section IV, of the Alumni Association By-laws provides that "The two candidates >!< receiving the highest number of votes shall be con- :1: sidered elected." Accordingly, Dr. David Dobrcer '44, of Alhambra, ;j; CA, and Francis S. Mason, Jr., '43, of Ne'Y York City, have been elected to the Board of the College. :j: ++++++++ The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 f t >!<>!<~ Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 24 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1974 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Allanbrook, Wye Jamison Description An account of the resource Volume XXVI, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1974. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_26_No_1_1974 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/4de333b2d59f861fadb801f5a01d77fb.pdf 92bdad5bdbb751adbb1dc83a27a8e764 PDF Text Text St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico July 1974 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVI July, 1974 Number 2 Editor's Note: ON THE COVER: The tower of Richard D. Weigle Hall, Santa Fe, at sunset, as seen by Tutor Ray Williamson. Editor: Bcate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Michael W. Ham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Robert S. Zelenka. THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Director of College Relations. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland and at other mailing places. We had hoped to include Jacob Klein's lecture on the Phaedo in this issue. It has been crowded out and will now appear in the January issue of The College-the October issue being earmarked for the President's Report and campus and alumni news. The lecture on the Phaedo is timeless. But the Commencement and Baccalaureate addresses given in Santa Fe and Annapolis probably gain from appearing soon after they were delivered. Perhaps they will even elicit responses from our readers. The obituary notice on Franz Plunder also had to go in now and the Williamson account of the present generation of St. John's boatbuilders forms a suitable and seasonal companion piece. Perhaps I might add a footnote to it: When I visited those shipwrights in Edgewater just before the last Annapolis Boat Show, I heard that the chemical formula used for those fine craft gives more strength for less money and that its discoverer had his ~hemistry grounding in a St. John's laboratory. I feel this information should not be withheld from our readers. There seems. to me to be a deep, perhaps symbolical significance in it. B.R.v.O. IN THE JULY ISSUE: Richard Daniel Weigle, Celebration of an Anniversary. I Commencement Address, Annapolis, by Eva Brann. 3 Ideals and Action; Santa Fe Commencement Address, by David Ginsburg 7 11 Franz Plunder, by William A. Darkey Picture Credits: p. 1, Betty Lilientllal; p. 2, Robin West '77, Tom Farran; pp. 4-5, Demetrios Fotos; p. 17, St. John's College, Blakeslee-Lane, Inc.; pp. 18-20, Ray Williamson; pp. 21-23, Demetrios Fotos; p. 24, Tom Parran; inside back cover, Kelly-Springfield Tire Co. Two Writings in the Sand; Santa Fe Baccalaureate Address, by Michael Ossorgin 16 Plastering Day, by Ray and Abigail Williamson. 18 Commencements 21 Alumni Activities 23 �RICHARD DANIEL WEIGLE Celebration of an Anniversary "It is rarely given to a man to see the fruit of his work during his lifetime," said chairman David Ginsburg of the Board of Visitors and Governors. The occasion was the Annapolis commencement exercises on May 26th, as Mr. Ginsburg presented Richard D. Weigle with the first of two volumes of letters gathered in recognition of Mr. Weigle's 25 years as president of St. John's College. Silver anniversary celebrations started in Santa Fe on April 12th, when a surprise dinner party honoring Mr. and Mrs. Weigle was given by the faculty, students, and staff of the southwestern college. Mr. Weigle, an avid stamp collector whose specialty is Korea, rec,ived two Korean stamps in an inscribed leather desk folder. Mrs. Weigle was presented with a bracelet of Mexican silver set with lapis lazuli. On Saturday, April 20th, the Annapolis faculty feted the Weigles with a concert by the Juilliard String Quartet, a reception, and a formal dinner. At the latter a specially-designed silver medallion was presented to Mr. Weigle. John S. Kieffer, former president and dean, in making the presentation, said: "The faculty felt on the occasion of this 25th anniversary there should be a tangible token of respect and affection, something symbolic of the relationship you have established during your 25 years as president." The medallion depicts the problem of the duplication of the square from Plato's Meno, surrounded by a schematic representation of the seven liberal arts. It was created by Timothy Lloyd, a silversmith on the faculty of Carleton College in Northfield, Minn., where Mr. Weigle formerly taught. President and Mrs. Weigle, former Board chairman Mrs. Walter Driscoll, and current Board chairman David Ginsburg with plaque to be placed on Richard D. Weigle Hall in Santa Fe. Other speakers at the Annapolis dinner were retired tutor Ford K. Brown, retired tutor and former dean Jacob Klein, and senior tutor J. Winfree Smith. Earlier the same day, Dean Curtis A. Wilson expressed the sentiments of the faculty in introductory remarks before the concert. "We are indebted to you . . . for bringing this college out of precarious years to its present prosperity." HWe are aware of what these achievements have required and still require of you." " ... our admiration for the energy, the intelligence, and the honesty with which you have exercised among us the act of the imposI �The College John S. Kieffer, fanner president and dean, presents the faculty medallion to President Weigle. sible, including the improbable-that admiration remains undimmed. We wish to express to you our gratitude and thanks for your able leadership of this community." Then on May 19th, during the Santa Fe commencement exercises, Mrs. Walter Driscoll, former chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors, announced that the Tower Building, housing administrative offices, a faculty room, and part of the library, was being named Richard D. Weigle Hall. A bronze plaque to be placed on the building will read: "Richard D. Weigle Hall, so named with affection, gratitude, and respect by the faculty and the Board of Visitors and Governors of St. John's College to honor the 18th president of the College upon 25 years of dedicated service, during which this Santa Fe campus was conceived and realized." The Annapolis graduation exercises on May 26th saw not only the gift of the volume of letters, but the naming of Mr. Weigle as the College's first Distinguished Service Fellow. Dr. Thomas B. Turner '21, a member of the Board of Visitors and Governors for most of the 2'5 years being celebrated, read the following from the scroll which he presented to Mr. Weigle: The Board of Visitors and Governors of St. John's College, upon recommendation of the Faculty, hereby appoints Richard Daniel Weigle a Distinguished Service Fellow of St. John's College, upon his completion of twenty-five years of service. It thus recognizes his successful leadership of the College out of 2 Silver medallion from the Annapolis faculty. precarious years into its present well-being. His courage and faith in the College have conquered circumstance and disappointment and have made the future bright. He has cherished the College's program at home and has propagated it abroad. He has added local luster to the name of the College with his constructive civic activities. This incredibly busy man has yet found time to teach, for he has always thought of himself as a teacher. He is a splen· did presiding officer. He has the practical wisdom to make clear-cut decisions and to reconcile contrary opinions. Materially, he is a good provider and an imaginative builder. He had level-headed vision of a second St. John's College, and with his tireless energy and his skill in affairs he brought it to reality. He may be proud of his accomplishments, as St. John's College is proud of him. Letters of congratulations were read from Maryland's Governor Marvin Mandel and the Chamber of Commerce of Greater Annapolis, on whose board Mr. Weigle has served for many years. Mrs. Barbara Neustadt, an alderman on the Annapolis City Council, read a resolution honoring Mr. Weigle which had been passed by the Council. [See April issue.] �Commencement Address by Eva Brann St. Johns College, Annapolis Members of the Graduating Class of 1974, Today, the same day on which you cease to be transient members of the College, is the day on which you join us as its permanent members. Our polity provides for it to be so, and our common studies confirm the communion. Therefore I would like to speak to you today as members-at-large of the College, who are about to disperse into the world after having achieved a preliminary completion of our program of study. People who have been nourished in this way by a community are called, in Latin, its "alumni;" and I would like to speak to you as alumni. I mean I would like to speak as reasonably educated persons do talk to each other in the world at large, namely not about books but through books-by means of learning, but not, I hope, learnedly. I shall not say "Aristotle says in his N icomachean Ethics" or "J effcrson says in the Declaration of Independence," but I shall rather, in a small and backsliding way, directly imitate Jefferson, who in writing the Declaration drew on shelves of theory and yet, as he reports, "turned to neither book nor pamphlet while writing it." And this distinction between thinking more through books than about them is the maximum concession I can make to the otherwise obtuse separation of "life" and "study." Nearly everything I have to say is the consequence of having gone to the same school to which you have goneonly longer, and of having studied the same books you have studied-only more often. But there has been this difference: For me the college is what I fervently hope some spot in the world will someday similarly become for you: home, a precious place in a setting of wider and wider rings; an old school engaged in a timeless activity, set in the midst of a city with a modestly splendid past, lying in a region which appeared to its first discoverers as an earthly paradise, a region in turn contained in an old, enormous, sturdy republic. And although this perspective of a universe is, of course, obscured by all sorts of ugly overlays, there are gleams enough from the golden background. Before I actually begin I must also tell you that it is more than an honor, it is a piece of good fortune for me that you asked me to speak to you. In fact, hoping you might (since I have been altogether a senior tutor this year) I had already begun to make notes before you did. The reason was, that I have found certain opinions, derived, as I said, largely from life at the college, steadily shaping up into principles. You have probably yourselves experienced that condition in which almost all your reflections, inquiries, and conversations lead to the same conclusions. The course this settling-in of opinion usually runs is expressed by Lewis Carroll in The Hunting of the Snark by the notorious "rule of three": "What I tell you three times is true." When we have told ourselves the same thing thrice, the internal saying assumes the status of a conviction, and then it is a true boon to be allowed to formulate it publicly. I think it is appropriate to put forth these convictions as axioms. Axioms, as you will remember from your first days here with Euclid, are, literally, "propositions worthy of acceptance." Mine are on the brink of seeming selfevident to me, while they may seem arbitrary to you. All that is also in the word. But my axioms are neither quite independent nor very complete, and so they form no formal axiom system. At most they all fit consistently and comfortably into one picture. Insofar as they have any strength they arc most questionable. So it is only because I know that even the best-intentioned innovations are an embarrassment at ceremonies that I refrain from ca11ing for our usual question period afterwards. Let us reserve today for the rites of leave-taking and commencing. I will hold myself responsible to you by correspondence or conversation at a later time. I shall call my first axiom the axiom of l1icrarchy. It seems to me axiomatic that all largeness of sympathy, all delight in variety, all inclusive sentiment, has as its condition a firmly felt hierarchy of worth. Not only does the indiscriminate acceptance dispensed by those who are without such an inner hierarchy usually make its objects 3 �The College Here is a paragraph to poison all political life! For it admits that the civic virtues are to be found among ordinary people and then invites us to expose the meanness of these virtues and to look on the people with raised eyebrows. My axiom says, in contradiction, that mediocrity of this sort, ordinary, plodding, decent humanity, is not only to be readily admitted in ourselves but to be cherished in others, that it is not the opposite of excellence, but the ground from which excellence grows and the end for which it goes to work. The true opposite of the mediocrity is the monster, that peculiar willing aberration from ordinary humanity called an "intellectual." This program was never intended to develop that monster within us but rather our common humanity. Eva Brann delivers the Annapolis commencement address. feel as if they were being accosted, but such general permissiveness regularly goes with particular lovelessness. For him, on the other hand, who has a secret and silent table of goods and has established in his heart what is first and what second, even what is late and last will have its place, and so its worth. A chapter in a book by Dionysius the Areopagite, appropriately called Hierarchies, illustrates my meaning exactly. He explains that all the ranks of angels-princedoms, powers and dominions, down to the least-illuminated little angel-may equally be called ''heavenly powers/' because however low a rank an angel may hold, it is still a rank in the other world, in heaven. Why should not something similar hold for earth? It seems to me that all good communities, and this college among them, ought to and do contain such hierarchies, but I also think that they should remain tacit and unproclaimed because of my second axiom, the axiom of mediocrity. This axiom can be put most forcefully as a vigorous denial of the following passage from Beyond Good and Evil. Nietzsche observes that nothing has a future but what he calls the "morality of mediocrity," of which he says: But it is hard to preach this morality of mediocrityfor it can, after all, never admit what it is and what it wants! It must speak of measure and dignity and duty and neighbourly love-it will be hard put to it, to hide the irony!- 4 Let my third axiom be called the axiom of resistance. If the final test of our humanity is what we seek out, the next to final test is certainly what we say ''no" to. The axiom maintains that it is necessary to say "no" to most things that present themselves to us. There is an unforgettable anecdote in Plato's Republic. A man sees a pile of corpses lying near the gallows. He feels in himself an intense struggle of lust and aversion. Finally he runs over and forcing open his eyes, shouts at them: "Gape then, you wretches, and gorge yourselves on this lovely view." My axiom says that as often as possible the man shonld win and the eyes lose this battle. But not only bloody sights, rather all sorts of innocuous sightseeing come under the axiom of resistance as well. I do not need, or better, I need not to eye, to touch, to try everything. There are dozens of "experiences," for example, so-caiied Hother cultures," to which I mean to remain unsensitized and unexposed; there are dozens of dreadful problems I mean to do nothing about. The object of so resisting the world's impingement is that when I do look I may really see and when I do care I may really act. In rigorously excluding all sight-seeing our program is meant to prepare us for truly receptive travel. My fourth axiom says that a disciplined conformity is a necessary condition of diversity, and that a certain exclusiveness is required to ensure general access to good places. For if nothing is allowed to acquire flavor by stewing in its own juice, how can there be a number of pungently different things? And if nothing is allowed to coagulate and to take shape in peace, how can there be anything to which entrance is desirable? A graduate of this college long ago sent me a post card from Florence which I use as a book mark; so it has lain with Homer and Hegel. I take it from book to book because it is a picture of the shape and situation of such a desirable place: it is a Vasari fresco of a siege of Florence. The city, all in golden brown, crowded with domes and towers and tightly encircled by a wall, lies among the wide green hills over which the tents of the transient invader are scattered. The picture reminds me that to wish for flavor in life acnd to invade or liberate all its pockets is self-defeating. To want the �July, 1974 side effects, the aroma, of strong locales and to refuse to stew in the pot is a fast way to atomize the world. There is a wonderfully pungent Elizabethan sentence in Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici which perfectly makes my point. He says: For heads that are disposed unto schism and complexionally propense to innovation are naturally indisposed for a community, nor will ever be confined unto the order or economy of one body; and therefore when they separate from others, they ... do subdivide and mince themselves almost into atoms. This college has demanded a disciplined conformity precisely to keep its integrity and to prevent us from mincing ourselves into atoms. My fifth axiom is an attack on the spectre called The Future. It advises us against looking ahead to this future in setting our ends. Tire future is altogether non-being, and anyone who attempts to look to it, as does that new tribe of secular prophets who call themselves "futurologists," only succeeds in locking himself into a cage of contemperaneity; for such planning is never anything but a magnified projection of one aspect of the present onto the blessedly empty screen of things to be. Our reference should rather be to what is back of us, to the past (though not the very recent past which is usually very passe). I will let Robert Frost speak for me in some lines from "The Black Cottage": ... why abandon a belief Merely because it ceases to be true. Cling to it long enough, and not a doubt It will turn true again, for so it goes. Most of the change we think we see in life Is due to truths being in and out of favor. As I sit here, and oftentimes, I wish I could be monarch of a desert land I could devote and dedicate forever To the truth we keep coming back and back to. I think you have been for four years citizens of such a "desert" land, remote from fashion. My sixth is an axiom of conservation. It is partly permissive. It permits us to seize high or low adventure whenever it comes our way on the condition that we maintain a small steady feeling of guilt. It says that all manner of 1 excursions are allowable as long as we conserve a nagging remembrance that they are only diversions from some long-range labor or some life-long study. For example, two gentlemen in this very class set sail one day in the middle of the term. Of course, as generally happens to those in positive pursuit of peril, they were becalmed, but that is additional. When they returned, I looked grave as was my duty, but I saw that they had not for a moment succeeded in forgetting their proper business. And I also knew I would have done the same, in imitation of my hero Odysseus. That first exemplar of all such mindful adventurers preserves his longing for his rocky home through ten years of travel. He has his pleasure and his passion on the way, but he preserves his purpose, and that makes all his excursions lie on a secret highway home. (I know that what I have told you just now is true because a member of your class said the same in his senior essay.) The axiom of conservation also has a prescriptive side: It is required to choose recreations which have enough real relish in them to prevent that sinful and wasteful sadness the tlreologians call "acedia." Its secular version is an unresisting proneness to be bored with good things, with classical styles, with naive truths, with old orders. One of its symptoms is frantic and unsatisfying innovation-unsatisfying, for if anything is axiomatic it is that the search for mere novelty unfailingly turns up something obsolete. I do not think we have quite enough recreation of that conserving sort in this school. I wish we were nearer to the Forest of Arden-but then again, perhaps not. I will call my penultimate axiom the axiom of parochialism. I think the world once had centers, places like Athens, Jerusalem, Paris and-I say it with a smile-Boston, where a tradition was cherished and advanced. But it seems to me that Yeats was simply right two generations ago when he said in the "Second Coming" that: Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, though I think that he and all the soothsayers are wrong in expecting, as they do half-eagerly, a monstrous apocalypse. Our fate seems to me to be much more modest. We must proudly acknowledge that we are "out of it," whatever "it" may pretend to be, and that we are thrown upon ourselves in the effort to preserve our civilization, By "we" I mean all the little loci of the spirit: little circles of firm friends, little law offices, newspapers, workshops, little cities and lively little schools. These must hold the forts in the provinces against all the new barbarisms which so often come out of the large and wealthy conglomerations and establishments. Within such empires people are apparently constrained to turn the small sound ideas which come to all of us into large vapid conceptual 5 �The College engines, and the vestiges of right feeling we all preserve into fashionably sophisticated techniques. My axiom says that it is mainly little places-this college among them-which permit the modesty of pace needed for long thoughts, and the conditions of closeness under which human beings begin to stand out and become distinct in their first and second nature. These places are the veritable harbors of refuge and recovery for civilization. And now the final axiom, which I must call the axiom of the republic and which is the necessary complement to the parochial axiom. For the soil and seed-bed of all these small, saving places is the continent-wide republic of which most of us are citizens. My axiom says that one must never, never, assist in the demolition of any actual republic and least of all of this one, for it is a going good which is infinitely more valuable than any possible perfection. By an "actual republic" I mean not only a government which in the last analysis obeys the formal definition of the term "republic," namely ''a government of laws rather than men," but something both wider and more substantiala large public realm peopled by conscious citizens who are steadfastly committed to the preservation and interpretation of common traditions and common scriptures. Such a republic can be wrecked in several ways. It can be wrecked by crude means-by indifference, obtuseness or crookedness. Or it can be wrecked in sophisticated ways, and my axiom is especially concerned with two of the latter. One of these is the reckless habit of gleefully exposing the public traditions, a habit easily distinguishable from the mournful compulsion to set the record straight. It is what Burke, that most expressive of conservatives, calls the "barbarous philosophy" of those who, as he says in his Reflections on the Revolution in France: [dissolve] all the pleasing illusions which make power gentle and obedience liberal ... In the groves of their academy, at the end of every vista you see nothing hut the gallows. Nothing is left which engages the affections on the part of the commonwealth. The half-intended outcome, contained or rampant depending on the health of the republic, is terror. In this country we feel it for the most part only in that vanishingly mild form in which debate based on consensus gives way to the mere reactions characteristic of "confrontation." The second way is the thoughtless routine of aggres- tical religion." The laws of this republic, intended from the beginning to preserve the plurality of its communities, ought to be to us almost as scripture. My point in ending in this rather grand way is, just as I said, that the condition of possibility of small communities where one may find human happiness~among which I count this school-is the larger polity. But the American republic is only the condition of their possibility, and not at all the guarantee of their existence; in fact, I find it conceivable that we ourselves may be overwhelmed by adversity within it. But that would be its great shame and its great loss, because this education, this liberal education, in turn nourishes the soil in which all its practices are rooted. For brevity's sake I will simply assert here what I firmly believe I could make convincing to you, given time: I would point to the free and equal discussion of the seminar, to the deliberate absence of authoritative experts, to the essentially communal character of our concerns, as a proof that this program is first and last an imitation of and an initiation into the life of a citizen. That is why at your last dinner the Dean toasts the Republic, and why some of our most gratifying graduates are civil servants. These are my axioms, which I offer to you as worthy of belief. It would take much additional thought and exposition to turn them back into mere propositions worthy of reasoned assent. Nonetheless you will have seen by now into what intellectual world they all fit: all are addressed to the establishment and conservation of that sort of vivid but stable public world which we might as well call by the Greek name of "cosmos." So, then, in the light of such axioms as these what, finally, must I wish for you? It goes without saying that I wish you happy lives, if only because it is next to impossible to maintain a friendship with anyone whose life contains too little felicity. But it is to no purpose for me to wish anything concerning your private happiness. Our intimate affairs are so enigmatically compounded of being forever at the mercy of mere luck and of invariably getting exactly what we asked for that in this quarter wishing is quite futile. I arn therefore thrown for wishing on the public part of your happiness, with which the college was in any case most directly concerned. With respect to this part I do know what to wish. It is what I said in the beginning. I wish that you may find or form for yourselves a spot, a place, so shapely, so much what it was meant to be, that sively "questioning" the "whole system" of laws, a routine it becomes for you a continual incitement to virtuous quite separable from the labor of reflection and reform. It is this tendency which Lincoln, that most genuine of republicans, opposes when he urges in his speech called "On the Perpetuation of our Political Institutions," which you have recently read, [that reverence for the laws be] taught in all schools, in seminaries and in colleges; let it be written in primers, spelling books; and in Almanacs . . . The safety of our freedom, he says, lies in such a "poli- activity and a never-ceasing source of satisfying reflection. In sum, I wish you may go far-just so far from here that when you have found your place you may sometimes think of yourselves as virtually home again, with us. 6 Eva Brann is a frequent contributor to this magazine. She has been a member of the Annapolis faculty since 1957. �Ideals and Action by David Ginsburg St. Johns College, Santa Fe President Weigle, members of the Board and faculty, graduates and parents, students and friends: Historians often record the early thirties in America A generation later I came to know Robert Goldwin and President Weigle, attended two series of Washington seminars on the Republic and on Goldwin's favorite- character~ Locke's Second Treatise at Government, met Eva Brann, ized by joblessness, hunger, and fear. However, for me, Washington in those days was a place of joy and high intellectual excitement. Roosevelt had drawn to the city dedicated men with untrammeled minds. Younger acolytes, like myself, were proud to work with them. We hesitantly criticized their programs and endlessly wrote and re-wrote our own; we debated among ourselves and listened to others; talked with any newspaper man or Congressman who'd listen; discussed, far into tbe night, what could and should be done; when midnight came there was an unwritten rule that we'd go-or someone would go-for sandwiches and coffee; and thereafter we'd work a little more, sometimes until three or four in the Jacob Klein and a few other of your tutors in Annapolis and Santa Fe; joined your Board of Visitors and Governors and so came here today. A few weeks ago a sensitive Washington columnist, Tom Braden, published a piece that began with these as a time of anxiety and suffering, everywhere morning. I recall only one serious lapse from this state of grace. We had worked late, gone out for food and talk, and were returning to the office when someone noticed that at the old Belasco Theatre, then located across from the White House on Lafayette Square, Hedy Lamarr was playing in a film called "Ecstasy." Hedy in her ecstasy was more powerful than patriotism. Courageously, we sacrificed work for art and in that midnight show I saw-and relished-my first streaker. During those days, too, I first learned of St. John's College. Curiously, I am indebted for the introduction to the Federal Government's Department of Agriculture. The extension service of the Department ran a Graduate School for government employees and in its catalogue, one day, I read an announcement that a weekly two-hour evening class would be given by a Tutor from St. John's College in Annapolis. Over two semesters we read together Harvey's Motion of the Heart and Blood; Machiavelli's Prince and Discourses; Hobbes's Leviathan, the Federalist Papers and other greats far more familiar to you, unhappily, than to me. words: "There was something wrong with the education of those who surrounded President Nixon during the Watergate crimes, and I wonder whether our college and university presidents are giving any thought to the question of what it is. "It would be sad to think that ten or twenty years from now a future President would again surround himself with such bright young men, so well dressed, so well graduated and so ill-prepared to face questions of right and wrong." Since religious faith has become a lessened force in the lives of most of us, we are left with reason as the central guide for public morality. How important then, Braden says, are the educational system and "the great books which posed the great moral problems." For all of us the Bible is one of the Great Books-for me, the greatest-and the Great Books, collectively, the new Bible. Yet I suppose there isn't a man or woman in this graduating class who hasn't often asked, sometimes near despair: Does this rigid curriculum make sense? How does this endless discussion and analysis of ancient themes serve in the world in which I must live? Aren't we all captives of an intriguing idea-captives in an ivory tower? How many of your classmates who came here with you four years ago, are not here today because of difficulty and disillusionment with the curriculum and, at times, with what must have seemed an impossible volume of work? About 300,000 words of recently published Presidential conversations help to lay these doubts to rest. In the public 7 �The College "Does this rigid curriculum make sense?" domain there is now an edited record of dialogue amoog the men who held the highest power and the highest offices of trust in the Republic. All had been educated and trained by some of the great colleges and universities of the nation. Call the roll-Yale, Columbia, Brown, University of Southern California, and UCLA, Williams, Duke and others-in the East, in the West, and in the South. None endowed these men with a capacity for moral questioning, with a commitment to intellectual integrity, with a sense of what's important in the history of our own country, with an understanding that even great ends cannot justify violent and disreputable means. Less than two weeks ago the Omaha World-Herald commented: "Involved here is not question of Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative, or of a company of his enemies out to 'get' the President. This is a matter of right or wrong, telling the truth or not telling the truth." A day later the Chicago Tribune commented more specifically: "It is a lack of concern for morality, a lack of concern for high principle, a lack of commitment to the high ideals of public office that make the transcripts a sickening exposure of the man and his advisers." T11ere was not one noble man in the White House. None, not one, had the courage or the wisdom to say these steps must not be taken because they are evil and violate our history and tradition. I may be naive but I think it would have made a difference if at least a few of these men had had what this College, uniquely, provides as a liberal education-an understanding of the source books and the seminal ideas that illuminate the recurring and intractable questions of government and personal life that confront free men. These books and ideas, as the catalogue now states with headline force, "have great relevance to the contemporary problems with which we have to deal." Three decent men left the Administration, after confrontation, by dismissal or resignation; all the others, including the Vice-President, were forced from office by disclosure or indictment; meanwhile the investigation of the President continues and the threat of impeachment hangs over the land like a thick black cloud. Nothing that Sophocles wrote will ever touch your generation more deeply than the tragedy unfolding in Washington. I don't know what went wrong. In its most fundamental sense I believe what happened was a failure of education. For years many colleges and universities acted as if the idea of a liberal education was obsolete, refusing to provide a curriculum or a teaching discipline that in 8 an orderly way sought to transmit to each generation what was important in the accumulated thought of our civilization. Lacking standards we lost our way and our capacity for outrage. There were other factors. What was moral erosion we described as moral change and healthy moral growth. We accepted activism at the expense of understanding acnd scholarship. We insisted on immediate and practical relevancy and thereby undercut the study of the arts and humanities-losing our grasp of the great ideas of justice, truth and freedom. Some educational instihrtions grew too large; many helplessly subordinated education to politics. And almost all undergraduate colleges were enlisted in support of the professional schools. Specialization thus came much too soon for most undergraduates. We didn't give them time enough to learn what was fundamental, before teaching them what was practical. I think my own profession-the law-has suffered most. As the Wall Street Journal said last week, "a dozen lawyers have been caught up in the Watergate scandals, and the legal profession has now been jolted by the White House tape transcripts, which suggest the country's best known lawyer-President Nixon-and two of his lawyer-assistants cynically considered exploiting the law enforcem,nt system for political purposes." At a recent meeting at the Harvard Law School we were told that many members of the faculty were now making a conscious effort to underscore ethical problems in their teaching. One would have thought by the time a student entered law school he would have had ample preparation in moral questions. Schools of business administration and government are also beginning to leaven their teaching with the yeast of ethics. "There was not one noble man in the W bite House." The truth seems to be that moral failure in Washington has begun to sensitize much of the rest of the country to the moral problems that have concerned you so deeply for the past four years. If now you choose business as your life's work, I believe you'll find that there is a new and growing respect in that community for decency, and for those who inquire, challenge and propose improvements. Thoughtful businessmen recognize that they are facing problems today for which the precedents have no ready answers. If, instead, you choose further training in a profession -in law, business, medicine, research and teaching, engineering, the ministry-you'll find that the structure of professional learning will fit comfortably on the founda- �July, 1974 tions you have obtained here. The skills you have acquired -to read searchingly, to write clearly, to speak precisely, to think logically and to ask the hard questions-are the best possible preparation for professional training. Moreover, a changing society is imposing new problems and unprecedented strains on the professions as well as on business. They, too, need rational minds that can cope with ultimate questions as well as the special learning. wise action must be shaped by ideals." Some of you, I hope, will seek employment in public service and to you I give special encouragement. For four years, under the guidance of dedicated tutors, you have been engaged in a continuing and intense conversation with the wisest men our civilization has produced. At the same time a unique, two-hundred-year experiment in the government of the most powerful, free, and democratic society in the world is being subjected to new and terrible strains. As I see it, our basic institutions have demonstrated great flexibility and strength and have performed admirably; our need is for men and women who understand and respect the sources of these institutions. Never before in my lifetime have we had so many young and able men and women in the House and Senate; it is the Executive Branch now that needs fresh blood and wise support. I urge you not to let the scandals of a single administration dissuade you from government service if you are otherwise drawn to it. I drove over a bridge the other day that crosses the Charles River, leading to Harvard Square in Cambridge. A quotation from Solomon on the dedication stone somehow brought to mind this graduation: "The multitude of the wise," it said, "is the welfare of the world." We have had something less than a multitude of the wise in Washington lately; our government needs help especially -in my prejudiced view-from those who have been educated as you have been educated. This conclusion-and recommendation-is grounded on the judgment that a classical liberal education for those who can absorb it is the best predicate for the role of citizen. Not everyone agrees. Some feel that you may, indeed, have been deluded and possibly even disabled by your concentration on the great issues addressed here -justice, freedom, truth. Do those issues really have practical and continuing meaning in government and otherwise in your own lives? My answer is that they do-but only if we are willing to accept a continued tension between life and learning. What finally appalled the country about the published transcripts is the total absence of any such tension in the remarks of the President and his advisors. But neither are generalized declarations of high principle enough. Living problems cannot be solved with formulas. I do not believe there is any absolute truth or even any absolute ideal of conduct. Nor do I believe that virtue is its own reward; the only satisfying reward for effort is achievement which generally is a product of compromise. Certainly in government accommodation is essential; all we can ask is to achieve what is attainable, and clearly understand what we have failed to achieve. I agree with the Jesuit priest who lives at the Watergate and works for Mr. Nixon, who said the other day that we don't want a saint in the White House. I think it's also a fact that we never had one there. TI1e Federal electoral process is not a New England town meeting, and the truth is that a New England town meeting never met the Athenian ideal. What is essential is to understand the tap roots of our society and to create social and governmental institutions that can be nurtured "Some of you, I hope, will seek employment in public service, and to you I give special encouragement.'' by these roots. No nation ever lived according to Plato's Republic; every nation can, however, profit from some of its teachings. The wise profit more. Whoever sits in the Oval Office in the White House must wrestle with real problems that can't be answered by Platonic absolutes or Aristotelian rationality; how deal with a Mayor Daley? a Governor Wallace? a Jimmy Hoffa? a Major Calley? How cope with a Nasser? a Brezhnev? How should the Administration act after the Bay of Pigs? after the U-2 incident? There are things in the Watergate papers which accord with the tactical processes in which all politicians must and do engage. The question is how do we prevent the classical ideal from sinking into life itself and being engulfed by it. Abraham Lincoln, surely one of our greatest and most beloved Presidents, was also one of our most tactical politicians. How could so moral a man tolerate slavery? Yet Lincoln refused to end slavery, not because he believed in it but because of what he regarded as his larger responsibility-the preservation of the Union. The Emancipation Proclamation was tactically timed to weaken the South after the War began, not to serve justice or freedom. Woodrow Wilson rejected the Lodge Reservations out of high principle and failed to secure Senate approval of the Versailles Treaty. What did he achieve? John F. Kennedy made some horrendous judicial appointments in the South in order to secure the enact- 9 �The College ment of the Civil Rights Acts by the Congress. Was he wrong? Robert Hutchins is a man of the highest moral standards-so high that he could not relate those standards to necessary behavior. Many once saw Hutchins as a potential philosopher-king; unhappily, philosophy may have disabled him from being a king. One wonders whether Adlai Stevenson, too, would have been comfortable and effective making the often unpleasant, half-satisfying decisions that the wise exercise of political power requires. There must, I believe, be a tension in the resolutiOn of issues between learned principles and life requirements. A liberal education points the direction for action; only a larger wisdom enables effective action to be taken. In 1951 Judge Learned Hand, a man whose integrity was respected by the entire nation, was invited to testify before the Senate Committee on Labor and Public Welfare. The subject, then as now, was the low state of public morals and what Congress could do about it. At one point Senator Fulbright, a member of the subcommittee, pressed Judge Hand to explain why the· profession of politics had suffered so precipitious a decline in the esteem of the people. He first asked whether this had been true in the early days of the Republic. Here is Judge Hand's reply: "I just do not know. I do not know enough about history. We believe, and I think properly, that when the men who met in 1787 to make a Constitution made the best political document ever made, they did it very largely because they were great compromisers. Do not forget that. They did put in the Bill of Rights afterwards; but the thing that made it stick was that they were great compromisers as to the immediate issues which were before them." What Judge Hand was saying, I think, is that greatness in politics (I think this is true in diplomacy as well) 10 requires men not to draw too sharp a line; not to press for confrontation; to find ways, instead, to accommodate differences. "Living problems cannot be solved with formulas." My central concern today has been to suggest that wise action must be shaped by ideals. The recent record of action devoid of ideals, by men to whom we have entrusted the power of the State, has traumatized the country. But neither can a modern, democratic, industrial society -unlike perhaps the society of the Middle Ages in Europe -survive indifference, withdrawal or inaction allegedly to preserve the purity of ideals. The reality is that the worse things are, the more we have to do; we can affirm ourselves and test our ideals only in action. A phrase from a speech by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes lingers in my mind: "Man," he said, iS born a persistent idealist, for he is born to act. To act is to affirm the worth of an end, and to persist in affirming the worth of an end is to make an ideal." 41 David Ginsburg, a Washington, D.C. attorney with a background in government service, is currently chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College. He received his undergraduate educa- tion at West Virginia University, and holds a law degree from Harvard Law SchooL Mr. Ginsburg heads the Washington law firm of Ginsburg, Feldman and Bress. �Two Writings in the Sand by Michael Ossorgin Santa Fe Baccalaureate Address Members of the Class of 1974: Eighteen years ago, when you were very, very young, and I was a freshman tutor in Annapolis, I heard an elder, wise tutor, a senior colleague, Mr. Simon Kaplan, say, "Deep down, our Western heritage grows from two living roots: a little Plato and a little Bible." Through all my years at St. John's, I remembered what he said, and came to see what he meant, perhaps not exactly in the same places where he saw it himself. I shall share with you in speech what I caught a glimpse of in these eighteen years. At the living roots of our heritage, I found the age-old enigma as to 'where we are, where we have been, and where we are ultimately going.' From these roots I found our ultimate horizon opening up at two particular lookouts, one in Athens and one in Jerusalem; and as it began to open up, I caught a glimpse of something serenely and quietly radiant with an imperishable radiance. Be my guests in speech, as I am your guest at your service, your Baccalaureate service. Now, with all the courage, tact, and humility I can muster, I shall face the enigma at our living roots, and the ultimate horizon opening from them, by glancing at two writings in the sand: one in Athens, and one in Jerusalem; or, one by Socrates in the Meno, in the episode with the slave boy, and one by Christ Jesus in the Temple in Jerusalem, when he is being tested on a point in the Law, in the case of the woman taken in adultery. I must immediately remind myself and caution you that traditionally only kings and prophets were expected to face the age-old enigma and the ultimate horizon opening from it. This appears to have been their most characteristic preoccupation as public figures, as kings and prophets. It has not always been a popular preoccupation with the average citizens-witness Socrates' and Christ's deaths in their times, as common criminals against their political communities. Witness Lincoln's assassination in the times much closer to our own. Yet their VISions have persisted through generations and continue to do their work within our heritage, in our times, including our St. John's program, owing chiefly to three very simple reasons that have to do with the way we are or are capable of being, at our learning best. Let me try to identify these reasons for you. First of all, I believe that we are capable at times of being summoned to face this radical enigma of the ages in our ongoing lives, as to where we are, where we have been, and where we are ultimately going. Secondly, I believe that in facing this enigma we are both equipped and capable of proceeding by whatever paths are avilable to us, to whatever best points of lookout are available to us, from which to catch a glimpse for ourselves of our ultimate horizon opening up, and then, perhaps, at that precise moment discern 'Plato coming back,' as Whitehead puts it, or 'Christ coming back' as Dostoievski has it. And finally, I believe that with these two abilities of ours fully engaged and realized, we discover a third one and its full realization: the ability truly to stand in wonder as we catch a glimpse of our ultimate horizon opening up before us, and disclosing an imperishable radiance within our heritage. Without these three abilities of ours and of our predecessors, which I tried to identify, whatever their origin may be in us, without their full engagement and realization I do not see how on earth anyone can enter into full inheritance of his living heritage and pass it on to his children; I do not see how on earth what Socrates saw in Athens, what Christ saw in Jerusalem, what Lincoln saw in Gettysburg, could have lived in our tradition of learning, through generations of students and teachers. And yet I know that when we are summoned to face the enigma in the midst of our ongoing life, we begin to rise to the level of the citizens in Athens and in Jerusalem, who, in their public life and on their public stages, were always cognizant of their kings and prophets, and were II �The College always willing to learn from the confrontations and conversations between their kings and their prophets, whose job is was to keep in touch with their own destinies and those of their flock, and hence whose job it was to discern our common ultimate horizon. We ourselves no longer seem to have kings and prophets in our public life, on our public stages, for they have been replaced by our best-selling stars and superstars, or various leading committees, and they are not of quite the same breed as kings and prophets of the old. Yet if we but carefully reread the Gettysburg Address, or our other founding scripts by our founding fathers, we see the same phenomenon occurring. They too, like kings and prophets of the old, came to face the age old enigma and to discern our common ultimate horizon. Now I shall proceed to my first lookout in a prison cell in Athens at the end of the Phaedo. I don't arrive there cmptyheaded, for on my way I found out a few things. The path I took is the one prescribed by Socrates to Glaucon and to all fit guardians, rulers, princes, kings, of good cities, the path of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. From the outset I come across a handful of findings: First, I saw that I was deviating from the path of the poets and the historians who comprehend with the arts of the trivium our ever-changing temporal horizons within our ongoing lives. Instead, on the path of the quadrivium, I began to peer at the abiding aspects of this our common, visible, and tangible world, ever-present to our lives here in Santa Fe, and in Gettysburg, and in Athens, and in Jerusalem, and everywhere on this our earth, where the sun rises and sets, day follows night, seasons follow seasons, years follow years, man generates man, generations succeed generations without visible gaps, cities rise and fall, students enroll and graduate-all this under the grand processional of stars and planets that mark our times and seasons on this our earth in our ongoing life. Still, with my quadrivial skills, like any student from the time of Pythagoras to our day, I had my doubts as to whether this ever-present visible and tangible universe of ours, where everything is countable, has magnitude, has bodies at a standstill and in motion, or finally, is motion, whether the world itself, and in its own right, independently from our skills, is truly mathematical. My doubts were somewhat dispelled when I came across my next finding on this path, a Pythagorean Lyre. For here in the strings stretched on a frame, you have 'bodies' of a certain magnitude at a standstill. You strike them, and the strings, these bodies, are set in motion; their motion produces musical sounds and harmonies, and in producing these sounds, these vibrating strings literally begin to count in whole natural numbers in arithmetic progression I, 2, 3, 4 . . . ; in counting, they literally begin to divide the magnitude, the length of the strings according to whole number ratio: I :2, 2:3, 3:4 ... ; and according to a harmonic progression: I, 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1!5 12 .... Here at the Lyre, the visible and tangible world speaks back to us, as it spoke to the Pythagoreans, in a full voice with each and every aspect it has, as considered separately and together in the sisterhood of the quadrivial disciplines. Again at the Lyre, I come upon the next finding of abiding significance. Namely, when I take the simplest, the first, and the most harmonious of all intervals, the octave, and try to find its precise middle, where the octave is divided into two equal halves, into two equal, symmetrical intervals, I find nothing for the ears to hear, so to speak, and everything for the eyes to see, to see in a figure, in a geometrical figure, in a square. I find with the Pythagoreans in the middle of the octave the square root of two, and the universe at this.point becomes speechless, loses its voice, its harmony, becomes voiceless, becomes squared away, as we might say, away from the Pythagorean Lyre, into a Pythagorean Script, in figures at a standstill, voiceless, speechless, motionless, but visible and intelligible, and eventually programmable into our computers. it is here in the Pythagorean Script that something written takes precedence over something voiced, down to the letters of the alphabet that are visible to us on the pages of Euclidean geometry, next to points, lines, figures, solids. It's their position on the page to our eye_ that counts, not the sound that goes with them in the spoken word. I picture the Pythagorean Script as executed according to three most elementary rules of writing which are all too familiar to us as the first three Euclidean postulates: "To draw a straight line from any point to any point;" "To produce a finite straight line continuously in a straight line;'' ~<To describe a circle with any center and distance." At this point I begin to perceive Socrates in the Meno drawing squares in the sand with his finger for the slave boy to show Meno that the boy is tmly capable of learning geometry through re-collection, or re-cognition. Ultimately it turns out to be a finding of abiding significance, namely, that the soul as given even to a slave boy has seen all, has perceived our common ultimate horizon, and is capable of orienting itself within it with deeply grasped geometrical principles and skills by starting to trace and measure distances and shapes of things, and drawing maps in answer to the question, the age-old enigma, where we are, where we have been, and where we are ultimately going. For the question 'where' is essentially a geometrical and astronomical question. And it is here, at what I called the Pythagorean Script, that I find a distinction that Socrates makes in the Republic, a distinction between things written, and I repeat, written, not spoken, in small letters-deep in our souls, and in Big Letters-deep in our cities. Both big and small letters begin to appear to me as the mler or 'ruling principles' implied in the three Euclidean postulates, deeply imbedded in the souls even of slave �July, 1974 boys, and in our cities in the Big Book of the Laws and Constitutions of the land, in the hands of its rulers: kings, propositions on which it is founded, like 'all men are created equal.' "Equal" is also the predicate of all propositions in the first four books of Euclid. At this point, I observe Socrates in the Meno, after he has drawn squares for a small boy, a slave boy, beginning to talk to a big man, a public figure in the city Athens, to Anytus, the very man who eventually throws the Big Book at him, the Book written in Big Letters that ends Socrates' life of philosophical pursuits. I am now at the threshold of the prison cell in Athens, in the Phaedo, to which I was going in the first place. And it is here on this threshold that for the first time I catch a glimpse of the awesome appearance of man as 'a truly rational and a truly political animal.' I call him awesome, because he appears faceless and heartless (and bloodless), divested of precisely that which mostly manifests his humanity to our naked eyes, namely his face and his heart. For under the law of the land, we Pythagorean sense, and a complete man in any sense of the word. In the beginning of the Phaedo I notice that Socrates has been composing music, setting to music the words of Aesop and a hymn to Apollo, the god of light, the lyre, and the bow. I shall consider this his lyric song, his song at the lyre, the Pythagorean Lyre, his swan song, the swan song of philosophy to what is going on in our ongoing lives in our ever-changing horizons, divested of genuine philosophical pursuits. At the end of the Pbaedo, Socrates does what the Big Book in Big Letters thrown at him prescribed him to do: he drinks the cup of poison to end his sentenced life according to the prescribed sentence, keeping in touch with the ruling principles deeply embedded in the life of the city, his city of Athens. As the poison prescribed and taken voluntarily works its way from his feet to his heart, he keeps also in touch in speech with the twelve youths, with the ruling principles deeply embedded in their souls engaged on the course of studies, on the way to the wholeness of their and his philosophical lives and stand not so much with our feet, legs, arms, bodies, faces, vision of our ultimate horizon. or even hearts; we stand under the law mostly with our Now I finally come to what is at his heart and at the heart of classical philosophy: princes, guardians, custodians of its constitution and the heads, counted as equal, discrete, and homogeneous units like units in arithmetic, without faces and without hearts, hence without blush, or tears, or smiles. I call his appearance awesome also because, as a truly rational and political animal, he appears self-sufficient, godlike, empowered with the sovereign and awesome power of providing for himself like nobody's business, the lofty and proud master of his own destiny, dazzling in his arrogance and brilliance. Finally, I call his appearance awesome because he reminds me a little of Cain who, in the Book of Genesis, is walking out of the presence of God with a mark on him left by God at his request for his preservation, a mark which I am ready to read as arithmetical Dne,' the origin of all arithmetical units; and then I see Cain on his own become the founder of the first city in the Bible, a prosperous city, where arts and crafts begin to flourish; and I begin to understand his prophetic words to God: "From Thy face I shall be hidden, and I shall be a fugi1 tive and a wanderer on this earth." Now I am ready to step into the prison cell in the Phaedo and to see beyond this awesome appearance of 'a truly rational and political animal' who bears a sign on his forehead of the original arithmetical 'one,' and I shall come into the presence of the man whose name is Socrates. I am ready to catch a glimpse as to how Socrates has fulfilled the Pythagorean Script-from A to 0, from the middle of the octave in the Pythagorean Lyre to the point of division at the Pythagorean Ruler, the division between the written letters, Big and small. Furthermore I am ready to say how he has fulfilled the Script from his head to his toe, at his heart, a complete philosopher in the an image and a trust; an icon and an act of faith, (trust and faith translating the same Greek word ,-lum which appears on the divided line in the Republic), I come to Socrates' own last and lasting image, Socrates' own last and lasting act of trust, his last testament to the twelve youths in his schooling, the cover on his face-his own icon, the eyes gazing upward-his own act of trust, made visible to them and to us. The cover on his face, his mask, his irony: as transparent as the clearest pool of water, and as reflective and reflecting as the calm surface of the same clearest water in the same reflecting pool. The cover, the blindfold on his face, is transparent to the blinded eyes it covers, eyes in a fixed, motionless upward gaze. The cover reflects at the same time the very source that blinds the eyes from above the cover, the awesome, blinding rays of the invisible Good gazed at, at the last moment of a life committed to the love of learning in order to understand our ultimate horizon at the source of its illumination, to which he himself gives the name of the Good. With blinded eyes, wide open, motionless, the mouth open wide, breathless, speechless, the heart, the whole man, his whole body at a standstill in the stillness of a geometrical solid, in the final act of trust of a lifetime committed to understanding, an icon in itself visible to all of the very fulfillment of the Pythagorean Script from A to 0, from head to toe, written both in the Big and the small letters in the stillness of the whole man, at his heart at a standstill, at the center of his humanity made 13 �The College visible and palpable to all. Here I pause in wonder, as the ultimate horizon is opening up to philosophy treading in the footsteps of Socrates to his ultimate lookout point in the end of the Phaedo, and at the end of his life, as preserved to us in the writings of Plato. Now from 'a little Plato' to 'a little Bible.' I take a very short cut. I shall proceed directly to the second writing in the sand by the one often addressed publicly as teacher by his contemporaries, whose name is Jesus, the name still often heard from our lips, when we feel strongly about something and at the same time feel free with our language. I find this a remarkable phenomenon, namely, that we occasionally feel free to express what's in our hearts with his name. It seems to reveal, in spite of our intentions, that at heart we are not indifferent to him, but rather touched by him one way or another. And that I find as something to wonder at after all these centuries. The writing in the sand takes place in Jerusalem, in the Temple that traces its origin to King Solomon. Matthew, the writer of the first gospel, also traces the genealogy of Jesus, his bloodline, to exactly the same source, King Solomon, without hesitating to spell it all out as follows: "David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah," that is to say, by another man's wife, whose name is Bathsheba. I find this an astonishing prelude to Jesus being in this Temple in Jerusalem, as he faces one particular woman caught in adultery. Now I am ready to consider the writing in the earth that he does with his finger in the Temple in Jerusalem, John, Chapter VIII, 1~ 11: "Jesus went to the Mount of Olives and early in the morning he came again into the temple, and all the people came unto Him and having sat down He was teaching them. And the scribes and Pharisees brought to him a woman taken in adultery, and when they had set her in the midst, they said to him, "Teacher, this woman was taken in the very act of committing adultery. Now Moses in the Law com· manded us, that such should be stoned, but you, what do you say?" This they said tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus, hav~ ing stooped down, with his finger wrote on the ground. So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said to them, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." And again having stooped down he wrote on the ground. And they which heard it and by their own conscience being convicted, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest until the last; and Jesus was left alone and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself and saw none but the woman, he said to her: Woman, where are your accusers? Has no man condemned you?" She said, "No man, Sir." And Jesus said to 11 14 her, "Neither do I condemn you; go and sm no more." Members of the Class of 1974, it appears to me that what Jesus was writing with his finger on the ground, on the piece of the promised land, of the Holy Land, were 'the two commandments' as he calls them, 'on which,' according to him, 'all the Law hangs and the Prophets also': 'the first and the greatest commandment,' and 'the second like it.' (Matthew 22:34 ... , Mark 12:28 ... , Luke 10:25 ... ) When he stoops down the first time, he writes with his finger what appears to be the first of the two commandments: "Thou shalt love the lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy intelligence.'' At this point the woman's accusers still persist with their questioning and testing him in the name of God and his servant Nioses, who came down from the mountain into the desert wtih the stone tablets and the Law engraved on them. So Jesus, in keeping with the spirit of the first of the two commandments, says to them: "He that is without sin among you let him cast the first stone."_ Then he stoops down again, for the second time, and writes what appears to be the second of the two commandments: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." At this point each man present begins to look into himself, and, each having looked into himself, they all leave, not as they came, for they came loudly and together, but they leave quietly and one by one, starting at the eldest and the wisest unto the last. Then Jesus, noticing that they are all gone, and that he is left alone with the woman, addresses her in the spirit of the two commandments, each illuminating the other at his heart: first he says, "Neither do I condemn you," and then, "Go and sin no more." And so it appears that with his finger Jesus transposes the Law engraved in the tablets from the stone into the earth, the same earth on which he stooped down, on which the woman stood, on which the custodians of the Law of the Land, her accusers and his testers, stood, namely their common Holy Land in this their Holy Temple. In doing so he leaves in their hands nothing but stones with which to stone the woman or him or both. And yet the custodians of the Law were able to look into themselves and read the Law as written deeply in their hearts before God, the giver of both their Land and their Law. Thus Jesus with his humanity has restored the woman and her accusers to their humanity, uplifting it gracefully to the Law before God, the Mosaic Law of the Holy Land on which he stoops down, writes, and rises, on which they all stand and walk. �July, 1974 At this point I catch a glimpse of a remarkable reversal within our ultimate horizon. At my first lookout point in the prison cell in Athens, what I saw was stretched from the Lyre into the Script. What I see here at my second lookout point in the Temple in Jerusalem is stretched from the Script into the Lyre in the reverse order of abiding consequences. Before taking a look at the consequences, I notice that prison and temple are also two images, two radically different icons of the human body with a view to what is simply good: the first from Athens, the second from Jerusalem. And now to the consequences, of the reversal between the Script and the Lyre. Jesus, by his own account, came to fulfill the Law and the Prophets. The Law, to begin with, is the Script engraved in the stone tablets, and the Lyre is in the hands of the Prophets composing, writing, and singing their songs before God, and recovering the spirit, or the breath, of the Law to the breath and the heartbeat of human life. Already in the Book of Samuel we see bands of Prophets coming down from high places with lyres, or psalteries, in their hands. King David was especially skilled at the lyre or psaltery. By far the largest number of the Psalms in the Psalter is attributed to him, by the inscriptions that mark them in the Psalter, which is Israel's hymn book. Many of the Psalms carry the musical and the liturgical directions for their use in the worship. in this Temple. King David is also credited with organizing this worship and the cantors. Now in the story of Jesus, the woman, and her accusers, at the precise moment of humanity restored and gracefully uplifted to the Law in this Temple I see King David coming back with the Psalm 51-which bears this remarkable inscription for all times and for all generations: "To the choirmaster Psalm of David when the Prophet Nathan came to him because he had been with Bathsheba." Likewise, when Jesus' own hour comes for which he came to fulfill the Law and to be crucified, he begins on the cross another song of King David's, Psalm 22:1, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" In the end he alters Psalm 31:5, "Father, unto Thy hands I commend my spirit." and with these words he breathes his last. Thus it appears that where Jesus goes, in touch with his own destiny, fulfilling the Law, he recognizes in public that King David was there before him, with the lyre and the song, singing the way of his and his people's destiny before God as preserved and kept alive in the liturgical tradition of the Temple. And that's what I call 'Biblical recollection,' deeply embedded within our heritage, within our ultimate horizon. I gave you a sample of such Biblical recollection in the simple case where two people, in touch with their respective destinies, meet and fully recognize each other even acrcoss generations or whatever else that might separate them within their common ultimate horizon. And when this happens, I see the stiffnecked, redblooded people becoming radiant with imperishable radiance-in their Temple, in their homes, in their schools, on their streets, in their ongoing lives: from the Script into the Lyre. And from this point of lookout in the Temple in Jerusalem, I perceive in the prison cell in Athens something similar occurring, something I failed to see when I first got there: Socrates and the jailer recognizing each other and saying to those around, what a good man the other is. Members of the Class of 1974, this is the end of my speech. With it I tried to uncover for you a touch of faith, a touch of holiness at the living roots of our heritage, in this place of your choosing, the Church of the Holy Faith. With the speech I also tried to point towards the imperishable radiance within our ultimate horizon, as I came to catch a glimpse of it. See for yourselves in your own ways, at your own lookouts. And now, instead of the customary prayer, I should like to pass on to you another verse from the Book of Psalms: "This is the day that the Lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it." (Ps. 118:24) Thank you. Michael Ossorgin has been a member of the St. John's faculty since 1956, and has been a tutor in Santa Fe since 1966. He attended the Lye&: Rosse and the Conservatoire Rosse a Paris, and holds the L.Th. degree from the Institut de Theologie Orthodoxe, Paris. 15 �The College Franz Plunder Franz Plunder, left, and students at work on a "Plunder" sailboat in the early 1940's. Bregenz, Austria 23 Aprill974 Franz Plunder, Artist-in-Residence at St. John's College from 1940 to 1944, died two months ago, on the day after his eighty-third birthday, in this small Austrian town where he was born. My wife and I are visiting his widow. I am writing this at a table in Franz's favorite coffee-house. Recollections of him become very vivid here. The woodwork of the booth where we are sitting might almost be his handwork. To those of us who knew Franz at St. John's it is hard to imagine him as an octogenarian. To us he seemed somehow timeless, from the first an heroic figure, a man, perhaps, of another age or another world and stronger than any of us. As Homer says of Odysseus, "A green old age was his." And it is chiefly as a latter-day Odysseus that we seem at first to remember him, the nearest incarnation of Odysseus we are ever likely to meet. Franz first came to St. John's in 1940 as Artist-in-Residence to teach sculpture, but it was as a builder of boats and a sailor that he caught our imagination. My own first memory of him is of an evening in the King William Room when he showed us slides and told us the story of 16 a boat with an unpronounceable name that he had·built here on the Lake of Constance and sailed with his wife, Olga, down the Danube, through the Black Sea, and out among the Greek Islands on the Aegean. Later we heard a doubtful legend about how with his own hands he had built a boat (with the same unpronounceable name) and, with three companions, had sailed across the Atlantic from Hamburg to New York. This legend turned out to be true, and so did others like it. He came to us as Odysseus, but it was chiefly as Daedalus that he lived and worked with us. He had been trained in both sculpture and boat designing. He had practiced successfully in both of these fields in Europe and America. When he came to St. John's, the intention was that he should provide interested students with instruction in the fine arts as disciplines complementary to the liberal arts. This was the beginning, but Franz's own interest in boats and that of many students and tutors soon produced a shop in which he directed the building of many fine boats, both privately and for the College fleet. I once found later generations of students referring to the College boats as "the plunders" without guessing where this strange name had come from. The "plunders" have been replaced now by a fleet of dinghies, but there are many other reliques of Franz's handwork on the Annapolis campus, chiefly the fine walnut study tables on which thirty years of student papers have been written, and the octagonal table in the Coffee Shop which has been the focus and catalyst of conversations beyond numbering. Objects like these that combine beauty with strength and usefulness have a peculiar dignity that reflects the spirit of their maker, and these pieces might bear the motto the old builders used, "F.P. me fecit." �July, 1974 by William A. Darkey But the figure of Daedalus, the builder, is not really adequate for recalling Franz. Odysseus is certainly better. Like Odysseus, Franz hated war and things military from the bottom of his soul, yet he too was forced by the necessity of his time to become a soldier in two world wars, first as a young man with the Austrian army in 1914, and again in 1944 when he left St. John's to serve with the United States Military Intelligence against the Nazis who had overrun his homeland. He and Olga finally returned to Bregenz to stay in 1957. There Franz built another boat, the tenth and last of that same unpronounceable name, and they sailed her daily on the Lake. And he made a few last works of sculpture. Franz seemed to us, when we were students, to be above all a romantic adventurer. Sooner or later, though, we discovered that, like all adventurers worth our interest-like Odysseus, for instance-he was also an adventurer of ideas, because adventure, after all, is the approach to the meaning of things, and requires the qualities of honesty and courage and resourcefulness and curiosity and thoughtfulness and humor and love of life that Franz possessed so fully. He was a gifted dreamer; therefore he also became a storyteller. In 1950 he wrote a novel in which he attempted to approach the meaning of his life as an artist in a world of wars. Again, quite at the end of his life, he had the courage and the curiosity to explore his lifetime in an autobiographical memoir which he published under the title, Sowitasgollt, the unpronounceable name of each of his ten boats, and Austrian dialect for "as far as it goes." Thinking of Franz this week here in Bregenz it has become clear to me that all of us who knew him and worked with him and shared his friendship recognized without quite articulating it to ourselves that he had a A "Plunder" at the college pier. relation to us much more important than that of the builder and the sailor. Quite simply, we knew directly that he was one of the great teachers who have passed through St. John's. This is why it is entirely fitting that the College remember him here at length and, as it were, officially. Those of us who worked with him or for him building boats or tables, or who learned from him to sail or model clay or take an engine apart learned other and far more important things as well-though we learned these things too. It is not easy to say what those more important lessons were. We greatly admired him for his strength and honesty and courage, and his workmanlike love of beautiful things. His example and his teaching made us understand how strength and firmness can go with kindness and gentleness. And we tried hard to deserve his respect. These are signs of the great teacher Franz Plunder was. William A. Darkey, a graduate of St. John's in the class of 1942, was dean of the College in Santa Fe from 1968 to 1973. Now a tutor on the western campus, Mr. Darkey has been on sabbatical leave this year. 17 �The College Plastering Day by Ray & Abigail Williamson "Sunday is plastering day. We start at 7:00 a.m. If yon want to gain valuable experience in this critical phase of ferro-cement boat building, your pay for assisting will be $10.00 for the morning." Kent Guida Section of hull showing me~h and cement covering. Right after graduation in 1971, Kent Guida (B. A. 1971) and Jake Bauer, husband of Martha Bauer (B. A. 1973) formed a partnership to build ferro-cement boats. The first two years were typical of a fledgling craft businesslong hours of hard work, frustration, set-backs and snaillike but steady progress. As they begin their fourth year, they each still put in backbreaking twelve-hour days, but they have the satisfaction of being the oldest ferro-cement boat building business in the United States. They have demonstrated to the boating community that they can build boats of high durability, beauty and quality, and their company, Ferro-Boat Builders, Inc. of Edgewater, Maryland, now has a comfortable backlog of orders and a bright future. In the three years they have been in business, they have built 13 sailboats which range from 10 to 55 feet in length. Their most popular design so far is the 20 foot FLICKA, designed by Bruce Bingham for cruising. Gail rigged, this small cutter boasts 6'1" headroom, berths for four, and a complete galley. They are now beginning work on their most ambitious project to date, a 94 foot Sambuk Dhow designed by Tom Colvin. We had the pleasure of being on hand in October, 1971 to record the cement plastering of their first hull. This article is an account of that first plastering day. Their construction techniques have changed radically since then, so much so that it now takes a third of the time to plaster a much stronger hull, but the excitement of seeing a smooth hull emerge in a short time from a framework of reinforcing rod and wire is still a major part of the fun on plastering day." 11 18 We were only a few minutes late as we parked in the clearing, but already the sound of an unmuflled gasoline engine broke the early morning calm. Walking rapidly down the pine and holly shaded dirt road to Jake and Martha Bauer's back yard, we wondered what crucial steps we might have missed. As we approached we could see the ready-to-be-plastered hull on one side of the yard. It lay keel up, beneath the trees, looking like a great grounded whale. On the other side of the yard the cement mixing operation was being arranged. Only a few workers were on hand. -We found Jake Bauer and Kent Guida, partners in this new ferro-cement boat building venture, and exchanged information over the unmitigated racket of the cement mixer. Declining the $10.00 fee, we explained our self-appointed mission as photographer-documentarians. "Fine." No, we hadn't missed anything; many more people were /expected; the plasterers were going to be late; there was time to poke around. Of first interest, of course, was the hull-some 39 feet of shapely wire mesh. Ferro-cement boat building is a highly individual art. No two builders will adopt the same methods to cope with the risks and problems which the material presents. Jake and Kent had chosen to mold and support the steel and cement hull on a temporary wooden framework. The framework was composed of several sturdy frames, braced across the beam and secured to two "strongbacks," 3" x 12" beams, running the length of the hull. To the outside of the "station frames" were nailed 1" x 3" cedar planks running bow to stern with a one inch gap between them. The entire wooden frame was covered with builder's plastic stapled to the planking. This would insure a smooth interior surface as well as facilitate removal of the framework when the hull was completed. The foundation of the hull itself began with three layers of Y2" welded wire mesh which were stapled to the planking. Next, l-4" steel reinforcing rods were bent to shape and stapled down. Finally, 3 more layers of mesh were tied to the rods and a little judicious pounding was administered here and there to fair out the smooth, sleek lines. By this time about 800 man hours had gone into �July, 1974 the seating of the hull. And now she stood ready for plastering, a one day make-or-break effort. The weather was perfect for plastering. The sky was overcast, the air was moist and the temperature was in the 60's. (Had it been hotter, or colder, or dryer or sunny, the mortar might have set up too quickly, too soon after application. This would have resulted in uneven curing in the initial stages, causing a weaker "sectioned" effect instead of the "solid-unit" construction desired.) If the men and machines were as favorably disposed as the weather today, by nightfall we should have produced an extraordinarily strong hull, the beginnings of a graceful Tahiti ketch. By 8:30 a.m. all of the plasterers had arrived and the first batch of cement was being tested for consistency. Without a doubt, this step is the most critical because the quality of the mix is basic to every ensuing operation. Every ingredient must be carefully weighed to insure the proper balance. First the exact amount of water is poured into the mixer; too much and the mortar would flow, too little and it would not penetrate the mesh thoroughly. Then come the additives: chromic oxide to reduce gal· vanic action, pozzolan (fly ash) to increase the percentage of fine aggregates in the mix and aid workability, and last, pozzolith, a black oily substance, to reduce the amount of water needed. Finally, a fine grade of sand and Portland cement are added and the mixer is run for the proper length of time. The first batch of mortar being of the right consistency, the plasterers began on the gunwales and worked upward toward the keel. They applied the cement by constant troweling, while men inside the hull pushed electric vibrators against the framework. The vibrations help the cement to penetrate the six layers of wire mesh and force air pockets to surface and break. The men inside the hull are able to watch the mortar fill the spaces between the rods and mesh through the one inch gaps between the cedar planking. If they see an area that needs more cement, they push stiff wires through the mesh, thereby signaling the exact spot to the plasterers above. Except for the plasterers, most of the friends and hired help were new to ferro-cement techniques, so it took awhile for them to master the necessary skills. After about an hour, however, the entire crew had developed a working rhythm which was both beautiful to watch and highly efficient. The cement was kept in constant flow from mixer to wheelbarrow, from wheelbarrow to hod carrier, from hod carrier to trowel, from trowel to hull and then down into and through countless holes and crannies of the wire mesh. As the rhythm continued, there was a slight tendency for the tempo to increase among the transporting crew, but Kent and Jake saw to it that the pace remained leisurely enough not to rush the coordination of the plasterers and vibrator-observers. The cement wouldn't set for several hours, there was no need to hurry. By 10:00 a.m. the plasterers had finished one side of Batch mixers and plasterers at work on 39-foot hull. the keel and had started down that side of the hull. At about 10:30 a.m., the rhythm began to disintegrate rapidly, as when you drop a crumb into a line of marching ants. People stopped working and began to talk. A bad batch-too much water. They dumped out the bad mor. tar, scraped, washed and dried the mixer. Jake's wife, Martha, brought coffee around. A new batch was mixed, tested and accepted. Back to work. Twenty minutes gone, followed by ten more slow ones before the rhythm was re-established. During the delay and conversation on the bad batch we met many of the participants-a very diverse group of men and women. Many were building their own boats, or planned to, and were here for the experience. Others were friends who had watched the boat come up from the beginning and were here to help on the great day. Mr. Bert Thoms, an Annapolis Tutor who has quite a bit of boat building experience, was running the cement mixer. (He confessed that they had probably not emptied out all the wash-out water between batches-hence the excess.) Wives and girlfriends ran errands and sifted sand. Others of us stood back out of the way, gossiping, kibbitzing, taking pictures and lending other invaluable assistance. There seemed to be as many building techniques as there were people. One man, a naval architect, was building a pipe frame ferro-cement boat in his backyard. He had a stack of color snapshots which he exhibited, newfather fashion. A neighbor dropped in and stayed to lend a hand. He was building a "foam sandwich" fiberglass boat in his back yard and was highly skeptical of this cement operation. Bits and pieces of advice and commiseration floated among the tales of frustration and success. One could have written a minor handbook of "do's and don't's" if he had listened carefully enough. The day progressed. Lunch was hardly noticeable as work continued smoothly down to the first gunwale. There were a few changes made in the transportation route and the plasterers began on the second side of the keel. 19 �The College Having watched the outside process for some time (we marveled particularly at the skill of the plasterers) we ventured into the cramped space beneath the hull. A different world! Outside there was order and sense, a visible purpose and sequence. Inside was cacophony and chaos! The 39' x ll' x 10' space was crisscrossed by various beams and support members and was festooned with electric cords. The pounding of the vibrators echoed around the ever enclosing hull making communication impossible except by sign language. The six men inside related more to the unseen plasterers above than to their fellow inmates. Each man concentrated intently on his small portion of the hull. This mood of isolation stood in sharp contrast to the comraderie of the outside crew. Flicka, a 20-foot gaff-rigged cutter, under sail. All this gave the interior operation a strange, disconnected appearance. While we watched and photographed the dim interior, the plasterers and their interior co-workers worked down the second side of the hull. Gradually the natural daylight seeping through the gaps decreased and was replaced with the warm glow of incandescent lamps. By the time we re-emerged from beneath the hull most of the initial plastering was complete. It was now 2:00p.m. The task that remained was to smooth and finish the exterior surface-a time-consuming job for which experienced plasterers are necessary. The better the finish coat, the easier the last stages of fairing out the. hull. All the 20 wire mesh must be covered to prevent rust and any low spots must be filled in. The unskilled laborers now had time to relax and join the rest of us who came to watch. A sense of real satisfaction filled us all. From a little distance the hull looked finished. Only Jake, Martha and Kent, who had gone through this process before, working for other boat builders, knew fully how many more hours of labor would be required that day before they could claim a rest. It was now the job of the plasterers to apply a "skim coat" over the initial coat. This final layer of mortar is that which gives the boat its smooth, finished surface. The job for which they had been hired now finished, and the big excitement over, most of the workers began to drift away. The cement mixer would be quiet for a long period while the skim coat was applied. We too had to leave for a few hours. While we were gone the surface would be floated-a process of rubbing the skim coat with a piece of wood to bring the rough particles of sand to the surface and allow the entrapped excess water to leach out. After the mortar was sufficiently hard, it would be troweled and smoothed to produce a hard finish. When we returned shortly before dark, the plasterers were just getting into their cars to leave. Kent, Jake, Martha and several others were still working, spreading a large plastic tarpaulin over the hull. We helped them pull it tight and set up the steam generators under the hull. The "steam bath" would hasten the curing of the mortar and ensure a positive control over the temperature during the initial curing process. A fero-cement hull does not reach full strength for many months, but the initial cure is very important in reaching the ultimate strength such material is capable of. While they got the steam generators running, Kent Guida explained that they would raise the temperature of the hull by 30° or 40°F per hour and finally hold it at about 130°F for twelve hours. Then the steam generators would be cut off and the hull would be allowed to cool slowly to the temperature of the surrounding air. At that point the hull would have reached 95% of its maximum strength. For this particular hull, that would be between 12,000 and 13,000 lbs. per square inch. When this last step was completed, Jake and Kent would be able to really relax. But for now, a full and satisfying day was about over. Although there was a long way to go before this hull could be completely outfitted and launched, they had successfully passed the test of this most important day. When we finally left, several hours after sunset, they were discussing their next contract for a 34 foot Colvin designed cruising ketch. Abigail Wi11iamson is studying for the M.S. degree in Social Work at the University of Maryland's School of Social Work and Community Planning. Her husband, a tutor and assistant dean in Annapolis, joined the St. John's faculty in 1969. �July, 1974 COMMENCEMENTS SANTA FE COMMENCEMENT David Ginsburg, Washington, D. C., attorney and chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors, addressed the seventh commencement on St. John's southwestern campus on Sunday, May 19. Twenty-seven seniors received the B.A. degree during the commencement ceremomes. Magna Cum Laude: James Boyd Hamilton, Alejandro Medina, Steven Dahl Thomas. Cum Laude: Roberta Anne Marie Faulhaber, David Fayon Gross, Thomas Brownlie Jelliffe, Elliot Marseille, Christina Lee Pierce. Rite: Sally Robinson Bell, Virginia Ann Boyle, Janet Ruth Braziel, Lynne Canchester, Brian Walker Dineen, Larry Roscoe Dutton, Mary Margaret Geoghegan, Elizabeth Lateiner Goldwin, Catherine Anne Gordon, Deborah Lynn Hathaway, Jon Hoffman Runner, Eleanor Adraine King, David Beveridge Maclaine, Paul Andrew McEncroe, Alex Sten Poulsen, Mary Jane Shoemaker, Stephen Arnold Slusher, Rachel Lynn Trueblood, Celia Margaret Yerger. AWARDS AND PRIZES During the Santa Fe Commencement exercises, the following prizes and other awards were presented: Silver Medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors-David Fayon Gross. Thomas J. Watson Foundation Fellowship-David Fayon Gross. The Duane L. Peterson Scholarship-Boyd Cooke Pratt. The Bromwell Ault Memorial Scholarships-Class of 1975: Mark Paul Habrel, Rani Irene Kalita, Boyd Cooke Pratt, Richard Martin Skaug, Jonathan Morgan Teague, William Ernest Unbehaun, Denis Yaro. Class of 1976: Christian Burks, Susan Lanier Cavahan, Gregory John Gillette, Michael Alan Gross, Glenda Kay Holladay, Bridgett Houston. The St. John's College Community Scholarships-Class of 1975: Giselle Susanne Minoli and David Palmer Birnbaum. Class of 1976: Inger Birgitte Aarnas, John Francis Martinez, Mark Laird Copper, Betsy Innes Davenport, Matthew Gale Krane, Barbara Lynn Skaug. Class of 1977: Marlene Benjamin and Arlene Margie Blackwell. · The Senator Millard E. Tydings Memorial Prize for public speakingJames Boyd Hamilton and Alejandro Medina. Best Senior Class Essay-James Boyd Hamilton. Best Junior Class EssayBoyd Cooke Pratt. Best Sophomore Class Essay-Gregory Reinhold Winter. Best Freshman Class Essay-Mary Lisa Laucks and Jonathan Paul Tyman. Best English poem-Russell Wayne Mayfield. Best English translation of a French poem-Russell Wayne Mayfield. Best musical compositiooMatthew Gale Krane. Best junior-senior mathematics paper-Thomas J. Myers. Best freshman-sophomore mathematics paper-George Michael Filz. Best essay related to the laboratory program -Christian Burks. ANNAPOLIS COMMENCEMENT At commencement exercises in Annapolis on May 26th, sixty-three seniors received the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Eight of these degrees were awarded magna cum laude, and 17 were cum laude. Magna Cum Laude: Michael Adam Blaustein, Chester Winslow Burke, Bruce Michael Dolego, Michael Crerar 21 �The College Theodore George Wolff, George Arthur Wright, Karen Elizabeth Zimmer. As of the Class of 1972, Richard Alan O'Neill; as of the Class of 1971, Thomas Nelson Day; as of the Class of 1969, Barbara Rosalie Mordes. AWARDS AND PRIZES Chester W. Burke is congratulated by President Weigle after receiving the Silver Medal in Annapolis. Jordan, Claire Zoe Kurs Kronsberg, Nelson Lund, Charles Curtis Post, Jeffrey Ivan Victoroff. Cum Laude: Deborah Ruth Bowers, Roger Chapman Burk, Janet Lee Christhilf, Jonathan Miles Diggory, Thomas Joseph Dolan, Jr., Richard Allen Ferguson, Samuel Theodore Goldberg, Barbara Elizabeth Goyette, Gerard Thomas Kapolka, Antonio Luis Marino Lopez, Philip Gary Mattera, Wilfred Mark McClay, Robert William Noble, Donne] O'Flynn, Michael Gary Parks, Deborah Jane Ross, Lee David Zlotoff. Rite: Douglas Earl Anthony, Ileana Chrysanthy Basil, Robert Michael Benton, Erica Ferne Chaney, Donna Anne Demac, Diana Echeverria, Jack Morgan Ehn, Jr., Leslie Epstein, Jay Lester Gottlieb, Geoffrey Walton Harris, Donald Fisher Harrison, Jr., Charles Edward Heal, Paul Monroe Heylman, Maria Evelina Kayanan, Steven Leslie Key, Valerie Jean Kozel, James Scott LeVan, John Larkin Lincoln, V, Virginia Evelyn McKemie, Christine McNesby, Edward Doran Myers, Virginia Newlin, Susan Eliza22 beth Pigman, Patricia Margaret Pittis, Andrew Bartlett Reed, Eric Louis Rosenblatt, Jane Shaw Sheret, Lester Stephen Silver, Paul Emery Szabo, Wesley Makoto Uemura, Eric Vatikiotis-Bateson, Susan Amanda Vowels, Silver Medal from the Board of Visitors and Governors-Chester Winslow Burke. The Duane L. Peterson scholarship of $1,250 to a JuniorMichael Gerard Dink. The Sen. Millard E. Tydings award for excellence in speaking-Robert William Noble. Best Senior essay-Antonio Luis Marino Lopez. Best Junior essayPeter T. Fox. Best Sophomore essayLeslie Baker Graves. Best Freshman essay-Sara Maria Anastaplo. Junior-Senior mathematics prizeLester Stephen Silver. Freshman-Sophomore mathematics prize-William Martin Castner. Best Greek translation -Nelson Lund. Best French translation-James Scott LeVan. Best musical comment-Richard Davenport. Scholarships of $1,000 each by the C. Markland Kelly, Jr., Memorial Foundation-Michael Gerard Dink, David Evan Clement, Vicki Louise Cass. Dr. Tiwmas B. Turner presents scroll to President Weigle. �July, 1974 Registrar Lee Rinder, President Weigle, and Board chairman David Ginsburg applaud commencement speaker Eva Brann. ALUMNI ACTIVITIES CHAPTER NEWS New York Group The high command of this group charged during the spring: Francis Mason '43, leader since the group's revival in 1968, has turned over the reins to Robert Thomas '63, while Lovejoy Reeves '67 has become vice president, Lowell Shindler '64 is the new secretary, and Steven Shore '68 is treasurer. The Group is most anxious to hear from alumni moving to or from the New York area. This very active chap· tcr of your Association plans a number of activities again this coming year, and wants to make sure everyone knows about them. Among these events will be a continuation of the popular seminar series. If you are new to town, or are planning to leave, call Lowell Shindler (office: 516/872-0011, home: 212/464-1722) or Steve Shore (home: 212/371-8067). Annapolis The Annapolis alumni-or at least 15-20 of them-have met monthly for lunch this past year. The format continues to appeal, and will be continued next year. Second Friday, September through May, 12 noon, in the Baldwin Room of Campbell Hall. Reservations are requested. AWARD OF MERIT Association President Bernard F. Gessner has issued a call for nominations of alumni to be considered for the 1974 Award of Merit. First established in 1950, the Award was initiaily given to one alumnus each year. In 1970 the Association directors authorized an increase to not more than three awards each year. The awards are made at the discretion of the directors, and need not be made every year. The award is made to an alumnus for ''distinguished and meritorious service to the United States or to his native State or to St. John's College, or for outstanding achievement within his chosen field." Confidential letters of nomination should be addressed to B. F. Gessner, cjo Alumni Office, St. John's College, Annapolis, Md. 21404, and should contain sufficient information about the nominee to permit thorough eva!23 �The College uation by the directors. Please mark the envelope AWARD. NOTICE TO MARINERS If you live in the New York City area and sailing is your (thing/ you might be interested in an idea put forth by Steven Shore: a group of alumni chartering the 59-foot schooner "Nina" (1929 Queen's Cup winner), a grand old lady of the sea. On a week night, a 6:30 to midnight sail would cost about $20 a person, with you pro· viding your own food and drink. If yon are interested, call Steve at home, (212) 371-8.067. art school in Santa Barbara, Cal. Priscilla teaches drawing and painting, and has been exhibiting her own work. 1960 Sarah (Robinson) Munson reports that her family now includes three daughters, ages five, four, and one year, and that they now live in Arlington, Va. 1961 Harvey G. Alexander, III, head of his own film production company, is the founder of the Baltimore Film Festival. 1963 Donna {Parmalee) Bryant writes that she and Harry, with Adam and Alex, are now living in Crofton, Md. Harry works at the nearby Naval Research Center. 1964 William P. Banks, assistant professor of psychology at Pomona College, was awarded a $5,000 National Institutes of Mental Health grant for the 1973-74 academic year. Bill is doing research on how people perceive warm and cold temperatures. He has been a member of the Pomona faculty since -1969, has completed a year of post-doctoral study at the Institute of Human Learning, University of California, Berkeley, and recently returned to Pomona from a sabbatical leave at Stanford University. 1965 Everett W. Smith, Jr. '37 is inducted into the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame. Left to right: John C. Donohue '35, Smith's former teammate and coach; Everett Smith; Mrs. Smith; former Navy and St. John's lacrosse coach William H. (Dinty) Moore, III. CLASS NOTES 1928 Louis L. Snyder continues to collect kudos for his scholarly and literacy efforts; the latest was announced in April, one of the Anisfield Wolf Award prizes for his book, The Dreyfus Case. Professor Snyder this spring was also awarded a grant to participate in the Fulbright Exchange Program between the United States and Germany. 1935 David King Usher retired in March from The Kelly-Springfield Tire Company after a career of over 39 years. Since 1969 he has been director of training of the Cumberland, Md., firm, a subsidiary of The Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company. 1937 Dr. Norval F. Kemp, associate director, division of medical affairs, Perth Amboy (N.J.) General Hospital, has been designated gov- 24 ernor-elect of the New Jersey region of the American College of Physicians. 1945 C. Grant Luckhardt received the Ph.D. degree in philosophy from Emory University in Atlanta last year. 1966 Robert E. Fields, Jr., who holds the Ph.D. degree from Cambridge University, is an inventor who set up his own company, BIOLAB, Ltd., manufacturing inert chromatography equipment and fluid fittings. Bob plans to move his headquarters to Metuchen, N.J., while the British company will become an associate organization. Carole (Picardo) Kelley and Loren '67 announced the birth in April of their second son, Glen Neil. On June l they moved from Italy to Rungis, France, where Loren is working for Digital Equipment France. Another literary alumnus is Robert L. CampbeJI, author of The Chasm: The Life and Death of a Great Experiment in Ghetto Education. A writer for Life magazine from 1945 to 1957, Bob has most recently been concentrating on making documentary films. His new book is about two experimental school districts in New York City, one in Harlem, the other in the Ocean Hill- Brownsville district of Brooklyn. In his introduction to the book, author James Baldwin concludes: "The man who wrote this book is very honest, very loving, and his children are lucky: he must be a beautiful cat." This past May Daniel 0. Vona attended a conference at the International School of Gravitation and Cosmology, Erice, Sicily. Dan is now a Ettore Majoranna Fellow, National Radio Astronomy Observatory, Greenbank. 1955 Priscilla Bender Shore is Currently serving as chairman of the Drawing Department and assistant dean of the Faculty at the Santa Barbara Art Institute, an independent accredited Thomas G. Keens (SF) has been awarded the degree of Doctor of Medicine and is currently assistant resident in pediatrics at Chil~ dren's Hospital of Los Angeles. 1967 1968 �July, 1974 TENTATIVE HOMECOMING SCHEDULE 1974 Friday, November 1: Evening: Saturday, November 2: 9 a.m.-4 p.m. lO a.m.-12 noon II a.m.-12 noon 12 noon 1:30p.m. 3p.m. 6-7:30 p.m. 7:30p.m. Lecture, followed by informal reception/get-together for alumni and invited guests. Registration, lobby, Francis Scott Key Memorial. Alumni Seminars (readings and rooms to be announced). Student Career Discussions, Conversation Room. (Certain alumni will be invited to assist with this program.) Luncheon in Dining Hall with students. Alumni Association Annual Meeting; election of direc· tors and officers; presentation of Awards of Merit; Conversation Room. Athletics on Back Campus; probably Alumni-Student Soccer Classic. Cocktail Party, Hilton Hotel; alumni and invited guests. Homecoming Banquet honoring President and Mrs. Richard D. Weigle-25th Anniversary. David King Usher '35 Final schedule and reservation form will be mailed later in the summer. 1972 Josepli Simonds (SF) , a former Vietnam war protestor, is now an Israeli citizen-soldier with an artillery unit on the Golan Heights. Frederick L. Wicks (SF) and Hal Papps (SF) are both students at the Zen Center in San Francisco. Rick urges that Eastern materials be considered for the St. John's curriculum. He thinks that Zen might be a vehicle for incorporating poetry into the broader philosophical and theological context of the curriculum. Rick has been accepted for a summer work scholarship at the Tassajara, the Zen center inland from Cannel. 1969 Joe P. Reynolds (SF), with wife Pam and son George, is concluding a year as the student intern minister for two small central North Carolina churches. On July 1 they were to return to Austin, Tex., for Joe's senior ye1r at Austin Presbyterian Seminary. Ycshe Tsomo (formerly Vicki Brown (SF)) is Studying to be a Buddhist nun in the Tibetan tradition, and recently returned from her second trip to Nepal and India, where she had an audience with the Dalai Lama. She works as an editor of Buddhist texts for the Institute for Advanced Studies of \Vorld Religions while learning Chinese at Columbia University. 1970 Alexandra (Dane} bor-Ner is living in Israel where her husband is a film maker for Israeli television. She graduated from the American College in Jerusalem in 1972 with a major in philosophy. Since that time she has been studying photography in Jerusalem. Her address is: Ein Karem B-59, Jerusalem, Israel; she invites any St. Johnnies visiting Israel to look her up. David Gilmore and his wife Ellen are living on Echo Lake in Mt. Desert, Me., where he is, to quote a recent card from Ellen, "happily employed as a carpenter." 1971 1973 Perry f. Braunstein is teaching French and English to German-speaking people in Switzerland. He plans to study in Germany next year, then to take the German State examinations in order to teach in F reiburg, West Germany. George F. Brown, Jr., (SF) is teaching music in the Basalt Public Schools in westem Colorado. Bruce Glaspel (SF) is now president of Worldwide Associates, Investment Counsel, at 235 Montgomery Street, San Francisco. Roger Greene, after more than a year as an editorial assistant and then assistant editor at Collier's Encyclopedia in New York, plans to begin work toward an M.F.A. degree in film at the School of the Arts of Columbia University this September. Roger reports that he knows the doings of various other Johnnies, but, to avoid a public scandal, refuses to telL Elizabeth Unger is living at Koinonia, a religious retreat north of Baltimore, teaching pottery and running the office. She plans to attend Northeastern Law School in Boston in the fall. In Memoriam 1909-Edward F. Carroll, Berkeley Springs, W. Va., July 24, 1973. 1917-Paul M. Chaney, Annapolis, Md., April 12, 1974. 1922-R. Ashford Fine1l, Richmond, Va., April 2, 1974. 1927-Jamcs R. Downs, South Londonderry, Vt., March 16, 1974. 1928-Dr. William H. Eisenbrandt, New York City, January 14, 1974. 1934-C. LeVerne Talmadge, 1969. 1937-E. Paul Mason, Jr., Baltimore, Md., May 14, 1974. 1937-Charles Schiff, Charleston, S.C., March 19, 1974. 1939-Ashley G. Ogden, Jr., Baltimore, Md., May 17, 1974. 1949-Andrew C. Dewing, Wellesley, Mass., March 23, 1974. �The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 24 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, July 1974 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Ham, Michael W. Newland, Paul D. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Description An account of the resource Volume XXVI, Number 2 of The College. Published in July 1974. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_26_No_2_1974 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/172fe4869aa578e8401ff04819da39c1.pdf 767f8cd73989090045d4a232811a3695 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico October 1974 TWENTY-FIFTH ANNUAL REPORT fOF THE PRESIDENT �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVI October, 1974 Iumbcr 3 Managing Editor's Note: Editor: Bc.:ate Ruhm von Oppe n J\lanaging J•:ditor: Tho mas Parran, Jr. F.di to ri;il Advisory Bo~1 rcl: Willi:lln B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, F.. i\ lalcolm W ya tt, Robe rt S. Zclcnk:J. l11is issue consists alm o~t e ntirely of the 11\'c nty.fifth annu:1l Report of the Pre~ident to the Boa1d of Visitors and Co\'e rnors. Again, as was clone at the time of the twentie th R eport, we have appended a table reflecting the hig hl igh ts of the q uarte r·century of Mr. Weigle's presidency. Two srn~Jll items of particula r interest to alumni have also been incl uded. At th e bottom nf t his p;~ge i~ the " I•• l\'!cmoriam" usually found o n the inside back cover; we did not want to wa it until the January issue to publish this 11(..'C rology. The othe r item is the no tice which appea rs o n th e back cove r, and we urge all alumni to read it C:~ rcfu ll y. T. P.Jr. T TI E COLL EGE is puhli~hed by the Office of College Rclatiom , St. Jo hn's College, A nnapolis, [aryland 21 404, Richard D. W eigle, Presiden t. 'Villiam B. Dun ha m , D irector of C ollege R elations. IN 111E OCTOBER I SSUI~: Report of the President Financial State ments fo r 1973-197-f Published four time~ a year. in January, April, Jn ly, and O ctober. Second class post~ge paid at i\nnapu l i~, l\'larylan cl ami at ot he r m ailiug plac.:es. 11 Twenty·five Years in R etrospect 14 -- ------ In Memoriam 1904-John 7>.1 . J. lloclgcs, C unbridgc, l'd ,tss.. July 26, 1974. 1919-Dr. Robert A. Bier, Sit•er Spring, l\ ld. , .\ugusl 2. 1974. 19 19- Col. Jo~cph . M~rx, Phoenix, Ariz., Juuc 28, 1974. 19 19- \Villi.1m II. L . SL 1dc, Baltimore, \ld., July 18, 1974. 1919- Ccorgc F. W oh lgemuth, & II i· mOte, \ld., AuJtu~t 28. t 974 . 1 92 1 -l'~uklin C . llall. Pompano Beach, ~h. Julv I r;, 197-1. 1923- llugh T . Br0\\11, RocJ.,.illc, :\lei.. ,\pnl, 19 H. 19!3- Jcffer«.>n C . Coote.1, Rc.1ding. Pa., January H, 197-1. 1927- lnine C. Cling;~n. TowiDn, \ 1d., Ocrember 3. 197 3. 1927-John R. Kern. Catono;villc, Md , .\ ugust, 1974. 19 31-Cahin llarrington . Jr., Cam· bridge. l\ld., September 9, 1974 . 19 33-llcmy J. Tarantino, t\nnapoli~. 1\ld., Septo f1ber I, 1974. 1937-J. Campbell Sim pson. G len Bur· nie, 1\ld .. June, 1974. 19 37-Col. William B. Solno. T owson. :O.Id., August Z), 1974. 1917-Judgc Ricloard L. Waters. Jr., C:mou C oty, Nev., December 10, 1973. 1931! l'ctcr 1'. llomer, Sparks, Md., Juuc 7. 1974. 19-10-Joluo II. Bro\\11, Jr., San J uan, P.R., 19H 194!l-Gcorgc II. Daffcr. Annapolis, \ld ., June 12, 197... 1 194S-- \lao S. 1\hrcm ont, S. n Francisco, Col., September I , 1974. 1955-RiciLml \\'. T aylor, Sluroo HilL Pa. Fcbrwry 14. 1974 . Fauolh· ·Ah in N. l\ lain. Kensington, C11., JUllC 20, 19i4. �Report of the President 1973-1974 On September 17, 1949 this Board of Visitors and did me th e honor of electing me President of St. John's College. lt seems scarcely credible that two ;md a half decades have passed with their challenges, their fmstrations, their successes, and their rewards. At the outset of th is annual report I shou ld li ke t·o express tJ1e immense sense of gratitude that l\1frs. W eigle and I feel for th e honors that have been accorded us by the members of both the Faculty and the Board of Visitors and Governors over the past several months. This outpouring of affection and appreciation has touched us deeply and has made us feel even closer to the college community, both in Annapolis and in Santa Fe. In this report I shall outline first the de,·elopmcnts of the past year. ' l11en I propose to summarize some of the major changes that have taken place at St. John's College since 1949. A chart contaimng the highlights of the past twenty-five rea rs follows this report, as do the finan cial statements for the fiscal rear. Through the cha rt one ma~· follow changes in enrollment, facu lty strength, and budgets, as well as major developments at the College, changes in the curriculum, actions affecting tutors and students, and the building of the College's resources. Governor~ Instruction From the academic perspc:ctivc, both campuses completed excellent years under their new Dea ns, Curtis A. Wi lson in Annapo lis, and Robert A. Neidorf in San ta Fe. Each Dean add ressed himself to his 11cw responsibilities with vigor, imagination, and a genuine concern for both the student and the tutor. By mutual agreement, no statement of educational policy and program was prepared for submission to the Boa rd, since all the energies of both Deans were devoted to familiarizing themselves with their current academic tasks and responsibilities. During th e yea r, the Annapolis campus was visited by observers from th e l\1 iddle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools, since ten years had elapsed since the rcaffim1ation of accreditation in 1964. St. John's College was also invited to offer a case study during the time of this visit, that is a presentation of the College and its program for close study by a small group of invited administrators and faculty members from other institutions. F'or that purpose a group of a dozen educators spent four days on campus from N ovember II t·hrough .14, under the directorship of Reamer Kline, President of Bard College. I am happy to report that the Commission on H igher Education of the Association voted to reaffirm the College's accred itation in June for a further ten-year period. T he most interesting curricular development was a comprehensive study of the laboratory program by Howard Fisher, an Annapolis tutor. lie proposed that an appropriate laboratory schema for St. John's College should be based upon three resolutions. First, topics pursued in the laboratory ought to appear to be generated by or founded upon questions arising in the ~eminar even t hough tbe chronological order of reading is viola ted and C\·en though scientific disciplines may carry questions beyond or contrary to seminar readings. Second, Mr. Fisher defines experim entation as more than the testing of a law or a hrpothesis. lie believes that there ought to be in the laboratory "a continued, lively and ingenious effort directed toward the collection, conservation, and display of natural workings and appearances." He calls this effort "experimentation" and means by it "the bringing about of auspicious and suggestive occasions for careful observation." Finally, he states that there ;uc three distinctly "modern" aspects of the laboratory: (a) its association with a mathema tical an d symbolic understanding of nature; (b ) the culti vation of certainty (or its surrogate, generality) throug h the logic of hypothesis, cvidcucc, theory, ami law; and (c) the association of the labomtory scicuces with surpassing degrees of power in t he realm of artifice. Mr. Fisher asserts t l1at the College's labomtory program should promote t he more ncmly naive practices of discovering and interpreting the Natural, and such of the Artificial as imitates and comments upon the Natural. These skills arc possessed br everyone and ought to be culti vated and respected as that shared hasis upon which common study can be begun. lie claims that th e mathematical or algebraic treatment of nature has dominated the development of the laboratory program with such notable exceptions as soapstone-gri nding in th e freshman rear, dissection of animals in the sophomore yea r, and magnetic field mapping and the study of F'amday's writings in the senior year. The Instruction Committee will be considering Mr. F isher's report in the yea r ahead. Another continuing problem on the Annapolis c-dmpus is that of rotc or drill work, according to Mr. \Vi lson. In �The College his conversations with a number of seniors, he leamed tha t students felt classes suffered because the basic elements of Creek, f:Orench, algebra, and the calculus had not been sufficientl y ma~tered. Students felt that tutors should be more rigorous and demanding on the elementary level. ' l11e Dean will be asking the Instruction Committee and the Faculty to consider a number of new policies and procedure_s that co~ld lead to increased mastery of elementary operuhons. Tli1s problem will be discussed during the coming yea r. Dea1 Neidorf reports a widespread sense of improve:1 ment m the area of stude nt writing on the San ta Fe campus. This has been accomplished over recen t years bv a series of palliative changes. Every student has been 'required to submit a first semester seminar essay. Language t~1tors ha~e been encouraged to assign more writing excrCJ _ses. Th1s has been made possible by deliberately droppmg the custom of an individual student conference following each and every such exercise. The don rag report form now requires a statement from the don rag committee as to whether a student has a general writing problem. ~or the most part, the Faculty has been energetic in acceptmg the Dean's stipulation that "every tu tor is an English tutor." Another change for the better at Santa Fe is the aband0~1ment of the traditional notion that a don rag, or evaluation of the student's work, must come at the end of each semester. The lnstntction Committee felt that the value of the don rag wou ld be enhanced if the student were to rel:l1m i111mediatcly to the classes in which his performance had been evaluated. I Jcncc, freshmen and juniors on the Santa Fe campus have don rags in the middle of the fi rst semester and at the end of the second sopho mores in the middle of the first semester and in th~ midd le of the second, while seniors have a single don rag nt t he end of the first semester. One specific be nefit of the new sched ule is to reduce nervous tension over the enabling procedure for sophomores, whic h comes at the end of that year. Something of a new regular tradition on the southwestern campus is the all-collcgc seminar. Twice during the course of the academ ic year, Fridav night lectures are omitted. In their place the entire ~liege is divided into seminars _without regard to the usual class groupings. Texts used dunng the past year \verc l bscn·s Ghosts and Lao Tzu's Tao Tch Chiug. The Dean reports that .it is hard to over-emphasize the unifying effect that these seminars ha,·e had on the college community. Task Force on tlJC Liberal Arts William Darkey, Tutor and former Dean on the Santa 2 Fe campus, has formulated the initial guidelines for the Task Force on the Liberal Arts, which he will direct over the next two years. This significant project, which is being funded in part by the ationa l Endowment for the Huma nities, wi ll involve two oth er senior tutors, David Jones and T homas S1mpson, as well as a number of tutors from th e Annapolis ca mpus and several outside consultants. During the past year of preparation, Mr. Darkcy has tra veled to both coasts and has consulted with such individuals as Robert M. Hutchins and Stri ngfellow Barr. T he Faculty T he development gra nt from the 1 ntional Endowment for. the Humanities ena bled the Santa Fe ca mpus to ass1 to most new tutors onl y two teaching stations and gn to relieve three senior tutors of one-third of thei r teaching responsibilities so that the)' could work with the new tutors and orient them more effectively in the St. John's program. Thi~ has been exceedingly important for a campus with a relativcl) )Olmg and inexperienced faculty. Of t~c 39 facult) membe~ acti,·cly teaching this past academiC year, SIX were new tutors and nine were tutors in their second year with the College. To at tain greater future faculty stability, the Dean and the Instruction Committee at Santa Fe have instituted a more careful procedure for seeking and evaluating candidates for initial appointment. A three.mcmber Faculty Recruitment Committee is responsible for correspondence with prospective tutors and for the selection of those individuals to be invited for int·~~iews. As a matter of principle, no one may be invited to )0111 the Faculty without a two-day visit while the College is in session. Such a visit includes auditing of several classes, informal conversations with students and tutors, a luncheon mee ting with the Faculty Recrui tment Committee, a meeting with the entire Instruction Comm ittee, and fina lly n n~ ccting with the Dean. During the year, 28 applica nts v1S1ted the College; six were invited to accep t tutorships; all of these accepted. The greater experience of the Anna polis Faculty is reflected in the fact that two-thirds of its members now hold tenure appoin tm ents as con tra sted \vith two-fifths on the Santa Fe campus. Given the cl1aractcr of the St. John's program and the fact that experienced tutors are usuall~· among the most successful teachers, it does not seem a~ unhealth} situation that a high proportion of tutors hold tenure appointments. On the other hand, each new tenure decision must be made with the greatest care and circumspection. This )ear only one tutor, Nicholas :\Iaistrcllis of the ea~tem campus, received a tenure appointment to begin July I, 1975. The Santa Fe campus has adopted new procednres in �October, 1974 the evaluation of faculty members pursuant to reappointment recommendations. In the case of candidates for tenure, the Senior Class was invited to elect three of its members who had not had the candidate as a tutor. After discussion of procedures with the lnstmction Committee, the three interviewed all other members of the class and reported back to th e Instruction Commiltee. Particularly impressive was the seniors' own articulation of the fact that it was not their business to give "thumbs-up or thumbsdown" opinions but only to advance considerations that were not likely to be systematicall y known to members of the Instruction Committee. T his procedu re was supplemented by a written invitati on to every senior to seek out any member of the Instruction Committee to discuss the candidate in question. At the same time, in accordance with a recommendation of the Faculty as a whole, the Instruction C ommittee consulted on an individual-interview basis with every tutor. \ Vith rega rd to ca ndidates for non-tenure reappointments, the Instruction Committee has informall y taken to a wider series of interviews with other faculty members than had been the case previously. For the coming academic year, four 11ew tutors have been appointed on the Annapolis campus : Saul Ben jamin, who has an A.B. degree from Kenyon College and a B.A. honor degree from Brasenose College, Oxford; David Bolotin, who holds the A.B. degree in Classics from Cornell University and in Government from the Unh·ersity of Chicago, and who is now a candidate for the Ph.D. degree at 'ew York University; Ala n H. D orfman, a St . John's graduate in the Class of 1963, who holds his Ma~ter's degree from the Johns Hopkins University in mathematics; and Deborah Schwartz, a 1968 Annapolis graduate with M.A. degrees from the Johns Hopkins University in psycholinguistics and from Georgetown Un iversi ty in French literature. Louis . Kurs, Hugh P . McGrath and Robert L. Spaeth all return to th e Faculty h om sahbalical leave, as docs David H . Stephenson. F or the coming yea r Geoffrey Comber, George D oskow, Howard J. Fisher, and Benjamin C. Milner, Jr. will be on sabbatical leave while Robert Goldwin, T homas 1\lcDonald and Ocborah Tramor ha,•c been gran ted Jea,·e-of-absence. · At Sauta F e, two new appointments were made at the start of the second semester: Ida Ooraiswamy, who holds au M.A. from Mad ras University au<l :111 M.S. from the University of Wisconsin, and who taught at Annapolis from 1964 to 1966; and Gerald L. M yers, who has a Ph.D. from th e University of Colorado Medical Center and who taught at Shimer College. For the nex t yea r, five new tutors and two teaching interns have been appointed: Edward C. Clark, who holds the B.S. degree in Geology from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the Ph.D. degree in ear Eastern history from Princeton and who has served as both an area geophysicisl in 'vVyoming and Montana and as an assistant professor of llistory at the University of Texas in E l Paso; Georgia S. Knight with a B.S. degree in philosophy and an I .A. in F.nglish from th e University of Utah; Philip B. Long, a graduate of Bob Jones University, who received his doctoral degree cum l:Hide at Net herlands Univers ity; Kent T aylo r, with a Yale B./\. and a n M.A. in English from the University of Georgia, who has been teaching assista nt. at the U niversi ty of California iu Santa Cruz, where he is a candidate for the Ph.O . degree; and David L. T ownsenc1, a gradua te of Loyola College in Baltimore, who received his P h.D. in Literature and American Studies at I larv:ud University. The two teaching interns arc: 1ark L. Haynes, a 1971 graduate of the Santa Fe campus, now studyi ng for a Ph.D. in Classics and Philosoph}' :ll the University of T exas; and GalC11 Brenin gstall, a 1973 gmduatc of the Santa Fe campus, who hopes to en ter medic;ll school in 1975. T he Faculty will be strengthened by t he return from sabbatieallc-Jve of vVilliam /\. Darkey and Ruger S. Peterson, and by the return from leave of Richard B . Stark. llowever, for the coming academic year, Samuel Brown, Elliott Skinner, and Ralph Swcntzcll will be on sabbatical leave and Michael Ossorgin, Cha rles C. Bell, and Dean R. I lagga rd will be on other leave. Alvin r. M ain It is my sad duty to report the deat h of Alvin 1 . l'vlain, who joined the Facnlty in 1960 after teaching at th e University of Californ ia in Santa Barbara. \ Vhile on leave-ofabsence, he was stricken with cancer and died in Berkeley, c~ lifornia, Oil June 20 th. He was a respected te lcher. He contributed most helpfully to our common lea rning in revising the sophomore mathematics and junior laboratory manuals. The sympathy of the C ollege community goes out to his widow, the former 1\ lary Loui~c Biggar, of the Class of J964, now a member of the faculty at the University of California in Berkelev. Leo Strauss 1l1e College also mourns the death of Leo Stmuss on ·October 18, 1973. Ir. Strauss was the first Scott Buch<m~n Distinguished Scl10lar-in-Residence. Over the years of his teaching ~t the University of Chicago, the New SchooL t he C laremont Colleges, and St. John's, he tr.1incd and inspired a large group of scholars and sh1dcnts to ca rry on investiga tions into the foundations of modem po1iticallife �T he College and thought. One of his students writes : "I-I is relation to St. John's College was very close for many years. T his was a place, he though t, where what he was trying to do mig ht be understood and appreciated, where men migh t be found who arc capable and ha rdy enough to contin ue and keep al ive t he tradition begun by Socrates." Students Contrary to national trends, enrollment at St. John's College appears to be holding steady. F urthermore, there is some evideuce that the rate of loss or attrition over the four undergraduate years is declining. The best indication of th is has been the need to red uce the size of the uew entering freshmen class on each campus, to 105 in A1111apolis and 97 in Santa Fe. T he following chart shows fa ll and spring enrollments on the respective campuses: rv!en Annapolis Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors Totals Santa Fe Preshmcn January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors Totals Women Sept. May Sept. May -- 54 49 14 46 49 47 54 51 47 - 206 205 Aug. 46 May 51 56 33 23 49 8 53 32 22 163 164 Aug. 43 46 13 59 17 16 138 51 18 15 140 40 15 17 - ll8 May - - Total Sept. J.\II;Jy -- -- 105 98 22 llO 84 70 81 69 369 369 99 -- - Aug. 44 92 9 33 99 l3 32 15 ll4 33 256 May -- 87 22 84 31 30 254 The prospects for all enrollment are good, 368 students in Annapolis and 275 in Santa foe. Twenty-seven seniors were awarded B.A. degrees a t Santa Fe on May 19, 1973, t hree of them magna cum laude aud five of them cum laude. One week later, 63 seniors were awarded their bachelor's degree at Annapolis, eight of them magna cum laude and 17 of them cum laude. The Board's silver medals for the highc.'>'t academic standing were won by David F. Gross of Saratoga, California, on the western campus and bv C hester Winslow Burke, of Alexandria, V irginia, on the eastern campus. David Gross also received a Thomas J. vVa tson Foundation Fcllowsl1ip, as did Donnell O'Flynn, of District llcights. Marvla nd, and T heodore 'Volff, of Lexi ngton, Massachusetts, ~~~ the 1 nnapolis c;nnpns. Donna Dcmac, of cw York C ity, was \ awarded one of the fifteen Henry Lucc Fellowships in this fi rst year of national competi tion. Duane L. Peterson Scholarships, recognizing a junior on each campus for academic achievement, constructive me mbership in the college commu n ity, and commitment to postgraduate study, wen t to M ichael G. Dink of CinciJl nati, Ohio, in the East and to Boyd Cooke Pratt, of Honolulu, Hawaii, in t he West. Several ma tter~ have troubled students on b oth campuses for some time and will req uire at tention next year. Since the inception of the present program, students have been assigned to classes in such a way that approximately twenty students constitut ing a seminar were together for most of their classes for the en tire year. It was thought good to arrange students in these large but stable "families." In actual practice, studen ts have occasionally become tired of one another. For the coming year, t he An napolis campus will in troduce a higher degree of mixing assignments to tuto rials and laboratory sections. Furthermore, an effort will be made on both campuses to assure that the same tutors do no t teac h the same students two years in succession. A second unhappiness has to do with grading. [t is the policy of the College to encourage students to work for understanding and not for grades. At t imes, students are . surprised by t heir t r• mscripts when they are applyi·ng to graduate schools. The St. John's curriculum is admi ttedly a difficul t one with no option to drop courses and substitute easier ones. t\ query was ra ised as to whether grading at St. Joh n's College was tougher tl1an that at comparable institutions, th us making it more d ifficult for St. John's graduates seeking admission to graduate school. During t he yea r the Registrar co nducted a study of more than a dozen other colleges. The results showed that median grade point ;JVerages at the ot her comparable liberal arts colleges dur ing the years 1970-72 were on a par with those at St. John's. It was also found that at all t he ins titutions from which figures were obtained, t he median grade poin t average was rising during this period. T he College plans no change in its present policy of discouraging students from looking at their grades. T utors, however, will be asked to be as objective and straight-forward as they can be in their oral eval uation of the student's work in the don rag. A th ird ma tter has to do with th e difficul ty experienced by St. Joh n's graduates in making the transition to graduate work in a un iversity or to a career in the marketplace. Medical schools < law schools have presenl·ed a special llld problem simp!)' because of thei r immense popularit)' with all students at this particuhn ti me. T he College hopes to iden tify a dozen institutions where St. fohn's students have gone and where the opportunity for new admissions �October, seems most hopeful. It is planned to ha,·e a Tutor or an Associate from the Faculty visit these universities and explain in greater detail the St. John's program. At the same time, upon the urgent recommendation of the Assistant Deans, a full-time Director of Placemen t and Student Counselor has been appointed on the Annapolis ca mpus for the coming year in the pcrson 'of M iss Brenda Robertson. On the Santa fo'c campus, Mrs. Sue Boyter, D irector of Financial Aid, is adding placement to her other responsi· bilities. It is expected that these new appointments will have a salu tary eiTect on the problems faci ng St. John's graduates. Admissions In view of the nationall y declini ng reservoir of collegebound students, it is a strikiug occurrence that t he freshman class of 1978 was fiiicd 011 both campuses by June and waiting lists were set up. Part of the reason for this is attributable to the sma ller size of the class necessitated by decreased attritiou, both in Annapolis and in Santa Fe. Great credit, however, must be given to the two Directors of Admission, lichael Ham in the East and Gerald Zollars in the '~est. Both have addressed themselves to their task with intelligence and enthusiasm. Both have sought to make sure that prospective students clearly understood the St. John's program and t hat the College was right for them. T his will contribute to better morale throughout tl1e rear and will make for a better staying power in the student body. Comparative figures for 1972-73 and 1973-74 follow: Annapolis 1972-73 1973-74 Applications Approved Rejected W ithdrawn Deposits Received Enrolled Catalogues Mailed V isitors Santa Fe 1972-73 1973-74 - -- -- - 167 169 136 145 23 17 55 55 89 97 90 97 4,443 4,904 151 149 205 170 24 65 lOS 105 2,348 232 207 178 16 71 107 3,731 245 During the year, the firm of Barton and Gillet was engaged to study procedures in both admissions offices and to recommend any desirable changes for the future. M rs. Mary Ross Flowers, formerly in charge of admissions at Goucher College, also advised with 1\fr. Ham. As a result, new admissions materials arc being developed on both campuses. This new literature will seck to acquaint the prospective student more gradually with the unusual St. John's Program. 1974 l11e admissions effort must be far more than the recruiting of candidates and the processing of applications. It must be an orientation program as well, both for tl1e potential student and for his parents. It must provide an accurate pic hue of St. John's College and its curricul um, so that expectations about the education offered here are both appropria te and realistic. 111e parents' orientation now undertaken on registra tion day on bo th campuses has proven extremely helpful in this regard. Questions asked by parents indicate tha t they often do not fully underst:Jnd the program and that they harbor some doubts about the wisdom of their children in choosing St. John's College. Such misgivings arc usually dispelled by the opportunity to meet with tutors and administrators, to hear the program explained, to ask questions, and to get to know e-.tch other. '!'hey tlllls feel themselves to be a part of the community rather than outsiders paying the bills. Inevitably, this contributes greatly to the parents' active support of their children at t he College. The Staff After serving a lillie more than three years, Paul ewland resigned from the provostship of the College and left at the end of the academic year. He had effecti,·ely relieved me of tl1e operating responsibilities of the Annapolis campus and had gained the full cooperation of the Faculty and tl1e StaH over his period of service. 'Ve are grateful to him for his service to the College. o immediate replacement is contemplated, since the quinquennial review of the College Polity is about to be undertaken. I have serious question as to whether the College can afford the extra adm inis trative echelon of the provostship in these days of financial st ringency. For the immediate future, I shall resume full responsibility for the Annapolis campus, working closely with t he Dea n, the T reasurer, aud the Director of College Relations. The last of t hese offices represents a reorga nization of t he fom1cr Development Office and an expansion of the scope of its activities. M rs. Leanore Rinder became Registra r of the College on July I, 1973 succeeding Mrs. Christiana vVh ite, who continued as Assistant Registrar on a part-time basis so tha t she might attend classes in the St. John's program. Ray \ Villiamson succeeded Geoffrey Comber as Assistant Dean at the start of th e second semester, thus enabling M r. Comber to return to full-time teaching. Mrs. Rebecca vVilson was appointed Assistant Director of the Office of College Relations, with primary responsibilit)' for press releases, news stories, community relations, and college publications. Mrs. Nancy Blackburn became secretary to the Dean, moving from the Registrar's office at the start of the academic year. 1\l rs. Dorothy Mann, who had served the �The College College as cashier since 1959, was appointed secretary to the Treasurer. IV1rs. Jeanne Mooring, '73, and Mrs. Joanne Rowbottom, '73, were appoin ted secretaries in the Admissions Office. Mrs. C hrista Neuman n assumed the po· si tion of cashier and Mrs. Kay Omstead became secretary in the Office of C ollege R elations. Other new appointments were those of M rs. Judith Licht as mmic librarian, Mrs. Michon Semon as artist-inresidence, and Dennis Sherct as curator of the laboratories succeeding Janet N elson, '72. Special part-time leaves were arranged for Mrs. Juliana Rugg, College Nurse, to enable her to complete requirements for a Bachelor's of Nursing Science degree at the University of Maryland, and for James E. Grant to complete h is work for a Bachelor of Science degree in accounting at the University of Baltimore. Mr. Gra nt resumed full-time duties in May. He became Acting Treasurer during a five-mon th leave-of-absence granted Charles T. Elzey on June lst. l'vfrs. Rugg was accepted for graduate study at Catholic University and resigned from the College in June. Her place will be taken by Mrs. Marilyn Kyle, R.N. Miss Charlotte King resigned as part-time studen t counselor and senior resident head at the end of the academ ic year. T should like to regi~ter the College's appreciation f~r the fa ithful services of both Mrs. Rugg and Miss King over th e last four to five years. At Santa Fe, the end of the academic year witnessed th e retirement of Kirk C. Tuttle as T reasurer of the College. Mr. Tuttle had succeeded W il bur J. Hannon in 1968 and fulfilled the duties of h is office with effectiveness and und erstanding. He earned the gratitude of all on the Santa Fe campus. Another departure from the Business Office is deeply regretted, that of Mrs. Diane Trainor, assistant to the Treas urer. After some nine years of loyal service, she resigned to accept a position in business. Effective July 1, 1974 Emery Jennings assumed the responsibilities of both the treasurership <t nd the business managership. He has started on his new duties in most promisit1g fashion. The only other personnel changes were the appointments of Mrs. Anne Burrage as secretary to the Dean, Mrs. Cynthia T. Shlaer as secretary to the Director of the Graduate Institu te, and Mrs. Dana Anderson as secretary to the Assistant Deans. D uring the maternity leave of Mrs. Polly Rose, Mrs. Evalynne Rippel served as secretary to the Vice President. dation or the National Endowment for the Humanities. A prelimin;JTy accou nting indicates that the Institute barely managed to avoid a deficit. On August 16, 1974, 30 students were awarded the degree of J\tlas ter of Arts, thus b ringing to 144 the total number of degrees awarded over the eight years of th e Institute's life. For the third summer, the High School vVorkshop was successfully conducted over a four--week period. Again, support for this project came largely from Jac Holzman, '52. It is siguificant that five of the participants in earlier workshops are now enrolled as students in St. John's College. Tile Alumni The Graduate Institute Prom a fin;lllcial point of view, th e anuua l giviug campaign was somewhat disappointing, since only $32,789 \vas contributed, nearly $5,000 less than the previous year. O n the other hand, alumni activities during the year were characterized by renewed interest and enthusiasm. The al um ni admissions assis tance progr;tm was revived, and a number of alum ni th roughout the country are cont ributing helpfully to the work of the two admissions directors. N ew York alumni, under the successive direction of Francis Mason, '43, Robert K. Thomas, '63, and M iss Lovejoy Reeves, '67, held four seminars Jed by Tu tor Geoffrey Comber. An alumni summer program of two successive weeks of seminars and tu torials has just been held on the Sant'J Fe campus with 17 participants the first week and 23 the second. The success of this program will lead to a broader program in the summer of 1975, with alum ni sessions scheduled for both campuses. F inally, mention should be made of the concerted effort to gather basic and up-to-date information on all St. John's alumni. TI1e Evaluating Team of the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools had been critical of the College for its failu re to keep in closer touch with its graduates and other alumn i. To date a most promising response has been forthcoming to recent questionnaires. Bernard Gessner, '27, was reelected President of the Alumni A~socia tion for his second year. At Homecoming the last weekend in September, Robert E. Jones, '09, was presented with the Al umni Award of Merit This is a well-deserved honor, for he has been one of the active St. John's alumni on the \ Vest Coast. Dr. David Dobreer, '44, of Alhambra, California, and Francis S. Mason, Jr. '43, of New York C ity, were elected alumni representatives to the Board of V isitors and Governors in the Class of 1977. A Hurry of last minute withdrawals reduced· the enrollment in the 1974 Graduate Inst itu te to 119 teachers and other adults. David Jones, the Director, reports an excellent summer. It was the first year in which the Institu te has sought to function without general support from a foun- A constan t objective of the College is to gain more and better visibility for its program, both nationally and locally in the States of Maryland and New Mexico. In this con- Tile College and tile Public ______________________ 6 ._, �October, 1974 ncction, the College welcomed back Mrs. Rebecca W ilson, e whose initiative produced a new publication, TI1 Reporter, to serve th e College constituency in the East. This supplements rather than replaces T I1e College, which will continue as a quarterly publication, the fall number being devoted to the President's Report. Mention should be made of the article which appeared on the front page of the W;JII Street Journal in its June 6th issue, describing St. John's College. This prompted a considerable n umber of inqu iries from prospective students and others from one coast to the other. T he Caritas Society again sponsored a number of fundra ising events and otherwise contributed helpfull y to friendly relations between the College and the An napolis community. A total of $10,000 has now been raised and contributed to the College for scholarship and other purposes. Appreciation is expressed to Irs. Beth Newland, outgoing President, who will be succeeded during the coming year by Mrs. Jeannette Rosen_ In Santa Fe, Miss Mary Branham has been helpful as D irector of Public Jnfonnation in the areas of press releases, fund-ra ising, and community events. N ew friends l1ave been earned for th e College through an expanded concert progmm. Use of t he din ing hall enabled the College to expand its audience to 550 persons as compared with 300 in the Great Hall. T he Book and Author Luncheons were :•gain successful under the direction of Richard Stem, Chairman of the Library Associates Committee. Among the speakers t his past year were George Plimpton, author of The Paper Lion, and Henry Luce III, Presiden t of the Luce Foundat ion. A successful drive for current support of the College in the Santa Fe community raised some $35,000, thanks in large part to the co-chairmanship of M iss Gertrude C larke, W illiam Daniel, and Antonio J. Taylor. Finances T am especially gratified to report that both the Annapolis campus and the Santa Fe campus completed the fiscal year with revenues exceeding expenditures. This is a notable achievement in a year when inAation has taken heavy toll, when heating costs have risen astronomically, and when the depressed state of the market has made giving difficult. The favorable outcome has only been possible because of the generosity and cooperation of Board members, alumni, ~nd friends of t he College. 1 know tha t I speak for all the students, the tu l·ors, and th e staff, as well as for th e members of the Board in expressing heartfelt gratitude to each donor. The following chart summarizes gifts and grnnts received during the fiscal year under review: D onors Annapolis Santa F e Board SJC Community National Committee Alumni Parents Friends Foundations Corporations Govern ment $ 9,956 2,120 74,679 5,159 15,964 195,698 46,688 35,500 $ 547,477 44,634 4,789 4,040 5,165 79,407 196,258 20,249 155,785 Totals $385,764 $1,057,804 Purposes Annapolis Santa Fe U nrestricted Restricted Scholarships Librdry Other Grad. Institute E ndowment Plant $316,857 19,016 $ 542,650 Totals 26,379 23,512 63,040 7,867 145,404 176,723 86,920 35,200 $385,764 $1,057,804 275th Anniversary Fund This was the final year of the 275th Anniversary F und. The Fund campaign itself marked the end of the Decade of Development, which had as its goal $16.5 million for the two St. John's campuses over a ten-year period. For the Annapolis campus, a total of $2,555,446 was r.Jised over the past four yea rs, twcrfifths of this for financial aid to students and cu rrent operating funds. The major addition to the physical plant was the Harriso n 1lcalth Center, constructed at a cost of $358,629. T he sum of $707,672 was added to the College's endowment. For Santa Fe, a goal of $10 million had been set. N early half of this was designated for endowment purposes, since the western campus almost totally lacked such permanen t funds. The campaign achieved $1.3 million toward th is objective. It was most successful in raising $585,000 for the administration building and $421,259 for the music and fine arts center. The most notable pledge was $1.25 million for the Peterson Student Center, which in effect will repay most of the Joan from the Annapolis endowment fund toward the original construction on the western campus. Current operations and financ ial aid to students requ ired $2.6 million as compared with an estimated need of $2.3 million. In all, $8.4 million was raised toward the goal of $10 million, one-quarter of wh ich remains in pledges outstanding. 7 �The College To assist the College in this major effort over the past four years, we have been fortunate in having the endorsement and cooper.1tion of a distinguished National Committee of some seventy-6\·c individuals. Honorary co-chairmen of the Committee have been the late Richard F . C leveland, Paul Mellon, 44, and the late l\Iark Van Doren, while Victor Bloede, '4 1, scrv<:d as Chairman. With the end of the campaign, the N ational Committee has been disc harged. The College is grateful to each member for his or her cooperation and support. i\pprcci;•tion is expressed as well to all who participated in the 275th Anniversary Fund and who made it the ou tstanding success that it proved to be. The State of tl1e College: 19-f9 and 1974 In preparing this annual report, it has been interesting to read over the report which 1 made to the Board twentyfive years ago and to contr.Jst the St. John's College of t hat day with the institution that we know now. In its objectives and its program there arc no great differences. Two years of Greek were taught then, aud the music tutorial had just been int roduced. Gcrm~n was still taught . The laboratory and mathematics sequ ences were different. ll1e first Black sh1dent had b een accepted but women were still excluded from what had h ccn a male hastion for over two centuries. The entire student body numbered 196, a majority of whom were \ Vorld War II veter.Jns. The Faculty numbered 27, under the leadership of Jacob Klein as Dean. In those days, a St. John's education was priced at $650 for tuition, and another $600 for room and board. The faculty salary scale sta rted at $3,000 and moved up by st·cps to a m<txirnum of $5,000. '111e entire college budget carne to $377,446. Fees accounted for $ 147,~76 of income, a grant from Old Dominion Foundation for $ 150,000, and a subvention from th e State for Maryland State Scholnrships for $63,000. The College's balance sheet showed tota l assets of $1.5 million, most of which was in land, buildings, and equipm ent. T here was a paper endowment of $255,000 and restricted building fun ds of $84,000. 1lte endowment actually consisted of the Brice House, used as a faculty apartment building, a note receivable for $88,000 from current funds, and 2ln% United States Government bonds in the amount of some $ 11 2,000. Finally, the College was still confronted with mortgage debts of $168,900, and with the stark fact that accreditation had been denied for thirteen years by the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools. By contrast, the St. John's College of 1974 carries on its unique academic program on two campuses, the historic eastern one at Annapolis, and the new southwestern one at 8 Santa Fe, New Mexico. Both arc full y accredited by their regional accrediting agencies. Both arc open to men and women without regard to color or creed, provided only that the prospective student presen t evidence of an inquir· ing mind and a genuine will to learn. Both follow essentially the sam e fully prescri bed curriculum. P receptorials for juniors and seniors have displaced the seminar for an eight-week period in the late fall and early winter. Enabling examinations have been changed, at ld t he laboratory has been considembly modified. The concept of the student's full and active participation in his own education rema ins, as does the sense of community which animates both tutors and student alike. Talk is still live and vigorous, the books still timeless and timely. The 1974 students numbered 625, triple the enrollment of 25 years ago. 1lte Faculty has grown and matured, though most of the Greats of 1949 arc now either deceased or retired. F ifty-two tutors taugh t 369 students at Annapol is last year, while 39 tutors taught 256 students at Santa Fe. Faculty salaries now r.Jnge fro m $10,400 to just over $21,000, a maximum figure four times that of 1949. M ea nwh ile, the price of a St. ]oi111'S education has in· crC<~ sed accordingly, to $4,300 in Annapolis for tuition, room, and board and to $4,050 in Santa Fe. This is more than triple the modest $1,250 paid by students 25 yea rs ago. Over a half million dollars is now made available in financial aid to stud ents, as compared with one-fifth that sum two and half decades ago. T he combin(. d oper.1ting budgets of St. John's College for the yea r just ended amounted to $4.3 million, eleven times the size of the 1949·50 budget. The balance sheets showed total assets of over $ l 5 million in Annapolis and of over $8 million in Santa Fe, sixtee n limes the figure in the 1949-50 audit. As to la·nd, the College has now added to its 36-acre Annapolis campus 310 acres iu Santa Fe, as well as 760 acres near Salinas, C~1liforn i a, site of a possible third campus at some future date. As to endowment, the Annapolis campus shows a book va lue of approximately $8.5 million, thirty-three times the sma ll paper endowment of 25 yea rs ago. Santa Fe, to be sure, has only attained endowment of $330.939, though there is promise of a sum to increase that figure to a million dollars in the coming year. Everything considered, the two campuses are in a rcmMkably sound financial condition, particularly when one ccmsidcrs the plight of many small liberal arts colleges in these days of inflation. In Retrospect As J think back over my years at St. John's College, certaiu impressions and certain developments tend to stand out. Perhaps it is my tr.Jining as an historian or perhaps it �October, 1974 is the natural appreciation of heritage that accompanies aging. In any event, I thin k increasingly of my two and a half decades as bei ng a period of stewardship or trustee· ship in the 278-ycar-history of St. John's. M y responsibility, and indeed my privilege, has been to nourish the distinctive ed ucational program of the College and to protect it from external pressures and internal erosion, to widen the sphere of understanding an d appreciation of the College, to preserve, improve, and b eautify the two campuses, and assure th e future of this College through sufficient support and financial un dergirdi ng. N o president can achieve goals like these without the cooperation of his fellow tutors, stud ents, staff, and Board members. All of these have helped me as I have sough t to fulfill my tenure of trust or stewardship. For this I am deeply grateful. \Vith such apprecia tion clearly in mind, let me set down certain of the developments and achievements which have meant the most to me during the one-eleventh of the College's long history that has been entrusted to me. First and foremost, it has given me the greatest satisfaction to build an exciting and committed Faculty. To a remarkable degree, the College has discovered and further educated stimulating teachers who are worthy successors to those senior Tutors whom I found here in 1949. It has been gratifying to me to assure these tutors greater independence and recompense through a tenure plan, a regular salary scale, a home-loan program, insurdnce and medical benefits, and a liberal sabbatical leave program. Teaching at St. John's is a tremendously demanding and challenging experience. There could be no St. John's program without the li beral skills, the intellectual curiosity, the sympathetic und erstanding, and the genuine dedica tion of its tutors. In the ongoing life of the College, probably the most significa nt development has been the formulation and adoption of th e Polity in 1950, and its regular quinquennial review and amendment ever since. This instrumen t introduced order into the College's operations, but without sacrifice of Aexibility for changing conditions. I Lind particularly helpful and appropria te to St. John's the concept which Robert Goldwin espoused during his deanship, that erased the distinction between administration and faculty. The 1970 Polity made members of the Faculty of St. John's College both the Tutors, or teaching members, and the Associates, whose primary task was to support the teaching but who might in many cases be encouraged to participate in the teaching on a part-time basis. A ma jor change in the College which marked us as pioneers was the decision to admit women in 1951. This considerably antedated the women's liberation movement and the introduction of co-education in many prestigious colleges and univcrsit ks in the United States. Moreover, I am pleased that the College has practiced no discrimination as to sex in its faculty appoint ments or compensation. I am proud of the fact that women were first appointed to the Faculty and to the Board of Visitors and Governors during my presidency and that Mrs. Walter Driscoll served as the Board's Chairman for two years. It has been gra tifying to observe the widening recognition accorded to St. John's College through the '50's, '60's, and '70's. Full accreditation was granted by the Middle States Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools in 1953 and was subsequ ently twi ce renewed in decen nial reviews. The North Central Association similarly accredited the Sa11ta Fe campus in 1969. The St. John's Program has served as a model, in whole or in pa rt, for cnrricular refonn at other colleges and universities, notably Notre Dame U niversity, St. M ary's College, Thomas Aquinas College, and, in a planning stage, at Colby College and the Grand Valley Colleges of Michigan. The inB uence of St. John's has been felt in the Association of American Colleges where I served as chainnan of the Commission on Liberal Education and later as vice-chai rman and chairman of the Association. I was responsible for introducing the summer intellectual life seminars for college presidents and deans, a program based on the St. John's seminars on Great Books. T various \vays word of the College has been n disseminated- through publication of T he College, commencing in 1969, th rough three films, through TV seminars on the Great Books, and through articles in such journals as the S:1turday Review, the The N ew York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and the Wall Street Journal. Finally, it has been a source of sa tisfaction to have the College recognized by inclusion in th e V enture Funds progra m of the Porcl Foundation, on panels of the Nationa l Endowment for the Humanities, and in the gran t programs of the Arthur Vining Davis Foundations, the Carnegie Corporation, the Thomas J. Watson Foundation, and the Henry Lucc Foundation. It is clear that St. John's College is now widely admired and respected in the academic world, not as an interesting experiment, but as a proven al ternative to the conventional college with its departmental system and its emphasis upon specialization. I suspect that I might be guilty of false modesty were I not to confess that I have enjoyed being an architect and a builder. At Annapolis the old 18th century campus has invited tender loving care. Humphreys Ilall (1835), Chase-Stone H ouse (1857 ), and W oodward Hall (1904) have all been gutted and superbly reconstructed while retaining their exterior integrity. The Carroll Barrister H ouse ( 1719) has been moved onto campus from lower Main Street and restored. ·n1e f-Iarrison Health C en ter has been 9 I �The College imaginatively designed and constructed beside it. All utility poles and wires have been removed from campus and a beautiful plaza or overlook has been created back of McDowell Hall. A t1cw heating plant, Campbell Hall, Mellon Flail, and the Francis Scott Key Memorial Auditorium were built in the 1950's. Dedication of Key and Mellon stands vividly in recollection, for President Dwight Eisenh ower flew over from Vv'ashington to make the address. On the same program Paul Mellon and Mark Van Doren were designated H onora ry Fellows of St. John's College. Tbe single development which I have found the most challenging has been the creation of the Santa Fe campus. Few men are given such an opportunity to bring a 11ew college like this into being. From the affi rmative dec ision of the Board in 1961 to the College's opening on October l, 1964, it was high adventure-site planning, fund raising, arc hitectural planning, and building construction. T he ten years since have witnessed both successes and frustrations. But St. John's Santa Fe is now a viable and functioning instituti on which has earned for itself the respect and affection of the community and which has attracted able students from all over the United States. Moreover, its G raduate Institute is reac hing a broad, national consti tuency, a rewa rding outreac h of the St. John's Program to elementary and secondary sc hool teachers a nd other adults. M y satisfaction arises not only from these considerations but also from the knowledge that the establishment of an exciting new learning communi ty has been match ed by the creation of beauty in campus buildings and in t he objects of art with in them . Last but hardly least, I must confess to a great sense of pride in the membership of the Board of Visitors and Governors over the years. I have always felt that one of my most important respons ibilities was the search for excellent potential Board members and their enlistment in our common ca use of a St. John's liberal education. All of you on the Board have contributed generously of you r energies, your time, your counsel, an d your substance. You have encouraged me when difficulties have beset. You have been willing to venture when trustees' prudence might have dictated otherwise. You have demonstrated your confidence in and your respect for the Faculty and have built gen uine bridges of understanding and cooperation with those who teach and those who learn at St. John's. Yon are not only my Board an d my policy-makers, you are my close friends as well. And that fact I cherish deeply. Since 1949, St. John's College has graduated over twelve hundred men and women on its two campuses. T hese alumni, and the even larger number who have been students for lesser periods, are the best source of inspiration and gratification. At matriculation convocation each fall, lO a new entering class of freshmen from all over the United States a11d abroad is introduced to me and begins its collective life at the College. To me, as to the ot·her tutors, the greatest sense of satisfaction comes from observing their individual progress and development in to "capable and sensible" men and women, according to John Stuart l\l[ill's definition. Following their subsequent careers in the professions or in the market place is a further reason for gratification. It makes the St. Joh n's venture infini tely worth all the investment each of us has made in it. Tomorrow, as yesterday and today, St. John's College is needed in this country-as a gadfly, as a leaven, and as a model in the educa tional world. But more tha n that, the nation needs citizens who can distinguish right from wrong and tm th from propaganda, who can relate the life of the mi nd to the arena of daily activity, and who are prepared to accept their obligations and responsibilities. I hope that St. John's College will contin ue to devote all its energies to the liberal education of such you ng men and women. I hope that I may contin ue to share in that venture, if not for another quarter century, at least for whatever period is accorded to me. Richa rd D . Weigle President Annapolis, Maryland July 31, 1974 �BALANCE SHEETS June 30, 1974 ASSETS LIABILIT1ES AND FUND BALANCES CURRENT FUNDS Annapolis Unrctitricted Cash . , .• .• .•.. .......... ...... ...... ..••. . . . • . Acc.oonts Re-ceivable, ~ et . , . .. ••••••. ... Due trorn Santa Fe Campus .. ...••...•••••• . •• Due f ron:a Other }-..unda ... • , , . .•..•...... . . . . . • I nventory, Book tore, at Co!Jt .•• •... ••••• · . .... s Investments, at Cost . .. , .• , .••... ... . ... Prepaid Ext>ens~s 64,951 17,061 17.093 Sa:nta Fe $ 53,D1~ 17.654 9,417 28.820 125 8,165 .. . ....... . • . .•.•••• . •••.• . • -- 145,132 R~stricted 225,355 840 189,014 Ca~th ,,, •........ . ... . .. . . ... . L oans and At<'Oun ts neceivable .. 26.086 15,438 83.978 ---197,070 s $ 111.850 4.586 11,410 --415,209 ---- 560.341 601 171,996 19,229 26,074 169,225 1.000 2, 4D4 182.586 ?9.198 19.921 N~: ~b~li:~iFu~&~~~.:::::: :~ ::·:::: ::::::::: a·.ils4 -- $ 119.659 25,473 $ Reserve for Fuhue Ope"tations --- Rel)tricted Fund $ 145.132 B~lancH ---s 135,458 $ 6 J,GL.2 ---s 197..o70 --$ 560.341 s ---s $ • •.•.. , •.. 169.684 12,902 $ 170,500 28,52Z $ 415.209 127,846 208.022 Tot.a.l Current .F'und~ 324.91 6 LOAN FUNDS • •• .• • •• • • ••• • •••••••••••••••••••.• S tudent I.,o..aus Reeeto:abl<- •••••••••••.• .. . . • . •••••• . National Direct Student Loans .... •• . • . •••••...•.. United Student Aid Depo&it •••••.• ...... . . . . • ..... Due f rom Current Fund ••••••••...••• . • ••• •••••• . ToUt] Loan func:ho . . . LIFE E STATE FUNDS 17,409 180.976 Total LiCe Est.n te Funds 198.385 ENDOWMENT FUNDS Cash . ... . . ........ . ..... .••••••••• . . . Rec~ivablE!$ •••. . .. .. . PJ~a-e-s Receivable , .. , •• , ••••.•.•.... . . . .•. . . • .• , .. . , . . . . . . . . .. . ... . ... . lnvtstmcnt Cash Account ....... . .. . . ..... . . . .. • . •• lnvC$tmcnta, at Cost , .. . .. .. ........... . .. ...... . . F~u nds UnexJ)(!ndcd Plant Funds .. . .. . .. . Bo"d Sinking Fund I nvestments . .. . Total :Plant F un•Js •..... Total Loan Funda ..... ... . . , , ..••.•. .. $ 182.586 $ 208,022 $ 198.385 $ Lbl.bilit:v U nder Aar('tme-nt.s • • • •... Total Life ~:state Funds ....• . ..••••••• 108.38& ENDOWMENT FUNDS 55,70S 1,328,976 700 35.246 7.384,324 $ s. 8.804,961 ---- s 375.Gi7 5,682.153 394.221 584,000 $ $ ---- 4,476 3,641 328.700 - - -- $ Tot.t~J $8.803. 17 1 1.780 $8,804.951 Endow men L F u nds . ... .. . .. . . $ 330.939 $ 386,816 "5".877 PLANT F UNDS ---s 7,036, 05 1 $ Fund Baht nee . .••..•...••.• ..... ... . .. . ••..•...... Unexpended Jneon\(~ •.•••••••••• .. . ... .•••••••••.• Due Cu.rrent Fund . . .... . • • • • . ••.. . .. . • ...•••..••. 336,816 PLANT FUNDS Land & lmprovemtntt ....... . 8\lildings .. . .... ... . .... . ..... . . . . Equipmen t, Furnishinjt'S, L ibrary Dooks Land & Improvements, California Advances f'rom Federal Government ! o r Nationa l Direct Student Loans . ... ... ....... . Fund lla lance . . ... . . , . . , , , . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , .. LIFE ESTATE FUNDS Due from Current Unrestricted Jo~und s ..... . ...... . Due frorn Plant Funds .•..... •. .•.•.. • , , , . , . . . .• Total Funds . Stud~n t Advance Deposits . .. . , •••. ... . .. .. .... Deterrt..-d Income . . . . . . . . . . . . .•.... , . , , . , . Santa Fe $ 16.883 19,623 28.064 38.655 32,233 127.846 LOAN FUNDS Total Endowment Annapolis 16.556 s -- ---s Totol Curren t Fund!l Ca.sb Unrestricted Accounts Pa)•abte ... . . . ...... . . .• . , . . .. . . .. .. . 324.916 9,989 Investmenl6 M CO$l •••••••... .... CURRE NT FUNDS 4,978 $ 7.041,029 ---$16.588.907 304.777 5,91)6,366 626.886 5?,038,020 s 11.386 s 225.306 ---3 7,274,721 - --$ 8.342,860 Due to Other Funds .... •.• . .. . .•.•. .•• •••• ••••• . ••• Alort.gagc Pay·~t.ble . . . . . . . . . . .. .•...•... ••• .• ••••• No tt1S PayabJo--Ot.hor ......• • . ..•• • •• .. •• ••• •••••• Loana Payable to AnnnpoJia: CampUJ .. ... ••••.••••• Dor rnftory Bonds Payabl& ......• •.••. ..• •••••••••• Net fn ve!5tment in Plant . . ... . .. . . . . . . . . . , •• . ••••• Unexpended Plant Funds Bond Sin king f.'und T otal Plant Fund!'! Total Funds .......... . . . . 34.339 6 ,981 6,994,731 --- $ 7,036.051 $ 4,978 s ······ - --$ 7,041,020 - --- $16,688.907 $ 180.976 ·s·s·.4i~ 1,142,694 1,606,000 4,072,045 - - -- s 7,038,029 $ $ 11.386 226,306 - -- s 7,274,721 s 8,342,860 ---- 0 0 (") o" (1) .;-< -.o "-.] ...j>. �- N ~ ;;; CONDENSED STATEMENTS OF REVENUE AND EXPENDITURES ANNAPOLIS ENDOWMENT FUNDS Fiscal Year Ended June 30, 1974 A. W. l.hUon Total Clft of F oundation Pund. Oonor ~ht4".hin• CiJt Pr-ind,pal $ 313.432 ' . • • • $ 313,432 . .. . 2,679.845 2,679,845 500.000 2,489,9S4 1.989,954 160.216 ISO.OOO 300.216 TUTORSHIP EKDOWMENTS Richard Hammond Elliott. 1917 . , , •••. . Andrew W. Mellon Foundation Grants .•..••.. Addison F:. Mullikin, J896 ................ •• . . .. Arthur do Talma Valk, 1906 ................. .. . REVENUE Edueadonal & Ct'n~ral 1'\lltion Fef'8 ••. .... • , • . ~ ••• •• , ... ..•• •. • , •••• t<:ndowment , , ••.. . . .... , .... •• , , ..•••. . .•. , ••• Clfc.t and Grants . .... ••••• • •••••••••••••••••.. Government Ptotrra:ma A Grant.a • , •..• .....•• , • Graduate lntthute .•..•............ . , .•..• , .... Annapoli• $ 1.080.890 448,155 2SU21 <5.902 Mltcellane-ouw ••. ..... , , , , ....•. , .. , , , • ••.... • , 48.599 15.031 689.%90 126 ••~6 54,080 106.752 $1 ,907.967 S1.698.U 4 Student Financial Aid ... .• , . • , •••• , ....• , ••••.. , •. Auxilia ry Enterpr-ltes Boohwre .......... . 55.924 139.708 IH .226 -369.909 -$ Total Rto,·enue. •• , --- Net Income ---I 101,8 13 n.u8.96t $ 96.98G 41.676 l53.~7C 137.328 ' 332.279 -$2.127.799 - -- ---' 3.209 EXPENDITURES Gi!.neral •.•• , • , .. .. ..•.•••......• . •• , , • ••••••. l n1lruction, Undergraduate ••.••..• , ... •.•••• .• ln8l.ruction, Oraduau A Other ••••.••.•• . .•••••• St·ud•nt Actfvltles . ••••••... .. .•••••.•••...•••• Federal P roaratna .. ••••••• • . .. •••• •. • . • ..••••• Plant Opera tiona & M~lnt.tnanee ••...••••••••.. 326,61 9 181.415 919,960 1.8<7 24.896 401),680 --- $1 ,860.467 $ 2 12.916 173.211 736.264 193.590 30.404 10.34(; 230.241 -$1,587.071 - -- Student. fo" inancial Aid . •.•• , ••••••••••• , . ...• •••... Auxiliary Enterprltel IH.731 ' 212,220 Boolctco..., •.••••••.••••••...••••••••••••••..••• 60.396 166.662 ' 41.603 128.401 111,048 Dining Hall •.. ..... .•••••• ... •..•••. . . . • ••••• Dorn1itoriett . , ... , •••..• , , • . ... . . , •.••••••••• , • Other Expeodhuru .... •.• . T otal Expenditur~ ... .... ' ........ 225.958 $2,261.156 $ 281.0U 44,166 ' $2,12<.600 = $3,329.845 $6.783.447 15.000 25.000 7.500 3,070 8.672 87.933 6.159 13.705 135 1.000 38.606 25.01!6 160.250 42.787 600 36.000 39.449 8.000 22,685 30.262 26.000 6,265 15,000 25,000 30.000 60,000 7,500 6,140 8,672 87.933 6,159 13.705 270 1,000 40,866 706.~2& ' ---- =-= Educational &: General Admlnietratlvc ... . ••••••... . . . •.••• , , , •..••• , • $2.453.602 Sa nta P e 5 91.09:1 Dln,ng Hall Dorm1to'tiH , •....••••••••••....•.. , •• ••••••... 0 £. June 30, 1974 SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS Ahnapolf• Self Htlp .. .... ...... ....... ....... . CeorKe M. Autin Memorial, lto8 .. . .••••... . ... Walter S. Baird, 1930 . ... ........ ........ , . , .. . Chic:.ago ll~iona1 . .• , .... . ..• , ••.. ...... , ...... . Cl ... ot 1897 . .. ...... . . .................. .. .. . . Class ot 1898 ••....•••••....••••••.....•••• •• .. . Ric.hard Cleveland •..• , •....•• , ••••....•••••. ..• Dr. Charlts C. Cook .........••.. , ....• • . • ..... Corp. r.oorlite E.. CunliiT, Ol .•.•.••••• . . , , ••• .. . Cha rcne., Dick inson, 1911 ....... , ............... . F'aculty •••••. .. ••••.•••• · · · • • • • • • · • •• • · • • • • • • • · J ohn T. and Gt-.rttude L. Barrilon, 1907 ..•••.... Ric.hard li. Hodpon, lto6 ..................... . Alfred Hou•con, 19~. Student Aid .. .... ..... . Houato·n R4!'Jfional •••• , ...•••• , •••. .. , .. , •. , , . . .• Jesae H. Jones and Mary Glbbl J on~ • •. •...•• , Robert Jo;, and Mar"'aret Larsh J ones, 1909 ••..•.•• Arthur E. and Hilda Combs Landen, lt30 ... ..• Massac.huut.ta Res-lonaJ .. .••••••.••••.•••••••..• Philip A, Myers, II, 1038 ........ .. ............ . Oklahoma Regional , •.. . ....•• , .. , , • .• , , , . . . , ••• Thomaa Parran Memorial, 191'1 ••••••• •. , . , ••• • •• Pittsburxh R~ional •••••••.••• • •••••••.••••••• . Readtra Diiett Foundation ................... .. . Clifton 0. Roeb.le ••••••...•.•••••••••.•••• , ••. . . bl urray Joel Rou nb.r;r .Memorla.l • . ..••• • , •.. . . . 1-tuel Norrl11 and .l. Crabam Shannahan, 1908 •• • . Cla.rence W. Str·yke.r •••..••.• , •••••••. ••• , ••.. .. 1-"'rede.riek J . ''on Sehwtrdtner .•••• • •..... , ••... Richa.rd D. Weiale . . ..•• ••• •.• .• .• •• ••....•.. .. · ·s·.o7 o 135 2,359 20.025 160,260 2.500 600 36.000 n,05o 300,500 45.287 1.000 72,000 81,U9 8.000 46.370 39.262 62.000 6,266 1.120 12.500 7,055 3.751 3 .664 7.181 1,652 18,220 22,6$5 9.000 26.000 ~0 560 12.500 7.056 3. 751 3.664 3.768 1.552 10.8S3 3.41 3 7.367 $ 636.607 ' 323,864 ' 960,4 81 $ 24.725 6,900 J 20.000 1,470 $ 44 ,726 7,460 80,716 ' 21.4 70 ' 62,185 STUDENT LOAN FUND ENDOWMENTS Grotfle ~·rledland . • . • . . . . . . . • . • . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . John David Pyle, 1962. Memorial..... .... .. .. ... AI"UMNf MEMORIAL ENDOWMENTS Granville Q. Adanu. 19U . ••••••... .•• •••••... .. Charles Edward$ Atb.,-, 1931 , , ... .... ........ .. . William 1'-... B•xur. 1023 ....•••. • ....•.• , ...... . Drew H. Ocntty, 1008 .... . . ...... . . .......... . . Dr. William Brewor, 1823 .................... . •"'rede.rtdc W. Brune, 1874 ..................... .. Benjamin Duvall Cham ben, 1906 •. .•. •.•..••.• . Htnry M. Cooper, Jr., 193.4 . , , •...•• .• •. , , ...••.. \Valter I. 0fnvk.ina, 1880 .•. , • , . , •• , ••••.••.•••• . Robert F . Ouer, Jr., 1921 ....... ..... .......... . Dr. Phillip H. Edwards. 18&8 ••••.....••.••••.• 1,100 6,725 25 600 125 8$5 2,638 1,000 68,683 3.590 1.135 200 1Z5 607 1.000 335 935 1.100 6,725 26 800 250 1,362 2,638 2,000 68,683 8,92o 2,120 elf ~ �J oteph W. f'utner, Jr., 1960 ...... . . ~ · .••••.•. . Allen Lester Jt'owlt':r, 1915 ........ ....... . ...... . Edna G. and Rot4!0C E. Crovt, 1910 ••••• • .. _•..•• Chad~ W. HaN, 1027 ••..•• .. . • •• •...... . , • •• , . , Or. A moo F. Huk h!no, 190G ••• . • .. ...•.•..•• .. . Clarenee T. Johnaon. 1900 ................ . .... . Clifford L. Jobnoon, Ull ••• . . ......•........ • • .. lltlen R. Jon• and Robert 0 . J ones. 1916 ..•... . Jonathan D. Konbin. 11860 Library F und • .. ... • . Oliver W o Korshln, 1963 Library Fund Dr. \V. Okar Lalfottto, 190% • •. • •• .. .•••••••• .•• John H. E. lAte... 1821 •••••••••..• ••• •••• • •••.• . WUJiam Lent&. 1112 .......................... .. ~Ia B. and Thomu W. Llaon, 1916 •..... .... •• Col. J- anlson Mc.AJfne. 1109 . ...•..• • ••... . o o • • • • l Jam'-'1 R. McCUntoc.k. 1965, Prize Fund •... ...... Vincent. W. Mc.Kay, 19 C6 •.. . . ... •••••••• . • o • • • • H. Boyns MacMann i4o 1924 .••.••.•••• ••• ••.•... . R ob.!rt E. Moddo•. 1876 .... . . • . •••••••••••. .. •• WiiJiaro P. Maddo,x, 1921 ... . . .... ........ .. . .. . Char)et C omber M~tntr., 1876, Library Fund ...• • • William L. Mayo, 1899... .... ...... .. ... ... .. Ridgely 1'. ) ! tlvln, 1800 ......... .. .. . ......... . Wrn. S. Monwll. 1023. Athlette F und .. . .. . .. , •.. J oh o Mullan. 1847 . • . . •••.• , . .. • . ....... , ..... . \Vnlter C. ltt)'landcr, Jr. 1032 .. .. . .. . , , , , .. . ... . M. K•lth N eville, 1905 ... .......... .. .. .... .. . Dr. John 0 . Neuatadt. 1939 ........ . . . ...... .. . Dlanehor4 !land• II. ISH ...... .. . . .. . ... . . . . . . . . S uun Irene Roberti , 1906 ... ... ....... . .. . ... .. Loroy T. Roh"er, 1903 ..... .. .... .. ........... .. . Elliott A. ltoKenbcrg, L !l63 . . . ........ .. ..... .. . Harrison Sas•etr, 10·14 . ..... • •••••••• ••••••••• • . Chari.. u . Sehofr, 1889 .. .. .... . .. .. . ... . . . . . . HerH'Y F'. Stur dy , 1006 •.•••• , •• .• •• • •• • • o • • • • • • • Rev. Enoch M. T hom pton, 1896 ...... . . . .....•.• John 1'. Tucker, 19 14 •••• . . ....•. • • •.••• •• •• • • • Dr. Robert S. C. Woleh , 1918 ..... , .. . .. ... . ... . Dr. Willi• H. \Vhlto, 1922 .... . ....... . ..... . .. . 0 Am~>& 0 ••••• ••• • W. W . Woo<lecek. 1003 ..•. , . . . .. .. . ..... . A. W. ~hUon Total Gift of F ou_ datlon n Fund Donor l1atchin« Gift Principal 2,000 2.000 500 600 1,000 1 6.~56 16,666 40 40 658 633 1,291 100 100 100 100 18,857 7,563 26.920 200 200 200 200 5,HO 5.140 23,223 23.223 1,020 1.020 2,040 5,000 6.000 325 650 32S 466 466 20.800 20,800 4,500 4,500 1,650 1.6GO 2,000 2.000 1,000 1,000 12 .219 12,219 100 100 200 5,000 5.000 10.000 10.000 10.000 20,000 5,933 M33 1.000 1.000 2.000 1,100 1.109 S31 330 1.1 81 702 702 100 200 100 1.340 1.340 4,550 4,550 500 1.000 600 28.633 28.633 3,000 3,000 6.000 2.600 2,500 125 125 250 625 625 1,260 2,000 1,000 3. 000 8 260,69R S 34,973 $ 295.57 1 A. W. Mellon Total Gift of Founda tion Fun.d Donor Matchinc Gift Pri_ cipaJ n €1ma R. and Charle. D. T odd Memor ia l Library F'und ........................... . .. .. Millard Tydln•• Priu F·und . ... , ..... . ... . . . .. . Clara 8. WtiJcle Memorial L ibrary Fund ....... . Dan i~l E. WeiRie and J t'88ie N. Wt[tle Aol tmorlAI Pund •••••.••. . •. .•.••.••.• • •• • .• • •. The Jack WUtn Foundation Libra..,. Fund iD Mtmory of Murray J oel lto$enberg . ... . .. . . . VIetor Zudcnkandl )lenwrial Fund .. . .. . .... .. ~ Alumn i Endowment • •• •. . . • ........ . . ..•••• . . .. Gf-neral Endowment ••.•... .... .... 19,500 1,000 1,196 2,500 2,600 1.000 19.326 207,171 526.119 $1,196,433 $ 295,73( R...rvatlon or P rofi-Sale or Securities . . . . . . . Tc tal Endowment Principa l .. .. .. .. . Cl,492,167 $4,79'1.285 $8,803,171 --------------. ------S 219,3!0 $ • . . . . S 219,330 $4, 005,886 SANTA FE ENDOWMENT FUNDS June 30, 1974 SCHOLARS HIP ENDOWMENT llulen nnd Everet t. Jones Fdnd .. ....... , ...... . . .......... .. . . JteJ\dere D lte~•t f'nun d ulon . .. ................ .. ..... .. , , •• , • . . . .. . N inA Owro Wa r ren Memoria l F und • •• • •.. . . .... . .... • .. . . ..... . . , . Gone •·•• I Seho lnrahh) F und .. . . , .. . . . ...... .. . ..... . . , , , , . Evel)' n Mitchell M~morial f.'un d . .... , .• , . . ..... .............. . Graduate Tns LiLu tc .••••• • •• • • ••. , .. •• • •• . . • • •• • •.•.. . Montf:rt)' Mack. , Mtmorlal Fund • . •• .. ... . ..•.. Emily Do)'ee Madcubin Fund ..... ............... . E )14!n C. Murphy Memorial Library Fund ....•• • • Kate Moor@ Abe.-. Land&capina- J;"'und .. • . ••• ••••.. Henr>' Jl. 4nd Cora Dodson Suaeer Nt'W8PAI'tr F\l nd .• , , •.•... , •..... , . , , . ..... . . Adolph W. Sch midt fo"'und •. .... , ...... ........ . . Uichard ScoOtld MemorJal Fund .•.•••••• • • •. . . .. .M n. Dlnil' T. Scott Memorial Priu F"und . . .. . , , . K~thry·n M)'lroio St.evenK Memoria) Prh:e Fund ... . Clare Eddy nnd l:ug•no V. T haw, 1947 l..cc:turc.ebip l!'und • • , , ••• ... • .. •.• •..• .• • •• • ••• ~ v J Girt o! D onor $ 90,000 12.500 1,875 7,167 26.000 457 s 136.989 LI BRA RY ENDOWMENT Em len Davl(.'• F'und , , , . , ..........••. , . •• . • . . •• . • ... .. .•.••.•.•... 1, 118 1.160 2.000 800 1.000 32,001 An&'tllnt~ E~t.t.on Memorial Fund ....••... • . • .. . . .. .....•••• ••••.. : . . Nina S. Carson M(.'mOria l Fund ... , . , . ... . . . . . . .. , . , , , . , ..•.... . .. Duane L. Peterl!lon Memorial Fund . ... . . . . . . .. . ... • , • . •••••• • V lctOT Zuckerkandl Memorial Fund ......... . . . ......... . ....... . . . M~mortal, Honor, and Life Mtmbuship Funds •.... •••• o • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ••• OTHER ENDOWMENTS Philo Shtrm•n Bmnen Prize Fund .....• • •...•. B~nwood Foundation Libr&rJ' Fund .• , , ••... ... GtotRe A. Blmdt:y Memorial f."und ....•.. .....•• . Scott Ruebanan Memorial Fund • ..... . . ..•.••.. Helen C. and Ceorge OaYidson. Jr., 1918 ...•..... The Ounalnlt .Memorial F"und .........•••.. . •... t---und for Tomorrow Lec:tu~hip . .. .. . .. . .. ... . floyd liAl'den PriH Fun(. ...................... . Joseph H. Huen Foundation I...ectureship Fund .. M.ar7 Safford R~ewertr Memorial LJbrary f'und Maraaret Lauck Memorial Library Fund . .• . • ••.. Libra ry Fund ...... . ..... .......••.•• • .•... . .. . . 1,000 19,326 393,480 621,111 186.3 09 0 lh.rlha S. a nd J ette L. Adame Concert Fund .... Alumni Memor ial Doole P und ...•••••.... .... ..• • Charlt:s Edward Stuart Buton Memorial Library Fund .••••... ......•.•••••..........•• 89,001) 1,000 1.196 19,500 $ 60.000 60.000 306 $00 308 25,000 20,250 5,170 21.125 10.000 s.ooo 78 1,000 31,683 7S9 2$.000 1,500 1.500 518 1,250 15,900 600 308 500.00 20.250 5,170 10.000 6.000 101 1,000 81.683 •oo 1,500 15,628 1,46i 120,000 366 21. 12~ 3.000 26 560 900 76,192 124.349 $ 789 960 900 75.192 3.000 124,349 1,600 15,628 1,467 518 1.250 10,900 39,059 OTHER ENDOW)I ENT Bromwell Aull. Sr., Memorial Fund . .. ~ ...... .. . . .. . .. ............ . Hen..,. Au1tin Poetr,. Fund ••• • .. .. • .. . . .. .. ... • ••. o • • • • ~ _ • • • • • • • • • Maraa ret Brtdw•ll Howlie Fund ... ......... .• , , . . .. . .. .. ...... , .• , . Pletcher Catron Me-tnnrial Fund •..... .. . .. .. ....•..•.. _. ~ ......... ,, Mar~o Da wn Gerber Priu Fund .. . ...... . .. .... . .. . . . . .. .. . . , .. , •• Elbabtth R. and A J•in C. Gr&vts Memori&l Fund ........ ...••...... Marean!'t Milllktn Huch Fund .... ....• • •.•. . . ........• ...• , .•••• • Prank Patania Memorial F\ md ....•.••. . . . . .. . ....•.•••..•........ Winfitld Townley Seot.t Memorial Fund . .. . . .... .•.•• ~····••o •• • • .. . E. J. "Tommy_.. Thompson Memorial Fund .• . •• .... ........ . . ... , , . Millard E. Tydinl'l Pri&e F'und ... ..... .. ....... .. .. .. ...... ...... . . C lAre B. Wela-le MtmoT'iaJ Fund .... . , . . .. .. . . J eute N . and Dan itI E . Vleigle F und , , . . . .• . .. .. . Other Funda ....... . ..... . 1,037 6.500 40,000 1,300 1,141 8.881 35.000 s,an 2,U 6 1.866 1,000 4.113 2.600 3i6 $ 110. 188 l.A:Je A lnnlOS Raneh School Fund .• •• •• • . .• . . . . .. . .. . . . •••••••••••••• , Ca in {Lou) on Sule of Securities . ... . . . . Total Endowment F unds 0 8' c:r n () F OUNDATION ENDOWME NT F UND $ ($ 60,117 6,014) $ 330.939 ~ '"' ....... -.o '--I ...j>.. �The College TWENTY-FIVE YEARS Ma;or Developments The Academic Program 1949-1950 Enrollment Faculty Budget 196 27 $377,446 Richard W e igle elected President. First College Polity adopted by Bo-Jrd of Visitors and Governors. J;~cob Klein appoin ted Dean. \\' ritten enabling exams moved back to June from fall of senior ycm. Enrollment Faculty Budget 173 25 $455.612 Board votes to admit women students in September, 1951. Music tutorial inaugurated for freshmen under Victor Zuckerkandl's direction. Enrollment Faculty Budget 151 17 $413,804 Enrollment Faculty Budget 133 19 $478,789 Enrollment Faculty Budget 125 25 $555,17() E nrollment Faculty Budget 139 1950-1951 1951-1952 Individua l lab projects initiated in senior year. 1952-1 953 St. John's accredited hy M idd le States Association of Collegt-s and Secondary Schools. Fire ges dam:o McDowell Hall (November ) . Self-sl·ndy undertaken on grant from the Fund for the Advancement of Education. Sophomore language tutorial to emphasize English and Creek. 1953-1954 Teaching internship program begun with six appointees. Enabling exams moved to end of sophomore year. 1954-1955 26 First six women graduate. Initial quinquennial review of College Polity completed. Self-study published in April. $504,080 1955-1 956 Enrollment Faculty Budget 166 24 Faculty study group instituted. First theme "Classical Logic and Modem Logic." $531,628 1956-1957 179 Enrollment Faculty Budget $622,430 Enrollment Faculty Budget 212 29 $679,679 Enrollment Faculty Budget Enrollment Faculty Budget $9H,33 1 Enrollment Faculty Budget 280 36 $1,030,830 Boa rd creal·es Visiting Committee to establish closer relationship with Facu lty. Internship program ends. Calendar reverts to semester plan. Algebra dropped; test for freshmen substituted. 225 32 $785,42 1 President Eisenhower speaks at dedication of Francis Scott Key Mem orial (Class of 1796) and Mellon Hall (May}; Paul Mellon and Mark Van Doren made Honorary Fellows. Curtis \Vilson becomes Dean. Special events: Founders' W eekend; Kirkpatrick concerts; Monteverdi's Otfeo; and lectures on "T11e Scit11tist as Philosopher" and ''Man and I lis W orld." 257 Board invited by citizens of Monterey Pen insula to consider second St. John's campus in that area of California. New laboratory revision begun. Faculty visit Reed College on Hazen Foundation grant. Board votes Feb. 22 to try to start second St. John's College in Santa Fe, after considering 40 sites. Legal authority for granting d egrees in New Mexico obtained. Second Ycar of French substituted for German. Analytical geometry introduced in sopl10more year and calculus moved to junior year. Reed professors "isit St. John's. 28 1957-1958 1958-1959 1959-1960 33 1960-1961 14 �October, 1974 IN RETROSPECT T utors and Students Developing Resources The P ublic and the College T.I.A.A. faculty retirement and collective life insurance programs adopted . Cift announced of $ 300,000 from Old Domin· ion Foundation for a new heating plant. Publication of about St. John's begun. Barbara Leonard appointed Assistant Dean for Women. Faculty opposes Ober flill, requiring loyalty ~XJths. Old Dominion Foundation offers to match up to $250,000 for plant a nd $1,000.000 for endowment. Weigle appointed to Board of Education of Anne Arundel County. First tenure appointments made under College Polity. Twenty.fonr women enroll in Class of 1955. I le;1ting plant dcdic:Jtcd "I fall I !umecoming. Randal l Ha ll remodeled to house women. Historic Annapolis, Tnc. founded in meeting in the Creal Hall. $3 00.000 Old Dom inion Foundation grant liquidates all indebtedness. Brice House sold. Association of Independent Colleges in Maryland formed for COOJ>Crative fund.raising. First St. John's Sem inar-in-Europe conducted. College contracts with U. S. Foreign Opera· tions Administration to orient foreign nationals from labor and other fields. St. John's Story, color-sound movie filmed dur· ing fall. Nadir in cnrollment-125. !'acuity >ldvisers instituted for freshmen. New faculty salaty scale adopted . New women's dormitory completed; named for Levin Hicks Campbell, Class of 1793 . Cam· pus master p htn adopted. EndoMncnt re-Jchcs \ Veigle made chaim1an of Commission on Lih· era! Education of Associat ion of American Colleges. ~ 1 ,000,000. James Tolbert l:>ecome.~illirector of Admissions. College joins Colk-ge Scholarship Service. Ynlk Tutorship established . C<mo ii·Bmistcr House (c. l il9) moved on campus from Main Street. 212 Norwood Road purchased for President's Residence. \Vciglc travels to l nd~1 for U. S. State Depart· ment lecture tour. \Vork begun on auditorium and laboratory buDding; financed by $750,000 from State and $1,250,000 from Old Dominion Foundation. 9 St. John's Street purchased for donuitory. Weigle elected President of Board of of /\nne i\nmdel County. Third Century Fund c:nupai&>Jl plamK-d for $6,600,000 in two-year period, 1958· 1960. Portrait of a Faculty and The Student Body published. System of 12-year ten ure appoinment~ begun. College joins College Entrance Examination Board. B~'(IUCSt of $1,787,120 from Addison Mullikin, Class of 1895. H umphreys Hall restored as dorm. State deeds fonucr rJilr!Xld land to College. Country Day School Headmasters Association meets on campus. Addison Mullikin Tutorship established; first appointments made. 'n1ircl Century Fund campaign ends with $4,· 698,000 raised. Book Store opens in Humphwys IIall. McDowell Hall renovated. Freshman Class of I 07 largest since 1934. Faculty salary scale adopted with $12,000 maxi· Edut~tion tnurn. Endowment reaches S6,000,000. S>tuta Fe citizens donate 260 acres a~ site for new campus. St. John 's International Labor Center doses after orienting 6,200 foreign visitors from 72 nntions. 15 I �The College Major Developments 1961-1962 293 Enrollment Faculty Budget 40 $1,051,243 T he Academic Program Master plan lor S.1nta Fe campus adoptt"<l by Board. Land given in Olnnel J1 ighlands for possible third c.1mpus. Richard Cleveland made llonorary Fellow. 1962-1963 313 li:nrolhnent Faculty Budget 43 C round broken for Santa Fe buildings on April 22. $1,467,362 raised in fir..t year. John Kieffer appointed Dean of the College. Prcccptorials introduced for juniors and seniors. ACCreditation reaffim1ed by Middle States Association will carry to Santa Fe campus for t"o years. Clarence Kramer n.1med Santa Fe Dean. ::\lusic tutorial shifted to sophomore year; b iology concentmt<'(l in sopl10more year; measurement and chemistry for freshmen. S.1nta Fe campus opens with 84 freshmen; Robcrt 0. Anderwn speal:s at October dedic:ttion; ~l:ooyl1nd and New Mexico Governors attend. Third quinquennial Polity Re-iew creates single histrnction Committee mecting :onnuall)• on alternate campuses. $1,139,874 1963-1961 319 Enrollment Faculty Budget 50 $1,248,387 1964-1965 Enrollments Faculty Budgets ASP- 321-84 46 - II $1,227,613 491,10\ 1965-1966 Enrolluol-nts Faculty - 341 . 148 Planning undertaken for summer Graduate Institute in Liberal Education at Santa Fe; Robert Goldwin named Director. 45 . 18 ASF- $1,377,856 834,959 Enrollmen ts Faculty Budget s ASF- 333- 168 46 · 27 $1,338,727 1,172,11 3 Enrollments Faculty Budgets ASF- 316. 170 46-28 $1,482,816 1,199,269 Enrollments Faculty Budgeb A- 323. 240 40-32 $1,507.491 Budget~ 1966-1967 1967-1968 1968-1 969 SF- 1,422,937 Joint Middle States and North Central Associ:t· lion Evaluating Team calls Santa Fe "complete second college" "A magnificent achie•ccmcnt.'' W rill en enabling exams lor sor,homores abandoned . Eight-week Graduate nstitute begins with 33 students (June) . First Santa Fe cbss of 34 seniors graduated February class of 19 freshmen admitted at An napolis; summer semester followed in Santa Fe. llucc·)'ear, one summer transfer prog<:~m to be tried provisionally. North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools aceredits Santa Fe campus for B.A. and M .A. degrees. Mrs. Walter Driscoll fir~t woman and first westerner to chair Hoard . William Darkey appoin ted Dean at Santa Fe. John Kieffer retires as Dean in Ann.1polis; Rob crt Goldwin appointed to succeed h im . Conversations about third c:ompus at Oak Ridge, Tennessee, end. Fourth quinquennial Polity reviC\\ creates provostship a t Annapolis, makes ~taff Associates within Faculty. 1969-1 970 368 . 262 49-33 $1,716,048 SF- 1,527,961 Enrollmen ts Faculty Budgets A- 1970-1971 Enrollments Faculty Budgets A- SF- 336 . 269 49 . 36 Paul e\vland appointed 6rst PrO\·ost a t An· napolis, J. Burchenal Ault first Vice-President at Santa Fe. $1,844,196 1,640,010 1971-1972 Enrollments Faculty Budgets A- 355-262 44 -36 27Sth AnnivctS:lry of found ing celebrated. Board membership increased to 48. John Mccm elected Honorary Fellow. Provisional three-rear, one-summer transfer program discontinued. SF- 52,034,453 1,780,570 Enrollments Faculty Budgets ASF- 375 . 260 51 . 40 $2,201 ,Q6) 1,939,790 Ma rks family d onates 760 acres between Salinas and Monterey for future Olbfornia campus. Santa foe admits first January ciJss. Ptlot Cradu ate Prcecptorial conducted by Charles Bell. Summer High School \Vorkshop instituted at Santa Fe. Enrollm'"lts Faculty Budgets ,, _ 369 . 256 54-44 $2,259,380 2,093,593 Annapolis accreditntioo reallinned by Middle States Association. 25th anniH.•rsary of Wci~;le presidency celebrated; administration building in Snntn Fe named for him. Curtis Wilson and Robert Neidorf become Deans at Annapolis and Santa Fe respecthely. Liberal Arts Task Force created under \Villiam D.ukcy, Director. 1972-1973 1973-1974 SF- 16 �October, 1974 Tutors nnd Students Developing Resources The Public and the College Five cxtm tutors :1ppointed to g.1 in experience in anticipation of nt'ed for faculty at Santa Master p lan for Annapolis campus commis· sioncd. Boat house rchnilt after fire (Octoher). 25th Anniversary of St. John's P rogr:tm marked hy p ub lication of Portrait of Graduates. Fe. Da\'id Boroff's article appears in Saturday Review (March) . Chase-Stone !-louse rebuilt at cost of $250,000. Architects retained to plan \Voodward Hall • ·enovation and addition. New contract with U. S. L1bor Deparhnent to run Center for o ne year. Planning begun for Dca•de of Development, fund -raising progr;1111 for botl1 campuses totaling $ 16,500,000 . Summer i'c:JCC Corps tmining program for India conducted at Annapolis Faculty colloquium held at St. 1Vt.1ry's College of C:1lifornia. C"rnegie Corporation of New York grants $161,000 for Graduate Institute. Tennis G'Ourts built :~t Santa Fe. \Vcstern Consolichltion Campaign begun. Peace Corps training held for Philippines (An· napol.is) and Latin Americ:J (Santa J!c ) . Santa Fe Dormitory complex for 126 women nncl llc tlth Ccntcr completed nt $920,000 cost. Q,•el'look and terrace behind McDowell Hall constructed. \Veigle elected chairman of t\ssociatiou of American Colleges, Vice C hairman of Independent College Funds of America . New lacultv SC<llc institut~d with $17.000 maxi· mum. Sant~ Fe admissions doubled; Southwt-st Scholars Progmm instituted . The Arthur Vin ing IY.lvis F'ound:1tions make gmnt of $200,000 to Santa Fe campus. 1~1bOm· tory building named for Tltomas M. Evans. Governor appoints \ Vci le C hairnlan, Maryland g Commission on the Capital City. F'irsl II l\-l.A.'s in G mduate Institute awarded . Renovation and enlargement of Woodward Ball completed nt cost of $600,000. Endowment rcacht-s $9,000,000. Board members pledge $2,400,000 in Western Consolicbtion Cam· paigu. Mrs. Duane Peterson pledges $1,250.000 for student center in Santa Fe as 275th Anniversary Fund pL1nned . Country Day School I lc tdm,tstcrs Associ;ttion nK-ets on Santa Fe campus. Puhlic.ttion of The College begun. Richard I Iammond Elliott Tutorship estab· lished; Robert Goldwin appointed to fill chair. Two seniors awarded 'Tit om as J. \• atson Fel· V lowships. 27Sth Anniversary Fund goals of $5,000,000 for Annapolis and $10,000,000 for Santa Fe set; Richard Cleveland, Pa ul Mellon. and 1\·l :uk Van Doren H onorary Co-Chairmen. Annapolis campus incl uded in Historic District. i\ndrcw \V. Mellon Tutorships {'teated. Pension plan adopl:ed for non-faculty personnel. Adm inistr:ttion building dedicated at Sant:t Fe. G round broken for Harrison llealth Center in Annapolis. Dean Goldwin lcacls TV paucl sem inars on G reat Books for Maryland Center for P ublic Broadcasting. Santa F'e campus included i11 11istoric Zone. National Endowment for Humanities apprO\'CS grant of $688, I 50. Los t\lamos Endowment Fund closed out to Stcrnberger-\ Vcis Music & Fine Arts Build ing dedicated at Santa Fe. Maryland General As· scmbly passes bill increasing state aid to indc. pendent colleges. Vv'eigle serves on panel for National Endowmen t for the H umanities. Admissions applications jump to 420. an in· crease of 60% over pre,·ious ycMs. Twelve-ye'<lr tenure appoint ments abandoned: full tenure appointment> restored. Leo St"tuss appointed first Scott Buchanan Di;tinguishcd Schol:lr-in. Residence. \ · itter Byn ner I louse becomes ofT-campus V dorm itory. Color film made of Santa Fe campus. First summa cum Iande dt'gree <llvarded on each ca mpus. New faculty salary sc1le instituted with range of $10,400 to $21,000. Senior woman awarded one of fifteen first llenry Luce F'c]]o,vships. I fivc-ve;~r l\·1ature studen t conduct impresses public d uring national Vietnam disorde1s. newly created St. John's Founruttion Endowment Fund. �ATTE1 T TON ALL ALUMNI: CALL FOR NOMI NATIONS In the spring of 1975 two openings will be crc;Jted for Alumni Representatives on the Board of Visitors and Governors, as Dr. Eugene Cozzolino '29 and John D . Oosterl10ut '51 come to the end of their terms. M r. Oosterhout, having served two consecutive three-year terms, is ineligible for reelection; Dr. Cozzol ino, curren tly in his first term, is eligible to serve ag;1 in. The directors of the Alumni Association, as required by the B yLaws, have been requested to nornin;lt·c at least one candidate for each forth-coming vacancy. In add ition, nominations may be made by written petition of at least 30 members of the Association, submitted to me in care of the Alumni Office in Annapolis. All nominations, whether by the direc tors or by petition, m ust be in my hands no later tllan December 6th. The names of the nominees, together with biogra phical information, will be published in t l1 c Ja nuary issue of this magazine. Bernard F. Gess ner P resident Alumn i Association The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, l\'larylancl, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, October 1974 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-10 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Description An account of the resource Volume XXVI, Number 3 of The College. Published in October 1974. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_26_No_3_1974 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf President's Report Presidents The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/47c7d2880fb965ed05483ff93cb363f4.pdf ac5e4e1967135b917b84372b9d6fd6d5 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico January 1975 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVI January, 1975 Number 4 l~-----------------------,--------------------------------------------1 ON THE COVER: Jacob Klein posed for his portrait about the time of his 75th birthday. Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm 'Vvatt, Robert S. Zelenka. · THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Director of College Relations. In Appreciation Mrs. Weigle and I should like to convey through The College our deep appreciation for the many honors accorded us upon our silver anniversary at St. John's College. No president and his lady could have experienced more heartwarming recognition than we did. We wish that we could respond with a personal letter of appreciation to each of the hundreds of congratulatory letters which we received. We trust that you will accept this collective acknowledgement instead. May we also express our thanks for the many greetings that have come to us over the holiday season. We did not send cards from the College this season but put the money into scholarship funds. To all our friends and colleagues we now send warm and affectionate greetings at the start of this New Year of 1975. Richard D. W eigJe President IN THE JANUARY ISSUE: Plato's Phaedo, by Jacob Klein 1 II Hommage ii Dietrich Buxtehude, by Robert Zelenka 12 l3 Campus-Alumni News 21 Alumni Election Picture Credits: Cover, Charles C. Post '74; page 21, Betty Lilienthal. The Ruin, a translation by Robert Zelenka Bach's Rhetoric, by Beate Ruhm von Oppen Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland and at other mailing places. 25 Robert S. Zelenka and Beate Ruhm von Oppen are tutors at St. John's, Annapolis. �Plato's Phaedo By Jacob Klein There is-as most of you probably know-what we call (in words derived from Latin and Greek) a legend or a myth or (in plain English) a tale according to which certain fabulous events occurred on the island of Crete and in Athens and between these two in the very ancient past. There are different versions of that complex story, but I shall limit myself to the following points. First: Minos, the king of Crete, has a wife, Pasiphae, and many children. Pasiphac falls in love with a wonderful white bull. The famous craftsman Daedalus helps her in a most ingenious way to satisfy her desires. She gives birth to the Minotaur, a monster with a bull' s head and a human body. The Minotaur's abode, constructed by Daedalus, is the Labyrinth, a large building consisting of numerous halls connected by intricate and tortuous passages. Secondly: one of the sons of Minos, Androgens, visits Athens. The king of Athens, Aegeus, fearing that Androgens might persuade his father Minos to support a revolt in Athens, arranges an ambush that leads to the death of Androgens. Many things happen after that. Finally Minos imposes a tribute on Athens: every ninth year the Athenians have to send seven young men and seven young wo.men to Crete as a prey for the Minotaur. Thirdly: when this tribute is due for the third time, the son of the Athenian king, Theseus, decides that he will go to Crete with those fourteen and will kill the Minotaur. He takes with him, as we can read in Plutarch's Lives, (Theseus XXIII, 2), not seven, but nine young men, two of them having fresh and girlish faces, but possessed of an eager and manly spirit. These two have to dress and walk as if they were women. As soon as Theseus and the fourteen arrive in Crete, one of the daughters of Minos, Ariadne, falls in love with Theseus. She gives Theseus a ball of thread which has to be tied with its loose end to the door of the Labyrinth and which rolls along with the walking Theseus until he reaches the Minotaur. Theseus, This is the text of a lecture given at St. John's College, Annapolis, on May 3, 1974. after killing the Minotaur, finds his way back through the tortuous Labyrinth by rolling up the thread again. Then Theseus and the fourteen go back to Athens. Theseus takes Ariadne with him, but leaves her on an island before reaching Athens. \Vhy do I tell you all this? Because the very beginning of Plato's dialogue entitled Phaedo refers to these fabulous events. The dialogue consists of a conversation held h Phlius, a city in the Peloponnese, between Echecrates, a citizen of Phlius, and Phaedo, who is not an Athenian either. Echecrates wants to know what Socrates said before he died and how he died. Echecrates has heard that a long time elapsed between the conviction of Socrates and his execution. He does not know why this was so, and Phaedo tells him why. The Athenians, he recounts, had made a vow to Apollo-so it is said-that they would send a mission every year to Apollo's temple in Delos, if Theseus and (58 a ll) "those twice seven" whom he took with him were saved. That's what the Athenians have done ever since. And (58 b 5-c I) "it is their law that, after the mission begins, the city must be pure and no one may be publicly executed until the ship has gone to Delos and back; and sometimes, when contrary winds detain it, this takes a long time." The ship had left on the day before the trial of Socrates (58 a and c). "That's why Socrates passed a long time in prison between his trial and his death" (58 c 4-5). Answering Echecrates's questions, Phaedo tells him which of Socrates' friends were with him on his last day. Watch, please, how Phaedo does that in the dialogue circumspectly and precisely (59 b-e). He says: "of natives [that is, of native Athenians] there was this Apollodorus [Phaedo had mentioned him just before] and Cristobulus and his father Crito and also Hermogenes and Epigenes and Aeschines and Antisthenes [these are seven], and Ctesippus of the deme of Paeania was there too, and Menexenus and some other natives [two more names are thus conspicuously added and some people that remain unnamed]." And Phaedo continues: "But Plato, I think, was ill." "Were any non-Athenians there?" asks Echecrates. And Phaedo replies: "Yes, Simmias of Thebes as well as I �The College Cebes and Phaedonides and from Megara Euclides and Terpsion" [that is to say, five]. To make sure that we realize the importance of all this naming, Plato, who was not there, makes Echecrates ask whether Aristippus and Cleombrotus were present. No, says Phaedo, they were not. Echecrates: "Was anyone else there?" Phaedo: "I think these were about all." It is thus established that fourteen people, whose names are given, namely nine Athenians and five uon-Athenians were present plus some unnamed Athenian men. Can we remain unaware of the fact that these correspond to the nine young men, the five young women and the crew that Theseus took with him on his voyage to Crete? The two young men who are conspicuously added in Phaedo' s report to the seven first named, namely Ctesippus and Menexenus, have indeed an eager and manly spirit, as we can see when reading Plato's dialogue entitled Lysis. But what about Phaedo, the non-Athenian, who supposedly was also present at the last day of Socrates? Well, let us hear what Phaedo says himself about his relation to Socrates. At one point, he says ( 89 b), Socrates "stroked my head and gathered the hair on the back of my neck into his hand-he had a habit of playing with my hair on occasion ...." And a little later on ( 89 c) he compares the relation between himself and Socrates with the relation between Iolaus and Heracles. Iolaus is the nephew, the charioteer, and the beloved comrade of Heracles. And let us not forget: the thread of Phaedo's narrative in the dialogue goes through a labyrinth of questions and arguments. Can we fail to see that Phaedo corresponds to Ariadne of the ancient tale? Can we remain unaware of the fact that the dialogue does not give a socalled "historical" account of Socrates' death, but gives a mythical presentation of that crucial event, which however is truer than the tale about Theseus and the Minotaur, accepted as true by the average Athenian? In the dialogue the new and true Theseus is Socrates and the old and true Minotaur is the monster called Fear of Death. But while the Minotaur was, according to Euripides (Plutarch's Lives, Theseus XV, 2), "a commingled look and a monstrous babe," in which "two different na.tures, bull and 2 man, were joined/' in Fear of Death an awesome pain of the soul, namely fear, is joined to death which is but a hobgoblin or a bugbear, as Cebes later in the dialogue (77 e) intimates. Let us not forget for a moment that the dialogue is a 8pup.a presenting a Platonic myth. Athenaeus, a writer of the second century A.D., who today would be called a "literary critic," composed a lengthy work named "The Sophists at Dinner," the content of which is ·mostly inimical gossip. But it is worth noting that Athenaeus makes Phaedo state (XI, 505 e) that he never said or heard what he is supposed to have said or heard in the dialogue named after him. Indeed, what is happening in the dialogue is invented by Plato. It is thus that Plato makes us see Socrates' struggle with the Fear of Death. How does he do that? Let us watch. I. When Socrates' friends enter the room in the prison, where Socrates had been staying all the time, they find him just released from his fetters and his wife Xanthippe sitting with one of their little sons beside him. Xanthippe is crying and Socrates asks Crito to let somebody take her home. Socrates sits up on his couch, bends his leg and rubs it with his hand. The Greek work which I translated with the word "bend" is crvyKap,rr-rew. It can be used to describe the bent position of a foetus in the womb. Since Socrates' rubbing of his leg gives him some pleasure, he contrasts this pleasure with the pain that the fetters had produced and goes on-calmly and playfully-to imagine how Aesop could have composed a fable about pleasure and pain fastened together by their heads so that they could never be completely separated. Phaedo had mentioned before that he had been overcome by a strange mixture of pain and of pleasure at the thought of Socrates' impending death and at the anticipation of the thoughtful and exciting discussion that was bound to occur in the prison, as it had occurred on previous days. Socrates' mentioning of Aesop reminds Cebes of what Socrates had been doing in his prison days, namely putting Aesop's fables into verse and composing a song to Apollo. Cebes asks why Socrates, who had never done that kind of thing before, �January, 1975 should be doing that now. The poet Evenus had asked Cebes this question a few days previously. Socrates answers that he kept having dreams in his former life in which he was always told the same thing: "engage in the Muses' art and work at it" (P-ovmK~v 1rotn Kat EpyUCou). He had been interpreting this saying as encouraging him to do what he always had been doing, namely philosophizing, since he understood philosophy to be the greatest art of the Muses. Now, however, while the festival of Apollo delayed his execution, he considered the possibility that the dream might have meant what is usually understood to be the Muses' art (!'ovmx~) and he decided not to disobey the dream, but to compose verses. And Phaedo makes Socrates say that ·not being a poet, that is, a man who invents myths, he turned to the fables of Aesop and put the first ones he carne upon into verse. Can we forget the many myths that Plato makes Socrates invent in his dialogues? Socrates concludes his answer by begging Cebes to bid Evenus farewell and to tell him that he should follow Socrates as quickly as he can. Simmias intervenes and claims that Evenus certainly would not take Socrates' advice. Whereupon Socrates: "Is not Evenus a philosopher?" "I think so," says Simmias. Then Evenus will be willing to do so, says Socrates, as any one would be who has a worthy share in philosophy. But Socrates adds something to this statement, and while doing that puts his feet down on the ground. What he adds is this: "Perhaps he [that is, Even us] will not take his own life, for they say that is not permitted." The ensuing conversation is about this addition. How can Socrates claim that philosophers desire to die, while asserting at the same time that it is not permitted to take one's own life? T11is assertion refers to what Philolaus-and also other people-have been saying. It is necessary at this point to note that the background of the entire dialogue is "Pythagorean" and "orphic." A Pythagorean brotherhood is known to have resided in Phlius, where Phaedo talks to Echecrates. Philolaus is the founder of a similar brotherhood in Thebes, to which Cebes and Simmias apparently belonged. The assertion that it is not permitted to take one's own life is-as Socrates intimates (62 b)-a part of an esoteric doctrine of the Pythagoreans, according to which men live in a kind of enclosure, namely the body, and ought not to set themselves free and run awav. And in the light of this doctrine Phaedo makes Socrates claim that men are one of the chattels of the gods, who are their guardians, and that the gods would be angry if a man escaped by killing himself. This claim of Socrates forces Cebes and Simmias to wonder why Socrates is so much willing to leave them and the gods by wishing to die. This wonder amounts to an accusation, and Socrates declares that he has to defend himself as if he were in a court of law. What follows can, therefore, be called Socrates' "Defense," an d1roAoy£a indeed, unlike his alleged "defense" in the dialogue called in a dissembling way "Apology." Before beginning his defense, Phaedo narrates, Socrates has to listen to Crito, the point being that the man who will administer the poison has asked Crito to warn Socrates to talk as little as possible, lest the effects of the poison be diminished so that it would have to be administered again and again. Socrates does not pay any attention to this warning and proceeds to his lengthy defense. It consists in claiming that a lover of wisdom, a "philosopher," in pursuing philosophy practises nothing but dying and being dead ( 64 a). Simmias can't help laughingthough reluctantly-, because he thinks of the many in Thebes who would also say what Socrates just said and would add to it that the philosophers do indeed deserve nothing but death. They would be right, says Socrates, although they would not understand their own saying. What the philosopher wants above all is to let the soul alone, itself by itself, consider that which truly is, without being troubled by the body, the bodily sensing, the bodily desires and fears, the bodily pleasures and pains. What truly is cannot be seen or heard or sensed in any way. Now, since death is the separation of the soul from the body, as Phaedo makes Socrates say ( 64 c, 66 e-67 a), the philosophers must obviously desire death, that is, the complete purification of the soul. And Phaedo makes Socrates refer to orphic sayings according to which the thyrsus-bearers 3 �The College are many, but the initiated and purified are few, and only these few will dwell "over there" with the gods. This is the gist of Socrates' "defense." II. Quite naturally the question arises whether the soul, when it leaves the body, still exists. Does it not perish altogether? That is the question Cebes immediately raises, and this is the way Socrates answers it, according to Phaedo's narrative. There is an ancient argument, an "orphic" one, we have to understand, that we go there from here and come back here again and thus are born from the dead (70 c). If this is so, our soul must exist there. And Socrates proceeds, according to Phaedo, to show in a detailed way how that argument might be true. He invites Cebes to consider that in this visible world of ours everything, if there is something opposite to it, inevitably comes into being from this opposite. He cites examples: the greater becomes greater after having been smaller and vice versa, the weaker is generated from the stronger and vice versa, the slower from the quicker, the worse from the better, the more just from the more unjust, being cooler from being hotter, being awake from being asleep, and so on, and so on. The opposite of living is being dead. It follows that all living things, and that means also all living people, are generated from the dead. Then, Socrates concludes, our souls do exist in Hades, and there is such a thing as "coming to life again" ( avaf3u:OuwrBa,-7! e-72 a). If that were not so, all things would be swallowed up in death. III. We may have some doubts about the soundness of this orphic argument, as Cebes apparently has; for he reminds Socrates of another way to show the pre-existence of our souls. As Socrates so often says (we have to assume not only in Platonic dialogues), learning is nothing else but recollection (aval'v~u«), and that implies that the soul must already have existed somewhere before it came into being in human bodies, so that in this way also the soul appears to be deathless. Simmias wants to learn-that is, to recollect-more about this argument, and Socrates goes 4 on showing-again in a most detailed way-the different cases of recollecting which we experience, up to the case of recollecting equality itself (74 a ff.). What is important about this case is that we can never see, never sense "equality itself." We perceive through our senses equal things, stones or pieces of wood, for example. We realize, however, that the equality of two visibly equal things is a deficient one: these things may appear to one mini equal and to another unequal. To be able to recognize this deficiency means that we must have previously known perfect equality. And it is this previous, but forgotten knowledge that we recollect when, in perceiving visibly equal things, we realize that their equality is merely an approximation, a copy, an uimage" of perfect equality, of "the equal itself." We must have acquired that knowledge of perfect equality, Socrates submits (75 c), before we were born. And that applies not only to equality, but to any intelligibile entity, on which we put the seal of "its being what it is'' (aVrO 0 £(J'n). Thus there is the same necessity for our soul to exist before our birth and for all intelligibles, all vo~ra, to have being. We have to note that the necessity of asserting the soul's pre-existence is understood here, in the dialogue, to depend on the presupposed being of the intelligibles, the vo71 rU, the £l87J, the "invisible looks." Simmias and Cebes now agree that the soul must have existed before our birth. But what has not been proved, they both assert, is that the soul also exists after we are dead. Socrates claims that that proof had already been given, referring to the previous orphic argument that every living being is born from the dead. Must not the soul exist after we die, since it must be born again? But Socrates also agrees that the discussion has to proceed. There is some jesting about the possibility that the soul might be blown away by a high wind after we die, and Cebes says that there is perhaps a child within us who has such a fear. This is the moment when he mentions the need to persuade that child "not to fear death as if it were a hobgoblin." What is required for that child, says Socrates playfully and truthfully, are daily incantations until that fear is charmed away (77 e). And the struggle with Fear of Death continues. �January, 1975 IV. The emphasis is now on the distinction between what is compounded and what is uncompounded. The compounded is liable to be decomposed which cannot be said of the uncompounded. That which is uniquely "itself by itself," like "Equality itself," "Beauty itself," "Being itself," "Man himself," "Horse itself," is uncompounded and always the same, while there are things like men, horses, cloaks, that are constantly changing. What is mentioned first, the ,18~, the "looks" are only reachable in thought, are invisible, while what is mentioned later is perceived by our senses, is visible. And Socrates asks Cebes forcefully ( 79 a) : "Are you willing then to posit two kinds of beings, one visible, the other invisible (diS!,)?" Cebes is willing. He is willing to admit that the visible is constantly changing and that the invisible is always the same. It is clear to him that the body belongs to the visible and the soul to the invisible. He has to agree that when the soul makes use of the body for any inquiry, that is, makes use of the senses, it is dragged to the things which never remain the same, but when the soul inquires alone by itself, it departs into the realm of the pure, the everlasting, the deathless and the changeless (79 d). And Cebes also agrees that, when a man dies, the soul, the invisible (diS!,) goes to a place which is, like itself, noble and pure and invisible, goes to the true Hades ("'A<Z~<), to the good and wise god. And Socrates concludes that the soul departs in purity, if it never associated itself with the body in life but gathered itself into itself alone, that is to say, philosophized in the right way and willingly practised dying. If it did that, it will be happy in Hades and henceforward live there, as the initiated say, truly with the gods. Socrates continues in this pythagorean-orphic vein, describing what happens to the soul of a man devoted to bodily desires and pleasures after this man dies. His soul is dragged back to the visible world, through fear of the diU, and of "'AtS~,, flits about monuments and tombs, passes into the body of an ass or a wolf or of a hawk or of a kite. The souls of better men, who by habit and practice, without philosophy and true understanding, have lived moderately and justly, pass into the bodies of bees or wasps or ants or of men again. It is only true philosophizing that attempts to free the soul from the prison of the body, from the bondage to pleasure and pain. Only a soul nurtured in this way is not going to fear that it will be destroyed at its departure from the body and vanish into nothingness (80 d-84 b). The soul is entirely indissoluble, "or nearly so" (80 b 10: " ' Tt TOVTOV ) • ' 1] . ~£yyv'> V. There is a long silence after Socrates' speech. But finally Socrates addresses Cebes and Simmias, who had talked to each other, and asks them whether they had any doubts about what had been said. Simmias confirms that they are doubtful, have questions to ask, but hesitate to trouble Socrates in his last hours. Socrates laughs gently, Phaedo narrates, compares himself to the swans that sing most and best when they feel that they are about to die, and urges Simmias and Cebes to speak up and to ask whatever questions they have. Simmias and Cebes comply. The question of Simmias is this: is not what Socrates had said about the body and the soul comparable to what could be said about the well attuned strings of a lyre. and the concord of sounds produced by those strings? If the lyre is destroyed, could it be claimed that the concord will still exist? The question of Cebes is this: granted that the soul survives when a man dies and even wears out many bodies, might it not finally perish altogether in one of its deaths? These questions, as narrated by Phaedo, are asked in a most serious and circumstantial way. Not only are all the people, who are said to surround Socrates, deeply troubled, but this is also true of Echecrates, Phaedo's interlocutor. It is not unimportant to note what Phaedo has to say at this point. What astonished him most, he says, was "first, the pleasant, kind and respectful manner in which he [Socrates] accepted the arguments of the young men, secondly, his quick sense of the effect their words had upon us, and finally, how well he cured us ...." ( 89 a). This is the moment when Socrates' habit of playing with Phaedo's hair is mentioned by Phaedo. Socrates is doing that right now, while telling Phaedo to cut his beautiful 5 �The College hair-not the next day, but this very day, as Socrates will also do, if his argument dies and cannot be brought to life again. This is the moment when Iolaus's relation to Heracles is compared to that of Phaedo to Socrates. But this is also the moment when Socrates launches into a lengthy discussion about the danger of becoming misologists, haters of argument, and of believing that there is no soundness in arguments at all (89 c-91 c). Let us note that this discussion is at the very middle of Phaedo's narrative. We have to infer that nothing is more important to Socrates than to keep arguing about a difficult question, never to despair, never to give up the hope of reaching a final and sound conclusion. And after finishing the discussion about misology Socrates takes up the question raised by both Simmias and Cebes. VI. The doubts and fears of Simmias that the soul may perish first, being a kind of concord, are dealt with by Socrates first. (Let me remark parenthetically that the word "concord" translates the Greek word Opp,ovla, which it is wrong to translate by the English word "harmony.") Socrates makes sure that Simmias accepts, as Cebes does too, the argument according to which learning is recollection and that, therefore, he also agrees that the soul must have existed somewhere before it was imprisoned in the body. But a concord of sounds cannot exist before the lyre and its strings come into being. The concord of sounds is the last to come into being. There is no consonance then between the recollection argument and the argument that the soul might be something like a concord of sounds. Simmias is ready to yield. But Socrates goes on demolishing the concord thesis by reasons which are quite independent of the recollection argument. He shows that concords of sounds can be more or less concordant, while souls cannot be more or less souls. On the other hand, a soul may possess sense and virtue and be good, while another soul may be foolish and wicked. Those who claim that the soul is comparable to a concord of sounds will have to claim that the virtue of a soul is another concord and the wickedness of a soul is a discord of a concord. Or, to 6 say it better, if the soul is a concord, it cannot be discordant, cannot be wicked at all. And finally Socrates points to our experience that the soul, if it is thoughtful, rules over its desires and passions and fears, which it could not do if it were like a concord, since that which is concordant depends on its concordant parts and does not rule over them. Does not Homer say of Odysseus (Odyssey XX, 17 f.) : "He smote his breast, and thus rebuked his ~heart: endure, my heart; a worse thing even than this didst thou once endure"? Phaedo makes Socrates say judiciously and probably smilingly that Homer could not have said that, if he had thought of the soul as a concord. This is how the concord theme of Simmias, the Theban, is brought to an end. And Socrates proceeds to meet the doubt of the other Theban, Cebes. Before doing that he appeals, solemnly and playfully, to the graces of the Theban goddess Harmonia, who is the daughter of Ares and Aphrodite, as well as to the graces of Cadmus, who is Harmonia's husband and who, according to the legend, killed that great serpent, out of whose teeth armed men sprang up, clashing their weapons together. VII. To meet the doubt of Cebes is the most difficult task Socrates faces. According to Phaedo, you will remember, Cebes had insisted on the possibility that the soul, after wearing out many bodies, might finally perish altogether. In doing that, he had, in fact, relied on Socrates' own saying that the soul is entirely indissoluble "or nearly so." What can the phrase "nearly so" mean but final dissolution! Socrates pauses for a while, considering something deeply by himself. And then the struggle with Fear of Death reaches its height. Socrates has to show why the soul can never die. Before doing this, he has to make clear the meaning of the word "why." The question "why" comes up whenever we are unable to understand something in our immediate experience. We are asking what is "responsible" for this something, what "causes" it. A crucial distinction is made by Socrates (99 a-b): "One thing is what is truly responsible [for something], another thing is that without which �January, 1975 what is responsible could not possibly become [effectively] responsible." To be unable to make that distinction is a sign of "profound sluggishness" in speaking and thinking. To say, for example, the causes of Socrates' sitting in the prison on his couch with his feet on the ground are these that his body is composed of bones and sinews and that the bones hang loose in their ligaments while the sinews, by relaxing and contracting, make him bend his limbs,-to say that is to fail to mention the true causes of Socrates' sitting in the prison room, namely that the Athenians decided that it was best to condemn him and that he decided that it was right for him to stay and undergo whatever penalty they would order (98 c-e). The confusion about the meaning of "cause" (alTla) leads to that special wisdom known by the name of "inquiry about nature '1r£p'i cpVu£w'> i.!TTopla-96 a 8). In his youth, Socrates reports in Phaedo's narrative, he wanted very much to find out, with regard to any single thing or occurrence, what was responsible for its coming into being, its passing away, its being the way it was (96 a). But he could not find any satisfactory answers. Nor could he learn them from any· body else, not even from the great Anaxagoras. The cause of this inability was precisely the confusion about the meaning of "cause." Socrates had to embark upon a different journey, his "next best try," which means he had to take to the oars, since the wind had failed, and seek to find out in a better way "why" things are as they are. He had to "take refuge in the spoken word" (99 e 5), in exchanging questions and answers with himself and with others and in them search for the truth of things. . Socrates gives the following outline of the way he now proceeds. On each occasion he chooses as a supposition (an t,.68'"") the most reliable statement which would make us understand what remains obscure and concealed in our immediate experience. Whatever appears to be consonant with that statement is to be posited as genuinely true, and that applies especially to what is being said about the "cause" of something; whatever does not conform to the statement is to be taken as untrue. Cebes does not quite follow. He is not saying anything 11 ( new, Socrates explains, but rather what he has never stopped saying, at other times as well as in the preceding discussion. And now again he is going to revert to those much babbled-about words and make them his starting point, his initial supposition being that there is something named "itself by itself beautiful" and also something "itself by itself good" and something "itself by itself big" and all the rest. Consonant with this statement is a further one of the following type: if there be anything beautiful besides Beauty itself, it will be beautiful for no other reason than that it shares in, or partakes of, Beauty itself. It is this kind of cause which is responsible for things being beautifnl, which "makes" them beantiful. Statements of this type provide the safest answer to the qnestion: "why" are things as they are? In a dissembling and yet truthful way Socrates characterizes this way of understanding why things are as they are as "simple," "artless," and "perhaps foolish." His answer, with all its safety, is a simple-minded, "nnlearned" one, as he later adds. Its safety is based entirely on the reliability of the underlying statement that the "intelligibles," the vo~T&, have being. Everybody present-and also Echecrates who listens to Phaedo's storyagrees. And then Socrates proceeds to show why the soul can never die. The "demonstration" he offers, according to Phaedo's narrative, resembles indeed a most intricate maze. It is ultimately based, first, on the underlying and most reliable statement that each of the intelligibles, each of the ,18~ is something which has being; secondly, on its corollary that everything else, by "sharing in" those ,18~, derives its name from them; and thirdly, on the kindred corollary that this sharing in the various ,za~ can be safely understood as the "cause" for everything being as it is. Socrates takes care to remark that the two. ways of pro· ceeding in all this, the one towards consequences which spring from the safe supposition and the other towards the very source of the safe supposition, the way downwards and the way upwards, should not be mixed up. But we cannot fail to observe that in Phaedo's narrative these two ways do get mixed up. It is noteworthy, for instance, that 7 �The College what remains shrouded in darkness is whether the way to the true Hades" is downwards or upwards. A long series of examples of true causation is presented by Socrates. I shall mention only a few. A man is big, and is called big and not small, because of his sharing in Big11 ness or, as we may say, because Bigness is "in" him; a body is hot, and is called hot, and not cold, because it contains Heat; a body is sick, and is called sick and not healthy, because Sickness is in" it; a number of things is odd, and is called odd and not even, because these things share in Oddness. And now Socrates adds: a hot body may cool off 11 and then again become hot, but the Heat "in" it can never become cold nor the Cold "in" it ever become bot. For Heat and Cold, just as Bigness and Smallness are by themselves incompatible with each other. Somebody among those present interjects full of surprise: what is being said now is opposite to what was said before about opposites, to wit, that the greater is generated from the less and the less from the greater, and that is simply the way opposites are generated, namely from opposites. And now it is being said that that can never happen! Socrates listens attentively and then explains: what was said before was said about visible things in this visible world of ours, but now the talk is about intelligibles, about the opposites as they are in themselves, about the ,ra~ like Bigness itself, Heat itself, Sickness itself, Oddness itself. But at this point Socrates begins to complicate his simple-minded account of how causation has to be understood by another safe and "more ingenious" ( 105 c 2) way of answering the question why things are as they are. VIII. A body is hot not only because of the Heat "in" it, but also because of fire; a body is sick not only because of Sickness "in" it, but also because of fever; a number of things will be an odd number of things not only because of Oddness "in" it, but also because of the unit which makes an odd number odd; and soul is going to join the rank of these new entities as a cause of life. What characterizes these new entities? First, their names are entirely 8 different from the names of what they are causes of: firehot, fever-sick, unit-odd, soul-life; secondly, these entities are not intelligibles, are not El81J. "Fire" and "fever" have an elemental character. The mode of being of "unit" is highly debatable. And even more so is the mode of being of "soul." Up to this moment in Phaedo's narrative what characterized the soul was its thoughtfulness, its ¢p6V>Ju«, its ability to deal with intelligibles, the vo~ra, the ,ra~, its power to think, to learn, to recollect. Socrates proposes to Cebes twice that they determine what sort of entities these newly introduced ones are. What is said of them is this: the new entities, while not accepting one of two opposites, "bring up" the other opposite and impose it on what they approach. Thus Cebes, imitating Socrates' "more ingenious" way, claims that soul, lfrux~. entering a body, will make it a living body {(Olv). The simple-minded account would have been that Life (Cw~) does that. The account of Cebes follows the pattern set by Socrates: the opposite of Life is Death (105 d 6-9); soul ( ofvx~), by itself not "opposed" to Death, "brings up" Death's opposite, Life (105 d 10-11 ), brings Life to whatever it "occupies"; and since, in analogy to Socrates' examples, "soul" does not <~accept" Life's opposite, does not "accept" Death, "soul" cannot be touched by Death; the soul, therefore, will never "die." The demonstration seems to have reached its end. But Socrates immediately presents the difficulty which is bound to come up. The entities, the "sharing" in which is responsible for certain features of the visible world (ac· cording to the simple-minded and the new account) -as well as those sensible features themselves-carry, by virtue of their not "accepting" one of the opposites in question, a negative appellation, for instance, "not-even" ( &.v&pnov), "not-just" ( U8tKOJJ)' "deathless" ( ao&varov). But these nega- tives do not tell whether that which they signify "departs" or vanishes altogether whenever the negated opposite approaches. This alternative is mentioned in Phaedo's narrative repeatedly and well in advance of the final conclusion: the one opposite either escapes, retires, withdraws, goes away or perishes at the approach of the other �January, 1975 opposite. Could not the same be true of "soul"? That is Socrates' query. As something to which the appeiiation "deathless" applies, it might nevertheless share this same fate: it could be "extinguished" and perish at the approach of Death. It would be a "living" soul only as long as it exists in a body and no longer. The demonstration, with which Cebes was satisfied (105 e 9), amounts to nothing if one considers that possibility. It is Cebes who dismisses it. He asks: does not the deathless mean that which never dies? And must not that which never dies exist forever? If the "deathless" were subject to destruction, Cebes exclaims in an orphic vein, could there be anything else that would escape it! Whereupon Socrates (106 d 5-7): "The god, at least, life itself by itself (avril ,.;; r~< Cw~< e18o<), and if there be anything else 'deathless' -that these never perish might, I think, be agreed upon by ail." There is as much ambiguity as solemnity in these words. Cebes catches the irony and chimes in (106 d 8-9): "By ail men, to be sure, Zeus knows, and even more so by the gods as I, for my part, suppose." But Socrates and Cebes do agree on this: since "soul" does not "accept" Death and if thus the soul is indeed deathless, there could be no alternative to its being indestructible; when Death approaches man, what is mortal about him dies, while what is "deathless," retiring before Death, departs safe and unimpaired ( 106 e 7). "Soul, then, Cebes," Socrates concludes in Phaedo's narrative, "is more than anything deathless and indestructible, and our souls will truly be in Hades" (106 e 9-107 a 1). Let us note that what the word "soul" now means remains unstated. Nor are we told what kind of place "Hades" is. IX. Cebes and Simmias are satisfied. But Simmias feels bound to make a reservation: considering the human weakness (~ &v8pwrdv~ &aOivE!a-107 b 1) as against the magnitude of the subject under discussion, he for one cannot completely trust the argument. Socrates fuiiy approves of Simmias's stand and even extends the distrust ( d,na,.[a) to the very first suppositions underlying the entire argument. The inconclusiveness of the "demonstration" hinges on Cebes's imitating Socrates' "more ingenious" accounts. The assertion that sharing in "soul," in tfvx~, is responsible for Life, tw0, in a body, that "soul" is thus ~~life-bringing/' is rooted in the common identification of "living being" and <~animate being," of tWo'' and Jp.fvxov. The emphasis in the preceding discussion lay on the kinship between soul and the inteiiigible. What characterized soul was .pp6v~""• thoughtfulness, and ail that this entails. Cebes's "imitating" answer gives .Pvx.~ a radicaiiy different meaning, relating it not to cppOV'rJrn<>, but to ' living," to t~v. The indestructibility of this soul, as the exchange between Cebes and Socrates shows, and as Simmias confirms, is far from certain. Does ail this mean that the argument, intended to cast away Cebes's doubt and built up with so much care and circumspection, does not fulfiii its task? Taken by itself, it fails indeed. But had not Socrates said (77 e 8-9), playfully and truthfully, that daily incantations are required to charm the fear of death away? Are not all the arguments of the dialogue a series of such incantations? But will they not, and necessarily so, remain ineffective unless supported by evidence more powerful than the evidence they are able to supply by themselves? This supporting evidence is there, in the very 3piipa presented by Phaedo. We witness Socrates' behavior during the long hours before he drinks the draught. For it is not only the content of the arguments, their cogency and insufficiency, that mark the struggle with Fear of Death, it is also, and more so, the adult sobriety, the serenity in gravity and jest, imposed by Socrates on the conversation. The final story Socrates is telling, according to Phaedo's narrative, shows perhaps more than anything else Socrates' imperturbable calm. He reverts to the kind of journey he claims to have undertaken in his youth. He describes our earth, not as we see it, bnt as it would appear to us if we were looking at it from above and from within. The story, a long and complex one, is told in complete tranquility and-we have to assumewith recurrent smiles. It presents not so much an "inquiry about nature" ( ?T£P~ cf.rV(T£W<> hrropla) as an "inquiry about the soul" ("'P' >/fvx~' 1arop!a). It tells what happens to the 4 9 �The College souls of men after death. Socrates does not pretend that his story is a true one, and that's why he probably keeps smiling: "it would not be fitting for a man of sense to maintain that all this is just as I have described it" ( 114 d l-2). But since the soul appears to be deathless, a man of sense should take the risk to accept a tale like the one Socrates was telling. "For it is a noble risk" (114 d 6). And one should continue to charm oneself in this very way. X. After finishing this story, Phaedo reports, Socrates is about to go to take a bath. Crito intervenes again. He asks what Socrates wants his friends to do about his children and about anything else, notably his burial. He has nothing to say about all that, says Socrates and, quietly laughing, he explains to his friends that it is difficult to persuade Crito that burying the body, which will remain when he, Socrates, is gone, has nothing to do with him. He will have departed. He then goes into another room to bathe. When he returns, his three children and the women of his family appear. He talks with them, gives them his advice, and then tells them to leave. The sun is setting, the drinking of the poison is near. Phaedo reports a touching scene between Socrates and one of the wardens of the prison. Socrates demands that the poison be brought to him. Crito tries to persuade Socrates to wait a little longer. Socrates says that that would be ridiculous. The poison is brought in a cup. Socrates is told to drink and then to walk till his legs feel heavy. Socrates asks whether he should not pour a libation to a deitv. It is hard not to sense the irony of this question. Socrates is told that there is not enough 10 for that in the cup. Socrates prays that his departure from here to there be a fortunate one. And he drinks the poison coolly and calmly. An outburst of fierce emotions and of tears and of wailing among Socrates' friends follows. Socrates says to them: "keep quiet and be steadfast" ( 117 e 2). He lies down on his back, and the man who administered the poison as well as Socrates' friends watch death approaching. Uncovering his face, which had been covered, Socrates says to Crito: "We owe a cock to Asclepius; pay this debt and do not neglect it" ( 118 a 7-8). These are his last words. To sacrifice to Asclepius, the healing god, means to thank him for one's recovery from a disease. Socrates' last words imply that he is recovering from the most disastrous disease, the one that imprisons his soul in his body. He is recovering from this disease because his soul is leaving its prison. Crito closes Socrates' mouth and eyes. And Phaedo ends his narrative by telling Echecrates that this was the end of the best, of the most thoughtful and most just man of his time. What shall we conclude from all that we have heard? Three things. First, in the struggle we have been witnessing, Socrates, the true Theseus, annihilates the true Minotaur, the Fear of Death. Secondly, it remains completely uncertain whether Socrates' soul is now in the true Hades, the realm of the invisible looks. Thirdly, it is certain that Plato, through Phaedo's narrative, has made Socrates live forever-or, to be as cautious as possible, has made Socrates live as long as people will be able to read what Plato wrote. �January, 1975 THE RUIN Wallstone remains, wondrous, broken, alien; The city fell, the work of giants crumbled Roofs are caved in, the towers are in ruin, The gates are torn open. Ice crusts the mortar. Stormfences are cut down, scored, etched and eaten, Undermined by age. The earth holds in its grasp Wielder and maker. Weary, worn out, they died, All strength gone. Now a hundred generations Of men have passed •and vanished. Once this wall stood Streaked red and grey, while kingdom after kingdom Withstood endless storms. At last the high arch fell. There remain . . . rubble . . . heaps of stone . . . shards . . . fragments. Even the earthrind sank. A man of cunning, Skilled in met•als, bound the wall in wire rings, Wove stone and wire splendidly together. Fortresses were bright; there were many houses, High gabled, filled with the sound of warriors. There were many meadhalls, filled with human joys, Until wyrd brought change: This was a time of plague, When death took all men; even the strongest fell Ramparts became desolate, foundations waste. The high citadel crumbled. One after one, Those who would rebuild fell lifeless to the ground. Therefore these courtyards are grim places. Roof tiles, Red and curved, 1ie scattered about; the crossbeam [s shattered. Destruction fills this world. Once men Were glad in heart and bright with gold. In splendor, Proud, and flushed with wine, their armor gleaming, they Looked on the treasures gathered here: on silver, On art-wrought gems, on riches, on precious stones, And on this city, the seat of wide empire. Stone buildings stood. Water flowed in hot from wells, Steaming from the depths; there were bath houses, hearths Kept warm in winter. A strong wall enclosed all [n safety. That was a proper place for men. So it is ... that is a kingly thing... city... Anonymous-Seventh Century A.D. (A translation from Anglo-Saxon by RobertS. Zelenka) 11 �The College Hommage a Dietrich Buxtehude There is in ancient music peace; Beyond, the fragments of a world. ,~:&b ~. r;;o The sea returns against the sand in wavewake murmuring; Along the low strand Tide mark, out to the far thrown jetty, The night brings driftwood, remnants of a flood Distant from here, salt grey, to be rendered smooth And featureless in time. VioLino diAmurc The sea reflects itself at dawn, an image of the sky. Along the still, cold Edge of land I walk, hearing my steps Measure the movement and hear nothing else. I stare out into the growing light and see The sun and see no thing. -RobertS. Zelenka 12 �January, 1975 Bach's Rhetoric by Beate Ruhm von Oppen Those of you who have read Albert Schweitzer's great book on Bach may remember the genesis of it from the preface by Charles Widor. He describes how he, Widor, told Schweitzer one day when they were playing the chorale preludes that though he could easily see the logic of Bach in his preludes and fugues, he found much obscurity in his treatment of chorale melodies. Why these excessive contrasts of moods? Why the use of contrapuntal motifs that bore no relation to the mood of a hymn tune? Young Schweitzer told the master that all this became clear from the texts. Widor told him which pieces had puzzled him most. Schweitzer told him the texts by heart, and translated them into French on the spot. The riddles were solved. The two then spent afternoons going through all the chorale preludes and Schweitzer showed Widor, as Widor says in his preface, a Bach whom he had only very dimly divined before. He then asked young Schweitzer to write an essay on the chorale preludes for French organists. Schweitzer soon found that he had to include the cantatas and passions, to explain things. And that was the beginning of his book on Johann Sebastian Bach, the musicien-poete, or musician-poet, as he called him. The man who was to have spoken here tonight,' Nicholas Nabokov, once said to Mr. Klein, many years ago, that Bach's texts do not matter, that they did not matter to Bach. In proof he mentioned the fact that Bach often re-used music with a new text that had previously been composed for another text. I am here to refute that view and I propose to address myself not only to that 1 This is the slightly adapted text of a lecture delivered at St. John's, Annapolis, on 27 October 1972, as part of a quartet of musical lectures which also included Mrs. Allanbrook's lecture on "Dance, Gesture, and The Marriage at Figaro" printed in the spring, 1974, issue. Others were by Mr. Allanbrook, who dealt with keyboard music, and Virgil Thompson, who spoke on words and music in a way strongly suggestive of agreement with Nabokov, with hilarious illustrations from Handel but only a fleeting reference to Bach. It may be odd for the work of an editor to appear in a journal. But there was a gap that needed filling, and the editorial board, not the editor, made the decision to fill it with "Bach's Rhetoric." objection to taking Bach's texts seriously, but to other objections too: that the declamation is often not the declamation such texts would have were they read or spoken, even in a heightened form; that often they are submerged in the music, inaudible or unintelligible; and that some of the texts, some non-biblical texts his librettists served up to him, were uninspired, weird, or in doubtful taste. Let me dispose of this last point straightaway and say that I am not unduly impressed or depressed by it. Tastes have changed since Bach's day and some of the conceits, some banking or cooking or medical metaphors in a few of the texts may strike us as odd-as may some of the loving, almost amorous exchanges between the soul and the savior in others. But one can live with such oddities and they are neither numerous nor important. What is important is Bach's musical treatment of them. And I for one am against editing them out, as some people, even Albert Schweitzer, have suggested. Though Bach could do wonders with almost any text, he was, it seems to me, at his best when setting and interpreting the Bible. Indeed I would not call him a fifth evangelist, as has been the fashion for some decades now, but a church father, an interpreter, an exegete of Holy Scripture. I could now proceed in Thomistic fashion, giving the other-mostly but not only secularist-objections one by one, and then my answers. What makes that procedure impossible is the fact that I can only detain you for about one hour and that I want to leave half of that to Bach himself. You ought to hear at least as much of what he does as of what I have to say about it. What he does takes time. Music takes time; it works in and with time. To allow Bach to have his say means that one must listen to what comes before a certain crucial point, even if one then brutally cuts off or fades out after that point. I might as well start with the Nabokov objection, the existence of what are called "parodies." The most massive case of re-use of pre-existing music is the Christmas Oratorio. Some writers have argued that this cluster of six l3 �The College church cantatas was composed before the secular cantatas with which it shares a dozen numbers. I am not convinced. I think that here, too, as in all other known cases of parodies, the secular work came first, the sacred laterthough some parallel numbers of the one and the other may go back to a common earlier source. The Christmas Oratorio is not only the most massive case of parody, but it is also the one that comes closest to convincing people that parodies do prove Bach did not really care what words he combined his music with. As far as I am concerned it is, however, the only case where one could say an original number was "better" than the later adaptation. For the Christmas Oratorio Bach drew fairly extensively on a secular cantata (BWV 213) about young Hercules at the crossroads of Virtue and Voluptuousness (or Pleasure). You will hear the beginning of both versions of a tenor aria. In the secular version it is sung by Virtue who tells young Hercules that on her wings (yes, it is "her" despite the tenor voice) the budding hero shall soar and rise as on the wings of an eagle, towards stars. The soaring, on the word schweben, really, sensibly, "soars," hovers, floats in the air, having been lifted up, off the ground, most powerfully and elegantly by the octave swoop to a syncopated tonic and run up to the dominant, all in the first bar, on the words "Auf meinen Fliigeln"-"Upon my wings." EXAMPLE 1: Cantata No. 213, Hercules at the Crossroads, and Christmas Oratorio ,.,e\ --'l'letl will 'tlu( ~Wje-"''>olkiJu. '5"d.l>)e. Ji< 7,.1.4 flt-"«n le. success. Does that prove the texts did not matter to Bach? Not a bit of it. The meanings of both texts are connected and in the setting of the words Bach has been both inspired and meticulous about fit and fitness. One last word about the Christmas Oratorio. You have heard the first bars of the arias sung by Virtue and the Christmas version of it. There is not time-but neither is there need-to play the lullaby sung by Voluptuousness in the cantata about young Hercules and the cradle song in the Christmas Oratorio-same song, the one in B, the other in G. One can choose to be shocked or amused by the transformation of the singer of that lovely tune· from Voluptuousness to the Virgin Mary. I am amused. But I see no reason why the nativity scene should not have the tenderness previously given to the allegorical figure of Pleasure. Neither can I get too excited about the fact that the Christmas Oratorio begins with a kettledrum taken over from the original of the opening number, a secular cantata beginning ''T6net, ihr Pauken/' or "Sound (bel\) (he."-) In the Christmas Oratorio this E-minor aria is lowered to D·minor and the tenor sings it as a song of dedication to the infant savior and asks for strength and courage for a Christian life. The first words are "Ich will nur dir zu Ehren leben." The "Jeben" comes where the "schweben" did before. As we shall see later, weightlessness was a fea· ture of Bach's music on the effects of grace. But in this one instance I mvself feel the music has a more immediate connection with 'the explicit verbal metaphor "schweben" (for "to hover, or glide") than the implied metaphor of "]eben" (for "to live.") (EXAMPLES 2 and 3) 2 This is the one and only example which I myself consider somewhat superior in the original, secular version. In all the other cases of adaptation I find the sacred "parody" superior to its secular original and, where it is an adaptation of an earlier sacred composition, not in~ ferior. The traffic was all one way, from secular original to sacred adaptation or "parody," or from sacred original 14 to sacred adaptation-never the other way round, from sacred to secular. The four short Masses are cases in point here. They are Greek "Kyries" and Latin "Glorias," short Lutheran Masses, which use music previously composed for German church cantatas. In the original the music often seems tailor·made for the verbal cadence of the German text, with such a close fit that even wordless instruments seem to say the words of the text or at least clearly refer to it. And yet that music re·combines with the different and shorter Greek and Latin texts of the Mass with triumphant ye drums." (BWV 214) It was a nice literal touch to delight the groundlings in the secular work. It is in no way out of place in the jubilant first number of the Christmas Oratorio, which starts with words that do not have an explicit mention of drums. 2 All but one of the examples used and, on the occasion of the lecture, played, are currently available on records. The only exception is the Christmas cantata No. 133. The chances are that some enterprising company may again come up with a seasonable recording of that one, too. 1'be examples played were: Ex. 1: Beginning of tenor aria "Aut rneinen FlUgeJn" from cantata No. 213. Ex. Beginning of tenor aria "Ich wiii nur d:ii zu Ehren" from the Christmas Oratorio. Ex. 3: Repetition of Ex. 1. Ex. 4' Beginning of cantata No. 21. Ex. Beginning of cantata No. 57. Ex. 6, Beginning of cantata No. 54. Ex. 7' Beginning of soprano aria from cantata No. 133. Ex. Alto aria from cantata No. 64. Ex. 9' "Suscepit Israel" from the Magnificat. Ex. !Q, Duet "Er denket der Barmherzigkeit" from cantata No. 10. Ex. n, Beginning of cantata No. 10. z, s, s, �January, 1975 So much for the problems posed by the parodies. With my next example I want to illustrate two points connected with the question of declamation. My other examples will be drawn from the cantatas and the Magnificat. To include anything from any Motet would, I decided reluctantly, take too long. The Passion according to St. Matthew I take as read (and heard) -or, for Freshmen and Sophomores, still in the offing-and for the Passion according to St. John there is, alas, no time. Neither is there for the B-minor Mass. Of the roughly two hundred extant church cantatas only a portion are available on record; of the rough dozen secular cantatas a much higher proportion. You may ask: why restrict the examples to what is available on records? 2 My answer is that the voices, both human and instrumental, are very important for an assessment of Bach's rhetoric and I want to give you as much of them as I can. If you want to read about the subject and try things out on the voice or piano, there are the books by Westrup and Whittaker, Spitta, Schweitzer, Pirro, Parry, Terry, Tovey, and others. And there are all the scores in the library. And do consider Bach's texts and his treatment of them, listen to what he tried to say when he sang. Consider, also, the problem of translation: The question whether it is better to sing them or to have them sung in a language one understands and what is gained and what is lost by translation. For words did matter to Bach; they assuredly and audibly mattered to him when he set them to music in the service of his church and of his Lord and God, the word made flesh. Most of the cantatas were written when he was cantor of the church and choir school of St. Thomas in Leipzig. Bach was deeply concerned about the meaning of the scriptural and other texts which he used in his church music. He searched for the meaning and thought about it and conveyed it in a variety of ways, some of them taken straight from the art of verbal rhetoric, some of them not available to that art; but these latter, too, were governed by the word. Verbal and musical rhetoric were seen as connected arts at his time and rhetoric was still taken very seriously and taught in the schools and universities. The connection with mnsic was made in a whole body of teaching called the doctrine of affects or of figures. The feelings or affects were represented by musical figures, somewhat analogous to figures of speech. Johann Sebastian Bach-unlike his sons, who in their day became more famous-was a keen and educated rhetorician. This must be clear to any careful listener to his vocal music. It was also attested by Johann Abraham Birnbaum, a teacher of rhetoric at the university of Leipzig, who wrote of Bach that He so perfectly knows the parts and advantages which the elaboration of a piece of music has in common with the art of rhetoric, that it is not only a most satisfying pleasure to hear his thorough discourses on the similarity and agreement between the two; but that also one can only marvel at the skilful use he makes of them in his work. Birnbaum was defending Bach against an attack by a contemporary musician and critic, Johann Adolph Scheibe, who had asked: How can a man be faultless as a writer of music who has not sufficiently studied natural philosophy, so as to have investigated and become familiar with the forces of nature and of reason? How can he have all the advantages which are indispensable to the cultivation of good taste who has hardly troubled himself at all with the critical studv, the cultivation and the rules which are as necessary. to music as they are to oratory and poetry, so that without their aid it is hardly possible to write with feeling and expression? What Scheibe called "the forces of nature and of reason" was now being asserted against the theology and biblical exegesis of Bach; and the new rhetoric of emotion and expressiveness began to prevail over Bach's homiletics-, -his preaching oratory. Scheibe was not alone in his criticism. Rationalism was on the rise and antagonistic to revelation. Bnt quite apart from the content of his vocal compositions, Bach was attacked for their form, too. There is no time to go into the technicalities of the doctrine of figures, though every example that follows could be discussed in technical terms. Suffice it to say that a man like Johann Mattheson, though on the one hand aware of-indeed a writer onthe system of "figures," on the other ridiculed Bach for what he took to be faulty or unnatural declamation. He found a ready target in the opening chorus of the cantata Ich hatte vie} Bekummernis (BWV 21) which, as he put it, "for a long time does nothing but repeat" I, I, I, I had much grief, I had much grief, in my heart, in my heart. I had much grief ... and so on, and so forth. The repetition is undeniable. But the chances are that Bach knew what he was doing. He may have wanted to present the troubled "I" imprisoned in its self-centered grief and in its self-echoing heart-then to contrast it with the consolations of the Lord delighting the soul. The English translation of the German translation of verse 19 of Psalm 94 (and I give you that, because tense and structure differ somewhat )(wiil.li<J be: "I had many cares in my heart; but thy consolations ch,eered my soul." ',, ' Ich hatte viel Bekummernis(se) in meinem Herzen; aber deine Trostungen ergotzten meine Seele. It was that aber, the "but," that Bach wanted to highlight, the contrast he wanted to bring out, both directly and 15 �The College indirectly, in the musical treatment of the word itself-a "mere" conjunction-and in that of the two halves of the whole statement. It is conjunctions-and I could give you a whole list of them-that show more clearly, perhaps, than anything else how concerned Bach was with sentence structure, grammar, and syntax-and not just with imagery. Indeed the word ABER is put in a musical equivalent of capital letters triply underlined. It could not be more arresting and emphatic. (Very unlike an "aber" in Brahms, I would say.) It is preceded by an instrumental sinfonia or introduction, slow, sad, with sinuous oboe and violin parts interplaying over a shifting base of sustained and strangely modulating string and organ chords. Then comes the chorus, with the triple exclamation "Ich, ich, ich," followed by quasi-fugal or canonic entries, maintaining the sadness with many suspensions, seconds, and sevenths, and introducing some agitation with hammering syllables. EXAMPLE 4: Cantata 21, Icl1 llatte viel Bekiimmernis natural." But can "naturalness" be the sole or even the chief criterion in the musical delivery of a message? Under that heading there is also the question of the natural stress and length of syllables in speech and what happens to them when speech is sung, or becomes song. In one of his Motets-that is, as its name might indicate, a vocal composition with words all the time, no independent instrumental parts or interludes-Bach set the text of verses 26 and 27 of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, chapter 8: Der Geist hiltt m1srer Schwacllheit auf, denn wir wissen nicht, was wir beten sollen, wie sich's gebiihret; sOndeTn dCr Geist sellist v'ertiltt ulls aUf's hest'e ~aussprechlichem Seufzen. The Spirit helpeth our infirmities, for we know not what we should pray for ns we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. After a cheerful and vigorous first line, clearly indicative of the help given us in our weakness-especially, and most graphically, in a long, low first syllable of SchwachJwit, which after more than four bars is swung up an octave, Ich Imtte viel Bekiimmernis in meinem Hcrzen; aber deine TrOstungen ergOtzten meine Seele. I had many cares in my heart; but Thy consolations cheered my soul. in the sopranos, for the syllables "-lleit auf" (in the German the Spirit helps our weakness up), there is dne stress on the need for such help, in the repeated conjunction "denn" (for "for we know not ...") separated from the rest of the clause by rests and echoing from one choir to the other. After "we know not what we should pray for as we ought" comes: "but the spirit makes intercession This goes on for thirty-six bars, and then comes that lapidary ABER: for us with inexpressible groanings." And what does Bach do? At that "but," just before the word "sondern," he switches from 3/8 to common time (or 4/4) which, however, he treats in a way so uncommon as to lift the listener out of his seat and shift the singer from foot to foot, uncertain where the beat comes, as you can see in the bit of notation I have given you of the clause of liberation introduced by the "sondern:" ' • ~9-~~R It is the pivotal point of this number and the pivot of the message of the entire work. In this chorus it prefaces a lively section on the consolations of the Lord. The rest of the work has tlle same contrast, which is prefigured in this number, of anxiety and solace, even joy, culminat- ing in a triumphal chorus of great splendor at the end. The whole work-it is Bach's longest cantata-is about thatABER. You may find the first choral portion somewhat repetitious too; but you probably see the point in retrospect. Bach's contemporaries objected to it because it was "un- 16 The declamation on that "sondern der Geist selbst vertritt uns auf's beste" is, of course, what the experts of the day -and our day-would pronounce "faulty." The musical accents, put in very deliberately and consistently by Bach himself, do not fall on the stressed wordsl or syllables. It is like a sudden off-beat bit of dance. !;put the squiggly line under the word "vertritt" because"/l\suspecta· .. pun th ere: the verb treten means " to step',I, 1 ',_yertreten tO step in the place of someone or something else. What better wav to illustrate the mediation or intercession of the Spirit than by a shift of beat or tread? Strangely enough the ABER in the earlier example was off-beat too. The spoken aber is a trochee. And it is inter- �Januarv, 1975 csting that Bach, in the example from cantata No. Zl which I p!a,·ed before, did not bring it in on the downbeat, but on the naturall\' weak beat after it, and gave both svllables an unnatunil, artificial stress. Albert Schweitzer, though most keen on the imagery and pictorial aspects of Bach's music and quite capable of casting occasional aspersions on Bach's way with words, quite rightly referred to the next example we shall hear as one that shovvs the immediacy with which Bach's music arises from the natural declamation of the text of verse 12 of the Epistle of James: seJi'& {it aer Maim, aer aTe AllfeChtrillg eraUJdet: defln ilaciJdcTi1 er bewiilirct tSt, wiTd CI die KfonC aes I£bel1s efnpfilnge'IJ. Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life. But now, if we do what Schweitzer tells us to do, simply read that sentence with the values and accents given to the syllables by the lengths and stresses of the notes, we discover something rather more interesting than "natural" or correct declamation. After the threefold "Selig" (Blessed, blessed, blessed), the sentence gets going: blessed is the man . . . and straightaway we have· misplacements of stress or length. In the relative clause that follows it gets "worse." And the most plavful, dancing distortion of the spoken rhythm comes on "Wlrd Cf die Kfane d~s Lebefls ClnpfilngCn." The hcmiola and its variant on the final "cmpfangen" are not just what one might expect in any dance of those clays. It performs a rhetorical function by its very linguistic "unnaturalness." It overcomes gravity by grace. (EXAMPLE 5). The music is mellifluous and the overall emphasis is on grace, beatitude, and the crown of life. Compare this with a cantata that also deals with the overcoming of temptation but which does it very differcntll', both in text and music. It does not start and end wit!; the blessedness that is the reward of virtue, but on the contrary starts with the imperative: "Resist sin!": "\Viderstehe doclr der Siinde," and supports it not with a promise but a warning: "lest its poison take hold of you": "sonst ergreifet diclr ihr Gift." It is all struggle and conflict and even the music is "unnatural" or strained, with the singer, like the fiddles before her, coming in on the leading tone, then g~ing cj_own to the dominant and up to the subdominant 7-5, 4, outlining a dominant seventh chord, over an equally astonishing, insistent I, and an opening chord of 7 D 4 Ab 7 2 F 1 Eb. In the opening phrase the root STEH of Widerstehe, or "stand," as in 41Withstand," comes on the repeated subdominant. Later that root svllable is sustained first on the 5, then on the I, standing its ground against the pressures of changing and conflicting harmonics. EXAMPLE 6: +5 3 ~ ,__ After this sombre battle song against sin, with its musical insistence on the need for steadfastness, let me just mention some other words that Bach is apt to stress by long notes, some verbs, notably, like bCtell, to pray, or halten, to hold. And he gives them long notes not only when they are in the grammatical imperative, as in cantata No. 67, Halt im Gediichtnis Jesum Christ (Hold in remembrance Jesus Christ), or No. 70, Wachet, betet 17 �The College (Watch, pray), but in any mood or tense, ever mindful of the need for sustained effort and concentration, vigilance, prayer, and steadfastness. Even the evangelist's refrenee to Jesus praying in the Matthew Passion is lengthened somewhat on betete, though in recitative-which is closer to the spoken language-the length must be less than in an aria or chorus. From this hortatory kind of preaching let us go to something quite different, a rhetoric that works by a choreography of layout, an art of positioning or deployment, almost what one might get in a piece of typography. It comes in the Christmas cantata Ich freue mich in dir (I rejoice in Thee, BWV 133). The words of the first part of the soprano aria say: "How sweetly it rings in the ear, this word: my Jesus is born. How it penetrates my heart." Even the repetition pattern of phrases and words may give you an inkling of how Bach went about setting this text: Wie Iieblich klingt es in den Ohren/ How sweetly it rings in the ear \Vie lieblich klingt es, wie Iieblich klingt es in den Ohren, wie lieblich klingt es in den Ohren, wie lieblich klingt es in den Ohren, wie Iieblicb klingt es in den Ohren, dies \Vort-dies Wort--dies Wort: Mein Jesus ist geboren-geboren. WI ie dringt es in das Herz hineinl this word: my Jesus is born. How it penetrates the heart! You will hear the loveliness of the ringing before the focusing starts in earnest, on "the word, the word, the word." And when, after all this very pointed preparation, the word comes, "Mein Jesus ist geboren," the first three words of it are delivered on a monotone dominant-the most concentrated way of communicating anything, I suppose, in the midst of moving music-after which the word "geboren" (or "born") comes down to the tonic and up again, to remain suspended on a vulnerable 6, then a 4, or subdominant, which may indeed pierce the heart, as much as any verbal or pictorial account of incarnation and nativity. (EXAMPLE 7). There is another use for the monotone. In the example we have just heard it gave an almost hypnotic concentration on the words "Mein Jesus ist." Another Christmas cantata, No. 64, Sehet, welcl1 cine Liebe (See how great a love), has, in its soprano aria, a monotone emphasis on the firmness, durability, eternity of the things that Jesus gives, compared with the vanities of this world, which one can hear going up in wisps of smoke. The words for what endures are bkib'et fest und ewig steh'n and) they are delivered on monotone quarter not1s;) with t)Je___'~st-ehen"lasting for over two bars. ,The alto aria in the same cantata supplies the opposite extreme: upward leaps of major sevenths, intervals which are hard to sing but have their clear rhetorical function. When the singer sings about gladly giving up everything 18 for the sake of heaven, she leaps from the lower tonic to the upper leading tone, on the word "bin," or "up." The aria is about the insignificance of the world when the inheritance of heaven is assured. Freedom from care and for an unencumbered pilgrimage through life, a dancing pilgrimage, are put to us in the jaunty and at the same time steadfast music scored only for alto, oboe d'amore, and continuo. Over the steady eighths of the 6/8 time the reed instrument and human voice interplay in wonderfully free and varied rhythm and the singer's words are placed, both in time and pitch, in ways thaJ: at,e much more telling than they would be if spoken. "Of the world I'i'n asking naught"-"Von dCr Welt verlang' ich nichts": spoken German would have very little stress on the "von," none on "der" and much on "Welt." But Bach cc:mes down with a bounce, an unprepared downbeat, on "Von" and keeps doing it with tireless resilience. Von der Welt verlang' ich nichts, wenn ich nur den Himmel erhe. Alles, Alles geb' ich hin, weil ich genug versichert bin, dass ich ewig nicht verderhe. From the world I'm asking naught if only I inherit heaven. All, all I give up, because I am sufficiently assured that I shall not perish in all eternity. The way he dismisses natural gravity and scatters the "nichts" sets the world at naught with an inspired and physical immediacy. Bach does not only say it, he does it. (EXAMPLE 8). So much, then, for the delivery of texts with linguistically usual or unusual accentuation and lengths and a variety of pitches and intervals: the rhetoric of declamation and gesture and dance. It is an oratory of breathing, too. In the motet Singet dem I-Ierrn ein neucs Lied (Sing unto the Lord a new song) Bach not only sings, rejoices, dances, and plays, as the text of the psalm enjoins, but at the end, on the words "let everything that has breath praise the Lord"in German "Alles was Qdem hat lobe den Herrn," he enacts, brings home, the breathing, the breath of life, in loud, long, large~ lunged "A" s and "0" s, a clear allusion to Alpha and Omega and at the same time a religious breathing exercise. You must listen to it for yourselves one day. Or better still, sing it. Thus there is preachment, and there is enactment of what is preached. And, of course, the content of the preaching covers the whole range of faith, hope, charity, and the rest. Impossible to exemplify them all; but they are all there, as one would expect, in cantatas for every Sunday and Holiday of the church year. But there is one more objection to sung sermons as such that I should deal with: not so much that they are ineffectual-and I don't believe they are; on the contrary, I believe they are more effectual than spoken sermons, on the whole-but that they can be unintelligible. I was going to say "inaudible," but actually what I mean is the kind of piece, mostly a choral piece, where the prolifera- �January, 1975 tion of polyphonic parts makes it hard to hear the words. My answer to that is that indeed the words may at times be indistinct, but that at other times, sufficient times, they are clearly audible. Take, for instance, a very complex piece like the opening number of cantata No. 45 that has as its text Micah 6, verse 8: "He hath showed thee, oh man, what is good; and what does the· Lord require of thee but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" The German differs a little and has something like: "You have been told, man, what is good and what the Lord demands of you: namely: to keep the word of God and to practice loving-kindness and to be humble before your God." The German is: "Es ist dir gesagt, Mensch, was gut ist und was der Herr von dir fordcrt, niimlich Gottes Wort halten und Liebe iiben und demiitig sein vor deinem Gott." And this is what happens: An angular and fairly agitated instrumental prelude prepares us for a grand choral fugue. The instruments keep on with their introductory music, while the vocal entries over this ritornello do not invariably have one set of music for one set of words and some of their declamation is rather "instrumental," i.e., not exactly tail- ored for voice or words. But we hear successive fugal entries "Es ist dir gesagt," with a long "-sagt" for "you have been told." Then the four voices sing that first phrase all together, homophonically. This happens three times, with polyphonic announcement followed by homophonic repetition. All these come through clearly. After the third homophonic repetition, the sopranos immediately and audibly carry the sentence a bit further: "Es ist dir gesagt, Mensch, was gut ist und was der Herr von dir fordert" (" ... What is good and what the Lord demands of you"). The way the other voices come in and combine on those words makes them only moderately audible. But Bach has taken care to get each part of the phrase across clearly somewhere or other. The altos have a clear, slow descent with a half-note to each syllable on "was der Herr von dir for-dert" when the agitation of the music seems otherwise too complex for comprehension of the words. But the domination of the "instrumental" rather than declamatory way of writing means that it is expedient for Bach to conclude the instalment on the first part of the sentence more homophonically, with the words more clearly audible in the last bar or two because the voices sing them all together. The orchestra then has a few bars of this angular music by itself before the choir, all voices together, homophonically and with great .. chordal resonance, crash in with an ultra-audible "NAMLICH" on two half-note chords, f011owed.)by a bar's rest and another Jrwuophonous_"l]iimljch"· to/launch the rest of the sentence aftcr~tlre "ilamely:" "niimlich Gottes Wort halten und Liebe iiben und demiitig sein vor deinem Gott." (Namely: to keep God's word and to practice charity and to be humble before your God.) There are long, emphatic notes on "halten," for keeping, holding on to, the word of God, and there is a slow and very distinct whole-note descent of the sopranos in the phrase about walking humbly before God. The whole sentence is then delivered again, in a similar though somewhat abridged form and with only one "niimlich," the one that runs into the phrase about what God wants. The earlier more dramatic "namlicll"-with the first one quite alone, followed by a pause before the rhetorical method clearly. That stress it. What preceded it in made the music run away with it is what matters and he has repetition-shows Bach's is how an orator might the cantata might have the words; what follows to draw attention to it. So we get the audible conjunction, the unamely," or (<to wit." The biblical context, what precedes the text of the cantata in the Bible, calls for the arresting unamlich" even more: it is a stream of verbose questions about how the Lord may be propitiated: "Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow mvsclf before the high God? Shall I come before him wit!{ burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?'' None of these things, comes the answer, and refers the voluble enquirer to an earlier communication-uyou were told"-and then, patiently, sternly, spells it out once more: NAMELY: obedience to the word of God, love, and humility. And in case the musical excitement of it all is too great for the congregation to take it in-i.e., the prose of it-as clearly as it should, the tenor, before himself singing his electrifying aria on the consequences of the knowledge of what is due to God, recapitulates what the opening chorus has sung, in the clearly audible (and very expressive) paraphrase of his recitative, stressing the need for fear of and obedience to the Lord, for humility, and love. From this discussion of the audibility or intelligibility of a text let me finally go on to a much more difficult matter: wordless messages. There are what is known as cantus firmi in many of the cantatas. A cantus firmus is a hymn tune or chant sung in slow motion in the midst or on top of a polyphonic piece. There is the advantage, here, of simultaneity: you can say several things at once in music. But that is not all. The ripieno choir's entry with the slow soprano line 0 Lamm Gottes unschuldig in the opening number of the Matthew Passion, on the cue, the word "lamb," provided by the complex double chorus below, is very powerful when it happens. What would be the effect of that passion hymn-a German adaptation of the Latin Agnus Dei-if it were not sung, but played on a wind instrument? That, in fact, is Bach's more usual procedure, and the wordlessness of such cantos firmi may increase their power-provided, of course, the listener registers them, as any attentive listener will. Bach wrote for a congregation that not only registered but recognized them. 19 �The College Bach's familiarity with the hymnal was such that he drew on whatever verse of whatever hymn was most apposite at any given moment-witness the reshufl!ing of t~e original order of stanzas in the passwn chorales, for mstance in the Passions according to St. John and St. Matthew, and, of course, with different, appropriate harmonizations. An instrumental cantus firmus is just a melodic line and leaves it to the listener to think of the intended words, perhaps even to choose between two or more possible sets of words. . It is in part this ambiguity and appeal to the hstener to think, to articulate for himself, that gives a wordless cantus firmus such force. Its increasingly arcane nature1 the growing secrecy of the message with the wani:'g ~f the tradition that Bach could still take for granted m hts day, may actually add to its force-provided the listener attends and engages himself. It is less a matter of "research," though that may help, than of attention. Once one knows that Bach is up to such tricks as cantus firmi, registering them is the first step to identifying them, either by instant recognition or by a little effort.. The immediacy of a lost tradition may be gone, but famthanty with a surviving bit of it may help, and so may famthanty with other works by Bach or by other composers. Let me give you an example. The traditional tune of the Magnificat is not sung in Bach's Latin Magnificat. It is played by the oboes over the singers' Suscepit Israel puerum sumn, recordatus misericordiae suae. He helped his servant Israel in remembrance of his mercy. EXAMPLE 9: TONUS PEREGRINUS m the Magnificat (Suscepit Israel) r · f;-g-· g_J r··lt'·~ 11 ..•~ ~ t\=::::=-1~~ D• ' ~trt'_fl":lcf'ld'.?JJ£t! --~ _ ~-=L ...E.::::±='.:: ..---.._ r·t f ·t-::.c ftrjl§tt'1i81fl.fTV\ ~ It is, on the other hand, sung as well as played in various movements of Bach's so-called German Magnificat, the cantata Meine Seelc erhebt den Herrn (My soul doth magnify the Lord, BWV 10); and in the alto and tenor duet "Er denket der Barmberzigkeit und biltt seinem Diener Israel auf' which corresponds to the Latin "Suscepit Israel," the cantus firmus is also given to the oboes while the singers and continuo sigh away in a phrase dominated by descending minor seconds. Er denket der Barmherzigkeit He remembers his mercy und hilft seinem Diener Israel auf. and helps his servant Israel up. 20 EXAMPLE 10: TONUS PEREGRINUS m altojtenor duet of cantata No. IO J65k J. r·\l.J.)>·l)J.lJ±_t§_ Jb l. c1J. 1.1 J. J.l J.J, 111. I@JJ: One strange thing about that tune is its age and long history. (And tradition is another kind of simultaneit~.) The tune is known as the Tonus Peregrinus and was onginally, from the 9th century onward, associated with psalm II 4 In exitu Israel, the one the pilgrims sing in Dante's ' Purgatory: "When Israel went out of Egypt . .. ." I t n?w survives in the doxology of some Enghsh-speakmg churches. I am glad to say that two of Bach's settings of it are included in the Music for Freshman Chorus. Aud I would like to end with yet another, the setting that begins cantata No. 10. The German words mean: "My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior. For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden: for behold from henceforth all generatwns. shall call me blessed." The words are spoken by the Virgin Mary after the annunciation, when she visits her cousin Elisabeth (Luke 1, verse 46-48). But you may prefer to think of the pilgrims in the Divine Comedy-or, for that matter, anywhere. Meine Seel' erhebt den Herren und mein Geist freuet sich Gottes, meines Heilandes; denn er hat seine elende Magd angesehen. Siehe, von nun an werden mich selig preisen alle Kindes Kind. My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God, my saviour; for he has his lowly handmaiden regarded. (German word order) Behold, from now on shall call me blessed all children's children. EXAMPLE ll: TONUS PEREGRINUS in soprano and alto parts of the opening chorus of cantata No. 10. �Januarv, 1975 '- ----- -------- ··------ CAMPUS -ALUMNI NEWS ·-·---·· ---- ···--··--·-- - - - authors from Plato and Sophocles through Tocqueville to the framers of the fundamental American political documents. MELLON TUTORSHIPS Three members of the Annapolis faculty have been appointed to Andrew W. Mellon Tutorships by the Board of Visitors and Governors. They are Bert Thoms, Curtis 'Nilson and Elliott Zuckerman. Those already holding such honorary appointments are Laurence Berns, Samuel Kutler, Michael Littleton, Robert B. Williamson, and E. Malcohn Vvvatt. HOMECOMING Dean Robert Neidor.f addresses the Graduate Institute at the August 16 commencement. 29 The Graduate Institute in Liberal Education concluded its eighth annual session with the awarding of 29 master's degrees. TI1ese graduates bring the total number of Graduate Institute degree holders to 143. This year's institute graduates are: Bruce M. Adams, Paul F. Bitting, Paula H. Cohen, Terrence N. Dilley, Martin A. Drew, Edward H. Fitzpatrick, M. Signithia Fordham, Lorraine Y. Garcia, Paul J. Garrett, Gene M. Handy, Kathleen Horan, Barbara H. Howells, Anne L. Kinard. Also, Norman E. Levan, Renate J. Lewis, Patricia B. Mager, Lois B. Martin, Virginia S. Newlin, Kenneth A. Parker, Joseph S. Pluchinotta, Mary D. Reed, Sandra N. Robinson, MarINSTITUTE GRADUATES garet I. Sansom, Ramona Scholder, Clara L. Small, Cecil J. Smith, Jerome C. Smith, M. Carol Spreitzer, and Laquita J. Wood. HIGH SCHOOL PROGRAM Homecoming 1974 reached its climax at a reception and banquet on Saturday night, November 2nd, when more than 200 alumni and guests gathered at the Annapolis Hilton Inn. President and Mrs. Weigle, earlier in the dav elected to honorary membership ii1 the Alumni AssOciation, received a membership certificate as St. John's third special summer program for high school students was again held in Santa Fe in !974. Coming from racially and geographicallv mixed backgrounds, the !8 innercity ·lOth and lith graders interspersed well as a sterling bowl symbolizing Mr. Weigle's 25 vears as St. John's 18th president. The weekend started with a lecture by Samuel S. Kutler '54 of the Annapolis faculty, followed by a "beer and twice-weekly seminars and two separate conversation" gathering in the basement common room of Chase-Stone House. Alumni, seniors, faculty, and tutorials with horseback riding, Indian dances, museum trips, hiking and camping, a rodeo, and the Santa Fe Opera. Emphasis in this year's readings was on political works, and on philosophical and literary works which have a bearing on political questions. Once again, the students demonstrated their ability to read and discuss works by others rallied 'round a flowing keg and talked until the very small hours. A true highpoint of the weekend, and the core of a very successful home-coming, was the silver anniversary re- union of the Class of 1949. Led by Jonatban Brooks and Allan Hoffman, with local coordination by Peter 21 �The College ALUMNI SUMMER PROGRAMS Last summer's program for alumni and their families, held in Santa Fe, was by all accounts a great success. About 40 persons were enrolled during the two-week period, 12 of them for both weeks. Alumni classes represented ranged from the 40's to the 70's, and several non-alumni spouses participated. All were impressed by the ease with which such diverse ages came together for genuinely good tutorials and seminars. The obvious success of this first program in Santa Fe, together with the strongly affirmative response to last spring's questionnaire, will lead to similar programs on both campuses for summer, 1975. And while final decisions had not been worked out by press time, the following information is available: Hamill, 26 alumni and their guests descended on the College in great good spirit. In a real coup, the '49'ers brought former president Stringfellow Barr with them to lead a special seminar on The Federalist. The class then enrolled Mr. Barr into its ranks at the banquet, where he was presented with a. hand-illuminated scroll of appreciation. As a special gift he also received a copy of Volume I of the Journals of the Continental Congress, covering the period September, 1774, through December, 1775. The class also made Mr. Weigle an On the Annapolis campus the program will be held during the period June 15 to 29, in Santa Fe from August 3 to 17. As last year, alumni and their families may attend either or both weeks, and alternative tutorials and seminars will be offered each week. There will be ample opportunity for s1ght-seemg and recreation, and supervised activities for younger children will be available for a modest fee. Full details for both programs will sent to all alumni early in February, g1vmg all mfonnation on curricula faculty, and tuition and housing fees: While costs will not be as low as last year, every effort is being made to keep them at a Ipinimum. b~ Meanwhile, plan now to attend one or the other of these interesting sesswns, or both, if the spirit and pocketbook are both willing! Bernard F. Gessner '27 and William W. Simmons '48 were reelected president and executive vice president, re- spectively. Edward F. Lathrop '38 was elected secretary and Carol P. Tilles '59 became treasurer. Other directors elected were Franklin R. Atwell '53, Mary A. DeC. Braun '58, Garnett Y. Clark '36, E. Roy Shawn '35, and Patricia W. von Schwerdtner '70. In other action the membership voted to donate $500 to the College for purchase of lighting equipment for Key Auditorium; to recommend that the College obtain rights to Scott honorary member, and presented him Buchanan's printed works and to con- with a Steuben crystal sculpture inscribed "RDW '49." As Allan Hoffman said so aptly, this brought about what sider publishing them; and to direct the Board of Directors to review College publications such as lectures with 'Winkie" a view toward listing them in 'some Barr and Dick Weigle became classmates! appropriate publication so that alumni might purchase them. A~~bQ!ATION AWARD OF MERIT was otherwise impossible: .. .ANNUAL 1 MEETING At the Annual Meeting on Homecoming afternoon a new slate of officers and directors was elected. 22 One of the most important actions of the Association Annual Meeting on Homecoming Day was the presentation of the Alumni Award of Merit for 1974. Selected this year were John D. Alexander, Sr., of the Class of 1920, the !-Ion. Benjamin Michaelson, Sr., Class of 1912, and Ernst 0. von Schwerdtner, Class of 1917. Mr. Alexander, a native of Maryland's Eastern Shore, is a prominent Baltimore lawyer and former law school instructor. For many years he was active with the old Maryland Tuberculosis Association, and is a past president of the St. John's Alumni Association. He is the father of John D. Alexander, Jr., '53, also an attorney in Baltimore. Judge Michaelson is a long-time resident of Anne Arundel County (Mel.). He was for years general counsel for the County Commissioners and then headed th~ group which ,;placed the Commissioners with a charter form of government. At the time of his retirement in 1962 Judge Michaelson was chief judge of the Fifth Circuit Court. Mr. von Schwerdtner has been a St. Johnnie all his life, since he was born while his father was on the faculty of the College. After graduation as valedictorian of the class he taught in several high schools and four colleges, one of the latter his own alma mater. At each of these institutions "Vonnie" combined the coaching of one or more sports with his academic work. In 1968 he retired as head of the modern language department at Towson State College near Baltimore. This year's recipients join 29 other alumni who have received the Award since it was first presented in 1950. The resolution adopted by the membership at the Annual Meeting, October 22, 1949, reads as follows: "RESOLVED: That an Award of Merit in the form of a written scroll may be made annually by the Alumni Association and presented by the PresIdent thereof during the graduation exercises at the College to an alumnus of the College for distinguished and meritorious service to the United States or to his native state or to St. John's College, or for outstanding achievement within his chosen field." In 1953 the resolution was modified to provide for presentation at Home- �January, 197 5 coming, and in 1970 it was further modified to allow for not more than three awards to be made. CLASS NOTES 1912 In the past year, Philip L. Alger has received two notable awards, the first the Schenectady County (N.Y.) Bar Association's Liberty Bell award for distinguished community service. Then in August Mr. Alger was presented the lEEE Power Society's 1974 Power-Life Award. Established in 1970, this award recognizes power engineers who have made significant contributions in the field of harmonious development of man and his environment. 1921 Dr. Thomas B. Turner, long-time member and former chairman of the Board of Visitors and Governors, is the author of "Heritage ot Excellence," a book covering a 32-year segment of the history of the Johns Hopkins Medical Institutions. Dr. Turner, dean emeritus of the Hopkins Medical School, presented a copy of his book to the College last spring. 1927 Louis D. Clark writes that Ira Fulton Catlin. who taught at St. Paul's School for Boys in Baltimore and at several colleges, is now living in retirement in Almond, N.Y. 1939 James E. "Barney" Boyle returned to the United States this fall from Germany, where he was director of the German-American Institute in Tiibingen, West Germany. 1941 Philip H. Dougherty's July 30th column in the New York Times, a feature covering the advertising business, devotes considerable space to remarks by Victor G. Bloede, III, on the "dirty tricks" in the agency business. The occa· sian was Vic's farewell as outgoing chairman of the American Association of Advertising Agencies. He is quoted as saying: "I have to believe the people in this business could com· pete just as vigorously while observing certain civilized standards of business behavior. . . . Come to think of it, dirty tricks may be going out of style anyhow." 1944 The following from Jake Smedley is selfexplanatory: "We were never much on organization, but '44 salvaged a small last-minute reunion for number thirty. Kitty and Dave Dobreer took a break from medical practice in California to come early and visit daughter Sal1ie, a senior with an eye on a math thesis. Georgie and Jake Smedley, your scribe, joined them for Friday dinner and the lecture, bringing news from Haven Simmons, who would be in Annapolis later in the month, and Sig Sorenson, recently hit with an ulcer operation and unemployment. Sig asks where is Fred de Armond; anybody know? "TI1e Einstein seminar was stimulating but imposing, and it was good to see Jimmy Raley's smiling face waiting in the dining room. Still full of blarney, he escaped for a few hours from St. Mary's County, where he is in charge of school construction. Next came Russ Levering, still in tobacco but on the government end now, and still in great enough shape to field the strongest foot in the alumni-student soccer gmne. "Jim and Russ left, but Herb Taylor, our '44 in residence, was on hand, and Eleanor and Tllad Prout arrived to join in tribute to VVeigle and \Vinkie at the dinner. Thad is chief of medicine at Greater Baltimore Medical Center and active in medical research. "In a few hours it was over. This was my first reunion in 25 years. Annapolis and the college changes and so do we. Guards hover over the campus and the streets at night are uneasy. VVe have greyed or balded or slowed a step. Yet there is vitality in the college and in us. Heading back to social work at the Children's Village in Dobbs Ferry (N.Y.), I felt some emptiness: I suppose I had sought the past, but the present is good." As a footnote: two and one-half weeks after the above-noted gathering, Howell Cobb was on campus and stopped for a fine talk in the Alumni Office. He was here showing St. John's to daughter Mary Ann as she sorts and searches through colleges. A post-WW II Virginia law graduate, Howell is in practice in Beaumont, Texas, 1947 Paul G. Sitton, the Early American History specialist of the Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, has been elected a director of The Manuscript Society, an internation~l group of collectors, curators, and scholars established to foster the greater use of original source manuscript material in the study, teaching, and writing of history. ered their educational connection. (Could the article in the June Reporter have helped?) 1950 John J. Logue, director of Villanova University's World Order Research Institute, lectured this past May on "The Future of the Oceans" at the Universities of Stockholm, Gothenburg, Oslo, :mel Amsterdam. 1951 Last May Alfred P. Franklin was awarded the M.B.A. N degree by Rutgers University. 1955 Barbara (Brunner) Oosterlwut is now a student at the Law School of the University of Maryland. 1956 Our very mobile TV news director, Pasquale L. Polillo, has become Vice President for News of the TV Stations Group for Westinghouse Broadcasting Company, with offices in New York City. 1958 Nauey (Eagle) Lindley received the degree of Master of Music at the 1974 Commencement at \Vest Virginia University. - 1959 After five years as an administrator of a middle school in Tallahassee, Fla., John E. McDevitt, III, is now assistant director of the Leon County (Fla.} program for gifted children, and is very excited about the possibilities for this pilot project. 1960 Katherine (Hsu) Haas tells us that she and Raymond '58 have sold their ranch in North Dakota, and are now in Annapolis for a while. Both are teaching at Key School, she in elementary school, he in high school. Katherine has just received her B.S. degree from the University of North Dakota. 1948 1961 LeRoy E. Pagano is the new chairman of the Department of Business at Staten Island Community College, He had been a member of the faculty at Newark College of Engineering before moving on to Staten Island, Michael G. Gold and Rene Selvin were married in New York on April 21, 1974. Paul Rosenberg is now Information Manager of the Baltimore Region Institutional Studies Center. Jolln R. Pekbnen, author of the recent book The American Connection and former Life magazine correspondent, has been chosen for the Drug Abuse Council Fellowship program for 1974-75. John will consider the influences of drug manufacturers on medical school education, a line of investigation arising from his book. 1949 A clipping from the Yonkers, N.Y. Herald Statesman for November 6th contains an interesting profile on A1ron Bisberg, who last April became a "corporate drop-out" to open The County Bike Center in Armonk, N.Y. Our thanks to Jake Smedley '44 for sending this item to us. Gordon E. McNamee, film producer, writes that Robert L. Campbell '45 wrote the script for "my latest scienCe-thrill movie 'Understanding Underwater Chest Drainage'," and will do another script this fall. It was only after working together for some time that the two discov- 1963 William N. Davis in June was elected vice president of the brokerage firm of White, Weld and Company in Boston. Will, his wife Jessica (Hoffman) '65 and, to quote her, "three magnificent sons," Joshua, aged 9, Alexander, aged 23 �The College 6, and Benjamin, aged 2, live in Newton, Mass. Alan H. Dorfman has joined the Annapolis faculty full-time this fall, after teaching freshman mathematics last year. Alan holds a master's degree in mathematics from Johns Hopkins University. J. Morrow and Carol (Dimit) Otis have announced the birth, on October 22nd, of Jordan Morrow Hunter Otis. A memorial fund has been set up in Annapolis by the family and friends of Elliott A. Rosenberg, who died in February, 1972. Another new tutor in Annapolis this year is Deborah Schwartz. She comes back to the campus with two master's degrees, one in psycholinguistics from Johns Hopkins University, the other in French and linguistics from GeOrgetown University. The editorial page of the New York Times for July 20th carried a brief article by Jonathan H. Sinmeich, questioning the justification for individual state bar examinations. And Jon himself was scheduled to take the New Y ark State version of those examinations on the next two days! 1964 1969 Advice from Pomona College informs us that W1i11iam P. Banks has been promoted to associate professor of psychology for this academic year. Bill, a member of the Pomona faculty since 1969, holds M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from Johns Hopkins University. Ralph E. Englesby is teaching at the Pasir Ridge School in Borneo, a school run for the Union Oil Company of Indonesia. James Cromartie (SF) has completed his Ph.D. degree in ecology at Cornell University, and was due to join the faculty of Stockton State College (N.J.) in late summer as an assistant professor of environmental studies. M. Richard Stevens, missionary-in-charge of St. John's in-the-Wilderness Episcopal Mission in Allakeket, Alaska, and Miss Linda Epstein were married on June 11th in Allakaket. The service was performed by an Athabascan Indian, the first graduate of Richard's training classes for the sacramental priesthood. The new Mrs. Stevens is Associate Fiction Editor of Cosmopolitan magazine. Richard hopes to start work a year from now on an M.A. degree in special education for emotionally disturbed children, possibly at Columbia University. Catl1erine (Allen) Wagner has received a fellowship from the Henry L. and Grace Doherty Charitable Foundation, Inc., to study the iconography of ceremonial art in highland Peru during the Incaic and early Colonial periods. The grant covers travel costs fo;r her and accompanying family, a 12-month living al1owance and minimum research needs. Cathy is a graduate student in anthropology at the University of Illinois. 1965 Very late we have become aware of an August, 1973, article in Business Week which mentions Sharon L. Bishop. Sharon is an associate, and one of the top women, in the management consulting firm of Booz, Allen and Hamilton in Washington, D.C. The company specializes in services to government and nonprofit clients in the social welfare field. Sharon has published in several professional journals. Grace (Logerfo) Dawson is the co-author, with Thomas Muller, of "The Impact of Annexation on City Finances: A Case Study in Richmond, Virginia," published by the Urban Institute. Mary Louise (Biggar) Main was awarded the degree of doctor of philosophy by Johns Hopkins University on May 24th. The entire college community was saddened by the death, on June 20th, of Mary's husband, Alvin. He had been a member of the St. John's faculty since 1960, and was on leave of absence at the time of his death. Mary is on the faculty of the University of California at Berkeley. 1966 Th~ 1971 Rather indirectly we have learned that Jane (Goldwin) Bandler is in Washington, D.C., at the Montessori Institute this winter. !916----Col. Jacob M. Pearce, Phoenix, Aw.. , September 19, 1974. 1967 1916-Col. Guy D. Thompson, Annapolis, Md., November 10, 1974. 1968 Bartholomew Lee paid us a visit in the Alumni Office early in the fall. Bart is now with the law firm of Frederick P. Furth in San Francisco, working "16-18 hours a day," and apparently enjoying every minute of it. 24 1972 After a year of accumulating graduate courses in chemistry and mathematics, T. Alex Lmvson (SF) has accepted a teaching assistant position with the chemistry department at Arizona State University. He is ultimate1y working toward a Ph.D. degree in organic chemistry. Ensign Dana E. Netherton is stationed aboard the U.S.S. Nathan Hale, a Poseidonclass nuclear submarine now undergoing overhaul at the Bremerton (Wash.) Naval Shipyard. A card from Susan (Kiralis) SI1ipman tells us that David entered the philosophy department of the University of North Carolina this fall, and that son Ezra Lee was one year old about the same time. 1973 Peter Fairbanks and his wife are living in \Vexham, Buckingharnshire, England, while he is an apprentice with Sotheby & Co., studying the "art trade." The Fairbankses found a "lovely red·brick orangery" to live in, and hope to stay put until late next summer. They see John Dean '70 frequently, and had a visit from Peter Squitieri during the summer. 111e Fairbanks's address in \Vexham is The Orangery, Langley Park. Another recent fellowship winner is Mark Jordan (SF), who has received a Richard M. Vleaver Fellowship, paying tuition and a stipend of $2,000 to a prospective university teacher committed to the liberal arts. Although the grant may be used at any university here or abroad, Mark has selected the University of Texas for his studies. In Memoriam guest preacher on Sunday, June 23rd, at St. Anne's Church in Annapolis was the Rev. \Villiam N. McKeaci1ie, the Diocesan Theologian of the Diocese of Toronto, Canada. Karen S. \Valker was schgduled to receive her B.S. degree in tropical agriculture in December from the University of Hawaii. Her pL1ns were then to go into graduate work in genetics. Information reaches us that Peter Blachly has become a Sikh, with a new name, Singh Sahib Sat Peter Singh. Peter plays guitar in, and manages, the Khalsa String Band. Shire Chaikin has been transferred from New Jersey to Colorado by his employer, TriChem, Inc. Shire heads a sales force of 1,100 women in Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico, and Texas. 1918-Dr. Charles L. Billingslea, Westminster, Md., October, 1974. 1920-Dr. Thomas P. Thompson, Aberdeen, Md. 1922-Heath D. Goldsborough, Severna Park, Md., November 27, 1974. 1922-Richard T. Porter, Salisbury, Md., September 24, 1974. 1925-Edward P. Tickey, West Haven, Conn., September 12, 1974. 1936----John D. Hampshire, Baltimore, Md., September 23, 1974. 1948-Dr. Thomas I-I. Blatt, Pikesville, Md., October 22, 1974. 1948-Alan S. Maremont, San Francisco, Cal., September 3, 1974. 1974-SF-Max Waite Ball, II, Santa\ J Fe, N.M., September, 1974. /. _ y Faculty (SF)-Ingeborg Loreni-- ta~i~:) Colorado Springs, Col., September 28, 1974. �NOMINATIONS FOR THE BOARD OF VISITORS AND GOVERNORS Next spring two vacancies will be created for alumni representatives on the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College with the expiration of the current terms of Dr. Eugene Cozzolino of the Class of 1929 and John D. Oosterhout of the Class of 1951. Dr. Cozzolino has asked that he not be nominated for a second term, and Mr. Oosterhout is ineligible for re-election, having served two consecutive terms. Accordingly, the directors of the Alumni Association, following procedures established by the Polity of the College and the Association By-Laws, have nominated James H. Frame of the Class of 1950 and William W. Simmons of the Class of 1948 to fill the positions being vacated by Messrs. Cozzolino and Oosterhout. Provision is also made in the Polity and By-Laws for nomination by petition of any thirty alumni. This year Jonathan D. Sinnreich of the Class of 1968 has been nominated by such a petition. The result of all this is that there are three nominees for the two vacancies mentioned above. (Their pictures and brief biographical sketches appear elsewhere on this page.) Thus an election must be conducted bv mail ballot, with the two nominees receiving the highes-t number of votes being considered elected. All alumni (graduates and former students whose classes have graduated) are eligible to vote. A ballot appears at the bottom of this page. Please vote for two alumni, no more, no less; the By-Laws provide that a vote for two of the candidates is required for validity. Detach and mail the ballot to me at St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, so as to reach me no later than March 15, 1974. The results of the balloting will be announced in the April issue of this magazme. Thomas Farran, Jr. Director of Alumni Relations Jim Frame is Director, Programming Development, L1nguage and Data Facilities, at IBM's System Development Division Programming Center, Palo Alto, Cal. Since he joined IBM in 1956 Jim has held a number of positions, including Programming Center Manager, Raleigh, N.C., and Programming Systems Manager at IBM's facility in Uithoorn, Netherlands. He is now responsible for programming development activities and languages related to data base I data communications prodFrame ucts. Jim, his wife Heloise (Albritton) and their seven children make their home in Los Altos Hills, Cal. Son Matthew is a graduate of the class of 1973 at St. John's, while daughter Margaret is a former member of the class of 1974. Bill Simmons is one of three brothers who attended St. John's. After graduation he attended the University of Virginia for a short period. He came back to Annapolis in 1950 to join Fawcett Boat Supplies, Inc., a marine supplier in the Chesapeake Bay area. Bill is currently vice president of the company which is headed by Richard H. Hutchings of the class of 1944. Bill is a member of several boating dubs and organizations, and has been active in a number of civic groups. He has served Simmons as treasurer of the St. John's Alumni Association. For the past two years Bill has been executive vice president of the Association. Bill and his wife Anne (McKay) live in Sevema Park, Md., and are the parents of two college·age offspring. Jon Sinnreich, after graduation in 1968, worked first as a junior high mathematics teacher, then as a technician with the Anne Arundel County (Md.) Office of Planning and Zoning. He entered the University of Virginia School of Law in 1970, and finished there in January, 1974. While in Charlottesville he managed a low-cost housing project, served as a consultant to the State Planning Subcommittee of the Virginia Legislature, and was a winter law clerk with the finn of Amold & Porter. Sinnreich Jon is now a litigation associate at Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison in New York City. lie and his wife, Masha (Zager) of the class of 1970, and their young son, Aram Arthur make their home in Manhattan. CUT ALONG THIS LINE BALLOT -ALUMNI REPRESENTATIVES BOARD OF VISITORS AND GOVERNORS I hereby cast my ballot for the two candidates indicated (a vote for two candidates is required to validate ballot): ) James H. Frame '50 _ _ _ _ __ Detach and mail to: Alumni Office William W. Simmons '48_____ St. John's College Annapolis, Md. 21404 Jonathan H. Sinnreich '68_ _ __ �SALUTE to The St. John's Review The first issue of a new student publication appeared on 18 November 1974. Its name, content, and editorial policy (especially the plan to compose future issues around single topics) are so promising that we would like to welcome it here. Our salute to this new journal is whole-hearted, though it comes with one auspicious and one drooping eye. The St. John's Review will make it even harder for The College to get contributions from students past and present. It is the failure of some students and alumni articles to reach me when they were needed that made us resort to J. S. Bach when we might have had something on mythological tapestries or an account of the route taken by Odysseus as recently sailed and seen by a St. John's student or, for that matter, the hoped-for responses to the Commence.. ment addresses of the summer issue. On the whole, however, the Review is not only going to be a good thing in itself but likely even to benefit The College: by printing interesting contributions and prompting others-perhaps even contributions for The College which are eagerly a\vaited. B.R.v.O. The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 24 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Development Offices of St. John's College Title A name given to the resource The College, January 1975 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-01 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Description An account of the resource Volume XXVI, Number 4 of The College. Published in January 1975. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_26_No_4_1975 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/9108566624a749dbfcedce1a46d9fe3e.pdf c7d9be36aa2fe37c1ae1fc7129a80095 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico Aprill975 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVII April, 1975 Number 1 JOHN SPANGLER KIEFFER ON THE COVER: John Kieffer died on March 29, 1975. Editor: Beale Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Robert S. Zelenka, Elliott Zuckerman. THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Director of College Relations. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland and at other mailing places. In the death of John Kieffer all of us at St. John's College have lost a challenging teacher, a committed scholar of the Classics, a respected colleague, and a warm friend. To his widow, Roxana Kieffer, we extend our heartfelt sympathy and our prayers. John Kieffer joined the St. John's Faculty in the fall of 1929 as an Instructor in Classics. A native of Hagerstown, Maryland, he had graduated cum laude from Harvard College in 1927 and earned his master's degree there two years later. His Ph.D degree he subsequently received from The Johns Hopkins University, having written on "Galen's Introduction to Logic." His principal professor at Harvard spoke highly of him and accurately predicted, "I think he will do good work." When the present program was introduced in 1937, John Kieffer was one of those who made the successful transition and came to teach in all parts of the new curriculum. It was a tribute to the respect in which he was held that the Instruction Committee recommended that he become President in 1947. The Board of Visitors and Governors unanimously concurred and noted in the public announcement that he had been "one of the major factors in establishing and developing the program at the College." Over the 46 years of John Kieffer's dedicated service to St. John's College he has filled a wide range of positions, always with distinction, with unselfishness, and with humility-President, Visitor and Governor, Dean, Assistant Dean, Director of Adult Education, Leader of the European Seminar, Director of the Summer Freshmen, and, last but most important, Tutor. The scroll pre· sented to him in June of 1969 best describes him in its concluding sentences: As Dean, over the past seven years, he has held the program steady on its course. As scholar he is erudite and precise. As Socratic teacher, he has led ten generations of students to love learning. This man of calm dignity has always been passionate in his love of the Greeks, of the Good, and of St. John's College. Richard D. Weigle President IN THE APRIL ISSUE: The Perfections of Jane Austen, by Eva Brann ..... . 1 The Odyssey of the "Cresta," by Kimo Mackey ......... . Picture Credits: Pages 15-17, Kimo Mackey, Don Goff; page 19, Tom Parran. 15 Campus-Alumni News 18 �The Perfections of Jane Austen By Eva Brann I. The immediate occasion for this attempt to speak about Jane Austen is the two-hundredth anniversary of her birth: she was born on December 16, 1775. Since this lecture is a labor of love, I shall not scruple to enhance its legitimacy by adducing documentary proof that there exists an old tradition of offering transatlantic tributes to Jane Austen. In 1852 a female member of the distinguished Quincy family of Boston wrote as follows to one of Jane Austen's naval brothers, Sir Francis Austen: Since high critical authority has pronounced the delineations of character in the works of Jane Austen second only to those of Shakespeare, transatlantic admiration appears superfluous; yet it may not be uninteresting to her family to receive an assurance that the influence of her genius is extensively recognized in the American Republic, even by the highest judicial authorities. The late Chief Justice Marshall of the Supreme Court of the United States, and his associate Mr. Justice Story, highly estimated and admired Miss Austen, and to them we owe our introduction to her society. Jane Austen would have loved this. manifesto, and would have declaimed it joyfully to her family. I am much afraid she would have done the same to this lecture. II. The American letter is taken from the Memoir of Jane Austen which was written in old age by her nephew, James Edward Austen-Leigh. Since he had actually known his aunt as a boy, his memoir is the leading account of her life, while its main source is the collection of letters she herself wrote to members of the family, particularly to her sister Cassandra. Cassandra Austen was the only person to whom she revealed the plots of her novels before publication, at least until late in her life, when her favorite niece Fanny Knight was inducted into that merry conspiracy. These writings and others have been woven into a tactful, perceptive and therefore profitable biography by Elizabeth Jenkins. Beyond that, the study of Jane Austen's life is a pleasantly interminable but superfluous labor, because so much and yet so little is known. This is what we do know: that she admitted no torments of the soul, was not afflicted with epileptic seizures, extruded no devils, committed not sins of the flesh and undertook no expiations of the spirit (I mention these negative occurrences because they appear to have been of importance in the lives of other novelists). Instead, she confesses in a letter of Monday night, December 24, 1798, that "there were twenty dances and I danced them all." On Wednesday, May 6, 1801 she writes: Mrs. Mussell has got my gown, and I will endeavor to explain what her intentions are. It is to be a round gown, with a jacket and a frock front, like Cath. Bigg's, to open at the side. The jacket is all in one body and comes as far as the pocket holes .... 1 �The College This description continues, too expertly for my compre- closest to Jane Austen, of all that part of the correspond- hension, over a page. ence which we might term "really interesting" and to The family griefs, on the other hand, are not dwelled on so extensively in her letters-they are to be borne with an effort to be "tranquil and resigned." Nor does her novel-writing add much external incident to her life. She appeared on the title page of her novels merely as "a Lady" and preserved her anonymity as long as the proud London brother who acted as her agent would permit it. Not that she considered her writing a mere avocation-she repeatedly referred to a novel in progress as her child, her "darling child." She simply shunned publicity, preferring with wicked glee to collect the candid reviews aired by unsuspecting neighbors. She steadfastly abstained from entering the literary circles of London and even refused an invitation to meet Madame de Stael. In the portentous sense of the word, she had no "Life." This view agrees with the judgement made by her nephew in a postscript to his Memoir. He says: which we would claim access in the interests of historical research and the public's right to know. By destroying, without asking anyone's leave or advice, all the letters to herself touching intimate matters, Cassandra Austen has drawn a noble and fitting moat of silence about her sister's life, incidentally teaching her readers also to make a proper distinction between their writer's private affairs and her intentionally public works. That distinction is particularly called for by Jane Austen's own private delicacy and literary discretion. She would, of course, never have had so unfeelingly profiteering a heart as to write a sister's suicide (had such a thing occurred) into a novel-a thing done by a German novelist of this century-for she did not even use innocuous incidents in an unaltered form. The only clearly identifiable actual occurrence I know of is the present of an amber cross which midshipman WaJiam Price makes to his sister Fanny in Mansfield Park. Jane Austen's own young naval brother, Lieutenant Charles, had once generously laid out part of some prize-money in a topaz cross for each sister, and he had even added a gold chain, which extravagance William cannot match-a circumstance important to the story. So much the more are the important incidents of her life either subverted or muted or transmuted. It is known that she was once engaged over-night to a very respectable gentleman and that she broke off the engagement after a brief agony. No such occasion occurs in the novels. It is known that she herself was devout, but references to faith in her works are rare and measured. And finally, it The grave closed over my aunt fifty-two years ago; and during that long period no idea of writing her life had been entertained by any of her family. Her nearest relations, far from making provisions for such a purpose, had actually destroyed many of the letters and papers by which it might have been facilitated. They were influenced, I believe, partly by an extreme dislike to publishing private details, and partly by never having assumed that the world would take so strong and abiding an interest in her works as to claim her name as public property. It was therefore necessary for me to draw upon recollections rather than on written documents for my materials; while the subject itself supplied me with nothing striking or prominent with which to arrest the attention of the reader. It has been said that the happiest individuals, like nations during the happiest period, have no history. In the case of my aunt, it was not only that the course of her life was unvaried, but that her own disposition was remarkably calm and even. There was in her nothing eccentric or angular; no ruggedness of temper; no singularity of manner; none of the marked sensibility or exaggeration of feeling, which not infrequently accompanies great talents, to be worked up into a picture. Hers was a mind wellbalanced on a basis of good sense, sweetened by an affectionate heart, and regulated by fixed principles; so that she was to be distinguished from many other amiable and sensible women only by that peculiar genius which shines out clearly enough in her works, but of which a biographer can make little use. A deeply gratifying item in this summary is the news of the destruction by Cassandra Austen, the person always 2 is known, from a brief break in Cassandra Austen's re- serve, occasioned by the sudden death of a young man who had reawakened the episode for her, that there had once been a suitor whom Jane Austen would have accepted had he not suddenly died. But in exactly what way such a loss might make itself felt in the novels is a matter on which it is as futile to present public conjectures as it is natural to entertain private certainties. Without denying for a moment that her views and her situation inform her novels most felicitously, I conclude that they contain nothing strictly "autobiographical." I therefore pass on to the works themselves. III. Jane Austen wrote a perfect number of perfect novels. In the probable order of her last attention to them these six are: N orthanger Abbey, Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, and Persuasion. Their perfection, which I shall treat as given, presents at once an invitation and a difficulty. Devoted novel readers know that their attention is ever divided between the talc and their delight in its telling. And so, while reading, I find myself continually forming the question: �April, 1975 just what is so wonderful here? What is the essence of this perfection? But here arises the difficulty: it appears to be the nature of perfect works that they have no crevices by which to force an entry. Ordinarily in dealing with an ostensibly truth-telling text we bustle into it, we expound, expose, penetrate to something carefully secreted, decently hidden, unintended, or false. I wonder whether such burrowing is ever quite in harmony with the author's hopes, except perhaps in the case of the Platonic dialogues. At any rate, confronted with these novels and ashamed to force unseemly entries, I am driven to the thought that their kind of perfection is impenetrable and has no obscure depth; that it presents a smooth, continuous plane, which is not a surface be~ cause it has no hidden center. These works repel interpretative assault, whether it is attempted through a long siege of cyclical reading or in a straight dash through the six. And yet there is no escaping the insistent desire to lay hold of the essence of those novels, a desire which is really the wish to capture and fix their pleasure by an adequate reflection on its cause. But since a penetration of the novels seems to be a doomed undertaking-their essence apparently being that they have none-I thought I might satisfy myself by attempting merely to articulate and itemize the various perfections and felicities which make the novels what they are. IV. Before I begin this attempt, I would like to present two negative results. Perfection is sometimes said to consist in a certain complete rightness for the purpose, in a totally unaccidental and unique appropriateness. Now the names in Jane Austen's novels are frequently felt to be perfect, but Jane Austen often found them by accident and never simply invented them. Wickham and Willoughby, for instance, the two wicked-sounding villains of Pride and Pre;udice and Sense and Sensibility, and the hard little Lucy Steele are named from tombstones and a marriage announcement that happened to have come to the author's notice. She never permits herself an explicit "speaking name," such as the "Lydia Languish" or "Mrs. Malaprop" of Sheridan's Rivals (a popular play in the Austen household). At most there are place-names like "Merytown," where the gay red-coats are quartered in Pride and Preiudice, and "Donwell Abbey" as well as "Hartfield" in Emma. The latter is a true punning name (the only one of which I know in all the novels), for Emma says of her home that ... there does seem to be something in the air of Hartfield which gives love exactly the right direction .... Furthermore, practically all the names of her heroinesEmma, Fanny, Catherine-already occur in her early works attached to quite different characters. So also do her male surnames, while the first names are often indiscriminately borrowed from her brothers-Edmund, Henry, James, Charles. Therefore, whatever it may be that makes her names so right, it is not that they are uniquely appropriate, but rather the same thing that makes our own names so rightly ours. My second negative conclusion is that the understanding of what is perfect as that which could not be otherwise cannot apply. My evidence is the case of the last chapter of Jane Austen's last book, Persuasion. She had gone to bed one night dissatisfied to the point of depression with the climactic tenth chapter. On the next day she found herself able to write anew the crucial scene in which Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot finally resume their long-interrupted intimacy. The cancelled chapter was preserved and is reprinted in the Memoir. Retrospectively nothing is more obvious than the superiority of her second resolution. Captain Wentworth now approaches Anne not as the result of a gratuitous intervention on the part of a really nice man, but because he has overheard a conversation between Anne and a brother officer on the very question of the book-whether in constancy and the ability to sustain long-lived love, women in fact excel men. Furthermore, Anne now undergoes the "revolution" in her condition not in comfortable privacy but under the intensifying restraint of a hotel room swarming with friends. Yet I must reckon with the likelihood that, had I known only the first version, I would have thought it all it ought to be. I must conclude that it is not part of the perfection of Jane Austen's writing that it could not be otherwise, but only that we can think of no way to improve it, just as are the arrangements of nature beyond our own invention. v. Let me, then, go on to the enumeration of her perfections. It will include some items concerned with her matter and others with her form, and cutting across this distinction, some items dealing with what she is given and others with what she herself makes. It is, of course, this very harmonious fitting of setting and talent, matter and form, which distinguishes her novels. The felicity of the fit is displayed in the irrelevance to Jane Austen of the romantic pair "conventional~uncon-. ventional" -neither are in the least appropriate to her accepting detachment from society. Surely here, if anywhere, is repeated the case of Themistocles as told in the Republic: He was abused by a nobody from Seriphus, who claimed that Themistocles had become illustrious not thanks to himself but to his city; Themistocles replied that, had he been from Seriphus, he would indeed have failed to make a name for himself and had his critic been from Athens he would have remained equally obscure. So also with Jane Austen and her setting, the English countryside. But this story and its application point to a great puzzle which I have not 3 �The College come near enough to resolving in the observations that follow: how is it that a result which requires so happy a concourse of circumstances should yet appear as a standard of excellence? one who knows enough of happiness to prefer it to other states. VI. But there is also a more strictly novelistic, I hesitate to say, compositional, reason for her choice of this one universal ending. All the novels are essentially about young women. The youngest heroine, Fanny Price of Mansfield Park, comes on the scene when she is ten, though she does not stay ten for long, since, as Jane Austen observed in a letter, "One does not care for girls till thei are grown up." The oldest is Anne Elliot of Persuasion, who passes from a faded twenty-seven to a blooming, engaged twenty-eight in the course of the novel. Except for Emma, whose whole behavior marks her as having no sibling, an the women bear themselves very much as sisters-their characters are formed by and displayed in sisterly affection. These young women develop an attachment to a man; it is reciprocated. Internal and external difficulties intervene; there is demonstrative or silent suffering fully reported, the former with somewhat checked sympathy, the latter with warm admiration. (It should be noted here that this authoress never pretends to describe the inner life of the men as she does that of her women.) Then, shortly before the close of the story, the young woman briefly vanishes, usually into the spacious seclusion of a shrubbery or a promenade. For crucial deolarations are made and received in privacy, and though the woman's response is shaped by her breeding, it is not a part of social intercourse. Her answer is therefore at most reported indirectly, as in Emma: ll1e first of my articulable felicities is the circumstance that there is one and only one outcome for all the novels -marriage. Not that courtship and marriage are the theme of the novels; properly speaking, they do not have "themes," since they are not about notions but about people, albeit people with characters. Of the three novels whose titles might appear to show otherwise, one, Pride and Prejudice, was an irresistible phrase borrowed from Jane Austen's predecessor, Fanny Burney; the second, Sense and Sensibility, was originally named after the heroines, "Elinor and Marianne," and Persuasion was named posthumously by her brother. What I mean is rather that each novel in fact ends in one, two or three marriages, not to speak of the underheroines' alliances which occur on the way, or those catastrophic counterparts of legitimate unions, forced marriages after elopement. This singleness of story is a source of perfection first because it excludes all exotic scenes or violent action. Instead it fixes our interest on the course, in all its subtle possibilities, of a small but essential part of human affairs -on the settling of a woman for life. It stands to reason that the perfection of subtlety requires a standard plot concerning an unspectacular but crucial human event. A second happy aspect of this choice of matter is that under Jane Austen's management it causes every novel to end happily. For example, here is the ending of Emma; Mrs. Elton, an ill-disposed commentator, begins: Very little white satin, very few lace veils; a most pitiful business! . . .'-But in spite of these deficiencies, the wishes, the hopes, the confidences, the predictions of the small band of true friends who witnessed the ceremony, were fnlly answered in the perfect happiness of the union. Jane Austen never, except in fun, entertained the romantic notion that the pleasure of the reader or the gravity of the novel could be increased by providing a spuriously disastrous conclusion, such as Charlotte Bronte gave her novel Villette. That otherwise wonderful work ends with a doom-laden paragraph strongly suggesting that Lucy Snowe's husband-to-be is lost at sea, leaving her with the chilly consolation of a going girls' school. Jane Austen, on the other hand, knows what the angels know-that happiness is more worthy of note than unhappiness. And since she has it in her novelist's power to make a second world, she chooses, with golden rationality, to make it a happy world, and, with sparkling invention, an absorbing one. Of course, she presupposes a sensible reader-! mean 4 VII. What did she say? Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.-She said enough to show there need not be despair-and to invite him to say more himself. Consequently, in an opus entirely about the coming together of women with men, no one ever quite enunciates the words "I love you." The engagement is announced, loose ends are tied up, the union is brought about, and with a prognostication of their future happiness, explicitly including the continuation of the sisterly bond, the heroines are finally dismissed from view. This pattern follows from the facts of life, as well as from the demands of fiction. The getting or foregoing of a husband is the great hazard in a woman's life, the greatest occasion for an exercise of sensibility and an exertion of sense. The early twenties, the very period in life, according to Jane Austen, "for the strongest attachments to be formed," therefore contain the moment when she is most alive-when she most has the principle of motion within herself. That is by no means to say that life is over when the era of courtship ends-a very unlikely view for an unmar- �April, 1975 ried woman who regarded the single woman's "dreadful propensity for being poor" as among the strongest arguments for matrimony, and who allows her Emma this rejoinder to a young friend who exclaims: ' ... you will be an old maid, and that's so dreadful!' 'Never mind, Harriet, I shall not be a poor old maid, and it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public!' On the contrary, the busy tranquility and solid comfort which constitute continuous happiness begin exactly when a woman is settled, one way or another, for life. There are in the novels nnmerous satisfying descriptions of sedate marital existences and comfortably confirmed spinsterhoods. Later life has lost just one property, which is clearly described in a letter Jane Austen wrote to Fanny Knight: Ah! what a loss it will be when you are married. You are too agreeable in your single state, too agreeable as a Neice. I shall hate you when your delicious play of mind is all settled down into conjugal and maternal affections. What is lost is the liveliness, the inner motion of the girl. "Marriage is a great improver," Jane Austen drily observes in a letter, because it fixes the feelings and makes fast the character. (The confirmation of her view is to be found in the fifty pages which constitute the "peace" part of War and Peace, in the dowdy bliss of the miraculous "First Epilogue.") Now a person whose inner motion has been damped, who displays a settled mind and steady sentiments, is a comic character, in the six novels, and in life. The young heroines are sometimes themselves witty, and often provoke an affectionate smile, but they are not comic, while all the old married couples and spinsters are, for all their virtues, or even because of them, comic-I mean, comical. What makes them so is that they are quite literally, "creatures of habit." For their nature is not so much a spring of fresh life as a source of self-reproduction. (A view of gig, comfortably conversing the while, and such is the old sailor's handling of the craft that Mrs. Croft has to intervene: 'My dear admiral, that post!-we shall certainly take that post!' But by cooly giving the reins a better direction herself, they happily passed the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting out her hand, they neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dungcart; and Anne, with some amusement at their style of driving, which she imagined no bad representation of the general guidance of their affairs, found herself safely deposited by them at the cottage. The happy consequence, then, of the arrangement by which the heroines pass out of view with marriage, is that each novel has a foreground of liveliness against a background of life; each novel contains two perfectly perspicuous kinds of imitation, one of living character and the other of completed "characters." However, it should be noted that these "characters" too have a dignity, which derives from the intimations we are given that their lives have roots and ramifications not properly included in a novel. the comic as a "mechanical inelasticity" and "fundamental absentmindedness" of the living soul, which almost fits the case, is to be found in Henri Bergson's essay "Laughter.") They (I could say "we") seem to mimic their own settled selves; all their activity has turned into "behavior," a kind of deliciously petrified self-expression. They have practiced being themselves so long that it comes by habit. T11ey live through a recogniza"ble ritual which feeds the human delight in identifying images. By so escaping their own notice such beings particularly invite fascinated observation; their well-bred absurdities embellish the world like elegant arabesques. A prime example of this mode of being is found in the most happily married of all the married couples, Admiral and Mrs. Croft in Persuasion. They are out driving their VIII. Nothing can be clearer than this-the novels are themselves imitations of life and contain imitations of humap beings, especially of human beings in society, conversing. No symbols, metaphors, mere patterns, or levels of abstraction are to be found in them nor do the figures in them "exist only within the context of the work." Certainly there are revelations, correspondences, significances. But nothing is ever there for mere form's sake or to sug_gest or stand for something else-which is why the novels so repel literary criticism. The evidence for the latter claim, that the novels contain near~animate humans, is in the after-life her creatures were allowed to lead. Her family knew things about her 5 �The College people which were not in the books, and this shows that their lives extended beyond their published stories. They knew that the "considerable sum" given by the horrible Mrs. Norris to William Price was all of one pound, that Kitty Bennet married a clergyman near Pemberly, and that the inconvenient Mr. Woodhouse died two years exactly catches Aristotle's distinction between history and poetry-the former tells what did and the latter what might believably happen. after Emma's marriage. In a letter to her sister, Jane While the young women are very much her creaturesbecause they are both most her own inventions and yet most their own women-her older characters are much more apt to be imitations of types living about her. It is a wonder that this extraordinary woman could observe, without interfering in the least, the settled idiosyncracies of her very ordinary neighbours. But in fact many of her own epistolary accounts of local society could go straight into a novel, as for example this passage: Austen pretends that she saw a portrait of Mrs. Bingley, the former Jane Bennet, at a London exhibition of Sir Joshua Reynolds' paintings, and that Mr. Darcy would not let his wife Elizabeth's likeness be exposed to the public eye. The Pygmalion-like fondness she has for her own girls again shows how near alive they are: her sudden reference to "My Fanny" in the last chapter of Mansfield Park, her fear that no one will like Emma but herself, her appreciation of Elizabeth Bennet, of whom she writes in a letter that I must confess that I think her as delightful a creature as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her at least I do not know. That the novels are indeed intended to be accurate imitations of English life is shown by Jane Austen's meticulous correctness concerning details. For example, she writes to her sister about a passage in Mansfield Park: I have learned from Sir J. Carr that there is no Government House at Gibraltar. I must alter it to the Commissioner's. What is apparently the only real error of fact in her works was caught by her farming brother who writes: I should like to know, Jane, where you get those apple trees of yours to blossom in July? And her careful criticisms of her writing nieces' early attempts almost always turn about matters of accuracy, probability, and consistency. So she writes: A woman, going with two girls just growing up, into a Neighborhood where she knows nobody but one Man, of not very good character, is an awkwardness which so prudent a woman as Mrs. F. would not be likely to fall into. Remember, she is very prudent; you must not let her act inconsistently. Or: ... and I have sc.ratched out Sir Tiw: from walking with the other Men to the Stables, etc. the very day after his breaking his arm-for though I find that your papa did walk out immediately after his arm was set, I think it can be so little usual as to appear unnatural in a book. In this requirement of "nature and probability" she 6 IX. Poor Mrs. Stent: It has been her lot to be always in the way; but we must be merciful, for perhaps in time we may come to be Mrs. Stents ourselves, unequal to anything and unwelcome to everybody. Or this description of a difficult brother's visit: I am sorry and angry that his visits should I)Ot give more pleasure; the company of so good and so clever a Man ought to be gratifying in itself; but his chat seems all forced, his Opinions on many points too much copied from his wife's and his time here is spent I think in walking about the House and banging the doors, or ringing the bell for a glass of water. What she does for the comic characters she finds about her is to accord them the saving grace of a merciful screening, by means of which she filters out the infuriating aspects of those incessant performances, like continual door-banging and ineffectual fussing, to which creatures of habit are given. So is irritating fact transformed into delicious fiction, and the lovableness of fully fixed humankind acknowledged. A luxurious license of selection, or rather of exclusion, is in fact close to the essence of Jane Austen's imitative art. Let me give a survey of the omissions which define her copy of the world. First, the large universe and its embroilments are not allowed to intrude into it. There is no place in her world for foreign parts or big cities, although her information was by no means parochial. Italy and France are only mentioned as the romantic setting for the gothic novels she loved to caricature; Ireland is a comic place of exile, London a way station for elopement. Politics is utterly absent although the Austen household was by no means isolated-no one talks politics in the novels, partly because merely ma•le conversation is rare. The only reference to a burning issue occurs in the following preposterous form in Emma. In warding off the officious exertions Mrs. Elton insists on making through her connection, �April, 1975 Mr. Suckling, Jane Fairfax, who finds herself obliged to seek a position as governess, says: if it could be had; if not, of solemn specious nonsense, about something unconnected with the 'There are places in town, offices, where inquiry Scott, or a history of Buonaparte, or anything that would form a contrast and bring the reader with increased delight to the playfulness and epigrammatism of the general style. I doubt your quite agreeing with me here. I know your starched would soon produce something. Offices for salenot quite of human flesh-but of human intellect!' 'Oh! my dear, human flesh! You quite shock me; if you mean a fling at the slave trade; I assure you, Mr. Suckling was always rather a friend to the abolition!' Nor is there any mention of the French Revolution, although a close relation had lost her husband in the Terror; nor of the Napoleonic Wars, although she had brothers who were line officers in the British navy; nor of the War of 1812, although she reports in her letters this grimly intelligent assessment of that conflict by one of her brothers: His view, and the view of those he mixes with, of Politics, is not chearful-with regard to the American war I mean; We are to make them good sailors and soldiers and gain nothing ourselves. Music and poetry, on the other hand, both of which she both appreciated and herself plied, do play a role in the novels, albeit a most peculiar one, because displays of art appreciation are always slightly funny and references in works of art to works of art slightly doubtful. Jane Austen had her reservations about the cultivation or display of fine sensibilities. So music is celebrated chiefly in the social function of masking conversation. In Sense and Sensibility embarrassing confidences are imparted to Elinor by Lucy Steele, while Marianne was giving them the powerful protection of a very magnificent concerto. And poetry in large doses is regarded as mildly deplorable -it is slyly said of Captain Benwick, a romantic young man in Persuasion, who grieves for his dead bride with more sensibility than constancy, that He was evidently a young man of considerable taste in reading, though principally poetry.... so that Anne ventured to hope that he does not always read only poetry; and to say, that she thought it was the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; .... Nor do the novels contain anything but mock descriptions of history, criticism or morality. She exuberantly wrote to her sister of Pride and Pre;udice: The work is rather too light, and bright, and sparkling; it wants shade; it wants to be stretched out here and there with a long chapter of sense, story; an essay on writing, a critique on Walter notions. And it goes without saying that the novels are devoid of any reference to philosophy; it is among Jane Austen's perfections that she foists no inquiries into being on her characters-a ridiculous task for images to undertake, except in rare cases. She herself explained these omissions in her novels on an occasion which clearly caused her unholy joy. The Regent, an admirer of her novels, had asked his librarian, the Reverend J. S. Clarke, to invite her to inspect his library. A correspondence ensued. Mr. Clarke had suggested that she should write a novel about an English clergyman, including a disquisition on the benefits of taking away tithes (of which he himself was ardently persuaded), and a description of the clergyman having to bury his own mother because the High Priest of the parish failed to pay her remains the proper respect (which had been his very experience). Miss Austen's response was the hilarious "Plan of a Novel, according to hints from various quarters," in which the heroine's father is indeed involved. in many interesting situations, concluding with his opinion of the Benefits to result from Tythes being done away, and his having buried his own mother ... etc. This plan was a wicked performance which she kept to herself. Instead she wrote the man a very forbearing letter declining the charge laid on her with the following explanation: The comic part of the character I might be equal to, but not the good, the enthusiastic, the literary. Such a man's conversation must at times be on subjects of science and philosophy, of which I know nothing; or at least be occasionally abundant in quotations and allusions which a woman 1 who like me, knows only her mother tongue, and has read very little in that, would be totally without power of giving. A classical education or at any rate, a very extensive acquaintance with English literature, ancient and modern, appears to me quite indispensable for the person who would do justice to your clergyman. And I think I may boast myself to be, with all possible vanity, the most unlearned female who, ever dared to be an authoress. 7 �The College Now this is very much exaggerated-she read French and Italian and had read extensively in English. But it shows her scrupulous demand for the verity which comes from first-hand knowledge. The very criticism of the poets which Socrates makes in the Ion, that they never, beyond hearsay, really know whereof they sing, is emphatically refuted in her novels-she knew her world; she had constructed it in accordance with her limitations and aversions. This is the exclusionary aspect of her scale. X. But as she omits what is alien, so she elects what is close, and with relish. In a letter to one of her young writing nephews she refers to two mysteriously missing chapters of the novel he is currently composing and defends herself against any suspicion of having purloined them: What should I do with your strong, manly, spirited sketches, full of variety and glow. How could I possibly join them on to the little bit (two inches wide) of Ivory I work with so fine a Brush, as produces little effect after much labor. This bit of banter shows how deliberate her choice of scale is; a letter to a writing niece shows how happy she is in that confinement: You are now collecting your People delightfully, getting them exactly into such a spot as is the delight of my life. 3 or 4 families in a country village is the very thing to work on. A thoroughly known, small closed setting is the source of delight. XI. Now this small world is a distillation of her own surroundings, the countryside and its families, "nature" and human beings. Jane Austen loved landscapes; a lovely landscape she thought was like a paradise. But in her novels landscapes make very peculiar paradises. One of the Austen family's favorite poets was Cowper, from whose poem "The Sofa" came these applicable lines: God made the country, and man made the town. In the novels God's work is carried through by gentlemen who own and improve estates. For all her landscapes are prospects of improved estates. For instance, in Emma, the sight of Mr. Knightley's Donwell Abbey and his tenant farmer's Abbey Mill, both well-managed places, makes her exclaim: It was a sweet view-sweet to the eye and the 8 mind. English verdure, English culture, English comfort. ... Neither arc her vistas the enchanted idyllic pastorals of, say, Tom Jones (incidentally, a favorite with the Austens), nor does she endow unimproved mere nature with senti- ment. So Elinor squelches Marianne's laments about having no one with whom to share her autumnal transports by the brisk observation that It is not every one ... who has your passion for dead leaves. On only three occasions, I believe, is English verdure replaced by English water: at the sea resort of Lyme Regis in Persuasion, at Sanditon spa, the setting of her last unfinished novel, and in the Portsmouth scene of Mansfield Park. I have often wondered what might be the continual source of the exhilaration in this last setting, which is as sordid as anything in the novels can be, with its stifling sickly town sun serving only to bring out the stains left on the wall by Mr. Price's head. When Fanny Price arrives to visit her own family after an absence of a decade, the house is in more than its usual disorder; no one attends to her, everyone is hallooing the news that her brother's ship "the Thrush has gone out of harbour," until she nearly faints. But in compensation there is a description of the harbour to make the heart, especially a sailing heart, leap: The day was uncommonly lovely. It was really March; but it was April in its mild air, brisk soft wind, and bright sun, occasionally clouded for a minute; and everything looked so beautiful under the influence of such a sky, the effects of the shadows pursuing each other, on the ships at Spithead acnd the island beyond, with the ever-varying hues of the sea now at high water, dancing in its glee and dashing against the ramparts with so fine a sound, produced altogether such a combination of charms for Fanny, as made her gradually almost careless of the circumstances under which she felt them. But I think the real reason for the acute charm of Portsmouth is Mansfield Park itself. There is significance in the fact that Mansfield Park is the only novel Jane Austen herself named after a place. Behind the indoor squalor and the naval beauty of Portsmouth there is the secure tranquility of Fanny's real and longed-for home, the park, at whose still, almost torpid, center sits Lady Bertram on her sofa, a sort of serene English version of Oblomov, the Russian hero who never leaves his couch. 'I11e exhilaration of Fanny's temporary place of exile, is, like most contented excitement, grounded in the ever-present recollection of a well-ordered home. �April, 1975 XII. This very gleeful sobriety by which a lovely landscape appears simultaneously as a profitable property is to me the most delicious of Jane Austen's felicities. The scanda· lous fact of the matter is that a number of heroines first see their future husbands in the light of eligibility while viewing their estates. It is true of Emma, of Fanny, of Catherine, and, most candidly, of Elizabeth, whose pride and prejudice against Darcy are shaken by her visit to his estate: She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or whose natural beauty had been so little counter-acted by an awkward taste .... at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberly might be something. And she playfully asserts to her sister that her love for Darcy dates from her first seeing his beautiful grounds. This perfect identity of romance and real estate, this unembarrassed transition from sentiment to sober assess- ment which the young women are permitted to display in the novels, as any sensible young women would in life, is. the essence of what causes content in them: the perfect coincidence of sense and sensibility. In the same spirit money plays a great role. Jane Austen's fervent conviction, expressed to her favorite niece Fanny who repeatedly consulted her modest and understanding aunt on marital questions, was that: Anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection. Nonetheless, the presence of money determines the pas· sibility and confirms the rightness of a projected marriage; a decent competence is its minimal requirement, while a good fortune is very desirable. What everyone "has" is the frequent object of notice and speculation-whether it is an insufficient pittance of 350 pounds, such as neither Edmund nor Elinor are "quite enough in love" to think "would supply them with the comforts of life," or a fine fortune of 30,000 pounds yielding 2500 a year. Jane Austen displays the same sobriety in life when she writes about her books: People are more ready to borrow and praise than to buy-which I cannot wonder at; but tho' I like praise as well as anybody, I like what Edward calls pewter too. Giddy and showy people may care about carriages, as does silly Mrs. Elton who manages to introduce into one short conversation four references to the barouche-landau (the Cadillac of carriages) owned by her relations. But solid, trustworthy people, in the novels as in life, require a sufficiency of money, and the ending of no novel leaves me so comfortable as the cool conclusion of Mansfield Park: With so much true merit and true love, and no want of fortune or friends, the happiness of the cousins must appear as secure as earthly happiness can be.-Equally formed for domestic life and attached to country pleasures, their home was the home of affection and comfort; and to complete the picture of good, the acquisition of Mansfield living by the death of Mr. Grant, occurred just after they had been married long enough to begin to want an increase of income . ... The comedy of the novels is well complemented by a practicality which admits that the death of an unloved character may serve to complete "the picture of good." XIII. From her external world let me pass to the moral world she imitates, the world to whose conduct and virtue, manners and morals, she and her sister and her family :md her neighbourhood were bred. We must be grateful to it for being a dignified and shapely world, whose favorite epithets convey a sense of clarity concerning what is worthy and unworthy-a world in which the words "comfort" and ''consequence" and "connections," in all their sedate rationality, have a clear reference; where a well-considered outing is termed an "eligible scheme"; where considerate people act "upon a system"; a quiet evening spent in talk is "conversible"; and "the rational pleasures of an elegant society" are highly valued. Although the novels are devoid of even the slightest didactic taint, they do teach-if nothing else the shape and ways of one integral world. To keep this world plausible she exercises her most admirable restraints. She admits nothing very vicious and nothing very violent, for most novel-reader's lives are not directly determined by such things, whatever hyperbolic spirits may claim. Her unpublished and unfinished works are, to be sure, significantly more pungent than those she released. Her very early sketches contain burlesque murders, the heroine of a short later novel which she withheld from publication, Lady Susan, is unprincipled, hypocritical, scheming, crude, and cruel, and the fragmentary novel The Watsons may have remained so precisely because it promised to become too sordid. But her published works deal only with domesticated vices and with venial sins whose punishment is simply exile from her worldwitness the beginning of the last chapter in Mansfield Park: Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody, not greatly at fault themselves, to tolerable comfort, and to have done with the rest. 9 �The College Nonetheless, within her scope, there is clear wrong as well as right, and a diction to match-lucidly determined in condemning and sweetly reasonable in condoning. And since it is the most universal and necessary of social activi~ ties to pass judgement on others, while she thinks too much of her characters not to judge their actions as she would her own, they are all disapproved or approved. She never withholds judgement from her own creatures since she knows firmly what romantic ironists later obscured: that in fiction vices not condemned are celebrated. But it should be said that she always assigns to her people some saving graces, and, more importantly, some saving flaws-for she writes to her niece: ... pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked. XIV. Now the chief flaws of manner, disposition and prin· ciple which she admits are reserve (that is, a mean lack of openness), ill·breeding, love of change and restlessness (said to be the consequence of vanity and extravagance) and its attendant irregularity of life, unfeeling cold· heartedness, inconsiderateness, indelicacy and finally, ir- rationality. The virtues are of course everything opposite. For them there is a vocabulary of excellence which wins at least my deepest accord. It contains terms like integrity, candour (meaning a well-disposed receptivity) and clusters like "goodnatured, useful, considerate, or benevolent." It expects that a woman know how to govern her feelings and be "acquainted with herself" (that is, that she have selfcontrol and self-knowledge), and first and last, that she be "rational," that is, in accord with her principles. In sum, it requires her to be at once amiable and well· principled, terms which in conjunction curiously well describe the womanly English equivalent of the Greek kalos kagathos, the generous and upright man. "Amiable," which is in Emma contrasted with French "aimable," agreeable, is defined there as an "English delicacy towards the feelings of other people," uncondescending graciousness. As for principles, 11active principles"-these are the common maxims of moral action, and not in want of articulation, certainly not in a novel, which is no place for an inquiry into virtue. There are moments, as in the following passage from Mansfield Park, when Jane Austen comes close to enunciating them, only to glide away after all: Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name, but when he talked of her as having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honor, 10 and such an observance of decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well· principled and religious. The ladies and gentlemen of her novels do not reflect on principles within them, and neither does she. Nonetheless, although unarticulated, they are the basis of all active excellence. Those who are good by mere disposition or habit are slightly comical, like the kindhearted, fluttery Miss Bates, or the ever-cheerful, arthritic Mrs. Smith, whose "disposition to be comforted" is termed "the choicest gift of Heaven" with the same slight irony that a similar phrase always has in Socrates' mouth. Such a disposition is quite distinct from that principled resignation in the face of unavoidable sorrows which gives her young women such dignity. The acquisition of good principles requires both the faculty Jane Austen calls "understanding" and "instruc· tion:" Nature gave you understanding:-Miss Taylor gave you principles, Mr. Knightly says in praise of Emma. The question whether people are good by nature or by nurture is raised in Mansfield Park. Fanny has silently determined that Mary Crawford's transgressions are a consequence of what she is; Edmund, who thinks he is in love with her, considers that her faults, which are faults of principle, ... of blunted delicacy and a corrupted, vitiated mind, are the consequence of ignorance resulting from a perverse upbringing. But I think Jane Austen finally sides with Fanny. The indelicacy or moral obtuseness which permits Mary Crawford to scorn the profession of a clergyman, to wish a young man about to be ordained to play oppo· site her in a Kotzebue comedy called "Lover's Vows," and to expect him to gloss over his sister's adultery comes from a coarse nature. Jane Austen once refers to the projected Mansfield Park as a novel about ordination, a curious description until one recalls that Edmund's ordination is indeed the touchstone of the two women's nature and understanding. It is therefore clear that Jane Austen is completely in accord with Socrates in thinking that virtue is knowledge, and that to know the good is to do it. Understanding is the sole condition of moral excellence, while ignorance of the real wrong that is being done accompanies all transgressions. At least it is so for the women-men are sometimes weak enough to possess a mere 11 moral taste," a connoisseur's knowledge of virtue, without efficacy. Indeed, it is the women's moral world which is the testing ground and even the corrective of the men's virtueswithin it the loftiest pride is taught to smile and the most �April, 1975 active valour to admit an equal. Again, try as one will, there is nothing ominous or subversive to be found lurking within this lucid moral world in which people may indeed do dreadful, but never dubious deeds. (In fact, it seems to me plain naughty to go looking for such dark spots.) But there is something behind this world which supports it without ever making an explicit appearance. There is a perfectly plain, unflinching, ungcnteel knowledge of the facts of life: the letters speak bluntly of the aspect of corpses, baldly of the wear and tear of child-bearing, coolly of gentlemen taking mistresses, ribaldly of obvious cures for fertility. And on the other hand there is settled orthodoxy, steady devoutness, and the fear of death overcome. I am thinking of Jane Austen's last letters, written when she was already an invalid in 1817, which show a serene faith, albeit still gilded by some of the old wickedness-the very last lines of her last surviving letter cast aspersions on the length of some acquaintances' petticoats. XV. Jane Austen's world is as merry as it is good. All the novels are perfect comedies-mirthful throughout and happy in outcome. Despite their brightness and lightness these novels are in no way trivial-they are simply not concerned with those terrific follies presented to the scourge of public laughter in classical comic drama. Her humour has none of the hell-bent strenuousness of Sterne's (whose books she knew). He, it seems to me, tries to tickle his reader with a club, so that after a while it becomes hard even to arrange a grin, but she usually elicits what she calls for, be it smile, chuckle or loud laughter-on the seventh reading as on the first. A pleasant way, and the least foolish, to approach this perfection of hers is simply to give samples of some of the fun she can think up. Sometimes it is dignified nonsense, like the axiomatic beginning of Pride and Prejudice: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Sometimes it is a pert critique, like that of education, in Emma: Mrs. Goddard was the mistress of a school-not of a seminary, or an establishment, or anything which professed in long sentences of refined nonsense, to combine liberal acquirements with elegant morality upon new principles and new systems-where young ladies for enormous pay might be screwed out of health and into vanity -bnt a real, honest, old-fashioned Boarding School, where a reasonable quantity of accomplishments were sold at a reasonable price, and where girls might be sent to be out of the way and scramble themselves into a little education, without any danger of coming back prodigies. Sometimes it is an evanescently devastating stroke, like the observation made of that insufferable philistine Mr. Elton in the same novel: He had caught both substance and shadow-both fortune and affection, and was just the happy man he ought to be .... Each novel also has its own pervasive humorous mode. The juvenile works of her middle teens are spirited and distinctly ungenteel burlesques, whose heroines introduce themselves by reporting that their Mother was the natural Daughter of a Scotch peer by an Italian opera-girl, and who perish from having performed too many fainting spells on the wet grass, or coolly begin letters as follows: I murdered my father at a very early period of my life, I have since murdered my mother and I am now going to murder my sister. The prevailing mode of her first published novel, on the other hand, is epigrammatic, chiefly because two of its people, Elizabeth Bennet and her father, are themselves witty. For instance, Elizabeth drily observes concerning the great commotion in the Collins household caused by a visit of their noble patroness: And is that all? ... I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here it is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter. Or she formulates this diagnostic test: Is not general incivility the very essence of love? I have often wondered why Mansfield Park makes me continually smile, although its two young people are so very good and are allowed to prose on and on about it. Edward only too truly observes of himself that: 'You need not hurry when the object is only to 11 �The College prevent my saying a bon-mot, for there is not the least wit in my nature. I am a very matterof-fact, plain spoken being, and may blunder on the borders of a repartee for half an hour together without striking it out.' A general silence ensued. While Fanny, by way of spirit, at most manages a gentle line of poetry or an exclamation like: 'The evergreen! How beautiful, how welcome, how wonderful the evergreen!' Fanny is, as Edward says, of all creatures the one over whom habit had most power. ... But that is just it, the clue to the humour: the future Reverend and Mrs. Bertram are incipient comic figures; they are the elderly comic background of another novel in the making. Emma, finally, is a comedy of errors: Emma is mistaken about Mr. Elton, Mr. Knightly, Harriet Smith, Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill, while Frank Churchill, Elton, Knightly, and Harriet Smith are mistaken about Emma; Mr. and Mrs. Weston are mistaken about Frank Churchill and Emma and Harriet Smith is mistaken about Mr. Knightly and Jane Fairfax, while Miss Bates and Mr. Woodhouse live in a gentle fog of general misapprehension. The light and unstrained effect of all her humor has everything to do with its being not a laborious construction but an immediate way of seeing the world: she simply lets her people be. Her moving principle is not a detached ironical motor, but a spring of disinterested love, or better, acute fondness, for her world. I would say that it is to the theatre of appearance what theory is to the world of being. XVI. Now I would like to turn to a group of perfections associated more with her craft than her content. There is, first, her remarkable logical, or better, dialectical force-her ability to discern distinctions, to divide at the joints, to collect with completeness, in short to articulate the world in words, ready for reflection. For example, in defining an empty life she speaks of the sameness and the elegance, the prosperity and the nothingness of its scene. Or, setting out the cures for a painful remembrance, she says that it shall be checked by religion, by reason, by constant employment. No wonder that Justice Marshall, whose opinions give 12 pleasure to the reader precisely because they display this kind of discernment, esteemed her. XVII. There is next the lucid yet unobtrusive symmetry of her tales. Their bare plots all have the kind of formal shape which might make a pretty diagram. She rigorously follows the rule of writing, cited in her novel about novels, Northanger Abbey, which prohibits loose ends and dangling characters. And yet her tales are so flowing that they appear to have no isolated episodes-in fact she never used title headings, which are a sure sign of episodic composition. This formal symmetry is complemented by a subtly palpable balance of substance. For instance, I have always wondered wherein lies the peculiar feeling of satisfaction given by Lady de Bourgh's impertinent descent on Elizabeth, intended to force the latter to reject Darcy. It is not only that the invasion is most staunchly repelled, but also that an imbalance is righted: Elizabeth has her immortally silly mother to be ashamed of-now Darcy turns out to have a meddling, insufferable relation as well; the union will be blessed by a balance of troublesome in-laws. I should add under this heading that all the novels are just the right length-a remarkable fact in any novel when one considers that a tale which has no absolute need to begin really has no natural place to close. XVIII. Finally there is the felicity of her language. Everyone recognizes it, and I would give much to discover its essence. But that irresistible effort never gets much beyond a mere description-which is therefore the best I can do. Her style is to literature what the classical style is to music: perfectly agreeable without being cloying, perfectly flowing and yet pithy, perfectly correct while alive with novelty. Partly it is shaped by avoidances. She advises her niece to delete "cant phrases" like "vortex of dissipation." She herself introduces them very sparingly-just enough to expose the limp mind of the speaker: "Sad, sad girl," a silly young woman will exclaim. She never allows her under-bred people more than a hint of wrongness in writing. Lucy Steele's letters in Sense and Sensibility contain a few intentional howlers, but I know of no others. She avoids learned or obtrusively latinate diction; she would not have written my favorite sentence from the much-loved Jane Eyre, where that strict-judging young governess ("eyre" signifies "court"), having climbed on her Mr. Rochester's knee (unthinkable for an Austenian woman!) is apostrophised as follows: Why do you remain pertinaciously perched upon my knee when I have given you notice to quit? �April, 1975 Nonetheless she could write like that, as is shown by the burlesque speech of a pompous enthusiast in her last fragment Sanditon: The Corruscations of Talent, elicited by impassioned feeling in the breast of Man, are perhaps incompatible with some of the prosaic Decencies of Life; ... nor can any Woman be a fair Judge of what a Man may be propelled to say, write or do by the sovereign impulses of illimitable Ardour. But in the published novels she avoids all contortions; Miss Catherine of Northanger Abbey says innocently: I cannot speak well enough to be unintelligible. And she approves of "unaffected gentlemanlike English" in her men. Part of the pleasure of her discourse comes from the very insidiousness of her well-turned phrases. They glide neatly by and snap in retrospect. So, for example, Marianne accepts Colonel Brandon, although he seeks "the constitutional safe-guard of a flannel waistcoat." Or she assigns to a character "a person and face of strong, natu- ral, sterling insignificance." She can, furthermore, build up a paragraph to perfection. Mr. Knightly has just successfully proposed to Emma, who, he thought, had been jilted by Frank Churchill: He found her agitated and low-Frank Churchill was a villain.-He heard her declare that she had never loved him. Frank Churchill's character was not desperate.-Shc was his own Emma, by heart and work, when they returned into the house; and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then, he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow. and in despair-not the very deepest feeling. That is reserved to Elizabeth, who has exerted her good sense to suppress her unhappiness, until in an unguarded moment it appears suddenly on her face. This aversion to displays of passion was resented by Charlotte Bronte (and most ungratefully too, since Jane Austen's quiet women are the fore-runners of her own mousily formidable girls who triumph helpfully at their lovers' debacles). She writes (herself, it appears to me, giving an example of romantic insensitivity): The passions are perfectly unknown to her. . . . Her business is not half so much with the human heart as with human eyes, mouths, hands, and feet. She is right insofar as Jane Austen is much concerned with surfaces and appearances-but how often precisely because they conceal the heart! Concealed feeling and silent suffering win her deepest sympathy-in their presence she is always serious. The novel most fragrant with feeling is her last, Persuasion. The heroine, Anne Elliot, is, to begin with, walking proof of Jane Austen's dictum concerning losses m love: ... it is no creed of mine, you must be well aware, that such sort of Disappointments kill anybody. She is alive, but in her patient resignation "almost too good" for her authoress, as she declares to her niece. A little of this impatience shows in the gentle irony with which Anne's happiest hour is treated: Prettier musings of high wrought love and eternal constancy, could never have passed along the streets of Bath, than Anne was sporting with from Camden-place to Westgate-buildings. It was almost enough to spread purification and perfume all the way. But what is best is as normal as it is inimitable-her natural imitation of blessedly uncorrupted speech, page after page: her best people discourse with a sweet, unpompous formality which reflects the dignity of their society, while the authoress supplies the agreeable alternation of short brisk sentences with very long constructions full of connectives and subordinate clauses-all equally lucid. She evidently had the ability to hear and hold on to the whole conversation even while she was writing it down; she is said to have written speedily and surely, and her revisions consisted mostly of "lopping and cropping." Nonetheless, Persuasion is the novel in which the greatest things are most frankly at stake. When Anne finally holds in her hands a letter from Captain Wentworth, the man whom she had eight years before dutifully refused, yielding to the well-meant but narrow-minded persuasions of Lady Russell, she feels that XIX. The impression that this story is in earnest as no other is aided by a peculiar device, the presence of real dates, And then, last and most felicitous, there is her knowledge of the human heart. Again it begins in an aversion, her aversion to "sensibility," that is, to systematic emoting and the romantic stance. The exemplar of this error of disposition is Marianne of Sense and Sensibility who shows little consideration, less tact and-although much heard of both in ecstasy which occur in this work alone. Anne was born on On the contents of this letter depended all which the world could do for her. August 9, 1787 and is a faded twenty-seven at the time the novel takes place, about 1814. The wars of those years are the tense, invisible, remote backdrop beyond the story. But the immediate setting within which Anne subdues and nurses her long-carried feeling is a delicious swirl of cross-currents: shame-faced desire for establish- l3 �The College ment, natural preference derailed by envy, interfering ambition thwarted with counter-designs. Quietly, amidst these comic machinations, Anne passes through the stations of her love: a walk in the company of the irreconciled Wentworth, when Her pleasure must arise from the exercise and the day; a shy but articulate disquisition on the intensification of feeling resulting from the confinement of a woman's life; the agitations of the clay of mutual understanding; and finally-the most quietly rhapsodic description of "highwrought felicity" I know of-that evening party and its undercurrent of secret bliss, where Anne moves about in Hdelicious consciousness" 1naking conversation with her friends, and with Captain Wentworth, some moments of communication continually occurring, and always the hope of more, and always the knowledge of his being there. In the Republic, Socrates speaks of "a certain ancient quarrel between philosophy and poetry," in which philosophy can be said to charge fiction-makers with a double crime: first the shameless fabrication of images which insidious•ly obstruct tbe search for being, and then the reckless vivification of these shades by means of a lurid singularity-so that the more brilliant the fiction, the greater the blame. Jane Austen side-steps the first charge by being so candidly imitative and yet so careful to refrain from touching the last things as to offer not the least impediment to philosophy, while she meets the second by conforming all her fictions to a serenely normal pattern -she never even invents an authoress. The wonder is that figures so carefully middling in stature are nonetheless so absorbing: Sir Walter Scott caught the essence of her excellence when he observed that she "renders ordinary, commonplace things and characters interesting from the truth of the description and the sentiment." But if Jane Austen's prosaic poetry is neither false nor egregious and her six novels give delight and hurt not, then that "ancient quarrel" is here for once composed1 and these fictions, at least, can be loved rationally. XX. XXI. Having articulated as well as I am able the perfections which belong to Jane Austen's novels I need probably add nothing concerning the mere delight which comes from reading them-especially aloud among friends, as was the habit of the Austen household. But there is something more to be said about their peculiar efficacy. Novels are started for many reasons: to fulfill a promise to an enthusiastic friend, to get on with the project of having read everything, to abide a while in pleasurable passivity. But they are generally finished because they become absorbing. The question is whether this absorption is good for the soul. Jane Austen herself mounts a comic defense of any novel written with "genius, wit and taste" in N orthanger Abbey: ... I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolite custom so common among novel writers of de- grading by their contemptuous censure the very performances to the number of which they are themselves adding-joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. ... Yet I think there is also a serious apology to be proposed for these six novels, and for these alone. I am anxious to make it because I have myself experienced an efficacy of theirs often attested to in literature: their ability to re-collect the soul whenever it finds itself in places diffuse, dreary, enormous or savage. 14 In conclusion let me once more reckon up the perfections and felicities which invite this ratfonal love. Jane Austen's novels celebrate that middling class of mankind to which it is, after all, most feasible and most fitting to belong. They reform the dispersed soul and inculcate respect for the concealed heart. They afford the example of a correct and uncorrupted tongue, and they encourage us to know ourselves and to judge others rightly. They recall to us the possibility of an integral and wellformed world by presenting a straight imitation of English country society, sifted and spruced up, to be sure, but unsullied by imported significance. This copy, the product of a coolly loving contemplation, is made not for penetration but for observation. Its foreground is peopled by growing girls on the brink of being settled in life, while in the background finished humankind carries on its unconscious comedy. And the whole breathes a serene hilarity whose source is the reason and the faith of the authoress. 1 This article was adapted from a lecture given at Annapo1is on January 31, 1975. �April, 1975 Odyss "Cre by Kimo MALLORCA _,;r•-• ... TYRRHENIAN SEA .//.CORFU i / I I I I /IONIAN SEA ".__ _, ........., / 0 •-to·---·- ncresta's" Route In December of 1973 I carefully selected my favorite books, collected my instruments and gathered my clothes. I had been given a year's leave of absence to pursue a dream that had begun to grow in me almost three years before. Like Ishmael I accounted it high time to get to sea, for "I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world." Not just any part, but that part which Homer tells us of, where the sea paints a wine blue foreground for a "rosy-fingered dawn." My three friends and I had saved what money we could earn over the past three years and combined our meager fortunes in the hope of creating a sum sufficient to buy us a boat that would serve as our means of adventuring in the Mediterranean. By luck of fortune we were able to find just such a craft in Mallorca in Spain. The boat was thirty-six feet long but only six and a half feet wide and stood a mere eighteen to twenty-four inches out of the water. It was an old "International six-meter" racing sloop that had been built in England back in 1931. Although the hull was forty-three years old it had been rebuilt in 1969 by a very competent yard. It was in very sound condition though clearly not designed for open sea voyaging. We spent the greater part of April making the necessary additions to render the boat safe for the open sea. Because of the low free-board the boat was extremely susceptible to having waves break over it and the necessary precautions had to be taken to ensure that those waves did not, by filling the cockpit, overwhelm what " '" Statute Miles '"' reserve buoyancy we had. We were not the only ones aware of the fact that our boat was not designed for what we intended to use it for. We were constantly beset by the advice of dock-walking sailors who usually knew everything about nothing because they'd experienced it all. One old man, whom we fondly referred to as "Elijah," seemed to extract considerable enjoyment from sitting on the quay shaking his head and mumbling. But despite the discouraging words we went about our tasks with determination, eager to "show our backs above the element we lived in." Mallorca, despite the hordes of tourists that island seems to attract, was, I think, the most picturesque of all the islands we were to visit. Finally all our preparations had been made and we left Mallorca and its prophet of doom behind. We set sail at midnight on a moonlit eve for the winds had been gusting up to forty knots that day and it wasn't till then that they began to subside. The seas which had been pushed to a considerable height by that afternoon's wind seemed to charge at us out of the darkness like mountains of obsidian reflected under the moon's light. We spent almost a week in Puerto de Mahon, a small Spanish town that lay at the head of a natural harbor which, though very narrow, stretched inland for over a mile, making the largest natural harbor in the Mediterranean. What is perhaps most colorful and delightful about Mediterranean cities are their market places and Mahon's market was no exception to this rule. Before sunrise each 15 �Clockwise from upper lett: Road near An- draitx on Ma1lorca; At sea, en route to Palermo; Greek amphitheater, Segeste, Sicily; "Cresta" in Ithaka harbour. morning one of us would pry himself from his berth and head for the panaderia to pick up our daily loaf of bread. The trip invariably took me through the market place where preparations were being made for the day's business. A row of horse-drawn carts lined the wet cobblestone curbs. The horses' heads were buried deep in their feedbags, which seemed to spout steam as the horses' hot breath mixed with the crisp morning air. It was always easy to be persuaded that a little fresh sausage would improve the breakfast fare, and I rarely passed the cameceria without being duped into buying some. Then I would head back to the boat with the bread tucked away inside my shirt where we could share each other's warmth. On May 5th we set sail out of Mahon headed for San Pietro, a small island some 250 miles to the SE which lies off the southern tip of Sardinia. After almost three days we arrived in San Pietro only to have our passports and ship's papers impounded by the customs officials. They were returned to us after almost three hours of telephone calls to Rome and hard-fought verbal battles whose style was very gesticulative. 'l11is Italian town was not often visited by foreign tourists and it was not .long until we had been challenged by the town's basketball team to a match which we won by the skins of our teeth. 16 From San Pietro we set sail for Palermo in Sicily which lay another 250 miles to the eastward. It was on this trip that we encountered some of the most treacherous seas of our voyage. We ran for twenty-four hours under one small jib averaging seven knots and after two days arrived in Palermo. From there we visited Segeste which is nothing but a trainstop in the middle of Sicily except that there can be found the ruins of a Greek temple and amphitheatre. These were the first Greek ruins we had seen and our determination to reach the cradle of civilization was heightened. It was in Palermo that the coil of our auxiliary motor burned out. It was impossible for us to get a proper replacement. So from that point on we travelled by means of the wind alone. We set sail for Taormina in Sicily, stopping for dinner at Lipari, one of the Aeolian islands, where Odysseus was reported to have been given his bag of wind. From Lipari we sailed through the Straits of Messina known to Homer as Charybdis and Scylla. Scylla, having been destroyed by an earthquake some time in the 18th century, did not present nearly the danger that did Charybdis. The Italians referred to the whirlpools as "vorticioli" and maintained that they were caused by the mixing of the Tyrrhenian and Ionian Seas which are of varying density. �Left, "Cresta" sailing off Ithaka coast; top center, Corfu landscape; lower center, Kimo Mackey taking sextant shot; top right, coast of Ithaka; lower right, "Cresta" close hauled. The whirlpools are now harmless, though they will alter your course considerably if the mistake is made of sailing into them. We would have had more fun with them except that our steering apparatus had broken just prior to the strait, and sailing under jury rig we were not disposed to horsing around. From Taormina can be had an impressive view of Mt. Aetna. At night flashes of fire can be seen coming from the still-active volcano. By train we travelled to Siracusa where we visited its ancient ruins, including the cave of Dionysius' ear whose walls caused one's voice to echo in such a way that it seemed as though the very gods spoke. After a week's stay on the eastern coast of Sicily we set sail for Corfu-the northernmost of the Ionian islands and believed to be the home of the Phaiakians. We had given up on fixing the engine and decided to complete the rest of our trip without it. It was blowing a good 35 knots when we arrived at Corfu harbor and after one pass to size up the situation I decided to enter the harbor under bare poles as it was very small and I was afraid that to run down on it under sail would be too fast. Miraculously enough we got in and found a spot, arriving safely in Greece after almost 1500 miles of sailing. It is no wonder that Corfu is thought to be the island of the Phaiakians, for it is by far the most gardenlike of all the Greek isles. We had not been there long before we found a deserted beach and had a feast in gratitude to the gods for allowing us a safe and fair journey. The Mediterranean is well known for its variable winds which make sailing difficult at least fifty percent of the time, but we had been blessed in our passage with very few contrary winds. We spent the next four weeks cnusmg the Ionian islands of Paxas, Levkas, Skorpio (home of Aristotle Onassis) and finally Ithaka, the legendary home of Odysseus. In Ithaka there are no wide ranges nor pastureland at all; it is a land that pasturcth goats and I think more pleasing to the eye than one that pastureth horses. I spent more than one afternoon walking its -mountain roads and many a balmy evening sitting in tavern<JS sipping ouzo and listening to Greek music. I do not believe there is another place on earth where one's melancholy can be more thoroughly savored. There is hardly a sight more peaceful and contemplative than to watch the Ionian sun set over a windless sea to the sound of a Greek song whose words you don't understand and whose meaning is obvious. We sailed then to Navpaktos which is at the narrows separating the Gulf of Patras from the Gulf of Corinth. The harbor of Navpaktos is one of the only working remains of a Phoenician walled-in port. If one can imagine sailing through the gate of a castle one will understand what it was like. From Navpaktos we sailed on to Galaxhidi from where we visited the museum and ruins of Delphi, the religious city perched high in the mountains overlooking the Gulf of Corinth and the Peloponnese. We then sailed through the Corinth Canal and on to Athens, passing Salamis, the location of the Greek's fam- 17 �The College ous victory over Xerxes' mighty Persian fleet. What surprised me most was that Athens was just as I had imagined it to be. The picture painted for us by Thueydides thousands of years ago has not changed much. We somehow managed to be in Piraeus during the Cypriot coup which very nearly sent that city into turmoil. All outside communications were prohibited and private vessels were denied permission to leave the port. In the evenings we would migrate to Eleana Basil's (St. John's graduate), bearing the rumors that had circulated through the city that day, eager to see if they were eonfirmed or denied by the reports received from the B.B.C. As we suspected, the mobilization of the troops put the people in a position of power over the existing military dictatorship-a position they used to oust that regime and install one Jed by Karamanlis. Throughout the streets of Athens could be heard the honking of car horns and I will confess that I never visited the Acropolis directly for I have learned that it is better to admire such monuments from afar than pay whatever they're charging only to find what you had dreamed of someday seeing covered with so many sightseers. Better to catch a glimpse of such monuments from far off as they are picked out and distinguished by the last rays of the setting sun. I shaJ.l never forget sailing round Cape Sounion under storm canvas, with the "Meltimi"-a wind that over the centuries has sunk many a high-prowed ship-beating at my back, and looking up through the salted spray to see the temple to Poseidon perched stark and majestic on the cliff above. That scene was made the more magnificent when I realized that I was looking at the very same temple of stone to which Odysseus had offered sacrifice as he rounded Cape Sounion on his way to Troy thousands of years before me. that favorite Athenian utterance ''Democratia ... Democra~ tia . .. Democratia . ..." Kimo Mackey is a sophomore at St. John's, Annapolis. CAMPUS-ALUMNI NEWS ST. JOHN'S SEARCH AND RESCUE SQUAD What always takes place on a Monday night on a St. John's campus? A seminar, right? Wrong, if you are a member of the St. John's Search and Rescue Squad, a unit ofthe New Mexico Search and Rescue Squad. Take Monday night, February 17th, as an example. At seminar time a team of eight St. Johnnies, led by senior Bill U nbehaun, was camped high in the Sangre de Christo Range some 130 miles northeast of Santa Fe. Members of a highly-trained and speciallyequipped rescue unit, the team had been called into action that afternoon by the head of the New Mexico unit, Herb Kincey. A light aircraft was thought to have crashed in the mountains east of Taos, and ground units were needed to help locate it. Two Oklahoma couples were believed to be aboard the plane, from which an emergency transmitter was sending a faint signal. Bad weather hampered the air search most of the 18 day on Monday. The ground and air search proceeded all day Tuesday, unfortunately in what turned out to be the wrong area. In late afternoon, however, a National Guard helicopter spotted the crash site and at least one survivor near the top of Mt. Phillips. Unbehaun's team, after having searched futilely all day, was soon on the trail. Five and one-half hours later, fighting darkness, deep snow, bitter cold, and precipitous terrain, they arrived at the downed plane. They were greeted there by two U.S. Army medical personnel, dropped in from the helicopter, and two women survivors. One husband had died in the crash, the other succumbed to injuries and exposure. Because of injuries to one of the women, the non-availability of a hoist-equipped helicopter until the following day, and the zero to fifteen degree cold, it was decided to evacuate the survivors that night. Before the nearly exhausted rescue team could reach the base camp, it was joined by a second St. John's team led by sophomore Tina Schmidt, plus a team of police and local citizens. Initially activated to assist in recovering the bodies of the two men, Ms. Schmidt's team had been dispatched to help with the rescue of the two women. By 5:30 a.m. Wednesday all parties were safely back at the Philmont Scout Ranch base camp, and the women were transferred to an Albuquerque hospital. Both survived. On Wednesday afternoon another team of volunteers, accompanied by Ms. Schmidt and some of her group, went back up the mountain to bring out the bodies of the two victims. By late that day all had returned to the base camp. Almost three full days had passed since Bill Unbehaun received the first alert on Sunday night. The St. John's Search and Rescue Team had proved its skill, persistence, and high state of training; it richly deserved the accolades which it received. St. John's students who took park in the search and rescue on Mt. Phillips are: Senior Bill Unbehaun; Juniors John Pilcher, Chris Graver, Nicole Schiess, Vicki Farnham, Pablo Col- �April, 1975 ]ins, David St. John, and Janet Farr; Sophomores Tina Schmidt, Anne Echeverria, Kim Childs, Shawn McCoy, Jim Ham, Mike Nolan, Frances Hartogh, and Steve Corneli; Freshmen Ann Flannery, Mark Clark, Dean McFalls, Charles Stephenson, Shaun Abshere, Mary Classen, and Fred Neill. The St. John's Search and Rescue Squad had its origins some five years ago, when a groups of students, interested in mountain climbing and similar outdoor activities, started working with the Santa Fe Search and Rescue Squad. After a year of training and collecting the necessary equipment the Squad at St. John's was formed officially, and is now a unit of the New Mexico Search and Rescue Squad. Although normally associated with locating downed aircraft or lost hikers, or with rescuing injured persons, the Squad also works to prevent accidents. When white-water canoe races arc held each year on the near-by Rio Grande, members of the St. John's Squad are on hand, making sure proper safety precautions are observed. And if something goes wrong, they are prepared to make a rescue. ATTENTION ALUMNI Did you see Alumni Association President ((Bunny" Gessner's letter in the February issue of the Reporter? It called attention to the bewildering fact that more alumni and alumnae paid dues to the Association than made gifts to the College last year. Between the two campuses gifts were received from about 780 people; during the same period 1,000 paid dues. Perhaps we should repeat what Mr. Gessner said in part: "While obviously closely related, the College and the Association are financially and legally quite separate and distinct organizations, and each needs its annual support to function." We certainly have no quarrel with those who support their Association, hut do want to remind all that the College needs help, too. So please, give to the campus of your choice, and do so before June 30. Left to right: Julius Rosenberg '38, Jim Randall '38, Warren Hammann '38, Jim Dugan '26, guest of honor John Lambros '38, Val Lentz, Jim Rowe '38, Lou Davis '38, Buzz Budacz '39, John Donohue '35, Pat Pindell '38, and Jack Hodges and Bob Miller, both '36. LAMBROS HONORED For a small college, St. John's has made a remarkably substantial impact on the Maryland sports scene-and this despite the absence of intercollegiate competition since 1939. Proof can be found, not just in the hearts and memories of loyal St. Johnnies or in musty issues of the Rat-Tat 1 hut more publicly in the Civic Center in Baltimore, in the area devoted to the Maryland Athletic Hall of Fame. We were reminded of all this on February 17, when John J. Lambros of ALUMNI SUMMER SEMINARS "Last yeaes experimental Alumni Seminar Program, held in Santa Fe in August, was such a success that we are scheduling similar programs on both campuses this summer. As announced in the January issue of The College, the Annapolis session will be held June 15-28, and that in Santa Fe from August 3-17." So reads the first paragraph of a letter from Mr. Weigle to all St. John's alumni in mid-March. And last year's program was successful, with 17 participants the first week and 22 the second. This mix of alumni from classes as wide-spread as 1944 and 1973, together with their families in many cases, enjoyed a very real educational experience. the Class of 1938 became the latest St. Johnnie to be inducted into the Hall. Cited for his cDllegiatc football, basketball, and lacrosse play, and for post-college softball, John joins six other St. John's men previously honored. Earlier inductees were Edmund P. Duval '05, Valentine Lentz '18, Robert Pool '31, JohnN. Wilson '13, Richard T. Porter '22, and John C. Donohue '35. Donohue and Lentz's son Val were among those attending the February induction. This year from June 15 to 28 in Annapolis a faculty consisting of tutors Alan Dorfman (SJC '63) Nicholas Maistrellis, Robert L. Spaeth, Bert Thoms, John F. White (SJC '65) and Dean Curtis A. Wilson will present what should he an interesting and stimulating academic program. Seminar readings include Sophocles' Antigone and Philoctetes, and Shakespeare's Othello and The Winter's Tale. The first week tutorials will cover Plato's Gorgias and Alfred North Whitehead's Modes of Thought, while the second week the students will undertake Erwin Straus's The Upright Posture and Sophistry in Plato's Euthydemus. From August 3 to 17 tutors Eva T. H. Brann, Samuel E. Brown, Dean Robert A. Neidorf, Robert D. Sacks 19 �The College (SJC '54), J. Winfree Smith, Jr., and Ralph Swcntzell will be responsible for the Summer program in Santa Fe. Seminars will discnss three Platonic dialogues, Charmides, Euthyphro, and Gorgias. Sophocles' Philoctctes, Vico's On the Study Methods of Our Time, Giidel's Theorem, and Plato's Apology will provide subject matter for the tutorials. Reservations will be made on a firstcome first-served basis, and while CLASS NOTES 1914 Francis W. Hili was named Lawyer of the Year by the District of Columbia Bar Association at its 103rd Annual Banquet on December 7, 1974. Mr. Hill was admitted to the Bar in 1917, to the Bar Association in 1921, and served as Association president in 1940-41. 1919 Dr. J. Ogle \Varfie1d and Mrs. Warfield celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on Saturday, December 14, 1974, with a recep· tion at the Cosmos Club in Washington. Our belated but sincere congratulations to the happy couple. 1935 Just as this issue was going to press, word was received that John C. Donoime had been elected to the May1anel Lacrosse Hall of Fame. A prep-school athlete of considerable ability, John had never played lacrosse before coming to St. John's; yet while here he played four years of varsity lacrosse, played in the International Lally Cup Series in 1934, and was selected All-Maryland and AU-America in 1933 and 1934. Induction into the Hall wi11 take place sometime this spring. 1938 Monday, February 17, was induction day, as a properly modest but proud John J. Lambros was inducted into the Maryland Athletic Hall of Fame. (See story elsewhere in this issue.) 1947 A good letter from John Brunn advises that he has taught physics, mathematics, and astronomy for 14 years at Chabot Col1ege, a public community college in Hayward, CaL Currently John is involved in a five-quarter tutorial program which, except for languages, is much like that at St. John's. Although the program emphasizes original works, use is made of Breakthroughs in Mathematics, edited by Peter Wolff '44. 20 May I was the announced deadline for reservations, applications will be accepted until the seminars are filled. And you are reminded that spouses of alumni are welcome to attend. ALUMNI ELECTED James H. Frame of the class of 1950 and William W. Simmons of the class of 1948 have been elected to threeyear terms on the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College. Paul Evaus writes that he is currently working on two projects: the first is completing a book about his experiences on trips to the northern Quebec wilderness over the past 15 years; the other constructing a 37-foot steel schooner on which Paul, his wife Shawn, and their new baby will start a cruise of the Pacific this coming autumn. 1950 For those who may have missed the news, including a rather nice piece in the March 3 issue of Time, former St. John's (Annapolis) dean Robert A_ Goldwin is now a special consultant to President Ford and a member of the Domestic Council. Bob's principal function is to serve as liaison between the Administration and the academic community. 1953 The March wind~ brought a fine letter from the province of Granada in Spain, where Frederick S. Wildman, Jr., and his Swedish wife live 5,000 feet up on the highest European peak west of Mont Blanc, Mulhacen, in the original Sierra Nevada. The Wildmans bought and reconstructed a 14th Century Moorish "Mas", where Fred has a studio, many other rooms, "plus a passable wine-cellar." He is currently working on a book about the Spanish Armada, due for release this fa11. An earlier book, ''A Wine Tour of France," was offered as a Book-of-the-Month-Club bonus selection, and was, says Fred, "a small bestseller." 1955 Priscilla Shore, chairman of the Drawing Deparbnent at the Santa Barbara (Cal.) Art Institute, is program coordinator for a new institute-\vide, required, lecture/discussion class. The format of the program may sound familiar: an hour of discussion, plus an hour of open question period, followed by coffee. 1961 Michael W. Gold, former director of New York City's Landmark Preservation Commission, is now director of the Historic Richmond (Va.) Foundation. Messrs. Frame and Simmons will replace Dr. Eugene Cozzolino of the class of 1929 and John D. Oosterhout of the class of 19 51. Our congratulations to the two new members, and our thanks to Dr. Cozzolino and Mr. Oosterhout for their service. And mention must be made of Jonathan Sinnreich's participation as a nominee by petition; although he was not elected he polled rather well with both older and newer alumni. St. John's (Annapolis) former director of admissions Michael W. Ham has been elected president of the Eastern Iowa Esperanto Association. Mike is now in the Assessment Division of ACT (American College Testing Program), and is working toward a degree in industrial engineering at the University of Iowa. Ellen Luff, Annapolis attorney, has become associated with the firm of B1umenthal, Goldsborough and May. 1965 Scheherazade (Friestedt) Smith is working as a counselor at the College of the Ozarks in Clarksville, Ark. Sherri received her master's degree in counseling last May from the University of Arkansas. 1966 In a recent letter David Z. Landow te1ls us that he is strll teaching and continuing research in political science at Northern Illinois University at De Kalb. David E. Long, a computer systems analyst in Boston, is very active in the Massachusetts Libertarian Party (ex-Goldwaterites, Eugene McCarthyites, and McGovemites, according to David), a group which hopes to offer a mayoral candidate in Boston this falL 1967 Word reaches us through the Registrar that -Mark A. Liudley has been accepted as a c~mdi­ date for the degree of Master of Fine Arts at Catholic University of America (D.C.). Clark Lobenstine writes that he has just been appointed director of the United Crescent Hill Ministries in Louisvi11e, Ky. This is an ecumenically sponsored community ministry program, and Clark will be the first full-time staff person. He will also complete work this spring on a "double competence" program, with a Master of Divinity degree from the Louisville Presbyterian Seminary and the degree of Master of Science in Social Work from the Kent School of Social Work at the University of Louisville. Clark expects to be ordained this summer; meanwhile, he, Joy, and the 19-monthold twins are renovating a 1904 duplex home in Louisville. �April, 1975 1968 William R. Albury reviewed a new edition of Etienne Bonnot de Condillac's An Essay on ti1e Origin of Human Knowledge in Isis, Volume 65, Number 1. Dr. Tlwmas G. Keens (SF) is now finishing his third year of pediatric residency training at the Children's Hospital of Los Angeles. TI1is summer Tom will start two years of postdoctoral studies in pediatric pulmonary discases and physiology at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He had a choice of two competitive fellowships, one from the American Lung Association, the other from the National Cystic Fibrosis Research Foundation. Tom will accept the latter, and upon completion of this advanced training hopes to follow a career in academic medicine. Thomas and Jinna (MacLaurin) Rie arc living in Kalispell, Mont., where Tom manufactures free-standing fireplaces and fireplace grates under the name "Tom Ric's Metal Arts". Both enjoy son Andy, now 16 months old. 1969 Ricllard Ferrier and wife Kathryn (Austin) '74 are in Bloomington, Ind., where he pursues his studies under a Danforth fellowship while Kathy cooks for a sorority house at the University of Indiana. Harold 0. Koenig, our own Prince Hal, and Miss Nancy Elizabeth Leighton of Baltimore are engaged to be married, probably in May. Harry is a student chaplain in residence at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston· Miss Leighton, the daughter of the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Maryland, is on the faculty of St. Anne's Episcopal School, Alexandria, Va. Deborah Moll and her husband, James Boyle, have bought an older home in Austin, Tex., complete with two acres of privacy. Debbie is finishing law school at the University of Texas, and plans next year to work as a briefing attorney on the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. This spring she will work for William Patman, a member of the Texas state legislature. politics during his two years at St. John's in Sa~ta Fe, and managed the Apodaca campaign while employed by a Boulder, Col., public relations firm. Catherine North Waters Carroll (SF) expects to graduate from the University of New Mexico School of Law this spring. And we are happy to have a mailing address again for Catherine. Doctor-to-be V. Michael Victoroff reports seeing Jeremiah and Diana (Love) Collins in Palo Alto last fall. Jeremiah is apparently doing extremely well at Stanford University Law School. CI1ristopher Lee lives with the Collinses. 1972 The Washington (D.C.) Star and Daily News for February 18 contained an interesting interview with Malcolm Muggeridge by Thomas R. Ascik. 1973 Jerrold R. Caplan writes that he is working in California as a stained-glass design craftsman in the studio of a friend, but plans to leave that state (neither as sunny nor as warm as he had thought) in the spring or early summer to return to his studies. Matthew Frame is studying at the Hastings School of Law in San Francisco. Mary Rose Gauler (SF) and Paul D. Knudsen (SF) were married on December 27 at her parent's home in Los Alamos, N.M. Paul's father officiated at the ceremony. The couple now lives in Albuquerque, where he is studying at the University of New Mexico. Despite appearing on a list of "lost" Santa Fe alumni last full, Robert M. Hampton (SF) is indeed not, and proves it with a newsy Jetter. He is working as a social worker in his home town of Mineral Wells, Tex., part of a three-man community clinic run by the Texas Department of Mental Health/Mental Retardation [sic]. Bob has no trouble understanding his patients, but claims the "finely-honed sense of logos" acquired at St. John's is a barrier to understanding psychiatrists and psychologists! In December Bob had a visit from Christian "Kip" Smith (SF), now working for the U.S. Geological Survey and living in Albuquerque. And if you are in or near Mineral Wells-I 00 miles west of Dallas/Ft. Worth-Bob would ~~~~nt~ ~a ~~f.J~~ drop in: 516 W. Hubbard, 35 Alice (Gawron) Knittel is living in Storrs, Conn., and working toward a Ph.D. degree in pharmacology at the University of Connecticut. Better late than never, we report the birth last April 29 of Master Aaron Mensch Landry to Maura (Mensch) and Michael J. Landry (SF70) . Mike is teaching at the Sevem School in nearby Severna Park, Md. T. Alex Lawson (SF) this year has been a teaching assistant in chemistry at Arizona State University, after a year "catching up" on undergraduate chemistry and mathematics. Alex's goal is a Ph.D. degree in organic chemishy. C. Brian Scott is a student at the Northwestern School of Law of Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Ore. 1974 Thomas J. Dolan, Jr. is now teaching at St. Mary's College, Above Rocks, Jamaica, W.L fay Gottlieb is studying at the Huxley College of Environmental Studies at Western Washington State College, Bellingham, Wash. An anonymous note in January te1ls us that Leonard T. Kapolka and Daphne (Greene) '76 are married and living in Poland, hut plan to return to the United States. Margaret (Frame) Lipton reports that she will enter the San Francisco Conservatory next year. RusseJI '73 is working toward his master's degree, while she is "picking up music courses" at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, Cal. Former Faculty Arland Christ-Janer, former treasurer and vice-president in Annapolis, and currently president of New College :in Florida, will become president of Stephens College, Columbia, Mo., on July 1. 1970 foanne L. Murray, a doctoral candidate in physics and a graduate assistant at the University of Maryland, is one of four graduate students recently to receive special awards for excellence in teaching. Roberta Petty and Richard Bond were married during the winter. Roberta has just finished all the requirements for a Master of Music degree at the University of Southem California, and hopes to study for the degree of Doctor of Musical Arts. She is studying harp and organ, helped, we are sure, by Richard, a builder of pipe organs! 1971 fames Christopher Brown (SF), who managed New Mexico Governor Apodaca's campaign, joined the Governor's staff January 1 as Staff Director. Chris entered New Mexico In Memoriam 1909-Upton H. Tarbert, Jr., South Milwaukee, Wis. 1912-Dr. Herman A. Gailey, Sr., York, Pa., December 18, 1974. 1912-Raymond Ross, Easton, Md., August, 1974. 1912-Wilbur E. Schell, Berlin, Pa. 1913-G. Ewell Dryden, Stockton, Md., January 27, 1975. 1917-Joseph R. Harp, Myersville, Md., December 28, 1973. 1917-J. Wilson Knighton, Indian Rocks Beach, Fla., January 15, 1975. 1925-John A. Phelps, Pittsfield, Mass., March 2, 1975. 1926-John A. Sowers, Laguna Hills, Cal. 1930-Edmund Turner, Annapolis, Md., December 17,1974. 1931-L. Harwood Green, Jr., Annapolis, Md., February, 1975. 1933-John S. Hofmeister, Baltimore, Md., February 15, 1975. 1936-Robert G. Lewis, Harrisburg, Pa., February 24, 1975. 1973 (SF)-Susan Carol Meister, Greeley, Col. 21 �r+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++******--***:t :j: + t :j: t t :j; t + + + + + t :j; HoMECOMING 1975 Not exactly just around the corner, but it will be here sooner than you expect-that's Homecoming 1975. The dates are October 24 and 25, 1975, so mark your calendars now. And if your class should be having a reunion this year-that would be 1970, 1965, 1955, 1950, 1945, 1935, 1925, and 1915-you should be especially interested in this Homecoming. We know of special plans by the class of 1950 for its Silver Anniversary reunion-the goal is to out-do the Forty-Niners-and there have been some rumors that '35 was going to eelebrate its 40th. How about you others? Some general plans have been made by your Association directors, but it will be July before we have a complete program to publish. Some parts of the program may be kept secret until the big day, although we can share one unclassified bit: since this year brings the 20th anniversary of the graduation of the first class containing women, that occasion will be marked with appropriate ceremony, you may be sure. So make your plans now to join us in the fall in Annapolis. :J: :J: t :j; + :J: t :j; t + + + :J: t :j; ~++++++++++++++++++++++++~+++++++++++++++++++~~ The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 21 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of College Relations Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1975 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zelenka, Robert S. Zuckerman, Elliott Description An account of the resource Volume XXVII, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1975. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_27_No_1_1975 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/4799c228e7816e305ed42f95d35a266d.pdf 416ef047d3b6d540043ee7f21e84e35e PDF Text Text �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVII July, 1975 Number 2 ON THE COVER: El Santuario de Chimayo, Santa Fe County, New Mexico. Built between 1814 and 1816, on the site of an old Indian shrine, this exquisite chapel is still a popular healing shrine and pilgrimage center. Sacred earth from a small room to the left of the altar is thought to have miraculous curative powers. During Holy Week, pilgrims walk great distances to Chimayo, and the tiny Sanctuary and its plaza are crowded with worshipers. Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Farran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Elliott Zuckerman. During this spring the old Liberty Tree required some corrective surgery. This has been performed, and appears most successful. In 1907 the venerable Annapolis landmark required even more serious care, and the photographs above give a graphic picture of the tree's condition at that time. Miss Miriam Strange points out that the gentleman in the black howler hat is Dr. Gordon H. Claude, an alumnus of the College in the class of 1875; "practically all" of the children arc his, to quote Miss Strange. The smiling bareheaded gentleman is John T. Withers of New Jersey, the attending tree surgeon. T.P. Jr. ----J-~---------~ THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Vice President. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE JULY ISSUE Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1975, by Robert S. Bart 1 Thucydides, Aristotle's Politics, and the Significance of the Peloponnesian War, by Leo Raditsa ............ . 5 Brothers of Our Father Jesus-The Penitentes of the Southwest, by Marta Weigle l4 Picture credits: Cover: Cultural Properties Review Committee-State Planning Office Files, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa. Fe; p. 3, Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting; p. 4, Jon Hustis '76; pp. Author Index~April 1969 through April 1975 20 Commencements 21 15, 17: as shown on those pages; pp. 21, 23, Betty Lilienthal; p. 22, Jon Hustis. All pictures used with permission. Campus-Alumni News 23 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVII July, 1975 Number 2 ON THE COVER: El Santuario de Chimayo, Santa Fe County, New Mexico. Built between 1814 and 1816, on the site of an old Indian shrine, this exquisite chapel is still a popular healing shrine and pilgrimage center. Sacred earth from a smaii room to the left of the altar is thought to have miraculous curative powers. During Holy Week, pilgrims walk great distances to Chimayo, and the tiny Sanctuary and its plaza are crowded with worshipers. Commencement Address Annapolis 1975 by Robert S. Bart Editor: Beale Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, EIIiott Zuckerman. During this spring the old Liberty Tree required some corrective surgery. This has been performed, and appears most successful. In 1907 the venerable Annapolis landmark required even more serious care, and the photographs above give a graphic picture of the tree's condition at that time. Miss Miriam Strange points out that the gentleman in the black bowler hat is Dr. Gordon H. Claude, an alumnus of the College in the class of 1875; "practically all" of the children are his, to quote Miss Strange. The smiling bareheaded gentleman is John T. Withers of New Jersey, the attending tree surgeon. T.P. THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of Coiiege Relations, St. John's Coiiege, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, Wiiiiam B. Dunham, Vice President. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. Jr. IN THE JULY ISSUE Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1975, by Robert S. Bart 1 Thucydides, Aristotle's Politics, and the Significance of the Peloponnesian War, by Leo Raditsa 5 Brothers of Our Father Jesus-The Penitentes of the Southwest, by Marta Weigle ......... . 14 Author Index-April 1969 through April 1975 20 Public Broadcasting; p. 4, Jon Hustis '76; pp. Commencements 21 15, 17: as shown on those pages; pp. 21, 23, Betty Lilienthal; p. 22, Jon Hustis. Ali pictures used with permission. Campus-Alumni News 23 Pictllie credits: Cover: Cultural Properties Re- view Committee-State Planning Office Files, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe; p. 3, Maryland Center for I am honored and I am grateful that you have invited me to celebrate this occasion with you in speech. And what a celebration it is! Today the chrysalis emerges from its cocoon to spread its wings as butterfly. Commencement is a Festival Day for us all. I am proud that you wish to listen once again to me: there is no audience that I know of whose merits make a higher demand on a speaker, none more intimidating than you, who are gathered together before me here. What listeners you are! This is the climax of our celebration. After yesterday's music and speeches, what can be added to these festivities? Yet is it not a perplexing time to celebrate? We are met today to bring to an end four years together, to take our leave of one another. We ail know how sad that is. Were your speaker an ambassador from the world outside, it would be different: he might report to you how he found things out there, and what in his view would be waiting for you as you commenced; commenced, that is, to take and to make your place in the world. In such commencement exercises, while your stay with us was ending, you would already be straining your sight on ahead to what you are about to begin. As it is, following a happy tradition of this College, you have asked one of your Tutors to mark this occasion with you: you have not overlooked that when about to begin a new life, it is well to pause in the forward rush of continuous time, to pay brief tribute to what we have shared together, to face the hazards which lie unknown ahead, calmly and in the sober light of a past weii spent. There is a very old Russian custom you have read of in War and Peace, at the moment when Rostovs are about to leave Moscow, in the panic at Napoleon's approach. The family gathers just before setting out on the journey, to sit for a moment of silence and peace before the break with the old life is made and the strenuous motion begins. Let us pause in some such way together now, under this giant and venerable tree (you must exercise your imagination!), whose gallant vigor and green deny what age and storms have done to it. The most precious gift that the very old bring to those of us who are yet younger is the way they bless life by embracing it with enthusiasm. When age rejoices, how can we be sullen? In a few minutes you will receive your diplomas. We whose care it has been to watch over you as your Tutors will no longer have that right and privilege. After this we meet as friends and equals. Your classes are over. Some of you mav be through with classes forever. In any case these classes are over. Let us think for a few minutes what they may have given you to take along with you as you depart: that may make the parting sweeter. It can't be French or music, can it?, or Maxwell and Kant? Not even Plato or mathematics. In your time with us you may weii have learned many things along the way: you may have come to delight in Greek mathematics, in the elegant phrasing of the dances of analogy and proportion; you may have relished the subtle nets into which that old Proteus the infinite is lured, the ingenious cages that constrain but never lay hold of that irrational monster: the method of exhaustion, the Dedekind cut, the limit definition that bounds the ultimate approach of a function repeiiing it as if by magnetism, at least to the extent of a tiny epsilon. You may know other artful devices as well. But that does not make you mathematicians. Despite all that you have seen and all that you have savored, our pro1 �Commencement Address Annapolis 1975 by Robert S. Bart I am honored and I am grateful that you have invited me to celebrate this occasion with you in speech. And what a celebration it is! Today the chrysalis emerges from its cocoon to spread its wings as butterfly. Commencement is a Festival Day for us all. I am proud that you wish to listen once again to me: there is no audience that I know of whose merits make a higher demand on a speaker, none more intimidating than you, who are gathered together before me here. What listeners you are! This is the climax of our celebration. After yesterday's music and speeches, what can be added to these festivities? Yet is it not a perplexing time to celebrate? We are met today to bring to an end four years together, to take our leave of one another. We all know how sad that is. Were your speaker an ambassador from the world outside, it would be different: he might report to you how he found things out there, and what in his view would be waiting for you as you commenced; commenced, that is, to take and to make your place in the world. In such commencement exercises, while your stay with us was ending, you would already be straining your sight on ahead to what you are about to begin. As it is, following a happy tradition of this College, you have asked one of your Tutors to mark this occasion with you: you have not overlooked that when about to begin a new life, it is well to pause in the forward rush of continuous time, to pay brief tribute to what we have shared together, to face the hazards which lie unknown ahead, calmly and in the sober light of a past well spent. There is a very old Russian custom you have read of in War and Peace, at the moment when Rostovs are about to leave Moscow, in the panic at Napoleon's approach. The family gathers just before setting out on the journey, to sit for a moment of silence and peace before the break with the old life is made and the strenuous motion begins. Let us pause in some such way together now, under this giant and venerable tree (you must exercise your imagination!), whose gallant vigor and green deny what age and storms have done to it. The most precious gift that the very old bring to those of us who are yet younger is the way they bless life by embracing it with enthusiasm. When age rejoices, how can we be sullen? In a few minutes you will receive your diplomas. We whose care it has been to watch over you as your Tutors will no longer have that right and privilege. After this we meet as friends and equals. Your classes are over. Some of you mav be through with classes forever. In any case these classes are over. Let us think for a few minutes what they may have given you to take along with you as you depart: that may make the parting sweeter. It can't be French or music, can it?, or Maxwell and Kant? Not even Plato or mathematics. In your time with us you may well have learned many things along the way: you may have come to delight in Greek mathematics, in the elegant phrasing of the dances of analogy and proportion; you may have relished the subtle nets into which that old Proteus the infinite is lured, the ingenious cages that constrain but never lav hold of that irrational monster: the method of exhaustion, the Dedekind cut, the limit definition that bounds the ultimate approach of a function repelling it as if by magnetism, at least to the extent of a tiny epsilon. You may know other artful devices as well. But that does not make you mathematicians. Despite all that you have seen and all that you have savored, our proI �The College gram has never allowed you to satisfy your natural desire to do at least one thing well; or so it may seem. (By the way, who could know the burden of that frustration better than your tutors, who for the most part have committed themselves for life to the frustration and confusion which you have endured for four years?) We who prescribed for you Greek and lab, and all those other things, what do we hope and expect that you will all have made your own, so as to take it along with you as you go? A week or so ago, at the Bolshoi Ballet I saw an exquisite dancer, as light as a bird. She poised herself on the point of one foot, adopting such perfect and graceful attitudes, executing such delicate motions with gesture of arms and head, of legs and feet, it seemed that only a winged deity could so articulate the music. Yet for all that, she was just a slip of a girl: to give her talents that polished form, she must have been in training from the time when she was a little child. Are you so lacking then in art that you must envy her achievement? Have you nothing like that to show for all these years of patient submission to the program's iron discipline? Of course you have. Only it is something that makes no display of itself, being modest. I have no hesitation in saying that you have spent these years in learning to listen: to listen better than ever before, and in a way that you did not imagine. It is hard, I know, to learn to speak, to express the feelings and desires and opinions we are aware of in ourselves. Yet almost every human being becomes proficient in that art, and says pretty much just what he means. Alas! that we are so reluctant to learn the related art of listening. It sometimes seems as if with all these master speakers, there were none left to hear. I am especially delighted when a visitor to our classes appreciates the kind of attention everyone pays to each speaker in turn. For not only is the art of listening indispensable for the right use of the mind (reading too is a kind of listening), but it is also the most gracious, the most open and the most generous of human habits. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you will be welcome and loved if only you continue to be able and eager to listen. To you, 2 as to Alyosha Karamazov, everyone will unfold the secrets of his heart and the most daring, the most difficult of his thoughts. Is there any aggravation more common in the world than to find one is speaking to deaf ears? Is it not a relief to find one doctor that can bear to listen to his patients? One executive, one bureaucrat, one parent, yes, one child, one business man or college president that supposes he could be told something he does not already know? Sometimes it seems they are all stone deaf in the mind! If we have put you in the way of curing some of that native inability to hear, we have helped you to become one of the rarest, dearest, and most sought-after creatures in the world. And indeed that is just what you are in the way of becoming, or so it seems to me as I listen to you each day in class, each of you attending closely to the other, opening himself to another's meaning, and when you fail to get it, ready to try again. With joy I see that this has become your very habit. What friends and lovers, what fellow workers, what parents and what children you may be, if you retain that sweet and modest habit when you have passed beyond the restraints of this particular community! And how shall you retain it? Perhaps it will help if you remember its causes and conditions, and fear the consequences of its loss. How has this wonder come about in you? What are its causes? That is, if miracles can have causes. I shall be brief, since for each of us both the idea and the experience are familiar enough, though no less wonderful for that familiarity. The causes are mainly two: ·first, your awareness of your ignorance, an awareness which we have done everything to sustain by the vast breadth and the rapid pace of the curriculum we have set before you and by its exalted standards; second, your concern to obtain the very understanding that you are aware of not possessing, or of not knowing how to lay hold of in and by yourselves. When a man thinks he knows, he abounds in speeches and commands; naturally he will not listen. When he does not care, though he may listen out of politeness or boredom, hoping to be amused, he will �July, 1975 not hear the meaning of a serious speaker or discover in himself a serious question. In addition there have been some essential conditions of your learning to listen this way: I will name two. To help you bear the burden of your ignorance and of your concern for unknown things, we have contrived that you remain detached from practical action as much as that is ever possible for adult men and women. This deliberate condition of irresponsibility could become mere indulgence in you, but it has also offered you an innocence in your reflections, freedom from the temptation to prejudging that action of any sort tends to present. Today that idleness ends: full responsibility begins. Ignorant or not, you must now act. Will reflection therefore stop and prejudice set in? A second condition we have imposed is that you treat one another with genuine courtesy, and more than cour- tesy if possible, with gratitude for the help that comes from sharing ideas; and friendship, too. Your tutors have constantly provided models. We have discouraged, we would have eliminated if we could, the natural taste for winning arguments. That ambition can sharpen the hearing, of course. It breeds a kind of close and concentrated attention; but it displays the cunning patience of a cat waiting to pounce, the iron patience of the enemy who can afford to await the one moment of weakness in which victory will come to him. But while the victor gloats and the victim smarts, all listening ceases. You know I do not mean that the student should merely listen: the requirement of listening is imposed on us by our own lack of knowledge. Now there are limits to that lack, as the learner proves by his questions. You know too well for me to need to stress that the first premise of this College is the absolute spontaneity of true learning: the learner will only make his own what he finds out for himself. All else is borrowed and at second hand, or third. Learning is a quest: on the silence of the listener follows the thrust vf his question. The best questions usually come as a surprise: they are the gift the listener makes to the speaker. The latter may feel threatened; he may even retreat. Nonetheless, the first obligation of the learner is to his question: there are victories essential to the life of the mind, victories over error that cannot be foregone out of courtesy and politeness. Some opinions and hypotheses can be shown to be false and their claims proved specious: in that demonstration passion and cunning, searching scepticism and relentless logic must all be summoned and used unsparingly. Let me remind you of a couple of cases. Ptolemy gives on the whole a reasonable and beautiful account of the movement of the heavens. The weakness of his theory, as you know, only begins to be felt as he works out the consequences in detail. But the trouble is right at the start, hidden in the original axioms and some plausible physics. They must be questioned; but you know the courage, the imagination, art and insight it took to correct that error. A mere question was not enough: the earth had to be set spinning in the heavens, and the mind had to come to terms with inertia. There may be a parallel in Marx. We Americans must never forget tha,t much, perhaps most of the world finds his theories persuasive, clear and scientific. His picture of alienation in the general moral poverty of our bourgeois society is perceptive and moving. But are there not questions that must be asked? Marx was the first perhaps to give productivity and technology their proper place in the explanation of the modern world: but does he for all that know their true roots? Does he not assume too easily that by a deft twist his account can appropriate to its own purposes the supple strength of Hegel's dialectic, outrageous as that dialectic may already be in its own context? Without that dialectic, what would become of the class struggle and the theory of capital? These are the keystones in the interpretation of history which itself is providing the basis for revolution all over the world. Learning requires that we be true above all to our serious questions; the circumstances of life may require of us that we pursue the truths we see to conflict and victory. But that is not my special theme this afternoon. I have now mentioned the conditions that seem to determine our happy way of listening to one another. If we 3 �The College Seniors Jane D'Agnese, Sandra Davenport, Matthew DeBacker, and Michael Dink, left to right. lack modesty, our listening fails, and learning ceases. Pride then, sure of itself, lets tragedy take shape. Achilles will hear nothing, though the embassy pleads with sense and eloquence. In fact the tragic hero seems to be born deaf. Creon is deaf to Antigone, Jason to Medea. Othello gives ear to Iago alone, while Desdemona's words fall helpless and unheard, or else are turned against her. Theseus only trusts Phaedra, hardening himself against his own son's assurances. Lear can hear in Cordelia only her restraint, and will not find the love. Unaware of their ignorance, they all make huge errors of judgment. Intransigent and implacable in their rage, the heroes hurl to ruin themselves and all they hold dear. But deafness is not always so grand: the ridiculous pretensions of ignorance are also the theme of farce and satire. As the Iliad provides the pattern for all tragedy, so it points the way back out of madness in a reconciliation which transcends tragedy. When he listens to the word his mother brings from Zeus, Achilles turns away from his insatiable and senseless fury. And again listening in wonder to Priam, he allows himself to be reminded of his own father. In the aged Priam before his eyes, he beholds the father he will never see again. With all his grace restored, he returns the hated body of Hector, aware with a new sadness of his own and Priam's losses. So too at the end of the Oresteia, the Furies, who once were so rigid in their confrontation with Apollo and Athena, demanding their rights, rights against rights, now yield to winged words, half in fear of Zeus, half in hope of new honors. Their merciless hate is transformed into a willing cooperation that brings peace and prosperity to Athens. After his madness abates, Lear calls himself 'a foolish fond old man.' When he is thus helpless he is open as never before to the words of love, and the forgiveness he needs. Cordelia is eager to offer him both. When he says she has cause not to love him, she hears his. full repentance. In her answer, 'No cause', her forgiveness annihilates his terrible curse in the first s.::ene, and completes a reconciliation unparalleled in literature. Is it only by passing through tragedy that we can hope 4 to come to such perfect and mutual understanding? In the dialogues Plato suggests that if we humble ourselves to the level of our ignorance and regularly in each case work out the limits of our knowledge, we may hope to find the questions that will carry us safely through. It is helpful, I imagine, to have Socrates for a friend, and great intellectual gifts besides. In a more universal mode, and one dearer to my heart, Shakespeare seems to hold out in his romantic comedies a promise of an understanding which does not presuppose such special gifts, nor on the other hand the experience of antecedent disaster. Listening is our clue today, and who is a more eager listener than the lover? Of course his passion had better be held in check a while, lest he pervert the sweet discourse of love to ends more restricted than the fullness of love requires. Rosalind chooses to keep her disguise even with Orlando, for fear that the violence of her passion, and his, may betray them into sudden folly. But when their courtship is over and it is time for love to have all his rites, Rosalind puts off her disguise and appears with Hymen. She begins a life with Orlando in perfect openness, now prepared by her sure possession of herself to give herself fully to him. From the bottom of my heart I hope for each of you that life will come to you freely with its best gifts, and that it will find you prepared to receive them. I thank you for your listening now, and in the past. I say without irony that you have always understood my words better than I have understood them myself. In what I have said today, if I am wrong, I know that you will correct me, and thus you will prove me right after all, by showing yourself, as I said all along, the best of listeners. May you be so fortunate as always to find others ready to listen and to question as faithfully as you have listened to me and questioned me. But if you are not so fortunate as to find them, your listening, I promise you, will go a long ways towards making them. This is the text of the Commencement Address given by Robert S. Bart on 25 May 1975. Mr. Bart has been a member of the Annapolis faculty since 1946. �July, 1975 Thucydides, Aristotle's Politics, and the Significance of the Peloponnesian War by Leo Raditsa This lecture is divided into four parts, two of them analytical and two narrative. I shall begin with a short discussion of the character of the Peloponnesian War, then I shall describe and assess the significance of the campaign of the Spartan Commander Brasidas in 424-423, the eighth year of the war. After some brief remarks concerning Aristotle's view of the Spartan constitution and its bearing on Brasidas' campaign, I shall turn to the events which occurred at Athens in 411, right after the failure of the Sicilian expedition. In the concluding section I shall attempt to understand the significance of the Peloponnesian War through Aristotle's Politics. Throughout-but not always in direct fashion-! shall be concerned with polarization and the relation of oligarchy and democracy. I have chosen the campaign of 424 B.C., because in his refusal to use the support of revolution among the subjects of Athens as an instrument of war, Brasidas drew an important distinction between policy and ideology. In 425 the Athenian politician turned general, Kleon, shocked the Greek world when he captured several hundred Spartan soldiers in the Western Peloponnese, at Sphacteria off Pylas. In reckless defiance of Pericles' warning not to engage the Spartans in direct combat, Kleon' s victory had cast doubt on Spartan heroism and courage. Brasidas' campaign in 424 represents a constructive response to the Athenian challenge to Sparta's reputation. Without it the Peace of Nikias, which ended the first part of the Peloponnesian War in 421, would not have occurred. Called the Archidamian War, this first part of the war had lasted ten years, from 431 to 421. In contrast to Brasidas' campaign, which is notable for its refusal to prosecute the war by encouraging revolution, the events in 411 B.C. show Athens herself for the first time having to cope with the kind of violence and intrigue which had been one of her own main instruments of aggression against her enemy's allies. With the failure of the Sicilian expedition the war for the first time came home to Athens. Treated in the eighth and last book of Thucydides, the crisis of 411 marks the beginning of the end for Athens. In the subsequent seven years of the war, which ends in 403, Athens never regains internal stability. I The Character of the Peloponnesian War 'The Peloponnesian War represents the decisive turning point in the history of the Greek city states. It ended but the Greek city states never recovered from it. There remained always a certain mistrust of self and forebodingone no longer dared so much, one feared more. The period following the Peloponnesian War, the fourth century, appears to be cut off by the Peloponnesian War from earlier traditions, especially the tradition of Marathon. There is a sense, however, in which much of its activity seeks to come to terms with it in some nonpolitical fashion: for you cannot come to terms with disaster, politically, I am thinking mainly of the experience of the distinction between the irrational and the rational which is so clearly drawn in philosophy, in Aristotle and Plato, How much of that experience is in some way related to the Peloponnesian War? For instance, in a few minutes I hope to show how Aristotle's Politics can be used to understand the Peloponnesian War. I am not sure Aristotle intended it for that purpose-and yet it does help to understand that event. I am saying that even though the Peloponnesian War destroyed the world of the independent Greek city states 5 �The College forever, something came of that destruction: a clear sense of the distinction between being out of touch with reality and in touch with it, of what it was to live in the world and outside of the world. Something analogous has occurred in this century. The very serious, probably irreparable damage which Europe has done to herself in this century was accompanied in the work of psychoanalysis by a powerful effort to distinguish the rational from the irrational, to live in a world, and to distinguish the world from one's fancies. Both movements or accomplishments,-the philosophy of the fourth century and the psychoanalysis of this century-have the strength which comes from facing up to weakness rather than denyrng it or wishing it away. That is why they can so easily be accused of undermining or weakening, when they are actually only attempting to uncover what has been undermined, to look at it in the plain light of day and see it for what it is. Certainly, they do not betray an easy confidence. They come from uneasy worlds in which it is difficult to distinguish doubt from worry, thought from brooding-and in which for that very reason real doubt indicates freedom from worrying and real thought freedom from distraction. What kind of event was the Peloponnesian War? What kind of war was it? In the beginning of his work Thucydides speaks of it as a kinesis-a movement, a disturbance. He sensed also that it was a big event which would drag almost everything along with it. It had the power of dividing the whole world. It would last a long time and it would spread. On the strength of that judgment, Tlmcydides began his work almost at the time of the events. (It is no small achievement to write, while the events are occurring, an accbunt that is more than a chronicle; most history is written after the events-a generation after at least.) In a remarkable passage Thucyclides indicates that the heavens and nature were active during the Peloponnesian War, that there were more natural disasters than usual-the whole earth was disturbed. In some sense the Peloponnesian War is two wars. This is I think the import of the speech of the Syracusan leader, Hermokrates, to the Sicilian cities. He says it is not unnatural for a city like Athens to rule where she can-and it is up to the cities whom she threatens to band together against her rather than to ask her to intervene in their quarrels-for Athens had not come to Sicily unasked. The first war is the war in which cities, faced with a threat from outside their country, band together and resist. This is the straightforward war of the old sort in which men can accept matter-of-factly that a foreign power will rule where she can. The second kind of war is something much more complex and problematical, and dirty. It is the war of division, of ideology. It is the war in which there is always one element in the city-usually the democratic element-which sides with Athens, which prefers the victory of Athens and of its party to the victory of the fatherland and its preservation. In this sense the victory of 6 Athens often also meant a revolution in which the citizens who had called her in came to power. In this kind of war one fought not for what one was, but for what one wished to become, whether oligarch or democrat, not for the world one knew but another which one did not know, which could, therefore, demand the unquestioning allegiance of those who have never disappointed you. One fought not for what one had but for what one dreamt of having. To the extent that the Peloponnesian War was a war of division, of external attack combined with internal revolution, it was a war of aspiration and, therefore, like all wars of aspiration, limitless. It asked of men that they betray themselves, their land and their friends and relatives, in the name of party and the higher truth, which is always synonymous with party. Thucydides stresses events at Corcyra in 427, because they marked the first appearance of the war of division, of civil combined with external war, which was to spread in the course of years to all the Greek cities. When they indulged in the war of division and encouraged others into it, which meant actually encouraging men to betray everything they were-that is why the words at Corcyra, as Thucydides says, no longer mean what they once didthe Athenians and the Lacedaimonians engaged in getting men to subject themselves, to turn their energies against themselves. In some sense this was to be the whole deeper movement of the war, especially on the Athenian side-for it never came to civil war at Sparta. If they had started out by attacking others and encouraging them to tear themselves apart, they ended by tearing themselves apart. T11e arms they had turned against others, turned against themselves. The few real statesmen who appeared in this war, the Spartan Brasidas, for instance, and the Syracusan Hermokrates, attempted to halt the war of division and aspiration and to fight the more straightforward war between sovereign states. In contrast to the war of aspiration, this kind of war usually has defined and achievable aimsand is, therefore, capable of being settled. The Boeotian statesman Pagondas grasped the deeper issue when he told the Boeotians: this is not the nsual border war, and you should not mistake it for such. It is not the kind of dispute where we argue about where to put the boundaries. The Athenians take up arms not only against neighbors but against anybody, against the world. The only people they respect are those who are willing to stick up for themselves. I think there is a profound truth in that observation of Pagondas. Certainly, the Athenians must have despised those who were ready to betray their country and friends for an imported democracy-they could have no illusions that such men loved themselves. It is precisely because the Athenians were interested in something as fundamental and as simple as who would stand up for himself that the war spread and questioned �July, 1975 all assumptions. The war of aspiration is a war about human nature and, what amounts to almost the same thing, human selkespect. When Aleibiades remarked that Socrates was the only man in Athens who could make him feel ashamed, he was talking about this same reckless quest for men who could stand up for themselves, who knew their true interests and loved life. One might say that the war of aspiration is a war fought by men who think they live in the world, while the first war, the war of limited objectives, is fought by men who know they live in a world. Oedipus at Colonus-that tragedy which came to life at Athens in 401, just after the end of the Peloponnesian War-is about a man and a king who has been cast out into the world and seeks to take root in a world again: that is why place is so important in it. In a sense what had happened to Oedipus had happened to almost everybody at Athens in varying degree. The Athenians had desecrated what was most their own, what they had thought most sacred-and in their instance, as well as that of Oedipus, it had been done unwittingly. For one really desecrates when one does not know one is doing it-that is what allegiance to party above country really means, the licence not to know what one is doing, that blindness, characteristic of those who are sure they can explain everything to you, that deadness, which has much murder in it, which comes with thinking you have all the answers. When you are involved in wars of aspiration you have to think you have all the answers. I am saying that wars of aspiration are great uprooters: they turn men into wanderers, into wayfarers, for whom the whole world is home-but who do not have a home. In the most obvious sense the war uprooted the Athenians by forcing them in from the countryside where their ancestral altars were and where their ancestors were buried. You remember Strepsiades at the beginning of the Clouds dreaming of the country-of the distinct fragrance of figs, of the silence and the simplicity. Unfinished spiritually and intellectually as well as ac· tually, Thucydides' work raised questions it does not answer except by its very existence. The central question is simply, "Is there anything that men who have the power to do, will not do?" That is, are there any values, truths, which are not conditioned by force? In a sense this question results from the loss of proportion and measurelessness. It is the question which occurs once that loss of the sense of proportion has occurred. Like all reductionist questions that of Thucydides is agonizing, for it questions one's capacity to live, and to believe, and to feel pleasure, and to know, all activities closely related to each other and interdependent. Because of this it is hard to recover from reading Thucydides. Thucydides resolved or at least set aside the agonies of this question by bearing witness and attempting to understand, or at least, describe, what happened. In that very act of description, and especially of judgement of the relative importance of events which came with it, and of which he is a great master, he restored a kind of proportion-but at the price of distance. That life he described was in an important sense no longer his own-he wrote for the future, perhaps even for us. The war spread somewhat like a disease-another reason why Thucydides stressed the plague, barely mentioned in modern accounts. The war involved all. It drew them towards it and disaster. You will remember, in Socrates' Apology, how clearly Socrates grasped the fear of those-inresponsibility, in the last years of the democracy and under the Thirty Tyrants. Because they knew they were doing wrong, they insisted on involving as many people as possible in their guilt. Occurring at the end of the war, the incident, I think, displays one of its principal mechanisms: its capacity to involve people in something they knew was wrong and despised, and to suck them in ever deeper, even to their destruction. In a sense Athens did this to Sparta. With one of the most revered constitutions in Greece, Sparta traditionally had respected the sovereignty of her allies-who were, in fact, more worthy of respect than the allies of Athens. Unlike the allies of Athens, the allies of Sparta had never ceased to look out for themselves. Where the Athenian allies had in effect entrusted their defense to the Athenian fleet, whose expenses they helped to cover, the allies of Sparta kept up their own armies. Despite this tradition of respect for sovereignty, Athens taught Sparta the technique of promoting revolution in the cities whose allegiance one desired. That is the technique of ruling by destroying the sovereignty of your would-be associates. In this contest with Athens, Sparta, however, was a fairly likely loser. For oligarchy could hardly be made into an effective rival of democracy. If it came to a choice, democracy was clearly the preferable alternative, Aristotle remarked. The point was to avoid coming to that choice. What was it that made the deadly rivalry between oligarchy and democracy so powerful, powerful enough to destroy the fabrics of the Greek city-states? To explain the deadly enmity between oligarchy and democracy Aristotle directly referred to the nature of rationality itself. That is, he clearly implies, there is a close connection between political conflict of the irrational sort and the make-up of individual men, of their character. Or, to put it in bookish terms, the Politics and the NicornaclJean Ethics are different aspects of the same thing. Once alliance and revolution became in some sense synonymous, that is, once it began to be accepted that change of sides in the Peloponnesian War entailed violent revolution or civil war at home, it became increasingly difficult to imagine any alternative to domination or slavery. The choice appeared to be increasingly between conquering or being conquered-and no one dared to think of a constitution which respected its own laws as anything but a naive fancy. You will remember also 7 �The College Kreon's gloating contempt for what he takes to be Oedipus' naive reliance on Theseus' guarantees and international law. In short there are only the two extremes, domination and servility-and no one is even able to think of the mean, which in this case is clearly freedom, that is, being ruled and ruling in turn. In this kind of polarization, it is clear, power comes to be confused with strengthwhich means that men will try to think they are strong when they are actually weak. In Aristotle's terms this attitude, which sees only two alternatives, either to dominate or be dominated, reflects a highly polarized society in which there are only rich and poor and no middle class. Excessively humbled by the harshness of life, the poor cannot distinguish between the broken obedience of a slave and the freely given consent of a freeman to a command. (In understanding that distinction, it helps to remember the wonderful fact that in Greek, the word for "obey" means "to be persuaded.") The rich on the other hand, spoiled from childhood by governesses and teachers who fawn on them and fear them, hardly know how to command. For they cannot imagine any one freely consenting to obey. A city, polarized between rich and poor, increasingly becomes a place where the ruling attitudes-! will not call them emotions, for at most they are only the dim remembrance of what it was like to feel-are envy and overwhelming contempt. II The Campaign of Brasidas in Chalcidice In one of his few references to foreign policy, Aristotle touches briefly upon the Peloponnesian War's tendency to exploit and increase the tendency to polarize between democracy and oligarchy in every Greek city. He says that there was only one statesman, at the time when the Athenians and Lacedaimonians held hegemony over the Greek cities, who renounced the policy of forcing revolutions in the states one desired to win over to one's side. Instead, this individual called to life, in the cities he dealt with, a constitution which in some ways represented the mean between oligarchy and democracy, which Aristotle calls simply "the constitution," or, as it is often translated, "polity" (.-o.\mia). Aristotle does not identify this individual, and there are many speculations as to who he was. A frequent candidate is Theramenes, the Athenian politician, prominent among the Four Hundred in the crucial year, 411 B.C. As far as I know no one has suggested the Spartan, Brasidas. He seems to me likely. But the question is not important. What is important is that an alternative to combining alliance with revolution was thought of, and attempted, during the Peloponnesian War. In my judgment it represented the only way of ending the war of aspiration by bona fide, negotiated settlement, that is a settlement between two sides which respect each other-rather than by 8 total destruction and its almost equally disastrous counterpart, total victory. Brasidas understood that by reducing herself to the same level as Athens, Sparta could never bring the war to a halt. For at the time, in 424, Sparta still entertained no ideas of victory. If that was anybody's delusion it was that of Athens. Sparta wanted above all the return of the Spartan prisoners, which, to the astonishment of all the Greeks, Kleon had captured near Pylas, and then a settlement which would end the hostilities. Yet by reducing herself to Athens' level, that is by posing in some sense as a rival, revolutionary power, Sparta had forfeited, almost without noticing it, much of the immense prestige she enjoyed among the Greeks. I imagine most of us think of Athens when we say Greece-but this was not the case among the ancient Greeks. If they did not think of themselves, they thought of Sparta. Think for a minute. With the exception of Homer, almost everything you read here is Athenian-or at least written in Athens, or in some way connected with Athens. Even our text of Homer comes in large part from an edition made under the patronage of the Pisistradids When we say Greek we mean for the most part Athenian. But I do not think this was so at the time, in the fifth century and probably also in the fourth. I do not think Athens was so important in the consciousness of the Greek peoples. In fact Athens represented a kind of intrusion in the consciousness of the Greek cities-"an education to all Greece," Pericles called it. In a way the Peloponnesian War represented an attempt to fight off that consciousness of Athens-or, if necessary, to come to terms with it. Athens represented something with which nobody could cope-and nobody can still cope-and something, as it turned out, with which she could not cope. At Athens everybody talked, and many learned how to speak and mislead each other. At Sparta, in old aristocratic fashion, deeds counted for a lot more than words. They knew more deeply than at Athens (though the Athenians also keep reminding themselves of it) that what one did counted for more than what one said. At Sparta a kind of silence reigned-even as it reigns now. It is the kind of silence that can hold the respect of those who talk too much, who chatter because they do not hear the silencemen for instance who do not know how to distinguish between the questions they are obliged to answer and those they are not. And when a Spartan spoke, like Brasidas, it could make a real difference and move people profoundly. Thucydides wrote of him that he spoke well, when one kept in mind that he was a Lacedaimonian. In a sense Socrates combines the virtues of both worlds, for he knew both when to speak and when to keep a silence-and when to listen. Of the Spartans some of the Greeks said, "All the Greeks know what is right but only the Lacedaimonians do it." In contrast to that kind of reputation, naval hegemony such as Athens exercised is not of much conse- �July, I 975 This funerary relief is probably an official monument to the dead, erected by the city of Athens at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War. quence. Brasidas-whom Thucydides describes as a man of piercing intelligence, and honorable-realized all that. He realized that by her indolence or her passivity, and by her readiness to indulge in the ugly practice of encouraging the violent dissolution of the Greek cities, Sparta was betraying her traditions. For freedom can either be a word, an ideology, that is, propaganda-or an actual concept, and as much a part of nature as the trees. And unless one knows the difference, one is liable to end up a slave who is convinced he is free-which is very much the contemporary style; and also the ancient one. In the Wasps of Aristophanes the realistic son tells his father, who is a fanatical follower of the politician Kleon, that he thinks he is free, but is actuallv slave of a master who gives little or nothing for his pains.· Thrown off-balance by the capture of several hundred Spartans at Sphacteria, Sparta in 425 feared that the Athenian presence in the Western Peloponnese might spark a rebellion of the helots. (In fact Sparta was panicked enough to murder several thousand of her most independent helots in cold blood.) It was then that the general, Brasidas, conceived of responding to the requests of the citizens of Chalcidice for support. The neighbor of the Chalcideans, Perdiccas, King of Macedon, ostensibly a friend of Athens, had also let Sparta know of his dissatisfaction with his relations with Athens. There was reason for Brasidas to make an expedition to these Northern regions. At the edge of the Greek world, Chalcidice had many little cities, with a mixed Greek and Greekspeaking barbarian population. Although these cities were by no means all Athenian colonies, the area had been for some time under Athenian influence. Its lumber and silver were important to Athens and it controlled the land, and, I think, the sea-route from the Hellespont, from which came a good deal of the grain which fed Athens. From the beginning Brasidas seems to have thought of his expedition as depending largely on the consent and support of the Chalcideans, who had in fact promised to feed his troops. It was in no sense to be a conquest. Brasidas' force consisted of something under two thousand soldiers. Look at his line of communications: Athens dominated the sea. By land, almost every people whose territory he had to cross were wavering in their allegiance to Sparta: Boeotia, Thessaly, Megara. If he did not succeed, there would be most likely no going back. We first catch sight of Brasidas near the Thessalian frontier. We hear him addressing Thessalian democrats sympathetic with Athens who oppose his passage through Thessaly on his way to Chalcidice. He tries to dissuade them by telling them that Sparta's enmity with Athens has nothing to do with Thessaly. Like Hermokrates before the Sicilians, Brasidas tries to· bring home to the Thessalians that their allegiance to themselves should come before their devotion to Athens. We next see him before the unexpectedly closed gates of Akanthus, on the Chalcidic peninsula of Akte. Outside, in the fields stretching out from the city, the grapes are thickening on the vines. Here, at the first stage of his campaign, which is crucial for setting the tone for the rest, Brasidas faces refusal. He does manage to gain permission to address the assembly, and, in a heated debate, he explains that he has come to free the cities of the area: freedom means independence or sovereignty, not democratic control necessarily. He guarantees their constitutions and their property-and declares that he has not come to take sides in a struggle between the few and the manv. If the Akanthians will not be convinced, he will destroy their crops. He must do this. He has come a long and dangerous way from Sparta to aid them, and it is simply impossible to stop at this point. He points also to the traditional reliability of the Spartans: the Akanthians can trust his word. Moved by his speech-and fearful for their crops-the Akanthians vote to allow Brasidas to enter and to break with Athens. A little while later at Amphipolis, the prominent Athenian colony on the Styrmon River, Brasidas follows the same policy. Although he could have taken the city by force, through the betraval of the oligarchically minded, he chooses to address the population, who, as at Akanthus, are largely democratic and adamant against having anything to do with him. Here again, however, his words convince the people of Amphipolis, especially his guarantee of their constitution and their property. Amphipolis' break with Athens shocks the Greeks. Satisfied that Brasidas means what he says, other Greek cities secretly let Brasidas know of their willingness to join him and Sparta. At Athens there is great alarm and fear that the revolt will spread to the other subject allies. In the middle of winter a few garrisons are sent to Chalcidice. For his part, Brasidas sends to Sparta requesting more troops, but at home there is not much enthusiasm for his 9 �The College accomplishment, even though it had thrilled the Greek world who had never before seen the Spartans pursue a policy with passionate commitment. Some are jealous, others think only of somehow contriving the return of the prisoners and stopping the War. Brasidas realized that the infectious and increasingly destructive spread of the Peloponnesian War could only be brought to a halt by reasserting the leadership of Sparta. This leadership had been disoriented for more than a generation by the new situation created with the victory over Persia. In order, however, really to reassert leadership you need a policy which backed by force will dispel ideology by its self-evident reasonableness. In these terms force means little more than that you mean what you say. Brasidas' policy was simply to sever alliance from revolution. Change of alliance would not involve change of constitution and expropriation. In short his policy was that obedience to the law was more important than the apparent ideological content of a constitution. Aristotle would have agreed with this. For in his view, either democracy or oligarchy would do, as long as they obeyed their own laws. There was another good reason why Sparta should attempt to create the conditions for a negotiated peace by rising above party, above encouraging the despairing alternation between oligarchy and democracy. In contrast to Athens whose way of life and constitution was decidedly democratic, Sparta was not really an oligarchy. In fact Aristotle points to the Spartan constitution as an example of the best practicable constitution which combines the element of oligarchy and democracy in such a way as to make it difficult to tell whether it is an oligarchy or a democracy. In addition Aristotle says that Sparta had the kind of "polity" which made reference to excellence. Because Sparta had fashioned a society in which money was of little importance, she was, in Aristotle's view, that kind of polity which is a combination of democracy and aristocracy, rather than oligarchy. In Sparta uniformity of dress, that is freedom from the costs and invidious distinctions of fashion, and common education minimized the distinction between rich and poor. All freeborn men could hold some office like the ephorate, others like those of the old men, the gerousia, were restricted to certain individuals. This view of Aristotle's implies that Sparta was violating her own character when she allowed herself to be lured into competing with Athens in fostering revolutions. By tradition and polity constituted to see the whole, she acted as if she only understood a part or one side-and the weaker side at that. At a moment when Sparta's losses at Sphacteria appeared to point to a decay in her traditions, Brasidas had rediscovered them in a policy which allowed him once again to refer to Sparta as the Defender of Greek Freedom. Unfortunately for Sparta and the Greeks, he was 10 killed in battle in Chalcidice in 422. III The Events in Athens in 411 Thirteen years after Brasidas' campaign in Sicily, Athens was forced to come to terms of some sort with the polarity between democracy and oligarchy she had done so much to encourage elsewhere. For great powers who cannot teach themselves, the only teacher is disaster. The events of 411 in Athens are inconceivable-without the Sicilian disaster which occurred in 413. Defeat in Sicily meant disorientation and temporary loss of confidence. Nobody knew what to expect. Many allies of Athens showed signs of wavering, especially the rich and powerful island of Chios, who showed her intention to defect from Athens openly in 412. In general attention shifted from the far west to the Eastern Mediterranean. In addition to Chios, Samos, Miletus, to a degree Lesbos are now to be the centers of attention. Also and most importantly, Persia now enters the war for the first time. To a large extent it was Alcibiades who had come from Sparta to Persia, who brought Persia again into the consciousness of the Greeks. This is another characteristic of wars of aspiration and betrayal, those who live and die in them ignore or deny obvious facts which might force them at least temporarily to drop their ideologies. Exiled from Athens, because of the mutilation of Hermae which had occurred on the eve of the Sicilian expedition in 415 and unable to return to Sparta, Alcibiades attempted to make the possibility of help from Persia the pretext for change at Athens. He sent a proposal to the oligarchically minded commanders of the Athenian fleet, stationed at Samos: he would bring Persia into the war on the side of Athens, if Athens agreed to change her constitution to an oligarchy and vote his recall. Alcibiades argued that the Great King could not possibly have any confidence in any arrangement made with the present extreme democracy at Athens. If Persia was to enter the war on the side of Athens, there must be a government at Athens which would win the confidence of the Great King. Speaking out against Alcibiades' proposal, Phrynichus, a statesman of some nobility, pointed out to his oligarchically-minded colleagues in Samos that Alcibiades had no particular devotion to oligarchic ideals but desired only to return to Athens. Persia would in any case trust Sparta more than Athens, because Sparta had never done her any real harm. Above all-and this was the real brunt of Phrynichus' advice-violent factional strife and revolution must be avoided at Athens. In its realization that no ideological yearning could possibly justify the undermining of law and the respect for law which violent change necessarily entailed, Phrynichus' advice recalls Brasidas' wisdom. It sounds, how- �July, 1975 ever, out of place. The times were much grimmer than in 424-and, therefore, men smarted at good sense. It appeared odd. It embarassed the shameless. The commanders voted to send a delegation immediately to Athens and the assembly to present Alcibiades' proposals. I shall call this delegation, the delegation of Pisander, after the oligarchic commander who led it. It was against a background of brutality that the delegation of Pisander arrived in Athens from Samos bearing the proposals Alcibiades had sent from Persia. The matter was brought up before the assembly. In a heated debate in which he questioned all of the opposing speakers, Pisander managed to persuade the Athenian demos to allow a reform in their constitution and to give him full powers to negotiate with Alcibiades and the Persians. Pisander's principal argument was what we call national interest. If Persia did not help Athens she would help Sparta and this would mean the defeat of Athens. In a sense the revolution at Athens started at this point and with something approaching the legal consent of the demos. As Pisander left Athens for Persia and Alcibiades he contacted all the secret societies of the upper classes and the aristocracy. One of the first acts to occur after his departure was the murder of a prominent and popular democratic speaker. When the murderers were not discovered and arrested, it became apparent that any one who was not suitable would be done away with. i,-tr~8""' became the slogan characteristic of the period. But appearances were kept up. The constitution appeared to function as before-only somehow debate was controlled. The democrats were worsted in their innermost convictions and dared not speak up. They felt thankful for having escaped violent death. Secret messengers slipped out of Athens to tell the fleet at Samos of the atrocities occurring at home. At the palace of Tissaphernes in Persia, Pisander did not have any success. Although the promises of Alcibiades had impressed the Athenian people, the commitment of the Athenian people did not impress the Persian. Alcibiades could not deliver. Outraged, the oligarchic commanders with Pisander now recognized the truth of Phrynichus' warning that Alcibiades held no particular commitment to oligarchy. This is the crucial moment in the revolution, the moment when the oligarchic revolution dropped any pretext of legality or foreign policy justification. Unable to negotiate the alliance with Persia which the demos had authorized, the commanders nevertheless determined to go on and seize power at their own risk and expense. In their judgment they had already gone too far, and now must do openly what they had before done covertly. Such were the immediate results of noticing Persia and listening to Alcibiades. Upon its return to Samos from Persia, the delegation of Pisander took a decision which is almost the direct opposite of the one taken by Brasidas. They determined that on their way to Athens to seize power, they should cause oligarchic revolutions among the most important of Athens' subjects. By bringing those like-minded with themselves violently to power, they expected to command but not to hold the respect of the subjects of Athens. This too is a characteristic of wars of aspiration, revolution and betrayal, that they take opposition for disloyalty -because they are too insecure to withstand criticism. The outcome, however, betrayed the expectation of Pisander and the other oligarchs. The upper classes of the cities welcomed the change to oligarchy, for they conceived of it as an encouragement to independence. They did not, however, take Athens seriously in her pretence of supporting well-ordered, aristocraticizing cities. They impugned her motives and in the course of several months deserted to Sparta. As it turned out, Pisander and the oligarchs encouraged the very defection they had wished to prevent. With the return of Pisander to Athens, the oligarchs called an assembly at Colonus, outside but within sight of the city, in which they restricted access to five thousand of the wealthier citizens. One of the first motions in this assembly concerned suspension of the ypa¢~ 1rapav6p.wv, the accusation which any citizen could lodge against another who made a motion in the assembly which was clearly illegal. In effect the constitution and all the laws were suspended. Further, the people were deprived of their franchise. '!be Four Hundred who were to replace the flo•·A~-and who actually were to force the flovA~ out of the council house in a few days with the aid of aristocratic thugs-were to replace themselves by coopting individuals from the Five Thousand. These changes are staggering-they represented a return to the situation before Solon, almost two hundred years before, who had first made the people part of the commonwealth. Thucydides recalls Pisistratus whose tyranny had come to an end almost a hundred years before. He also notes that the most excellent and talented men in Athens took part in this conspiracy. That is important, for it indicates how deeply upset the elite of the city were and to what extent they were dissociated from the democracy. One of the first acts of these men after they had seized power was to open negotiations with Sparta for peace. The test of an usurping government, however, is whether it can rule. The absence of a large part of the people away on active duty with the fleet had facilitated the seizure of power by the Four Hundred. When exaggerated reports of the crimes and atrocities and the suspension of the democracy reached Samos, the fleet fell into an uproar. All generals who were suspected of sympathizing with the Four Hundred were stripped of their command. The assembly of sailors and marines decreed the return of Alcibiades from Persia. In effect there were now two governments of Athens, II �The College one at Samos, the democracy, and the oligarchy at Athens -but there was also the war and it was the war and Alcibiades that finally kept the two governments from becoming two cities and destroying Athens. Upon his return to Samos from Persia the sailors demanded of Alcibiades that he lead them in arms against their native city. He faced them down, something, Thucydides judged, nobody else could have done. They had elected him general and he would command. Instead of leading the fleet against Athens, Alcibiades negotiated with the Four Hundred. Making it clear that his and their first priority ought to be the prosecution of the war, he told the Four Hundred he would accept the government of the Five Thousand but not the Four Hundred. This amounted to telling the Four Hundred they should become what they had always pretended to be, the more moderate government of the Five Thousand. Alcibiades' demand fonnd resonance in the ruling circles of the Four Hundred. Here there was much dissension especially among those whose expectations of power had been disappointed. Further, a clear and crucial difference in respect to foreign policy obtained among these men. The extreme oligarchs appeared more and more to be willing to settle with Sparta on any fair terms, the milder oligarchs desired, like the fleet at Samos, to prosecute the war. About such a matter there could be no compromise. With the support of Alcibiades the milder oligarchs succeeded in ousting the extremists, the hard core of the Four Hundred. The new government they established was actually based on the Five Thousand. More importantly, it immediately set to restoring the laws. In contrast to the Fonr Hundred it would obey the law. Its two most characteristic measures were the limitation of military service to the richer class.es and prohibition of all payments for offices including the payments for jury duty and attendance at the assembly which Pericles had first instituted. Of this government Thncydides said it was one of the most apt mixtures of oligarchy and democracy he had experienced-and provided Athens with the best government of his time. Since this new constitution excluded many men from exercising citizen rights, it hardly amounts to an exact equivalent of Aristotle's polity. But it had much of the spirit of polity. The extreme oligarchy of the Four Hundred had confused assurance with mnrder and had been much too anxions to settle with Sparta; the extreme democracy had undertaken the war of aspiration, division, and betrayal. In some sense a mean between these two extremes of violence and servility, the government of the Five Thousand, had it lasted, might have negotiated an hononrable peace with Sparta. This is no more than a guess. I mean it might have grown balanced enough not to define itself in terms of what it hated. But perhaps it was too late. The Spartan Brasidas, by refusing to interfere in the 12 internal affairs of the cities whose alliance he sought, and the Athenians, when they attempted to contrive a government that took better account of the few and the many, represent attempts on the part of statesmen to combat the polarization between democracy and oligarchy that increasingly became the basic mechanism of the war and especially the basic reason for its spread. IV Aristotle and the Peloponncsian War In my discussion up to now, I have on occasion re~ £erred to Aristotle's conception of polity, as a combination of oligarchy and democracy. Aristotle's attitude toward polity is paradoxical. At the same time that he makes it clear that it is the best of attainable constitutions, he also emphasizes its rarity-and does not explain it. In my judgment Aristotle's discussion of polity provides a powerful understanding of the function of polarization. I do not know if he was trying to understand the Peloponnesian \Var when he discovered the conception of polity. But clearly he was trying to understand how it came about that oligarchy and democracy, the few and the many, were so often antithetical, so often enemies unto death, when in actuality and nature they were complementary parts of a whole and could not be themselves without each other. In short he was trying to understand why men hated so much just what they needed to make them whole. Why the many hated the few, and the few the many, when the many could not respect themselves, if they did not respect the few, nor the few respect themselves when they did not respect the many for what they were. That is, a city could not have any true values, which means it could not experience life itself, joy, pleasure, knowing, unless in some way it had living space for both quantity and quality, for both democracy and oligarchy. And this could not occur without a sense of proportion, without a sense of the relations which obtained between things not directly comparable on a one-to-one quantitative basis. Without this sense of proportion, without being able to see how parts relate to each other in other than quantitative terms, it was impossible to distinguish between one thing and another except in quantitative terms, in terms of what was bigger than another. The perception of all relations of quality was blunted. It became difficult to distinguish between a father and a son: they in fact appeared interchangeable, as happens in the Clouds between Strepsiades and Pheidippides. In simplest terms this means that it was a world in which it was difficult to grow. Also, it became difficult to experience difference, for instance, be- tween relatives and other men. It is not an accident that theories concerning the abolishment of the family arise in an Athens on the one hand democratic enough to confuse egalitarianism with liberty, on the other so oligar9hic that she can attempt for a short time to exclude most of her �July, 1975 population from citizenship. Nor is it accidental that the story of Oedipus who could not tell who were his parents takes on undeniable clarity in this same levelling Athens. The oligarchs reacted to this levelling with a correspondingly outrageous ideology of difference. Because of birth and wealth they claimed innate superiority in all things. There was no question that both oligarchs and democrats were in some sense right, because both equality and inequality exist in nature. But they were both wrong in wishing to make what they understood into the whole truth. Tbey were wrong because it is impossible to understand quantitative equality without understanding the reciprocal equality which exists between unequals. By extending their truth beyond its compass, oligarchs and democrats were exploiting it to deny an equally valid truth. This is a common mechanism in politics, a deeply rational principle used to justify an irrational one which undoes its justifier. For instance, when he is discussing how a polity com· hines democratic and oligarchic elements to create something on some occasions different in kind from either democracy and oligarchy, Aristotle gives the example of selecting magistrates. In oligarchy the magistrates tend to be elected from a restricted number of candidates, in democracy all citizens are eligible for office but they are chosen by lot. Polity combines the two institutions in a manner which distinguishes their rational from irrational features. From democracy it takes the noble principle that all should be eligible for office, from oligarchy the equally rational principle that choice of magistrates should be made in responsible fashion, that is through election. From democracy it takes freedom of choice, from oligarchy the sense of responsibility for choice. At the same time polity discards the irrational notions which the deeply rational principles of democracy and oligarchy had been made to justify. It does away, for instance, with the in· credible institution of the lot. For the principle that all men shonld be eligible for office does not imply that one man is as good as another. If one thinks it does, one is merely saying that one has contempt for the best that is in one, for the very thing one aspires to. Polity also does away with the equally irrational notion that recognition of the responsibility of choice somehow implies that choice should arbitrarily be limited beforehand. This example also shows how democratic and oligarchic institutions when isolated from each other tend to under· mine each other, but when put in the presence of each other, strengthen and define each other. Polity is a mean. Like the mean of the Nicomachean Ethics it contains the extremes in some fashion. But at its best the mean is also different in kind from the extremes. That is by containing them, by bringing them into dialogue with each other, polity transforms the extremes. Aristotle's connection of polity with the mean is cru· cia], for it shows that polity is more rational than either of the extremes of oligarchy or democracy. And if it is more rational it is more capable of doing the apt thing at the fitting time for the right reason. That is it will know when to fight and when to make peace, when to insist on equality and when on difference, when on quantity and when on quality. It will not insist on equality in order to deny rational inequality or on quantity in order to overwhelm quality. It will not make peace, because it fears to fight-or fight because it fears peace. Most simply, it will know the difference between one thing and another, pleasure and pain, knowledge and ignorance, courage and arrogance, strength and power and so on. The Peloponnesian War represents a denial that political life had shape or proportion and at the same time testi· fies to the inability to perceive it and stand the pleasure accompanying its perception. One comforted oneself for that inability by destroying others outright or tempting them to destroy themselves, by letting things work, by reductionist thoughts seeking to persuade others because they did not convince oneself. These thoughts tolerated no answers, brooked no obstacles and spread through the weakness which comes of not being able to point to the obvious. Men repeated what they did not believe, because they feared to be overwhelmed by the truth-and its modesty which appeared to them shameless. It is this which Thucydides means when he says things are turned inside out and words denote something close to the opposite of what one used to know. No one can read Thucydides without wondering if values, if valuing one thing above another, is in any sense a part of nature-rather than something most men pay lip service to, but only fools believe. To ask this question amounts to asking nothing else than if men can live, rather than merely exist, feel life in them rather than merely yearn for it. The Peloponnesian War was a war about the inability to live. With the victory over Persia the Greeks, especially the Athenians, realized they were free to do what they pleased. In the Peloponnesian War they discovered there was nothing stopping them except themselves. Author's Note: The chief question during the discussion that followed was whether it was anachronistic to describe the struggle between democracy and oligarchy during the Peloponnesian War as a struggle between ideologies. In contrast to the justifications for violent seizure of power since the French Revolution, the Greeks of the fifth century, it was suggested, did not believe that the truth of their views licensed them to do what they could to obtain what they would. More clearheaded about their motives than the moderns, they did not indulge in the fancy that they could fundamentally change human life and character for the better through violence. Fina1ly it came to this: Was Stalin a tyrant simply or a man whose crimes found some excuse in a "higher, self-evident truth"? This is a fundamental question of our lives and divides our world. Hesitation in its regard tells of tragedy-and invites it. But we hesitate. L.R. Leo Raditsa has been a tutor in Annapolis since 1973. TI1is is the text of a lecture delivered in Annapolis on February 14, 1975. l3 �The College Brothers of Our Father JesusThe Penitentes of the Southwest by Marta Weigle Meanwhile, the sun sinking at our backs had turned the cliffs across the valley into splendid cathedral shapes of rose and saffron beauty-a beauty tbat is touched here in this country with a sometimes terrible sense of eternity~ 1oneliness 1 and futility. For all the gay laughter of youth on the hillside, the stark parable of the Crucifixion is close to the country's soul. It eats into the heart, this terror; and it is not difficult to imagine how the early Franciscans felt, as they gazed upon this terrible afternoon light on bare mesa and peak, and felt the thorns of this eternal loneliness pressing into their souls. Actual mortification of the flesh is perhaps less poignant. (Brothers of Light, 1937, p. 49) This is how Alice Corbin Henderson describes Good Friday at the tiny New Mexico village of Abiquitl sometime in the early 1930s. Hers is a poet's view of the same land which has since inspired Georgia O'Keefe's artistic vision. It is also a sensitive and compelling account of the Holy Week rituals of the Brothers of Our Father Jesus, more commonly, and too often pejoratively, known as the Penitentes. For nearly two centuries, this lay brotherhood of devout Catholic men (women were generally auxiliaries only) provided material aid and spiritual support to Hispanic villagers in the mountain and river valleys of what is now northern New Mexico and southern Colorado ( until1861 part of New Mexico). The heart of New Mexican Spanish Catholicism is Franciscan. From the establishment of Don Juan de Onate's first colony in 1598, until the Pueblo Revolt of 14 1680, the friars were the only religious on the isolated northern frontier, which was designated the Custody of the Conversion of St. Paul and administered from the Franciscan Province of the Holy Gospel in Mexico City. After Captain General Diego de Vargas' reconquest ( 169296), the colony's spiritual affairs continued to be dominated bv the Franciscans. Although the Custody was officially annexed to the Diocese of Durango in 1729, neither the Bishops of Durango nor the Provincials in Mexico City were ever able to supply sufficient clergy for the remote region. When Fray Francisco Atanasio Dominguez visited the interior of New Mexico in the spring of 1776, he reported that 22 missions and 20 priests served a population of 18,344, including Indians. In 1812, Don Pedro Bautista Pino's belated report to the Spanish Cortes stated that the 26 Indian Pueblos and 102 Spanish settlements were served by only 22 Franciscan missionaries and 2 secular priests. Pino pleaded with the Spanish authorities to grant New Mexico a bishop and twelve additional ecclesiastics, preferably Franciscans because "the settlers have become so accustomed to seeing the Franciscan gown that it is likely that any other order would not be so welcome." The beleaguered Spanish government could not heed Pino's pleas, and the ecclesiastical situation in New Mexico continued to deteriorate even after Mexican inde~ pendence in 1821. In 1833, when Don Jose Antonio Laureano de Zubiria, Bishop of Durango, made the first episcopal visitation of interior New Mexico since 1760, he was alarmed to find bermandades de penitencia, brotherhoods of penance, or, as he preferred to call them, de carniceria, of carnage. These Penitentes practic.ed excessive public self-mortification and cross-bearing and, at least at Santa Cruz, met in a room specia11y maintained for their purposes. Zubiria considered such congregations and im- �July, 1975 ABOVE: Calvaria; UPPER RIGHT: The east morada at AbiquiU. Built between 1820 and 1850, this may be the oldest surviving morada in New Mexico; LOWER RIGHT: Principal reredos behind the altar at El Santuario de ChimayO (see cover). The large crucifix represents Our Lord of Esqulpulas; its prototype is the miraculous Black Christ of Esquipulas in southeastern Guatemala. Painted images across the top of the reredos represent (left to right): the Holy Cross with lance and five wounds of Jesus; the Franciscan emblem, the crossed arms of Christ and St. Francis; and the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, or Cross of the Holy Sepulchre. The figure on horseback in a glass case to the right is St. James, known here as Sei'ior Santiago. (AU except photograph above from the Cultural Properties Review CommitteeState Planning Office Files, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe). moderate penances to constitute a potential threat to Church authority. His injunction was the first of many in a long and complicated series of misunderstandings between the Brotherhood and the ecclesiastical hierarchy. The exact origins of the Brotherhood will probably never be known, but there is good evidence for a strong Franciscan influence on its rituals and rules. Most likely, the neglected pioneers resourcefully patterned local observances of Holy Week, to them the most important event in the Church year, after rites fostered by the friars. These traditionally included various forms of selfdiscipline, primarily flagellation, the Via Crucis or Way of the Cross, and other devotions centered on the Passion of Jesus. The emergent Brotherhood also sponsored funeral services, another crucial function in the isolated com~ munities. On August 18, 1846, acting Governor Juan Bautista Vigil y Alarid surrendered New Mexico to BrigadierGeneral Stephen Watts Kearny, and the northern province of Mexico became the southwestern frontier of the United States. Pope Pius IX transferred the Vicariate Apostolic of New Mexico to the Archdiocese of St. Louis in 1850, and the newly consecrated Bishop Jean Baptiste Lamy arrived in Santa Fe in the summer of 1851. The transition to a North American Church largely administered by French clergy was not a smooth one. However, the Brotherhood 15 �The College provided an organization throngh which native Hispanos could learn to cope with new political, ecclesiastical, social, and linguistic forms while preserving familiar patterns of community, worship, and language. Unfortunately, many Anglo newcomers, few of whom were Catholic, compounded an already difficult situation by publicizing sensational accounts of the "weird" rites of "fanatical" and "death-worshipping" descendants of the Medieval flagellanti. These inaccurate descriptions soon led to the desecration of community observances by scores of uncomprehending outsiders. Penitente-hunting became a kind of sport, and the few sober and sensitive portrayals of the Brotherhood, such as Henderson's, were inundated by a stream of irresponsible, opportunistic pieces, which still continue to be published. Such journalism is above all vicious; it disregards both the important year-round fraternal and charitable purposes of the Brotherhood and the faith which inspires this intense devotion to the Passion. On January 28, 1947, Archbishop Edwin V. Byrne signed an official statement recognizing "the Brothers of Jesus of Nazareth (commonly called the Penitentes), in order to clarify their status both to Catholics as well as to non-Catholics." This was an attempt to end the century or more of difficulty and ambiguity between Church and Brotherhood. Byrne stated "that the Association of Hermanos de Nuestro Senor Jesus Nazareno is not a fanatical sect apart from the church, as some seem to think, but an association of Catholic men united together in love for the passion and death of our Blessed Lord and Saviour." The late Don Miguel Archibeque was largely responsible for paving the way to this reconciliation. He helped organize local chapters and councils of chapters into the Archbishop's Supreme Council, and Byrne appointed him the first Hermano Supremo Arzobispal (Archbishop's Supreme Brother). (The third Hermano Supremo Arzobispal, Sr. M. Santos Melendez of Mora and Albuquerque, now leads the Brotherhood.) In 1958, Archbishop Byrne presented Archibeque with a copy of a limited edition portfolio entitled The Way of the Cross: A New Mexico Version and edited by Reginald Fisher. In part, a translation of the inscription reads: For Don Miguel Archibeque ... in appreciation of the important role his Brotherhood has had in the development and preservation of this beautiful expression of the true vocation of New Mexico Spanish people. Brotherhood devotion is expressed through prayer, meditation, discipline, and music in both public and private rituals and processions. None of these expressions are aberrant; all have precedent in the history of Spanish Catholicism and its mystical, penitential and Franciscan traditions. Together, they added a vital sacred dimension to rural life in the harsh new land. It is impossible to describe a single Brotherhood ritual. 16 Observances vary from year to year and from place to place. An elected Hermano Mayor (Elder Brother), guided by local tradition and contemporary conditions, oversees all worship, deciding which services, processions, and penances are collectively appropriate for that Holy Week. Individual Brothers also have various personal vows to fulfill through particular exercises or visits. The brief descriptions which follow are therefore generalized, and they refer not to current practices, which have been considerably modified and are more often conducted in private, but to customary patterns of worship in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Throughout Lent local chapters, called moradas (a word which also refers to the Brothers' meeting-house itself), met on Friday nights to worship and prepare for Holy Week. From Holy Tuesday through Good Friday night, the Brothers would be in retreat at the morada. During this time they slept little-maintaining constant vigils, welcoming and worshipping with groups of visitors from the village and from neigh boring moradas, and undertaking various public and private processions and services. Their nutritious, meatless meals were brought to them by specially designated men or female auxiliaries. Penances included fasting, long hours of prayer and meditation while kneeling on arroz ("rice"-small, sharp stones from anthills strewn on the floor of the morada chapel), and self-flagellation with disciplinas (whips) of loosely plaited yucca fibre. Another common form was to drag a heavy wooden madera (cross) to a spot designated as the Calvaria (Calvary) by a large upright cross. This discipline was especially strenuous because maderos are taller than a man and weigh several hundred pounds. Still other penitents might wrap themselves in ropes, cactus, or chains, or bind their arms to small crosses. Novices and Brothers engaged in active penance were known as Hermanos de Sangre (Brothers of Blood). Hermanos de Luz (Brothers of Light) were either the elected officials of the morada or aJ.l full-fledged members accompanying those doing penance. When active penitents appeared in public procession, they wore not only the obligatory- white calzones (trousers) of the Hermano disciplinante (Brother in discipline) but also a black venda (hood) to insure humility. In certain moradas, pulling the death cart was a traditional penance, especially during Good Friday processions. Carved figures of La Muerte (Death, known in New Mexico as Nuestra Comadre Sebastiana or Dona Sebastiana), depicted as a skeleton uncovered or clothed in black, were seated in small carretas (carts) filled with stones to increase the difficulty of the exercise. One or two Brothers dragged the cart by means of a horsehair rope over the shoulders and around the bare chest. Instead of the traditional scythe, New Mexican Muertes carried a bow and arrow or occasionaiiy a wooden hatchet. Almost every village preserved a legend recounting the time Sebastiana's arrow feiicd an unbelieving bystander. �July, 1975 ABOVE: Yucca disciplinas. The whips were dipped in an antiseptic solution before use. UPPER RIGHT: The simulated crucifixion at San Mateo, New Mexico, on Good Friday, 1925. This was an elaborate enactment, much doser to a passion play than most. Note that all three men are standing on platforms. RIGHT: Nuestra Comadre Sebastiana, Death in her cart with drawn bow and arrow. Photo" graph taken in the 1930's. BELOW: Brothers from Cuba, New Mexico (wearing ribbons signifying official status), are received by Brothers from Cubero, New Mexico, April c. 1908. Before 1912, Brothers from Cuba made a lengthy annual pilgrimage of several hundred miles. Note the standard at their head and the violinist and guitarist standing in their midst. (Upper right and right from the Dorothy Woodward Collection, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe. Photograph below from the Collections in the Museum of New Mexico, reproduced here from Weigle, The Penitente~ of the Southwe~t, with permission of Ancient City Press, Santa Fe.) BELOW: Six Brothers of Blood flagellate themselves during an exercise at a Calvaria. Photograph taken by E. M. Cosner, probably near Wagon Mound, New Mexico, in the early 1890's, and copyrighted in 1896. (From the Dorothy Woodward Collection, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe.) 17 �The College However, the Brotherhood did not worship death; Muerte figures and sometimes human skulls served as mementa mori, reminders of mortality and of the necessity to prepare the soul for its departure from the body. Whatever their form, penitential exercises were never uncontrolled masochistic or sadistic tortures. Outside the morada, penitents were almost always accompanied by Acompafiadores or Ayudantes (Helpers) and by Brothers singing, praying, playing the pita (flute), and carrying small crosses and santos (sacred images) as guides. Devotion, not destruction, was the goal of self-discipline. Revenant Brothers often joined night-time processions. These ghostly penitents appeared as transparent, hooded figures who scourged themselves silently on bloodless backs. They were thought to be deceased members who had either broken vows or been unable to fulfill them due to an untimely death. Stories of such encounters a.Jso instilled respect for Brotherhood privacy among non-members. In fact, many villagers referred to Brothers of Blood as people of the dead and kept their distance from such processions. The community was invited to visit the morada during Holy Week and to participate with the Brothers in certain observances. Brothers and other villagers followed an outdoor Way of the Cross on various occasions. Small wooden crosses marked each of the fourteen Estaciones (Stations). Worshippers knelt at each one while the Rezador (Reader) read an appropriate meditation and led the prayers. Alabados (hymns) were sung as the people walked to the next Station. Most enactments of final events in Jesus' earthly life were highly stylized and symbolic tableaux which focused on a single moment and more often involved wooden santos than human actors. Some moradas dramatized the Emprendimiento (the seizure and religious trial of Jesus) on Holy Thursday. Many observed El Encuentro (the Encounter), the meeting of Jesus and His mother along His way to Calvary (the Fourth Station of the Cross), on Good Friday morning. El Encuentro is an especially moving rite, particularly for the women. They process from the church or chapel, carrying an image of the Virgin Mary, usually N uestra Seiiora de los Dolores (Our Lady of Sorrows). The Brothers come from the morada bearing a large robed statue of the Cristo with arms bound and a crown of thorns. When the two groups meet, there is a recitation or a hymn commemorating the Passion. At the appropriate time, the figures are tipped and brought close together in a symbolic last embrace of Mother and Son. In some places, elements of the sixth Station of the Cross, Veronica wiping Jesus' face, were incorporated into the Encuentro; in others, Las Veronicas, young village girls, took part in Good Friday afternoon observances. The simulated crucifixion, which formerly took place on Good Friday afternoon, was a climactic time of intense religious feeling. The man who played the cherished role 18 of the Cristo was chosen by miracle or inspiration, by lot, by appointment, or by selection from among petitioners. Since actual crucifixion was never intended (and rarely resulted), this man was usually young and sturdy, and his sacrifice closely supervised. There is absolutely no substantiated evidence for nails ever having been used, and it seems very unlikely that the community would risk losing any able-bodied man. Two contemporary accounts by sympathetic onlookers convev the sense of this momentous interlude. The first is set 'at C6rdova, New Mexico, during the early part of this century. Lorin W. Brown, then a resident of the village, wrote the description for the New Mexico Writers' Project of the W.P.A. In front of the morada is a large cross used on this occasion. Amidst the weeping of the women and the pitying comments of the men, the blindfolded figure is led to the base of the cross. To a descriptive reading of this scene in the life of the Redeemer, he is raised to the -beam. His arms are tied tightly, and his legs are cruelly bound to partially support his body. His head drops to his chest as impeded circulation makes him Jose consciousness. A sponge is carried to his lips, simulating the scene on Calvary. After a time, his apparently lifeless body is carefully lowered and carried inside the morada, there to be brought back to life bv massage and hot drinks brewed from herbs. The crowd leaves, this last scene so impressed on their minds that some of the women are still sobbing. The second account is Henderson's; it precedes the in- terpretive paragraph quoted at the beginning of this article. In the 1920s and 1930s, the village of Abiqui(t was often mobbed by curious outsiders during Holy Week, and manv writers, artists, and even the Governor of New lviexico '~'itncssed Brotherhood observances. The Morada meanwhile gave no sign of life, save for a thin line of smoke going up from the chimney and, in watching the people on this hillside, we had almost forgotten the object of our waiting, when, without any preamble what~ soever, a man came out the door of the Morada and commenced to dig a smaH deep hole a little way in front of the house. The whole hillside became hushed at once, and everyone crowded along the stone wall. ... Then, finally, a group of men came out carrying a small wooden platform on which stood the almost life-sized Cristo in a red dress. Again the door opened, and the heavy cross, with a living man bound upon it, was carried out, with its cross-beam upward, through the door and laid upon the ground with its foot on the edge of the �July, 1975 hole made ready to receive it. Slowly and carefully the cross was raised into place, turned facing the Morada, and made firm; and on the cross hung the supreme penitent, in imitation of his Saviour. Facing the penitent on the cross stood the red-robed Cristo, who, with eyes no longer blindfolded, thus acknowledged His Jiving disciple. At the foot of the cross, the Hermano Mayor and other leaders of the Brotherhood knelt praying. The black-cowled figure on the cross wore only the white cotton drawers roJied up as a Join-cloth. His wrists and arms were bound to the main timber by a horse-hair rope. Around his chest, a band of linen supplemented the rope, and eased the strain somewhat. For ten, fifteen, seventeen minutes . . . the figure hung on the cross; then the black-cowled head suddenly feJI forward, the body slumped, and the men slowly lowered the cross and carried it into the Morada with the limp figure hanging upon it. The men with the Cristo foJiowed singing and the door closed upon them. (Brothers of Light, 1937, pp. 45, 46, 49) Clearly, neither of these scenes is a literaJiy enacted passion play as many outsiders have intimated. Passion plays as such were unusual, and the Passion was more frequently evoked through long narrative hymns (Richard Stark of St. John's in Santa Fe is preparing a detailed historical and musicological study of New Mexican alabados.J, the Way of the Cross, penitential processions, and these stylized, dramatic tableaux. The final observance during Holy Week was Las Tinieblas, Tenebrae services very similar to official Roman Catholic ones. During the Middle Ages, Tenebrae (from the Latin: darkness, lower world, death) were conducted in total darkness, giving the ritual its name. Psalms were sung and candles extinguished one by one to indicate the Apostles' desertion of Jesus. The removal of the last candle symbolized Jesus' burial and its reappearance His resurrection. The din at the end was originaJiy the sound of chant books being closed, but it came to be interpreted as the chaos following Jesus' death at -the "sixth hour," when "there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun's light failed" (Luke 23:44-45, RSVJ, and "the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom; and the earth shook, and the rocks were split; the tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had faJien asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many" (Matthew 27:51-53, RSV). Usually held on Holy Thursday and Good Friday nights and preceded by a rosario (rosary service), the Brotherhood's Las Tinieblas is open to members and non-members. In the past, active penitents might prostrate them- selves in front of the door so worshippers would step on them while entering the church or morada. Then the Brothers of Blood would gather in the back or in a side room for the service. After the doors are closed, the only light comes from thirteen to seventeen candles in the triangular white candelabra (candelabrum), the black tenebrario (special candle holder), or on the altar. Each candle or pair of candles is extinguished foJiowing the singing of an alabado verse. When the last light has been removed or covered, a signal is given, and a period of loud, raucous noise ensues. Chains, matracas (wooden ratchets), drums, flutes, clapping, and stamping simulate the time of chaos. Formerly, the Brothers of Blood flageJJated themselves during the cacaphony. The tumult alternates with periods of silence during which sudarios (prayers for the dead) are offered for deceased relatives by request from various members of the audience. The single candle is finaJiy brought back, and the rest relit from it. If the event is held in a church, the Brothers leave first, walking backward through the front door. If it is at a morada, the visitors depart immediately. Lenten and Holy Week observances have been emphasized in most accounts of the Brotherhood, but they are by no means the only important purpose of the organization. The Brothers of Our Father Jesus require fraternity, community, and piety of all members. They annually commemorate the Passion of Jesus, but they also attempt to emulate His life by living simply and morally and by performing unobtrusive good deeds. This rule is vividly expressed by former Brother Cleofes Vigil of San Cristobal, New Mexico. Vigil is quoted in Stan Steiner's La Raza (Harper & Row, New York, 1970, p. 4). He describes the old days when a man whose harvest was ready did not have to ask help from his neighbor because: "His neighbor watched the field of his neighbor, and he knew when it was time to go and help ... That is the way it should be. A man should help his neighbor without being asked." In the past at least, moradas conducted important rituals at times of death, during Lent and Holy Week, and on various feast days. The Brothers arc still organized to render mutual aid and to help their communities throughout the year to the best of their now limited resources. Collective as well as individual life is thus enhanced and has at times been sustained by the Brotherhood's objectives and observances. Marta Weigle was a Freshman at St. John's, Annapolis, in 1961-1962, went on to Radcliffe, and took her Ph.D. degree at the University of Pennsylvania in 1971, with a dissertation on the Brotherhood. She is now a member of the Faculty of the University of New Mexico. Her publications include The Penitentes of the Southwest ( 1970) and (as editor) Echoes of the Flute (1972). A volume she edited on Hispanic Villages of Northern New Mexico is due out this summer, and in the winter the University of New Mexico Press is bringing out her two- volume work tentatively entitled Brothers of Light, Brothers of Blood: The Penitentes of the Southwest. 19 �~~ ~- ---- -··········~ The College Author April 1969-April 1975 The Coliege completed its sixth year of publication in April, an event which was not, we regret, properly noted at the time. In belated celebration, then, and in recognition of the place which the magazine has come to occupy in the life of the College, we thought an index of authors might be appropriate and useful. And it is to those people that we owe whatever success the magazine has enjoyed. Author Title Allanbrook, Douglas The Spanish Civil War 11uee Piano Duets Dance, Gesture, and The Marriage of Figaro Hell: Paolo and Francesca The Number of My Loves Two Sorts of Poetic Revision The College and the Apr 72 Jan 73 Underprivileged Reasonable Politics and Technology Title Klein, Jacob AUTHOR'S INDEX The Problem of Freedom A Giving of Accounts (with Leo Strauss) The Myth of Virgil's Aeneid On Precision Discussion As a Means of Teaching and Learning Speech, Its Strengths and Weaknesses Memorial to Leo Strauss Plato's Phaedo Mathematics as a Liberal Art Prayers The Odyssey of the "Cresta" An Address for 111e Rededication of the Library Biological Explanation 111e Ontological Argument Old Wars; Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1972 "How Is The Seminar?" Two Writings in the Sand; Santa Fe Baccalaureate Kutler, SamuelS. '54 ___.-Littleton, MichaelS. Apr 69 Allanbrook, Wye Jamison Bart, Robert S. Bell, Charles G. Berns, Laurence Issue Apr Jul Jul Jul Sep Jan Jan Jan 74 71 70 73 70 74 74 74 Brann, Eva T.H. Memorial to Leo Strauss High School Workshop Memorial to Leo Strauss A Reading of the Gettysburg Address The Venetian Phaedrus The Poet of the Odyssey Apr 69 Jul 72 Apr 74 Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1974 Blanton, Ted A. '75 Mackey, Kimo '77 McGrath, Hugh P. Neidorf, Robert A. Ossorgin, Michael Address, 1974 Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Scofield, Richard Simpson, Thomas K. '50 Jul 74 Slakey, Thomas Smith, Joseph Winfree The Perfections of Jane Austen Brown, Ford K. ··-.,Buchanan, Scott Commencement Address, Annapolis, I 973 The New Program at St. John's College _.-Comber, Geoffrey Darkey, Willi.'lm A. '42 Dawson, Grace Logerfo '65 Conversations with Graduate Institute Alumni In Memory of Mark Van Doren Franz Plunder A St. Johnnie on the Job Market Diamond, Martin Ginsburg, David Goldwin, Robert A. '50 On The Study of Politics in a Liberal Education Ideas and Action: Santa Fe Commencement Address The First Annual Provocation Address St. John's College Asks John Locke Some Questions Ham, Michael W. '61 Black Mountain; a book review Jacobsen, Bryce '42 "When Is St. John's Going To Resume Athletics?" Kass, Amy Apfel Apr 75 Spaeth, Robert L. Jul 73 Oet. 72 Apr 73 Apr 73 Jul 74 Apr 73 Sparrow, Edward G. Strauss, Leo Van Doren, Mark \Veigle, Richard D. Jul 74 69 Apr 71 Apr 73 Williamson, Ray & Abigail Wilson, Curtis A. TI1e Liberal Arts Movement: from Ideas to Practice Kieffer, John S. A World I Never Made lola Scofield, A Memorial 20 Apr 70 Oet 73 Apr 69 Jul 72 Bach's Rhetoric The Habit of Literature Faraday's Thought on Electromagnetism Personal Freedom The Teaching of Theology to Undergraduates Commencement Address, Annapolis, 1970 Aristotle's EtJ1ics Memorial to Leo Strauss ---An Interview with Robert Bart An Interview with Alvin Fross and Peter Weiss Logic and Reason Noun and Verb :\ giving of Accounts (with Jacob Klein) Dec 71 Jui Issue Zelenka, Robert S. Zuckerman, Elliott What is a Liberal Education? How to Praise a World That May Not Last The Liberal Arts College: Anachronism or Paradigm? The Report of the President The Report of the President The Report of the President The Report of the President The Report of the President The Report of the President Plastering Day Reflections on the Idea of Science The Ruin Hommage Dietrich Buxtehude The Magic Fire and The Magic Flute What Is TI1e Question? a Dee 69 Apr 70 Dee 70 Oet 71 Dee 71 Jul Jan Jan Jul Jul Apr 73 74 75 69 70 75 Dee 69 Apr 70 Apr 72 Jul 72 Apr 69 Jul 74 Jan 75 Dee 69 Jul 70 Sep 70 Jul 69 Jul Jan Jan Apr 70 73 74 73 Jul 73 Apr 71 Jul 71 Apr 70 Jan 74 Dee 71 Sep Sep Sep Oet Oet Oet Oct Jul 69 69 70 71 72 73 74 74 Dec 70 Jan 75 Jan 75 Dee 69 Apr 73 �July, 1975 COMMENCEMENTS Margaret Mary Sheehan, Richard Martin Skaug, Elizabeth Greer Strider, Jeffrey Elvin Teague, David Bruce Wallace, Dennis Yaro. SANTA FE AWARDS AND PRIZES During the commencement ceremonies in Santa Fe, certain annual Santa Fe graduates, from the right: Boyd Cooke Pratt, Jonathan Morgan Teague, Alice Gibbs Ericcson, George Kevin Johnson, Russell \Vayne Mayfield. SANTA FE COMMENCEMENT Robert A. Neidorf, dean of St. John's in Santa Fe, delivered the address to the graduating seniors at the eighth commencement on the New Mexico campus on Sunday, May 18th. Twentythree seniors received the Bachelor of Arts degree during the commencement ceremonies. Summa Cum Laude-Boyd Cooke Pratt. Magna Cum Laude-Jonathan Morgan Teague. Cum Laude-Alice Gibbs Ericcson, George Kevin Johnson, Russell Wayne Mayfield, Thomas J. Myers. Rite-Ellen Gates Anderson, Sandra Mason Bell, Kathryn Marie Brewer, Christopher Hudson Chase, Daniel Patterson Dabney, Mark Paul Habrel, Sheldon Cary Heitner, Leslie Marie Johnson, Nancy Susan Miller, Giselle Suzanne Minoli, Anne Charlotte Ray, prizes and awards were presented: A silver medal for the senior with the highest standing, from the Board of Visitors and Governors-Boyd Clarke Pratt. The Duane L. Peterson Scholarship, for a junior-Matthew Gale Krane. The Bromwell Ault Memorial Scholarships-Class of 1976: Christian Burks, Mark Laird Copper, Michael Alan Gross, Glenda Kay Holladay, Matthew Gale Krane, Barbara Lynn Skaug; Class of I 977: Debra Deanne Carroll, Jane Frances Chambers, Michael Rutherford Jones. The St. John's College Community Scholarships-Class of 1976: Paula Jean Fulks, Denise Claire Waxman; Class of 1977: Kim Brian Childs, Walter Thomas Featherly; Class of 1978: Glen Bostwick Meredith, Thomas William Wood. The Alfred J. Verratti Science Scholarship-Walter Thomas Featherly. Acknowledgements of Excellence were awarded as follows for the purpose indicated: Senior Essay (Margo Dawn Gerber Memorial Prize) -Alice Gibbs Ericcson and Boyd Cooke Pratt; Junior Annual Essay-Matthew Gale Krane; Sophomore Annual EssayShaun Kelly Abshere and Glen Bostwick Meredith; Poem Cycle (The Henry Austin Poetry Prize)-Teresa Jane Engler; Poem-Russell Wayne Mayfield; Musical Composition-Gregory John GiHette; Essay Relating to Laboratory Program-Dean Harvey McFalls. ANNAPOLIS COMMENCEMENT The Annapolis commencement was held inside for the second time in three years, as lowering clouds and rain cov~ cred the Annapolis area. A crowd of parents, students, alumni, and friends, overflowing the Francis Scott Key Auditorium onto the stage, saw a record sixty-five members of the Class of 1975, plus three from earlier classes, receive their diplomas on May 25th. Robert S. Bart, an Annapolis tutor, had been selected by the students to deliver the traditional address (see elsewhere in this issue). Magna Cum Laude-George Malcohn Davidson Anastaplo, Michael Gerard Dink, Peter Thornton Fox, Christopher Hannes Hoving, Nancy Marie Polk, Edward Cary Stickney. Cum Laude-Carol Josephine Alberto, David James Ashmore, Ted Arland Blanton, Madeleine Sophie Clarke, Daniel Timothy Feinstein, James Nelson Jarvis, Mary Sarah Rogers, Lawrence Alan Sonnenfeldt, Kevin Stacey, Elizabeth Fort Tomlinson, Shiu-Chun Wong, Rebecca Anne Zlatoff. Rite-Thomas Marvin Ash, III, G. Kay Bishop, Laura Tremaine Bridgman, Jonathon Lee Church, Rachel Channon Crain, Derek Evan Cross, 21 �The College Upper and lower right: Edward Cary Stickney and Laura Tremaine Bridgman tied for the Susan Irene Roberts prize for best senior essay. Ivlr. Stickney also received the Tydings prize for excellence in speaking. Below: Madeleine Sophie Clarke and Michael Gerard Dink were the first recipients of the new Alumni Associa- tion awards for contributions to the athletic program. Association President Bernard F. Gessner '27 makes the presentation. Above: "Carol Josephine Alberto of Martinsville, Virginia, Cum Laude," first to receive her diploma from President Weigle. Jane EJlen D' Agnese, Sandra Davenport, Matthew Octave DeBacker, SaJlie Ann Dobreer, Bairj Donabedian, Gershon Ekman, George Frederick Ellis, Sara Coulson Ellis, Donald Stephen Feldman, Paul Seth Fishleder, Mary Carla Garrettson, Seth Lawrence Ginsburg, Caren Leigh Greisman, Mark Stephen Gruber, Gene Heller, Michael Edward Hendry, Charles Edward Niblett Hoffacker, Arthur Clyde Horvath, Eugene Geno Iorgov, Jr. Dennis James Johnson, Patricia Anne Joyce, Eugene Thomas Kelly, Christopher Austin King, Cynthia Ann Kirschner, Peter Lionel Kniaz, John MaxweJI Larson, Joyce Susan Mendlin, Lisa Chedzoy Morrison, Dale Burton Mortimer, Christine R. Paulson, Elizabeth Ann Peterson, Harriet Ann Quesenberry, John Elwood Rogers, Tina Joanne Saddy, Marguerite Judson Smith, Elizabeth Jean Tracy, Annette Therese Tullier, Robert G. Tzudiker, 22 K. C. Victor, Stephen Charles Weber. As of the Class of 1974: Geoffrey Eareckson Cockey and JoAnn Marie Risburg Mollin. As of the Class of 1972: Theophus Harold Smith. ANNAPOLIS AWARDS AND PRIZES Certain awards and prizes were presented during the Annapolis commencement ceremonies, among them a new athletic award sponsored by the Alumni Association: A silver medal for the senior who has the highest standing, from the Board of Visitors and GovernorsMichael Gerard Dink. The Duane L. Peterson Scholarship, for a juniorJoseph Michael DiGeorge. The C. Markland KeUy, Jr., Memorial Scholarships-junior David Evan Clement, sophomore Vicki Lonise Cass, freshman Terry Clifton Schuld. The Joan Yvonne Ronay Memorial Scholarship, to a juniorJulia Perkins. The Senator Millard E. Tydings award for excellence in speaking-Edward Cary Stickney. Best senior essay-Laura Tremaine Bridgman and Edward Cary Stickney. Best junior essay-Honorable mention: Susan Elizabeth Kirk and Katherine Myfanwy Owen. Best sophomore essay -Stephanie Meline Eiger. Best freshman essay-Caroline Elizabeth Allen. Freshman-Sophomore mathematics prize-Eric Huang Wefald. Best Greek translation-Joseph Orville Olson. Best translation of a French poem-Barbara Lois Schmittel. Best original English poem-Catherine Elizabeth Allen. To the senior man and woman, who by their participation, leadership, and sportsmanship, have contributed most to the College's athletic program, special maroon blazers, offered by the Alumni Association-Madeleine Sophie Clarke and Michael Gerard Dink. �July, 1975 CAMPUS-ALUMNI NEWS music and cross-cultural comparisons Yale/St. John's College Consort-Left to right: Mary Posses, David Irwin, Manuel Maramba, Richard Weinhaus, David Gordon. YALE-ST. JOHN'S Musrc With the end of the academic year the first year of the musicians-in-residence program on the Santa Fe campus comes to an end. A cooperative effort involving the Yale University School of Music and St. John's College brought five May 1974 Master's degree graduates of the Yale School of Music to spend the year in Santa Fe, teaching freshmen music tutorials and attending twice weekly seminars in addition to performing frequently as the Yale/ St. John's College Consort. The musicians were Mary Posses, David Irwin, David Gordon, Richard Weinhaus and Manuel P. Maramba. Mary Posses, flute and piccolo, is a native New Yorker who attended Wellesley College and received a B.A. degree from Yale magna cum laude before doing graduate work. David Irwin, clarinet, is from Atlanta, Georgia and received his Bachelor of Music degree from Florida State University. David Gordon, bassoon, is a New Mexican. He was born in Espanola, graduated from Espanola High School and received a Bachelor of Music Education degree from the University of New Mexico. Richard Weinhaus, double bass and guitar, is an Amherst College graduate who has done other graduate work at Wesleyan University in Afro-American 1l1is spring the group traveled to the of church music in the Middle Ages. Manuel P. Maramba, piano and harpsichord, is a native of the Philippine Islands. He received his Bachelor of Music degree from the University of St. Tomas in Manila and a Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy from San Beda College there. He also holds a Bachelor of Mnsic degree in composition from Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore, Maryland, and is now working toward a D.M.A. from Yale. The group presented the third of the regular College concert series concerts in December, and in April joined oboist Henry Schuman, violist John Graham, violinist Leonard Felberg, and cellist Joanna de Keyser for a formal Friday night concert at the College. They presented two concerts at the University of New Mexico, one at New Mexico Highlands University, one at the College of Santa Fe, and one at the Santa Fe Preparatory School in addition to a number of concerts at churches in northern New Mexico communities. The church performances were usually Sunday afternoon presentations featuring classical music as well as early Spanish music performed on the harpsichord and guitar. Last fall three of the musicians, billed as the Yale Woodwind Trio, played a half dozen special concerts for the Los Alamos elementary schools. Each performance was attended by approximately 150 children and consisted of several pieces by Bach, a discussion of the instruments, and a question and Navajo reservation in northwestern New Mexico to play concerts at the Ramah Indian School. Manual P. Maramba presented a special program of Spanish music at the International Folk Art Museum sponsored by El Instituto Hispanieo de Santa Fe. In addition, the group has presented more than a dozen informal Sunday and Wednesday night programs in the Great Hall primarily for the enjoyment of the College community. SANTA FE SENIORS RArsEMONEY A cheek for $3,465.20 was presented to St. John's College President Richard D. Weigle during commencement exercises in Santa Fe on Sunday, May 18. Senior Sheldon Heitner in making the presentation explained that the amount represented proceeds from the Gregory Peek personal appearance and evening of films sponsored by the Senior Class last month. The class voted the money to be added to the fund for building a gymnasium which was started by a gift from last year's graduating class. On behalf of the Class of 1975, Heitner thanked the people of Santa Fe for their generous support of the benefit, and to Gregory Peck for graciously volunteering to come to Santa Fe to appear with two of his best known films, To Kill A Mockingbird and The Gunfighter. answer session. AWARD OF MERIT In March they presented a concert at St. Francis Auditorium in the Fine Arts Museum in downtown Santa Fe for the joint benefit of the Museum of New Mexico Foundation and St. John's. Once again the call goes forth for nominations for the annual Alumni Award of Merit. Association President B. F. Gessner invites all alumni to let him know of potential candidates, and requests that sufficient information 23 �The College STUDENT CoUNSELING AT HOMECOMING ALUMNI CoMMUNICATioNs Two years ago Peter Fairbanks, then an about-to-be-graduated senior, suggested a very simple way to help alumni keep in touch with the College-and thus the Communicard was born. Instant success, to say the least, and certainly worth doing again. Thus the card you will find enclosed in this issue; please use it to keep your Alumni Office informed of your doings. about each candidate be included to permit thorough evaluation. The records of the College do not always contain complete and up-to-date information on all alumni. The Award, first presented in 1950, is made to an alumnus (alumna) "for distinguished and meritorious service to the United States or to his (her) native state or to St. John's College, or for outstanding achievement within his (her) chosen field." There may be as many as three awards made each year, although the Alumni Association is not required to grant any awards. Address confidential letters of nomination to B. F. Gessner, c/o Alumni Office, St. John's College, Annapolis, Md. 21404. The envelope should be marked "Award"~ and all nominations should reach the Alumni Office no Ia ter than September 1. CLASS NOTES fessor of law at the University of Toledo {Ohio) Co11ege of Law since 1962. He joined the faculty there in 1956 after ten years with the law firm of Sullivan & Cromwell of New York City. After graduation magna cum laude et cum honore {in economics), Elwood earned a J.D. degree from the Duke University School of Law, and has done post-graduate work at the University of Denver, Harvard University, and New York University; from the latter he received the LL.M. degree in 1967. He has been admitted to the bar in Maryland, New York, and Ohio, and to practice before the Supreme Court of the United States. He is also active in a number of professional associations. 1928 Another well-deserved honor for historian Louis L. Snyder: the New Jersey Institute of Technology presented him with a special citation at its ·Eighth Annual New Jersey Writers Conference on April 26th. Professor Snyder, who teaches history at The City College of the City University of New Y ark, is Editor-in-Chief of the Encyclopedia of the Third Reich (McGraw-Hill) and a prolific author and book reviewer. 1929 Sanford Stephen Neal, Jr., was ordained a deacon on Sunday, June 15th, at The Cathedral Church of St. Luke in Orlando, Fla., by The Right Reverend William H. Fowell, Bishop of Central Florida. 1934 The Rev. Robert L. Jones has retired from active ministry and is living in Annapolis. 1935 Our deepest and most embarrassed apologies to John C. Donohue, who, on May lOth, during the half-time of the Hopkins-Navy game, was inducted into the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame: there is no Maryland Lacrosse Hall of Fame; we were incorrect in the item in the April issue. 1938 Fran cis Elwood Barkman has been a pro- 24 1945 Robert L. Campbell's book about ghetto education, The Chasm, was nominated for a National Book Award this year. Another author in the class is Wi1Iiam Goldsmith, a professor of history at Brandeis University. Bill has written a three-volume, 2,340 page work entitled The Growth of Presidential Power: A Documented History (Chelsea HouseR. R. Bowker, 1975). In his foreword, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., writes: "In the earlier period Professor Goldsmith's book would have heen invaluable. After Vietnam and Watergate it is indispensable." 1946 More evidence that St. John's alumni can indeed write: John M. Cuddihy's book The Ordeal ot Civility: Marx, Levi-Strauss, and the Jewisll struggle with Modemity. (Basic Books, The Director of Placement for the Annapolis campus, Brenda Robertson, has identified the general interest areas of the class of 1976. Some 63% are now thinking of graduate school of one sort or another. In view of this, the Alumni Counseling session at Homecoming will concentrate on graduate schools. The Homecoming Committee would like alumni volunteers to help with the counseling, and asks that those interested get in touch with the Alumni Office in Annapolis. The areas in which help is needed are: alternate health care, anthropology, art history, classics, criminal justice, economics, education, engineering, history of science, journalism, languages, law, library science, rna thematics, medicine, music, philosophy. 1975) was reviewed, for instance, in the April 7th issue of Time. 1947 After fifteen years as an associate on the staff of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, Stephen Benedict last January joined the Council on Foundations, to direct a new advisory project on cultural programming, "Project in the Arts." Steve has long been interested and involved in the arts, and has participated actively in a number of local and national arts organizations. The "Project in the Arts" will, among other functions, advise philanthropic foundations on opportunities for support of cultural activities. 1949 Allan P. Hoffman is a candidate for Trustee of the Village of Lawrence {N.Y.). AI is a governor of the Lawrence Association, vice president and national marketing manager of l-Iandy.Andy Specialty Co., Inc., of New York City, and bas been active in a variety of civic and philanthropic organizations. 1960 Last summer John E. Gorecki received the Ph.D. degree in English from the University of South Carolina. His dissertation was on Milton's images of Satan in Paradise Lost and their traditional implications. He would like to hear from his classmates and friends, and may be addressed at the Department of English, University of South Carolina at A1lendale, Allendale, South Carolina 29819. He is teaching there and working on publications on Milton and other writers. �July, 1975 1962 Neil C. Potash left us a note the other day, saying that he now works in the Hall of Records on the Annapolis campus, and is engaged to be married in December. 1966 nation. Ed is studying at the Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies in Toronto. 1971 Cliff Martin has passed his candidacy examinations for the Ph.D. degree at Pennsylvania State University. David E. Long has announced his candidacy 1972 for mayor of Boston from the Massachusetts Libertarian Party. David's campaign platform features wide repeal of almost all laws regulating transportation, gambling, alcoholic beverages, drugs, sex among consenting adults, and many other activities. Ray Boedecker has received an M.A. degree in education from Catholic University, and is teaching at Georgetown {D.C.) Day School. Ray and Jane (Silberman) are living in McLean, Va. Jean Carr writes from New Orleans that she received her M.A. degree in biology from 1967 Mount Holyoke College last November. Since Clark Lobenstine has received a Patterson that time she has completed course work Memorial Fellowship from the Louisville (Ky.) toward a doctorate in epidemiology at Tulane Presbyterian Seminary. The fellowship provides School of Public Health in New Orleans. She $2,000 for graduate study in any institution of has taken a job as field epidemiologist for a his choice. Clark will delay his graduate work project studying occupational pulmonary disfor two or three years in order to take advaneases, and hopes the work will provide research tage of his earlier appointment as director of material for her dissertation. Although her the United Crescent Hill Ministries in Louisproject will require travel to factories all over ville (see The College, April 1975). the country, Jean is obviously very happy to have New Orleans as a home base. 1968 Karen Shavin stopped to tell us that she and Word from the Aiburys in Australia: Randy Thomas Crabtree were married last October 6th tells us that Becky is a research assistant at the in Greater Baltimore Medical Center, where University of Sydney, in the Government De- she was being treated for phlebitis. They plan partment, on a nuclear weapons strategy project. to move to Salt Lake City (with the dogs) at an early date. They will study art/architecture 1969 there. Miss Nancy Elizabeth Leighton of Baltimore Tradition was broken in a most delightful and Harold 0. Koenig were married on Satur· way with the appoinbnent in April of Joanne day, May 24th, at the Cathedral Church of , (Aitken) Rowbottom as Director of Admissions the Incarnation in Baltimore. Richard D. on the Annapolis campus. Ferrier was best man, and Henry C. Constantine '70 was one of the ushers. 1973 Mark Mandel writes that he is progressing Burchenal Ault, vice president on the Santa to ....rard his Ph.D. degree in linguistics at the Fe campus, sends this letter: University of Ca1ifornia at Berkeley. Mark's "Dear l'vir. Ault: work on a project in theoretical linguistics will "Thank yon very much for P, Neruda's be helped, starting this summer, by the NSF Nobel lecture, especially since the role of the fellowship he has just been awarded. poet and his 'weltanschauung' are among the ideas and questions that intrude upon me at 1970 this time. Miss Charlotte Fletcher tells us that Ed "11IC next installment [of a gift to Santa Macierowski received an M.A. degree two or Fe] might not make it for a while yet, but it three years ago, and is now finishing up the will he forthcoming, Every little bit helps, I second half of his licentiate thesis on St. hope. The coilege was a major experience in Thomas' critique of Ibn Sina's theory of ema· my life; at times I believe it has made me who I am now, 111erefore I naturally attempt to support it whenever and however I may, "I am not in the Army but rather am a Civil Service Temporary Hire employee of the Department of Defense. I work as an Engineering Technician (Procurement) wherein my duties are to review from the technical standpoint requests for items and services within the U.S. Army {Europe). My appointment expires in July, and I am trying to decide whether to return to school, travel, or work. I have applied for a job with DOD in Saudi Arabia, ,but don't know what my chances are. My free time is spent with reading and sport. Respectfully yours, M. Aaron" David K. A11ison, a summa cum laude graduate in Annapolis two years ago, has received a Graduate Fellowship grant from the National Science Foundation. David plans to continue studies in the history of science at Princeton University. Robin Chalek writc.'i that she is married to George Jmmes, and is living in New York City. She is a public relations writer and her husband is a free-lance illustrator. They both study Ajapa Yoga, and within the year hope to be off to their home on the island of Kythera in Greece. James Tourtelott has been a graduate student in English at SUNY Stony Brook for the past year and a half. He was due to receive his M.A. degree in June, and has been accepted for doctoral studies at Stony Brook beginning in September. Jim will also be a teaching assistant in the department of English. 1974 Tom Byrnes, class secretary for the Santa Fe portion of this class, sends along the following: Ginger Boyle, occupied with construction \\'ark since graduation, is off for Europe; Carl and Karen (Cook) Huffman are in Boulder, where he is doing graduate work in the classics at the University of Colorado; Tom Jeliffe and Celia Yerger are working for the State of Mississippi. Maria Kayanan, an Annapolis graduate, has completed a seventeen-week course at the Institute for Paralegal Training in Philadelphia, and is now qualified to be a lawyer's assistant. 1975 In Memoriam 1907-Francis B. Gwynn, Brandywine, Md., April25, 1975. 1918-Russell E. Smith, Severna Park, Md., April 26, 1975. 1912-Nicholas G. Pulos, Bethesda, Md., April2, 1975. 1919-Charles C. Holmes, Baltimore, Md., April 17, 1975. 1916-Dunleavy C. Downs, Washington, D.C., April27, 1975. 1928-Herman D. Parsons, Ocean City, Md., December 3, 1974. George M. D. Anastaplo was awarded a fellowship by the National Science Foundation for three years' graduate study in the histozy of science. His older sister Helen, now Sharbach, graduated from St. John's in 1971, and his younger sister Sara has completed her sophomore year. Matthew DeBacker is the recipient of a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship, and with his wife Susan (Fitzpatrick) '76 he will leave in August for a year of independent study abroad. His purpose in investigating farming in France, Belgium, Germany, and England is to determine whether a career in agriculture can leave time for a satisfying personal life. 25 �~~~~>I<+~>f<>f<#>f<#~~~>f<>!<#>I<~:t ~ ~ t ~ of< t :j: t >7< of< of< I t ~ t TENTATIVE SCHEDULE Homecoming 1975 Friday, October 24: Evening Lecture by T. K. Simpson '50, tutor at St. John's, Santa Fe, followed by informal get-together for alumni and guests. if ~, :J: :t Saturday, October 25: 9 a.m.-3 p.m. Registration, Francis Scott Key Memorial Hall. 10 a.m.-Noon Alumni Seminars (readings and rooms to be announced). 10 a.m.-Noon Special Seminar, Class of 1950 only, Library. 11: 30 a.m. Luncheon in Dining Hall with students. 1:15 p.m. Alumni Association Annual Meeting; presentation of Awards of Merit, election of directors. 2:45p.m. Student Career/Job Discussions. 4 p.m. Annual Alumni-Student Soccer Classic on Back Campus. 6:30-7:30 p.m. Alumni Homecoming Reception for Alumni and Guests, Annapolis Hilton Hotel. 7:30p.m. Homecoming Banquet, Annapolis Hilton Hotel. :J: :t :J: :j: t ~ t ~ The final schedule, together with a reservation form, will be sent later. :t~~>f<#~>f<>f<#~~~~>!<##>f<>I<+>I<>I<>I<~>f<>f<>f<:t The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 25 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of College Relations Title A name given to the resource The College, July 1975 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-07 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zuckerman, Elliott Description An account of the resource Volume XXVII, Number 2 of The College. Published in July 1975. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_27_No_2_1975 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/e76aaf9f6bee32b1ad693663b24723ca.pdf 25c9d7d5bd823a05c67db14a47543c8e PDF Text Text 'I jr lll \ " ! ! HI I ( d 1\l\(; \\Ill I \\1' "' II ( I l I �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVII October, 1975 Number 3 ON THE COVER: The King George Street side of the campus in Annapolis, showing the gate by Chase-Stone House (the old SAEPhi Sig House of the '30's, and even earlier the President's House). Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Farran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Elliott Zuckerman. THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Vice President. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE OCTOBER ISSUE The Report of the President. Alumni Class Notes Picture credits: Cover, pages 2 and 7: Dick Linfield; page 4, Betty Lilienthal; page 9, Christopher Sparrow. 1 15 �Report of the President 1974-1975 This, my twenty-sixth annual report to the Board of Visitors and Governors, is submitted at a time when the future of independent colleges and universities hangs in the balance. The smaller institutions appear to be in the more precarious situation as inflation forces salaries and other expenditures up, and rising fees cause a larger proportion of students to choose public institutions. Prescott College, the only southwestern college without ties to church or state, closed its doors last December. New College, in Florida, was absorbed by the State and opens this fall as a branch of the University of South Florida. Shimer College, in Illinois, has continued to function despite a 1973 board decision to close. The new president has refinanced the college's debts, and the future depends upon his success in finding necessary funds. Against this background of financial stringency and foreclosure, St. John's College was remarkably blessed to complete the past year without a deficit on either campus. This minor miracle resulted in part from budgetary savings and increased endowment income. The greatest single factor, however, was the extraordinary generosity of the individual members of the Board, both past and present, the development grant to the Santa Fe campus from the National Endowment for the Humanities, and the increased annual giving by alumni, parents, and friends. All of us at the College recognize the considerable debt of gratitude which we owe to each donor for helping to make possible another year of education for St. John's students and tutors. The Annapolis Dean's Report In the area of instruction, Dean Curtis Wilson reported an excellent year. Because of time pressures, he regretted that relatively little had been accomplished in pursuing Howard Fisher's report of last year on the laboratory program. A small faculty committee did decide to reduce and lighten the freshman work in measurement. It seems desirable, too, to incorporate some biological studies into the freshman laboratory sequence. 'T'his would give students some background for their encounter with the great philosopher of biology, Aristotle. There was much discussion, still inconclusive, of the arrangement of materials for the sophomore biology laboratory. For the coming year, the Instruction Committee decided to return to the status quo ante, a topical arrangement in which readings are correlated first with the dissection of a vertebrate animal and later with observations on embryological development and experiments in genetics, the first topics of the year being phylogeny and evolution. A faculty study group has been set up under the chairmanship of Robert Spaeth for the coming fall semester to explore perception, especially visual perception. The speI �The College cific aim will be to produce a written document describing a series of experiments and listing appropriate readings to accompany the experiments. These may be incorporated into the laboratory program as its subsequent revision is decided upon. Study of such "higher functions" of organisms as perception seems a desirable accompaniment to the major concern with epistemological questions prompted by the seminar readings. . . . Another part of the program needmg Improvement IS the first semester of the senior laboratory. The manual appears somewhat too complicated. The primary aim of the laboratorv seems right-to seek a certain understanding of Maxwell's' equations, of how they emerged and of how they lead to a wave equation. A paper assignment ~um­ marizing the student's learning in the field has conflicted with preceptorial papers, so a different approach with a different manual appears called for. . The new Greek text, developed by Alfred Molhn and Robert B. Williamson on a grant from the National En· dowment for the Humanities, has now had a two-year trial. The sections dealing with grammatical theory have prompted excellent tutorial discussions on the nature of language. Critics claim that there IS no substitute for rote learning of paradigms and that the text errs m startmg with a study of language in general and in moving then to the particular language, Greek. The Instruction Committee, while recommending certain revisions to the authors, concluded that the text should be used for two more years. A proposal for an "enabling examination" on Greek morphology was shelved in favor of a set of standard quizzes on Greek forms to be used by freshman language tutors. The aim here will be to make clear to tutors and students alike that the College expects a certain minimum level of mastery of forms. The Dean notes that a manual of logic written by David Starr, summarizing the formalities of Aristotle's syllogistic logic, was used with success in the sophomore language tutorial. For the junior language tutorial, a new French grammar was decided upon. The Instruction Committee also agreed to follow the lead of Santa Fe in using selections from de Tocqueville's Democratic en Amerique as the basis for the French reading knowledge examinations. The Student Committee on Instruction met with the Annapolis Instruction Committee twice during the year to transmit concerns, questions, and proposals of students. These sessions were found to be instructive and helpful, so four meetings are planned for the coming year. Among the matters discussed were the proposal for a Greek grammar examination, Hegel seminar assignments, and the "junior conference." The conference was instituted successfully in lieu of don rags for juniors. Instead of listening to successive reports on his work by his tutors, the student is invited to speak first and give an evaluation of his work. conference approach that it has suggested instituting it in the sophomore year as well. The Instruction Committee felt that such extension was premature. For the first time, an enlarged winter freshman class of 29 instead of 20 was admitted in January. This meant two seminars and two laboratory sections instead of one. The Dean's strong impression is that the difference in numbers made for a significant difference in quality and in esprit. The need for more teaching stations during the second semester may have a beneficial educational effect in that four or five tutors might have released time to participate in a faculty study group during the first semester. One criticism leveled at the winter-summer freshman program has been the horrendous pace of the assigned work, thirtyone weeks of work compressed into twenty-five weeks. Mr. Mollin undertook a review of all assignments and recommended certain modifications. These were adopted by the Instruction Committee. They should have a salutary effect upon the class entering in January 1976. The ensuing conversation uses the second person form of The Santa Fe Dean's Report address instead of the impersonal third person. The Student Instruction Committee is so well impressed with the completed was one of conservative building toward an 2 Dean Robert Neidorf states that the academic year just �October, 197 5 experienced faculty nucleus and toward a less transient student body than in earlier years. He cited the development grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities as being of inestimable value in the strengthening of the College. The greatest impact of the grant on the life of the college has been the power it has provided the Dean to place certain tutors on reduced teaching loads, something which accrediting agencies and the Faculty itself have long felt to be highly desirable. During the past year, three more senior tutors were on partial teaching assignments so that they could devote energies to faculty recruitment and to the supervision of various parts of the instructional program as directors of tutors' groups. At the same time, thanks to the grant, five new tutors were able to spend the initial year of their appointments teaching only two classes and auditing a third. The two new tutors appointed for 1975-76 will enjoy the same benefit. The other main enterprise flowing from the development grant is the Committee on the Liberal Arts, referred to as a task force in my report of last year. The chairman of the Committee is William A. Darkey, former Dean on the western campus, who has had well over thirty years of experience at St. John's College, both as student and as tutor. He was joined by David C. Jones and Thomas K. Simpson in the initial exploratory year. The Committee met weekly, wrote several informal papers, and presented one extended discussion of the liberal arts to the commun;ty as a whole on a Friday evening. For the coming year, Dean R. Haggard and John S. Steadman will be added to the Committee. A much more highly structured program is envisioned, with several presentations to the Faculty and to the students on Wednesday afternoons and Friday evenings. There are tentative plans for organizing a publishable document to cap the two-year labors of this Committee. A major innovation this past year was the presence on campus of five recent graduates of the Yale University School of Music as Musicians-in-Residence. They were David Gordon (bassoon), David Irwin (clarinet), Manuel Maramba (keyboard), Mary Posses (flute), and Richard Weinhaus (bass and guitar). The group conducted the fresl:m1an music program, assisted in the sophomore music tutorials for the first semester, gave both formal and informal concerts, held open rehearsals, coached musical groups, and attended and participated regularly in undergraduate seminars. The five musicians also gave many con~ certs in schools and churches throughout northern New Mexico, representing both St. John's and Yale with distinction. The Dean states that this experimental program was widely regarded as successful and desirable. The presence of three of the participants as dormitory residents contributed to the stability and enrichment of campus life. For the coming year, Manuel Maramba has been reappointed in a somewhat more modest program. He will be joined by Scott Hankins, a violinist, and Frank Lynch, an oboist, both of whom received their master's degrees in music from Yale this past June. The Dean reports that short-term attrition among the twenty freshmen entering the College in January remains somewhat higher than among freshmen generally. He questions the morale of the group, particularly during the summer when they are first isolated on an empty campus, and then surrounded and perhaps overwhelmed by the older students of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education. The Dean recommends ways to alleviate this situation another summer, for he finds the January freshman program valuable for three reasons: It enables many students to begin their studies at St. John's without waiting for a year or a half-year; it compensates for students who leave during the semester, thus evening out the total college population throughout the year; and finally, it tends to attract students who have attended college elsewhere, a group which experiences less long-term attrition than St. John's students as a whole. As to the academic order, the Dean wrote that he "must report centrally, and with pleasure, that learning is going on." Apart from regular classroom exercises, the practice of holding all-college seminars on Friday evenings was continued with considerable success. Books read for the two seminars last year were Plato's Laches and Pica della Mirandola's Oration on the Dignity of Man. Occasional faculty seminars were held on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoons, classes having been cancelled for the day. Tutors chose from optional seminars on such works as T. S. Eliot's Little Gidding, Faulkner's The Bear, Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Kant's Perpetual Peace, and Arnheim on Picasso's Guernica. The joint Instruction Committee meetings were held on the Santa Fe campus in March to consider such matters as the Graduate Institute, the summer alumni program, senior essays, don rags, and economy measures. The Committee approved for submission to the Faculty a proposal for altering the senior year curriculum on the Santa Fe campus. John Spangler Kieffer St. John's College suffered grievous loss this spring in the death of John Spangler Kieffer, teacher extraordinary, careful scholar, respected colleague, and warm friend. Mr. Kieffer would have retired in June, having attained his seventieth year, forty-six of which he had devoted to this College-as tutor, assistant dean, dean, president, and member of the Board of Visitors and Governors. At the time of his death, he had taken over from Stringfellow Barr the project of writing the story of the transition to the present curriculum in 1937. He was eminently suited for such a project, for he had been a major factor in effecting the change. A crowded memorial service a•t St. Anne's Church and one on the Santa Fe campus bore witness to the place of honor and love which he held in the St.John's community. 3 �The College The Tutors I take pleasure in recording tenure appointments granted to Harvey Flaumenhaft and Brother S. Robert, F.S.C., of the Annapolis Faculty. That campus will welcome back from sabbatical leave Geoffrey Comber, George Doskow, Howard J. Fisher, and Benjamin C. Milner, Jr. It will miss the teaching of Thomas A. McDonald and Edward Sparrow, both on sabbaticals. Eva Brann will be on partial sabbatical. I am sorry to report that Deborah Traynor, who had been on leave-of-absence in Ireland, has submitted her resignation. This has been accepted with sincere regret, for she had proven herself a good St. John's tutor. Robert A. Goldwin, '50, continues on ]eave to serve as Special Assistant to President Ford in Washington. C. Reed Woodhouse will be on leave to study theology on a Luce fellowship. Two new appointments have been made for the coming year: Joseph Sachs, '68, who hold the M.A. degree in philosophy from Pennsylvania State College; and Michael Comenetz, who received the B.A. degree from the Johns Hopkins University and the M.S. and Ph.D. degrees in mathematics from Brandeis University. This coming year, for the first time, a tutor exchange will be undertaken as part of the program underwritten by the development grant of the National Endowment for the Humanities. Lynne M. Hamilton will spend the year at Annapolis; Robert S. Bart teaches on the Santa Fe campus during the first semester and Douglas and Wye Jamison Allan brook spend the second semester there. The Santa Fe Faculty will be greatly strengthened by the return of six tenured tutors, Samuel E. Brown, Elliott T. Skinner, and Ralph Swentzell from sabbatical leave and Charles G. Bell, Dean R. Haggard, and Michael Ossorgin from other leave. Two other Tutors resume full-time teaching, C. Donald Knight, who had study-leave during the first semester, and Lorna Green, who was away for the second to complete a dissertation. Three Tutors will not return this fall, Frank K. Flinn, who resigned in the middle of the year, Mary I. Robinson, whose appointment was completed, and Ida Doraiswamy, who resigned to undertake further graduate work at the University of Oklahoma. During the coming academic year, Stuart Boyd, Don B. 4 Cook, and E. Roy Davis, Jr., '62, have been granted sabbatical leave, while James R. Mensch, '66, has been given other leave for the first semester. The two new appointments went to Elizabeth S. Engel, a Pomona graduate who holds the M. Phil. and Ph.D. degrees in Philosophy from Yale University and who has taught at Shimer College and at the California State University at Humboldt; and John J. Verdi, who graduated with the B.S. degree from Fordham University and then earned the A.M. degree from the University of Southern California. The Associates During the year, the fifth quinquennial review of the Polity was accomplished. Commendation is due the Faculty Polity Review Committee, under the able chairmanship of Edward G. Sparrow, and the Board's Organization Committee, effectively headed by Charles A. Nelson, '45. The principal modification in the Polity, as recommended by the Faculty and approved by the Board at its April meeting, was the elimination of the office of Provost on the Annapolis campus and the creation of a vice-presidency in its place. This change establishes parallel administrative structures on the two campuses. On each campus the Dean is vested with responsibility for instruction and for the welfare of the students. He also serves as Acting President as necessary during the President's absence. The Vice-President is responsible for matters involving administration, finance, development, and public relations. The Treasurer of the College reports to him. To fill the newly created position at Annapolis, a search committee was constituted in accordance with the provisions of the Polity. After appropriate consultation, the choice fell upon William B. Dunham, who had been serving as Director of College Relations. Mr. Dunham's appointment was approved by the Board at its July meeting in Santa Fe. Mr. Dunham spent twenty years in the Foreign Service and then was Secretary and Vice-President of Carleton College before joining the St. John's Faculty as an Associate. I anticipate that he will function as ably in this new position as J. Burchenal Ault has on the Santa Fe campus. Change occurred in the Annapolis admissions office. On �October, 1975 August 31, 1974, Michael W. Ham, '61, resigned the directorship to accept a position with the American College Testing Service. For three years, he had served the College well, notably in revising the publications used for prospective students. To fill the vacancy, Joanne Rowbottom, '73, Assistant Director, was appointed Co-Director, along with Robert L. Spaeth of the Faculty. Excellent performance justified my recommendation, approved by the Board, that full responsibility for the directorship pass on July I, 1975, to Joanne Rowbottom, who resumed her maiden name of Joanne Aitken. Mary Jane Young, '73, was appointed Assistant Director of Admissions in June. Another Polity amendment separated the functions of financial aid and placement counselling. Brenda Robertson was named Director of Placement in August and worked closely with seniors seeking admission to graduate school or opportunities in the business world. At Santa Fe, both financial aid and placement counselling were the responsibility of Sue L. Boyter during the year, but she resigned this summer to further her education and her career. During the two years of her incumbency, she expanded the College's eligibility for federal scholarship subsidies and enhanced the efficiency and economy of the student aid program. Alberta Rivera has been appointed Director of Financial Aid. She formerly held the position of Assistant Director of Financial Aid at the University of Albuquerque. Sally Dunn, '71, will be the new Director of Placement. Ms. Dunn has an M.A. degree in philosophy from the University of Notre Dame and is now pursuing a Ph.D. in American studies at the University of New Mexico. She will serve as Head Resident as well. Alfreda Verratti Goodrich, '66, who has been both a sympathetic and able Assistant Dean and Head Resident for three years, relinquished both positions because of impending motherhood. She will teach part-time this year. The Students The recruitment and retention of students is a peren- nial problem. It is instructive, but perhaps somewhat misleading, to study the enrollments on the two campuses for the past five academic years, together with the projection for 1975-76: 1970-711971-721972-73 1973-74 1974-75 1975-76 ·--- Totals Totals 269 97 85 22 20 20 71 45 36 99 32 33 89 63 26 86 47 262 78 55 30 92 81 47 27 106 108 14 Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors 274 278 295 309 107 71 It does seem possible to conclude that the January fresh- man class has been helpful in replacing freshman dropouts and that the total enrollment has shown a steady increase at the same time that freshman enrollees have been reduced in number. The following chart gives fall and spring enrollment statistics for the year just ended. Readmissions and the January class more than compensated for the 28 students who withdrew at Annapolis during the year. In Santa Fe, there was a net loss of thirteen from the first to the second semester. Annapolis First Semester Men Women Total Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors Totals 63 44 107 51 41 45 52 42 32 ZOO Second Semester Men Women Total 103 83 77 54 17 46 40 44 43 12 51 43 31 97 29 97 83 75 170 370 201 180 381 58 39 97 44 39 15 45 24 II 89 63 26 48 12 34 34 15 37 8 41 21 12 85 20 75 55 27 156 119 275 143 119 262 Santa Fe Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors Totals Fall enrollment is expected to equal the 1974 figure at Annapolis and to exceed it at Santa Fe by a small number. At Commencement in Santa Fe on May 18, 1975, 27 seniors received their baccalaureate degrees, one of them summa cum laude, one magna cum laude, and four cum Annapolis Freshmen January Class Sophomores Juniors Seniors Santa Fe 117 125 128 105 107 105 23 21 22 20 29 30 110 51 54 98 85 45 105 69 70 110 85 70 103 83 77 118 76 355 374 394 390 399 400 71 laude. Boyd Cooke Pratt, of Honolulu, Hawaii, was awarded the Board's silver medal for the highest standing, and Matthew Gale Krane, '76, of Los Angeles, California, received the Duane L. Peterson Scholarship for academic achievement, constructive membership in the college community, and commitment to post-graduate study. In Annapolis on May 25, 1975, a total of 69 seniors were granted the B.A. degree, six of them magna cum laude and twelve cum laude. The Board's medal went to Michael Gerard Dink, of Cincinnati, Ohio, and Joseph 5 �The College Michael DiGeorge, '76, was awarded the Peterson Scholarship for his senior year. Matthew 0. DeBacker, of Jonesville, Michigan, received a Thomas J. Watson Foundation Fellowship. High scholarship awards in memory of C. Markland Kelly, Jr., were made to Vicky Louise Cass, '78, of New Milford, Connecticut, to David Evan Clement, '77, of Charlottesville, Virginia, and to Terry Clifton Schuld, '78, of Glen Head, New York. The first Joan Yvonne Ronay Memorial Scholarship was awarded to Julia Perkins, '78, of Barre, Massachusetts. In commenting on the year, Dean Ncidorf writes: uit is impossible to provide hard data in support of this contention, but I believe that morale and esprit among the students at the Santa Fe campus is noticeably better than in previous years." He attributed this in some measure to changing national patterns, but also largely to the skill and care of the student personnel staff. At Annapolis, Dean Wilson felt that improved student morale resulted from a new plan to diversify more widely the membership of tutorials and laboratories. Under the former scheme, students for a given tutorial or laboratory were drawn from one seminar, or at most two. The result was that a student normally shared classes with twenty students, or perhaps as many as thirty in any one year. The new plan increases this figure to forty. The Dean writes that the impetus for adopting this new method of assignment "was provided by oblique comments overheard during some two and a half decades, suggesting that students can become weary of one another's pet views, and fall-with shock be it spoken-into the sin of uncharitableness." The search for students to fill each entering class is a difficult one. Figures for the last three years show a steady number of applications at Annapolis and a slight decline at Santa Fe: Annapolis Santa Fe 1973 1974 1975 1973 1974 1975 205 207 207 170 178 190 24 !6 !3 65 71 74 10 5 107 !07 105 !07 107 2,348 3,731 4,659 604 232 245 288 Applications 167 169 !56 !36 145 145 Approved Rejected 23 17 6 Withdrawn 55 55 62 Deposits Received 89 97 88 Enrolled 90 97 85 Catalogues Sent 4,443 4,904 3,195 Portfolios Sent Campus Visitors !51 149 143 It should be noted that a different procedure is followed on each campus. At Santa Fe, requests are received for the catalogue as a result of a mailer sent to 43,888 secondary school seniors whose names have been provided by the College Board Student Search and by the Educational Opportunity Service of the American College Testing Service. At Annapolis, a different initial mailer was sent to 61,500 students east of the Mississippi whose names were similarly obtained. A return postcard then results in mail- 6 ing a booklet which provides practically all the information necessary to apply. Only when a second card is returned is the final kit or portfolio mailed. Hence, the figures above for 1975 show that 604 portfolios were mailed following 4,659 booklets, rather than catalogues. Although the Annapolis publications are expensive, the experience of the Admissions Office this year indicated that they were quite effective. Santa Fe used a small but appealing little brochure to follow up on prospects after the catalogue was sent. The two major difficulties which the two Directors of Admission face are the nationwide stress on career-oriented higher education and the relatively high price of a St. John's education, as compared with public institutions. With the job market so tight, there seems to be a greater awareness of the degree of economic advantage which various curricula may provide the student. The task of St. John's College is to persuade the prospective student of the value of a liberal arts education with the resultant versatility and other benefits which it provides. The problem of meeting the financial need of incoming students is almost insuperable. More than half of the students applying on each campus required some aid in order to come. In general, the College offers a package of a student aide job, a grant, and a loan, the latter usually the student's responsibility with a home bank. It is clear that the financial aid offers on both campuses often fall short of what the student and his parents believe to be the minimum they require, so there were a considerable number of withdrawals for financial reasons. This problem is likely to worsen in the years ahead. Increased scholarship funds and the federal programs in aid of individual students may alleviate the situation somewhat. The Staff The Annapolis campus lost the services of James Grant in November, when he resigned from the business ma,n~ agership to accept a position in the Budget Office of the City of Baltimore. For eleven years Mr. Grant had contributed helpfully and effectively to the smooth functioning of the Business Office. The person finally appointed Business Manager was Joseph Jackins, Jr., a graduate of the University of Maryland with business experience in computers and insurance. Mrs. Margaret Anne Geddes held appointment for the year as artist-in-residence, and Mrs. Karen Holland assumed the position of music librarian in September. Mrs. Nancy Blackburn resigned as secretary to the Dean in July. She was replaced by Mrs. Carolyn Logan, former secretary to the Provost. Mrs. Christiana White resigned as secretary to the Registrar at the end of August; that position was filled by Miss Caryle Rohde. In the Office of College Relations, Mrs. Elizabeth Parsons became secretary April 1st, succeeding Mrs. Kay Omstead, who resigned; Mrs. Thyrrice Marx transferred from that office to the Placement Office in September. Finally, there were a number of changes in the personnel of the Admis- �October, 1975 succeeding Miss Marilyn Wolff as typist in the Library. I am sorry to report the resignation of Mrs. Rebecca Lang as manager of the Book Store at the end of the year. Miss Hannah Hibbs, assistant manager, will assume the chief position. She will be assisted next year by Mrs. Claudia Porter. Within the buildings and grounds staff, Carlos Vigil, an employee of the College since 1964, was made Assistant Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds. Delegated to him was responsibility for supervising the custodial personnel, so that the Snperintendent, Stanley Nordstrom, could concentrate on the maintenance and operation of the physical plant, most of which is now eleven years old. Mrs. Toni Catanach, who had served faithfully as a housekeeper since the opening of the campus in 1964, retired in May. Finally, it should be noted that greater fringe benefits were extended to the buildings-and-grounds staff during the year. A revised staff handbook is being prepared by the two Treasurers, covering both administrative and buildings-and-grounds personnel. The Libraries sions Office, Mary Blanton sncceeding Mrs. Jeanne Mooring, '73, in August and then herself being replaced by Mrs. Patricia Sager in February. Miss Susan Seidenstricker, '77, was added to the staff for most of the year but left at the end of May. In his first year as Treasurer at Santa Fe, Emery Jennings more than lived up to expectations in handling the financial and business affairs of the College. Mr. Jennings reorganized the office and introduced computerization of most accounting records, in addition to the payrolls. Mrs. Mary Lou Nee! continued as bookkeeper, but with greater responsibility for accounting entries. Mrs. Joyce Jimenez became secretary to the Treasurer, with responsibility for payrolls and attendant reports. Mrs. Nicki Gonzales succeeded Mrs. Alice Roybal as cashier, combining with that position her previous duties as Development Office secretary. These changes all made for an efficient business office. David Sherman, '74, served as an assistant in the Admissions Office for the first half of the year, traveling and interviewing prospective students. Charles Vossler proved himself a capable technician in the laboratory. Other personnel appointments included Mrs. Marsha Drennon as secretary to the Assistant Deans, succeeding Mrs. Dana Anderson; Miss Lucinda Zizka as secretary to the Librarian, succeeding Miss Mary Lee Wright; Mrs. Pat Van Amberg as secretary in the Admissions Office; Mrs. Vera Stack as duplicating and supply clerk; and Perry Plummer, '71, For the second year, the Library on the Santa Fe campus benefited from the development grant awarded the College by the National Endowment for the Humanities. Mrs. Alice Whelan, the Librarian, reports that 6,139 books were catalogued and added to the collection over the two-year period. A significant part of these accessions were general reference works, 534 volumes under 147 titles. The College's library collection now numbers 37,016 books and 5,395 phonodiscs and phototapes, holdings quite ample for the needs of the St. John's program. The reference collection comes to the impressive total of 909 separate series aggregating 3,280 volumes. The general collection is strongest in American and European literature, with 5,135 titles. Next in number of titles are science (2,406), music (1,640), philosophy (1,554), history (I ,505), classical languages and literature (1,089), religion (916), and fine arts (807). Miss Charlotte Fletcher, Librarian on the Annapolis campus, expresses concern at the rising cost of books and hopes that the library endowment can be increased by $25,000 to assure an annual book-purchase fund of $9,000. During the year just ended, I, 739 volumes were added to the collection, and 324 books were discarded. A major gift of over a hundred books, principally in philosophy, was received from Mrs. Walter A. Louchheim of Washington. These were part of her late husband's library. With Title VI funds the Library purchased a projector and screen and began a new collection with 670 slides of works of art and of outstanding examples of architecture. Another major project was the duplicate taping of some eighty lectures by the late Leo Strauss, Distinguished Scholar-in-Residence at the College until his death in 1974. 7 �The College The Physical Plants Most of the maintenance on the Annapolis campus during the year was of a routine nature. It included installation of heating valves in radiators in several buildings, lighting for the parking lots, tree maintenance, and resurfacing of the tennis courts. A biology laboratory in Mellon Hall was converted into a small but attractive art gallery, which proved popular with the college community and with townspeople. James T. Wollon, A.I.A., of Havre de Grace, was retained to do the preliminary architectural study for the renovation of liS-year-old Paca-Carroll House, together with a modest addition. Michael and Michael, of Alexandria, were similarly commissioned to do studies on possible additions to Iglehart Hall (the gymnasium) and Randall Hall (the dining hall and dormitory). The studies will be submitted to the Board with Faculty recommendations this fall. During the year, Universal Associates, Inc., a local engineering firm, was employed to study the use of energy on campus. The survey was directed to the power plant and fuel-oil consumption, to total electricity use, and to mechanical problems in the library. The report has been submitted and is currently being reviewed before recommendations can be made. Meanwhile, conservation efforts have proven helpful in meeting the escalating utility rates. Fuel-oil consumption dropped from 236,566 gallons in 1972-73 to 199,916 gallons in 1973-74 and then to 191,583 gallons in the year under review. But during the three-year period the cost of the oil used rose from $27,387 to $61,554, and expenditures for gas and electricity rose from $31,836 to $45,000. This meant that one-third of the increase in tuition fees was absorbed by the higher prices for oil, gas, and electricity. amount expended on construction at Santa Fe since the New Mexico campus was conceived: Date Completed Building Square Feet Total Cost Cost Per Square Ft. 12,572 1964 Santa Fe Hall (classrooms) Evans Laboratory 37,656 Building Peterson Student 45,639 Center Dormitories 49,177 39,288 1969 Dormitories Infirmary 2,305 1971 Weigle Hall 19,140 (administration) 1973 Sternberger-Weis 10,304 Music & Fine Arts $ 366,186 $29 1,095,210 29 1,327,528 29 1,056,903 869,988 51,024 565,251 21 22 22 29 401,863 39 216,081 $5,733,953 Totals $26.5 I would point out that the entire campus cost less than a single building does at many colleges and universities. The Graduate Institute On August 15, 1975, the ninth session of the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education came to a close with the awarding of master's degrees to 25 men and women. The graduates came from fifteen states, from California to New Hampshire, from Alabama to Illinois. The profound impact of this summer graduate program can best be conveyed by quoting from a letter one teacher wrote to me to express gratitude for the experience: At Santa Fe, a serious maintenance problem was en- countered last summer when leakage of natural gas was discovered underneath the concrete steps and walkways of the plaza. The original mechanical contractor was consulted, and a decision was reached to lay new lines from a connection west of the Peterson Student Center around the Sternberger-Weis Building with new connections to Weigle Hall and Santa Fe Hall. The L. E. Meyer Company earned the gratitude of the College for accomplishing this work promptly and at no cost to the College. Natural gas is used to heat the individual buildings in Santa Fe. Here, too, the College experienced drastically increased costs. Over a three-year period expenditures for gas rose from $13,200 to $27,621, while electricity and water almost doubled, rising from $22,800 to $41,267. As the College commences its twelfth year on the western campus, I am pleased to report that the buildings seem to be holding up well. This seems to demonstrate the wisdom of the Board's policy of insisting on quality construction and on structures which would require :minimal maintenance and repair. In the light of current building costs, it may be interesting to summarize here the actual 8 These past three summers may be likened to a love affair. They have been intense, personal, agonizing, and yet-or therefore-rewarding. Ed- ., ucation will never again be for me a mere training, a mere establishment of proficiency in some subject matter; I have seen that it demands everything and promises everything; it does no·t tolerate sham or pretense; it destroys to build anew. I have been obliged to abandon many pet theories and preconceptions. I have been confronted with and stung by my ignorance so that I might see as if for the first time. David Jones has directed the Graduate Institute for three summers with imagination, with tact, and with a great sense of fairness. He has resigned to return to teaching and other responsibilities on the Faculty. I should like to thank him for a job well done. His successor is Robert L. Spaeth, of the Annapolis Faculty, who will assume his new duties on or about October !st. The Committee for the Graduate Institute has been constituted on the Annap- �October, 1975 olis campus. The Institute office in Santa Fe loses the capable services of Mrs. Cynthia Schlaer as Registrar; fortunately Mrs. Beverly Ross Smith, Mrs. Schlaer's predecessor, has returned to the position. The Alumni I am pleased to report an expanding number of seminars for alumni. At Homecoming, the Class of 1949 invited Stringfellow Barr to be their special guest and to lead them in a seminar. The New York alumni held four seminars between December and March, two each led by Tutors Robert Bart and Samuel Kutler. There were 27 alumni and spouses participating in the first summer seminars in Annapolis in June, and there were 32 participants during the fortnight of alumni seminars in Santa Fe in August. All seemed to agree that the seminars are stimulating and that they constitute an important contribution which the College can make to its alumni. I should like to express appreciation to the many tutors who served as co-leaders without any monetary recompense. At Homecoming, the Alumni Association and the Class of 1949 both graciously recognized Mrs. Weigle and me for our 25 years at the College. Mr. Barr and I became classmates when the 1949ers elected us to honorary membership. Alumni awards of merit went this year to John D. Alexander, '20, Benjamin Michaelson, '12, and Ernst 0. von Schwerdtner, '17. Bernard F. Gessner, '27, and William W. Simmons, '48, were re-elected president and executive vice-president of <the Association, respeotively. Edward F. Lathrop, '38, was named secretary, and Carol P. Tilles, '59, treasurer. In the election of alumni to terms on the Board of Visitors and Governors the successful nominees were James H. Frame, '50, of Los Altos Hills, California, and William W. Simmons, '48, of Linstead, Maryland. Giving to the Alumni Fund increased markedly over the preceding year. A total of $38,195 was received from 806 donors, as compared to $33,044 from 724 individuals in 1973-74. This represented a 26.6% response as compared to 24% a year ago. The average size of the gift increased to $47. Two new categories of donors were created, members of the President's Council, those who contributed $1,000 or more; and St. John's Sponsors, those who contributed $500 or more. In this first year, there were five who qualified for the President's Council, ten became St. John's Sponsors and 153 King William Associates. To all alumni who contributed this year I express the College's thanks. The future of the College depends, in fact, upon the willingness of the alumni on both campuses to accept this responsibility for ongoing financial support. I hope the day is not too distant when the goal of $100,000 will be achieved in Annapolis and of $25,000 on the much younger Santa Fe campus. To this end the Santa Fe alumni are now well organized in a class agent-secretary plan for the first time. The College and the Outside World It is a frustrating and never-ending task to present the College and its distinctive educational program to its many publics-to prospective students, their parents, and teachers through the catalogue and admissions materials, to alumni and friends through Tl1e College, and to the public at large through newspaper and magazine articles. This spring, noteworthy stories appeared in the New York Times and in the Potomac Magazine of the Wash-· ington Post, the latter under the dubious title, "St. John's College and Civilization: College as Paradise." Robert Goldwin's appointment to President Ford's staff prompted a flurry of references to St. John's. The Chronicle of Education carried a boxed list of the books read at the College, provoking the usual caustic criticisms from some who misunderstand the role of the books in the Program. Then, too, I should note that Arthur Levine and Jolm Weingart in their new book, Reform of Undergraduate Education, state that St. John's College has succeeded in establishing the best functioning one among "general education programs," the other two being the Directed Studies Program at Yale and the discontinued Experimental College Program on the Berkeley campus of the University of California. In a book entitled To Be or Not to Be, Duncan Williams found groundless the fears once expressed that graduate schools would shun those who had received the general degree of Bachelor of Arts at St. 9 �The College John's College. He writes: "St. John's graduates are now sought after because of their breadth of vision and ger;eral culture. What the curriculum does offer, and m tlus it differs markedly from hybrids such as the usual 'interdisciplinary studies,' is a genuine demand o? the intellect, and it is thus above and beyond the seemmgly mtermm- Foundations Corporations Government 119,900 46,307 50,522 140,495 25,432 213,952 863,503 $429,059 $2,057,394 $354,360 14,900 45 3,320 40,566 15,868 $ 706,375 63,034 6,450 188,473 90,005 897,996 105,061 $429,059 $2,057,394 Bequest Totals able wrangle over the shallowness versus narrowness." . In the area of public relations the College has contmued to believe that it has both an opportunity and a responsibility to share its cultural programs and its facilities with the Annapolis and Santa Fe commumtJes. The Annapolis Opera presented three operas this season in the Key Memorial Auditorium, and the Annapolis Ballet performed at Christmastime. The new art gallery attracted many townspeople, as did the regular concerts and lectures. At Santa Fe, the Book and Author Luncheons continued to be popular, as did the concerts, the art gallery shows, and the Indian Table, now merged with the program of the Southwest Association of Indian Arts. Special mention should be made of the concert by soprano Jan de Gaetani in November. Saturday mght films were well attended on both campuses. In the spring there was a noteworthy benefit conducted by the seniors to raise money toward the cost of a gymnasium. Gregory Peck graciously appeared in person, and two of his films were shown, The Gunfighter and To Kill a Mockingbird. The most exciting use of the campus occurred in June when the biennial conference of the International Union for Pure and Applied Physics was held on the Santa Fe campus. About 200 persons attended the week-long sessions. The subject was high energy physics and nuclear structure. Arrangements were in the hands of scientists from the nearby Los Alamos Laboratory, under the perceptive and capable direction of Dr. Louis Rosen, Director of the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory Pi-Meson Facility. Finances Both campuses operated within their respective budgets during the year. At Annapolis, revenues amounted to $2,476,430 against total expenditures of $2,455,545, thus adding $20,875 to the reserve fund for the future. At Santa Fe, there was a favorable margin of only $510, as expenditures of $2,343,444 were just covered by income of $2,343,954. Gifts and grants played a most important part in achieving these favorable outcomes. The following chart analyzes the monies received as to source and purpose: Donors Annapolis Board SJC Community Alumni Parents Friends $ 9,840 13,117 156,986 6,555 25,832 10 Santa Fe $ 690,570 13,132 4,119 2,904 103,287 Purposes Unrestricted Scholarships Library Other Restricted Graduate Institute Endowment Plant Totals I should like to single out for special acknowledgment a major gift of $100,000 from an alumnus and a grant of $85,000 from the Hodson Trust, both for general purposes at Annapohs. ~t Santa Fe, let me note that the second annual sustaining campaign among local Citizens ratsed $32,000, a third more than the year before. The two largest amounts received on the western campus were $200,000 from a former board member and his wife and $185,473 from the National Endowment for the Humanities, representing the second installment of the development grant. Gifts in kind included a splendid collectiOn of Indian rugs from Mr. and Mrs. Edwin J. Bienecke, Jr., of New York City, four excellent pieces of Indian pottery from Mrs. Richard Modrall, of Albuquerque: New Mexico, and a large number of books from many mdiVJ· dual donors. For all the contributions, whether of one dollar or of hundreds of thousands of dollars, the Faculty, the students, the staff, and I are tremendously grateful. The first major bequest for the Santa Fe endowment was received during 1975 under the will of the late Nonpa Fiske Day, of Santa Fe. In the major distribution of the estate, St. John's College has received $863,503. A later accounting may increase this figure to $900,000. In accordance with the expressed wishes of Mrs. Day, permanent funds have been established, the annual income from which will be used for a tutor's salary in music, for the library, and for student scholarships. All of these funds now bear Mrs. Day's name as a memorial to her. During the year under review, the Finance Committee of the Board decided to retain new investment counsel. The Annapolis endowment portfolio was divided, twothirds going to Endowment Management and Research, Inc., of Boston, Massachusetts, and one-third, together with the Santa Fe endowment, going to Fayez Sarofim & Company, of Houston, Texas. The transfer of securities was practically completed by June 30th. It is hoped that at least a six percent annual return can be provided by the two counsellors. Mercantile Safe Deposit and Trust Company of Baltimore continues as custodian for the �October, Annapolis endowment managed by Endowment Management and Research, while the balance, plus the Santa Fe endowment, will be in the custodianship of the First National Bank of Santa Fe. One of the increasingly difficult problems confronting the College on both of its campuses is the mounting need for scholarships and other student financial aid. At Annapolis, a total of $265,666 was made available, as detailed in the chart below. This represented nearly one-ninth of the College's budget. At Santa Fe, the need was considerably greater, for $334,005 was provided, slightly more than one-seventh of the overall budget. Types of Financial Aid Annapolis $ 52,757 Campus Jobs Grants-in-Aid 121,458 12,600 Maryland Scholarships St. John's Scholarships 5,650 (Faculty & Staff Children) Other Scholarships 52,293 Federal Programs . 8,108 National Direct Student Loans 12,800 Totals $265,666 Santa Fe $ 85,760 126,604 1975 ceeding ones. It would include an index of major projects to be funded; such as the renovation of Paca-Carroll House and provision of more adequate dining and gymnasium facilities at Annapolis, and a modest physical education building, a library, and an auditorium at Santa Fe. Finally, it would seek sizeable accretions to the College's endowment through bequests and deferred giving. For such an effort, we will seek new sources of help from foundations and individuals. But we will need the continued devoted giving of every Board member. And we must look, as never before, to a far greater measure of support from each alumnus and each friend of the College. I shall do my best to assure the College's continued existence, both at Annapolis and at Santa Fe. I can only hope that each person who reads this report will understand the gravity of the College's situation and will be sufficiently committed to its principles and program to share responsibility for safeguarding St. John's future. 21,722 35,330 29,824 34,765 Richard D. Weigle President Santa Fe, New Mexico August 28, 1975 $334,005 The College bases its financial aid offers to students on an analysis of the parents' confidential statement, following the outline prepared for families of all college students by the College Entrance Examination Board. In a number of cases the student's need exceeds the College's capability, and an alternative choice of college must be made, or the student must drop out for a year or so to earn a part of his fees. Since federal funds are for the most part available to lower-income students, the whole situation constitutes a genuine dilemma. Middle-income families are more and more hard pressed at just the time when the least financial assistance is available to them. The future of many independent colleges and universities is uncertain at best. Thus far, St. John's College has been remarkably fortunate in managing to avoid annual deficits and accumulated debt. Whether fees, endowment income, and gifts and grants can keep pace with soaring energy costs and necessary salary increases remains to be seen. To provide at least a tentative conclusion as to the future, I have asked the Treasurers and Vice-Presidents on both campuses to prepare five-year budget projections to 1980. I am convinced in my own mind that there is no alternative but to move forward. I shall propose to the Board at its next meeting the launching of the Fund for 1980, a broadly based effort to carry the two campuses through the relative instability of the next five years to a time when the whole economic climate of the country may have bettered itself and a new spirit of confidence may prevail. A Fund for 1980 would aim first to underwrite the operating budgets of both campuses for the coming fiscal year and for the four sueII �~ BALANCE SHEETS N >-3 :T "' () June 30, 1975 ASSETS LIABILITIES AND FUND BALANCES CURRENT FUNDS Annapolis 74,959 7,300 50,157 28,641 4,650 7,193 Unrestricted Cash .................... . Accounts Receivable, Net ...... , ............. . Due from Other Funds ........................ . Inventory Bookstore at Cost ................... . Investments, at Cost ............. , ............ . Prepaid Expenses ........................... . Restricted Cash .......•.................................. Due from Other Funds ........................ . Investments, at Cost .......................... . 38,001 81,250 -172,900 ' 110,433 6,000 282,906 --399,339 --- $ Total Current Funds Santa Fe ' 40,040 10,699 61.918 $ 231,908 $ 100,709 28,546 34,990 Total Loan Funds .............. . ' 572,239 Total Life Estate Funds ... Reserve for Future Operations. . . . . . ..........•. Fund Balance Total Current Funds ' 11,105 601 171,756 $ $ 183,462 $ 223,166 11,722 45,865 50,800 61,399 ' ' ' '• $ Restricted 20,445 6,000 62,211 37,886 126,542 46,358 ' $ 169,786 62,122 172,900 ' 399,339 $ 164,245 572,239 $ 396,153 $ 231,908 LOAN FUNDS 12,318 25,902 183,946 1,000 -- Due to Current ................................... AdvanCes from Federal Government for National Direct Student Loans ................. Fund Balance .. ................................ Total Loan Funds ................... $ ..... 170,726 12,736 ' 300 193,909 28,957 $ 183,462 $ 223,166 $ .. .... .. .... $ 193,430 LIFE ESTATE FUNDS s .... ...... ' 16,069 177,361 '- - - 27,488 1,196,268 670 627,002 6,280,489 3,000 Liability under Life Estate Agreements ......... Total Life Estate Funds ..... , , ................. $ $ 193,430 $ 193,430 ENDOWMENT FUNDS Cash ............................................ . Receivables ..................................... . Pledges Receivable ................................ . Investment Cash Account ......................... . Investments, at Cost ....... . ......... , . , , .. Unrestricted Accounts Payable ...................... . Due to Other Funds .......................... . Student Advance Deposits ................. . Deferred Income ............................. . Santa Fe $ 396,153 LIFE ESTATE FUNDS Due from Current Unrestricted Funds ...... . Due from Plant Funds .......... . Annapolis $ 164,245 LOAN FUNDS Cash ............•................................ Student Loans Receivable ........................ . National Direct Student Loans .................. . United Student Aid Deposit ..... . CURRENT FUNDS 0 ENDOWMENT FUNDS $ Fund Balance .................... . Unexpended Income .............................. . Due to Other Funds ......................... . $ 8,086,885 12,651 32,381 $1,234,462 863,503 367,959 ' Total Endowment Funds .... . $ 8,131,917 $1,234,462 16,398 7,012,641 $ 177,361 26,083 1,048,594 1,575,000 4,268,275 $ 7,029,039 $ 8,368 $ $7,095,313 $ 7,422 $ 247,883 s 8,131,917 $1,234,462 375,677 5,675,141 394,221 584,000 $ 533,245 5,906,741 655,327 $ 7,029,039 ...... 8,368 $7,095,313 7,422 $ $ 247,883 Total Plant Funds $ 7,037,407 $7,350,618 Total Funds .......................... . $}5,925,025 $9,397,829 Total Endowment Funds ....... . PLANT FUNDS Land and Improvements .......................... . Buildings •..... , ................................. . Equipment, Furnishings, Library Books ............ . Land and Improvements California ............... . Unexpended Plant Funds ................... . Bond Sinking Fund Investments ..... . PLANT FUNDS ' --- $ $ Due to Other Funds ....................... . Notes Payable--Other ........................... . Loans Payable to Annapolis Campus .............. . Donnitory Bonds Payable ........................ . Net Invested in Plant ............................ . Unexpended Plant Funds .......................... . Bond Sinking Fund .............................. . $ Total Plant Funds $ 7,037,4(17 $7,350,618 Total Funds .......................... . $15,925,025 $9,397,829 l "' �ANNAPOLIS ENDOWMENT FUNDS CONDENSED STATEMENTS OF REVENUE AND EXPENDITURES June 30, 1975 Fiscal Year Ended June 30, 1975 Gift of Donor TUTORSHIP ENDOWMENTS: Annapolis Endowment ..............• , , , ..... , ........ , .. Gifts and Grants . , .. , .... , , ................. . Government Programs and Grants ..........•.. Graduate Institute , .... , ..................... . Miscellaneous ................................ . Santa Fe $1,135,578 394,575 304,365 69,962 61,965 $ 753,484 45,820 718,553 191.542 174,113 36,528 $1,966,445 Educational & General Tuition Fees ................................ . $1,920,040 1,989,954 150,216 2,679,845 500,000 150,000 $ 313,432 2,679,845 2,489,954 300,216 $2,453,602 Richard Hammond Elliott, 1917 ..............•.. Andrew W. Mellon Foundation Grants .......... . Addison E. Mullikin, 1895 .................•..... Arthur de Talma Valk, 1906 ...•.....•.••........ REVENUE A. W.MeUon Total Fund Foundation Matchhtg Gift Principal $3,329,845 $5,783,447 $ $ $ 313,432 $ SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS: 99,301 $ 61,196 197,100 154,931 $ ' 86,142 52,177 154,377 131,218 $ 413,227 $ 337,772 Total Revenues ....................... . $2,478,973 $2,343,!)54 Net Income , .................... , , . , .. . $ 20,887 $ 510 EXPENDITURES Educational & General Administrative ...... , , ......... , . , .......... . General , ..•.................................. Instruction, Undergraduate ...............•.... Instruction, Graduate & Other .........•...... Student Activities ........................... . Federal Programs .........•.. , .......•....... Plant Operations & Maintenance. . ........ . s $1,998,594 Student Financial Aid ........................... . Auxiliary Enterprises Bookstore ................................. ·. · Dining Hall ..................•............... Dormitories .................................. . $ 296,686 178,579 1,020,818 2,206 24,084 20,449 455,772 $1.821,795 $ 197,662 $ 213,480 $ 71,331 190,499 $ 221,564 162,766 862,718 189,051 35,485 46,806 303,405 51,915 157,999 98,255 -- $ 261,830 "" Total Expenditures .................. . $ 308,169 $2,458,086 $2,343,444 7,367 30,000 50,000 7,500 6,140 8,672 87,933 7,000 13,705 270 115 1,000 46,436 50,050 300,500 45,287 1,000 72,000 40,759 10,000 45,370 39,262 52,000 6,265 1,120 12,500 7,056 4,106 2,000 3,664 7,181 1,552 18,220 $ 654,799 Student Financial Aid Auxiliary Entel"Prises Bookstore ...............••....••............. Dining Hall , .............................. . Dormitories ...............•................... -- $ 323,864 $ 978,663 $ 20,144 6,372 $ 20,000 1,470 $ 40,144 7,842 $ Annapolis Self Help ............ ,................ George M. Austin, 1908 ........................ . Walter S. Baird, 1930 ......................•.... Chicago Regional ....................•......... Class of 1897 ...••..•........................... Class of 1898 ...............................•..• Richard Cleveland .....•........ , .............. . Dr. Charles C. Cook .........................•.. Corp. George E. Cunniff, III .•.................. Mary E. Dodd ................................. . Clarence Dickinson, 1911 ....................... . Faculty .............•...... · .• · .. - .•... · . · · ... . John T. and Gertrude L. Harrison, 1907 ........ . Richard H. Hodgson, 1906 ...... , ..........•. , .. . Alfred and Ruth Houston, 1906 ................. . Houston Regional .........................•.... Jesse H. Jones and Mary Gibbs Jones ........... . Robert E._ and Margaret Larsh Jones, 1909 ..... . Arthur E. and Hilda Combs Landers, 1930 ...... . Massachusetts Regional ....................... . Philip A. Myers, II, 1938 ..... , .....•............ Oklahoma Regional ........................... . Thomas Parran Memorial, 1911 •.. , ..•.• ,.,, .... . Pittsburgh Regional ........................... . Readers Digest Foundation •..• , .•.....•..•..... Clifton C. Roehle ............................. . Murray Joel Rosenberg Memorial. ...•..•.. , .. , .. Flora Duvall Sayles ........................... . Hazel Norris and J. Graham Shannahan, 1908 .. . Clarence W. Stryker ........................... . Frederick J. von Schwerdtner .......•.....•.• , .. Richard D. Weigle ............................. . 26,516 $ 21,470 $ 47,986 $ 1.100 7,025 $ $ 1,100 7.025 $ 15,000 25,000 7,500 3,070 8,672 87,933 7,000 13,705 135 15,000 25,000 3,070 135 115 1,000 44,077 30,025 150,250 42,787 500 36,000 49,759 10,000 22,685 30,262 26,000 6,265 560 12,500 7,056 4,106 2,000 3,664 3,768 1,552 10,853 2,359 20,025 150,250 2,500 500 36,000 22,685 9,000 26,000 560 3,413 STUDENT LOAN FUND ENDOWMENTS: George Friedland ............................. , John David Pyle, 1962, Memorial................ ALUMNI MEMORIAL ENDOWMENTS: Granville Q. Adams, 1929 ........... , . , . . . . . • . . . . Charles Edwards Athey, 1931. .................. . Judge L. C. Bailey, 1911. ...................... . William F. Baxter, 1923 ....................... . Drew H. Beatty, 1903 ........................... . Dr. William Brewer, 1823 ...................... . Frederick W. Brune, 1874 ...................... . Benjamin Duvall Chambers, 1905 ............... . Henry M. Cooper, Jr., 1934 ..................... . Walter I. Dawkins, 1880 .......•. , •. ,,, ••.••.•• , Robert F. Duer, Jr., 1921. .................... .. Dr. Phillip H. Edwards, 1898 .................... . Joseph W. Fastner, Jr., 1960 •.. ,,.,,.,, .• ,.,,.,. Allen Lester Fowler, 1915 ...................... . Edna G. and Roscoe E. Grove, 1910 ....•..•...... 100 100 25 600 125 855 2,638 1,000 58,683 3,590 1,135 2,000 500 16,556 25 200 125 507 1,000 335 985 500 800 250 1,362 2,638 2,000 58,683 3,925 2,120 2,000 1,000 16,556 0 0 () u ro - -~ -o "-1 v.. �A. W.Mellon Total Fund Gift of Foundation Donor Matching Gift Principal Total A. W.Mellon Fund Gift of Foundation Donor Matching Gift Principal ...,._ ~ Charles W. Hass, 1927 .......................... . John M. J. Hodges, 1904.,.,,, .. , .. , •• ,.,.,,., •• Dr. Amos F. Hutchins, 1906 .................... . Clarence T. Johnson, 1909 .. , .. , .............. ,,. Clifford L. Johnson, 1911. ..................... . Helen B. Jones and Robert 0. Jones, 1916 ...... . Jonathan D. Korshin, 1966, Library Fund ....... . Oliver M. Korshin, 1963, Library Fund ......... . Dr. W. Oscar LaMotte, 1902.,,,,,, •. ,, ....... , •. John H. E. Legg, 1921. ........••.••.•.•••.•••• William Lentz, 1912 ..........•.........•...... Leola B. and Thomas W. Ligon, 1916 ........... . Col. Harrison McAlpine, 1909 ................... . James R. McClintock, 1965, Prize Fund ........ . Vincent W. McKay, 1946 ....................... . H. Boyns MacMannis, 1924 ...... , .. , .....• ,.,,,. Robert E. Maddox, 1876 ........................ . William P. Maddox, 1921. ...............•.. ,.,. Charles Gomber Mantz, 1875, Library Fund ..... . William L. Mayo, 1899 ....•.. , . , . , .... , .. , ..... . Ridgely P. Melvin, 1899 .......................•. Wm. S. Morsell, 1923, Athletic Fund ........... . John Mullan, 1847 ............................ . Walter C. My lander, Jr., 1932 ....... , .......... . M. Keith Neville, 1905 ............• ,, ........... . Dr. John 0. Neustadt, 1939 .................... . Blanchard Randall, 1874 ................. , ..... . Susan Irene Roberts, 1966 ...................... . Leroy T. Rohrer, 1903 ............... , ...•.. , .. . Elliott A. Rosenberg, 1963 ..................... . Harrison Sasscer, 1944 ............•.••••••• , ••. Charles H. Schoff, 1889 ........................ . Henry F. Sturdy, 1906 ......................... . Rev. Enoch M. Thompson, 1895., .•. , ........... . Col. Guy D. Thompson, 1916 .............•..•.•.. John T. Tucker, 1914 ................... , ...... . Dr. Robert S. G. Welch, 1913 .................. .. Dr. Willis H. White, 1922 .............. ,.,., •••. Amos W. W. Woodcock, 1903... . .......... . 633 100 100 18,357 40 1.000 1,291 7,563 40 1,000 658 25,920 200 200 5,140 23,223 1,020 5,000 1,020 325 325 466 21,806 4,500 1,650 2,000 1,000 12,219 100 100 5,000 10,000 6,333 1,000 1.109 5,000 10,000 1,000 851 330 702 100 100 1,920 4,550 500 500 28,633 3,000 3,000 700 ..... . 125 625 1,000 2,500 125 625 2,000 $ 264,684 $ 34,973 100 100 200 200 5,140 23,223 2,040 5,000 650 466 21,806 4,500 1,650 2,000 1,000 12,219 200 10,000 20,000 6,333 2,000 1,109 1,181 702 200 1,920 4,550 1,000 28,633 6,000 700 2,500 250 1,250 3,000 $ 299,657 OTHER ENDOWMENTS: Hertha S. and Jesse L. Adams Concert Fund ... . Alumni Memorial Book Fund .................. . Charles Edward Stuart Barton Memorial Library Fund .............................. . Philo Sherman Bennett Prize Fund ............. . Benwood Foundation Library Fund ............. . George A. Bingley Memorial Fund .......... , .. . Scott Buchanan Memorial Fund ................. . Helen C. and George Davidson, Jr., 1916 ....... . The Dunning Memorial Fund .................... . Fund for Tomorrow Lectureship ................ . Floyd Hayden Prize Fund ...................... . Joseph H. Hazen Foundation Lectureship Fund .. . Mary Safford Hoogewerff Memorial Library Fund Maid Compensation Fund .................... . Margaret Lauck Memorial Library Fund. Library Fund ................................. . Monterey Mackey Memorial Fund ............... . Emily Boyce Mackubin Fund ................ , .. . Ellen C. Murphy M-emorial Library Fund ....... . Kate Moore Myers Landscaping Fund ..... . Henry H. and Cora Dodson Sa;;scer Newspaper Fund ......................... , . Adolph W. Schmidt Fund ....................... . Richard Scofield Memorial Fund ................ . Mrs. Blair T. Scott Memorial Prize Fund ....... . Kathryn Mylroie Stevens Memorial Prize Fund .. . Clare Eddy and Eugene V. Thaw, 1947 Lectureship Fund ........................... . Elma R. and Charles D. Todd Memorial Library Fund ............................... . Millard Tydings Prize Fund ................... . Clara B. Weigle Memorial Library Fund ........ . $ 60,000 355 $ 60,000 500 308 500 308 25,000 20,250 5,770 21,625 10,000 3,000 $ 120,000 355 25,000 3,000 50,000 20,250 5,770 21,625 10,000 6,000 103 1.000 31,683 10,000 789 78 25 1,000 31,683 10,000 789 560 400 960 900 1,500 75,192 3,000 124,349 900 75,192 1,500 124,349 1,500 15,628 1,568 518 1,250 1,500 15,628 1,568 518 1,250 20,900 20,900 Daniel E. Weigle and Jessie N. Weigle Memorial Fund ......•..... , ................ . The Jack Wilen Foundation Library Fund in Memory of Murray Joel Rosenberg ........ . Victor Zuckerkandl Memorial Fund .......•.. ,,,, Alumni Endowment ................. , , ........ . General Endowment ........................... . $1,215,698 Loss on Sale of Securities ...................... ($ 534,300) Total Endowment .......... , . . 2,500 2,500 1,000 19,325 210,800 526,154 $4,080,999 $ 295,734 19,500 39,000 1,000 1,196 $1,511,432 ($ $ $4,005,886 534,300) $8,086,885 SANTA FE ENDOWMENT FUNDS June 30, 1975 TUTORSHIP ENDOWMENT: Norma Fiske Day Fund ................. . Gift of Donor $ 500,000 SCHOLARSHIP ENDOWMENTS: Helen and Everett Jones Fund .....• , .•.• , .......................•..•• Norma Fiske Day Fund .. , •.................. , •.. ,.,, ............... . Readers Digest Foundation Fund .................................... . Nina Otero Warren Memorial Fund ..................... ,., •..... , .. . Gen-eral Scholarship Fund ....................... , ................... . Evelyn Mitchell Memorial Fund ..•..• , .• , ......................•.. , .. Graduate Institute • , .. , ............................. , . , .. , ........ , . $ 120,000 200,000 12,500 1,875 13,157 25,000 457 $ 372,989 LIBRARY ENDOWMENTS: Emlen Davies Fund.,,., ...................... , ..................... . Norma Fiske Day Fund ........ ,.,,.,,., .............. , •. ,., .. , ..... . Angeline Eaton Memorial Fund ................ , .................... . Nina S. Garson Memorial Fund ... , • , .... , ................. , , ........ . Duane L. Peterson Memorial Fund ...........•......................• Victor Zuckerkandl Memorial Fund .........................•..•..••.. Memorial, Honor and Life Membership Funds ......• , ..... , .......... . $ 1,118 163,503 1,150 2,000 800 1,000 35,711 $ 205,282 OTHER ENDOWMENTS: Bromwell Ault, Sr., Memorial Fund .............•. , •..• , .. , ......... . Henry Austin Poetry Fund ....................................•...... Margaret Bridwell Bowdle Fund ................... ,,, ..... , ......... . Fletcher Catron Memorial Fund ......•.. , ................•..• , •. ,., .• Margo Dawn Gerber Prize Fund ....•..•............... , .. , ......... . Elizabeth R. and Alvin C. Graves Memorial Fund,, .................. . Margaret Milliken Hatch Fund ........• ,., .................•.. , .... . Frank Patania Memorial Fund .... , ...•. , ................ ,, ... , ..... . Winfield Townley Scott Memorial Fund .......... , ................... . E. I. "Tommy" Thompson Memorial Fund, .... , ............... ,,.,.,. Millard E. Tydings Prize Fund ........•.. , ............ , . , .• , ........ . Clare B. Weigle Memorial Fund .............•.• , ....................• Jessie N. and Daniel E. Weigle Fund .. ,, .................. ,.,., .. ,, .. Other Funds ................. , .•.. , ................ , , .. , .... , , •••.. , $ 1,037 7,500 40,000 1,300 1,141 8,881 35,000 3,341 2,535 1.865 1,000 4,713 2,500 1,251 $ 112,064 FOUNDATION ENDOWMENT FUNDS: Total Endowment .......................... . $ 46,541 3,600 $ Los Alamos Ranch School Fund ........................ ,,,, •........ Other Foundation ........................• , ........................ . Gain (Loss) on Sale of Securities ................................... .. 19,500 1,000 1,196 1,000 19,325 397,109 526,154 186,309 ..... . 50,141 ($ 6,014) $1,234,462 ~ §:. .~ - ' -0 ..._, V> �October, 1975 CLASS NOTES 1928 1953 During the 1975 summer session, Louis L. Snyder was Fulbright Visiting Professor at the University of Cologne, 'Vest Germany. Ed Bauer writes that he attended a most interesting Gestalt 11Ierapy workshop in La Jo1la, Cal., in August, for his own personal growth and for the counseling degree toward which he is working, but also finds the experience most helpful in his teaching of German language and literature courses. 1931 Circuit Court Judge Matthew S. Evans has been appointed administrative judge for Maryland's Fifth Judicial Circuit, which includes Anne Arundel, Howard, and Carroll Counties. Judge Evans has been on the court bench since 1956. 1937 Col. Harold L. Brooks writes that after 15 years of private dental practice in Arlington, Va., and some 20 years of Air Force dentistry, he retired in 1973. He is now professor of oral medicine at the University of F1orida Co1lege of Dentistry in Gainesville. Harold also has a son who is a practicing dentist in Vero Beach, Fla. 1940 Hall E. Timanus heads trial work for the Houston law firm of Andrews, Kurth, Campbell & Jones. In 1972 Hall was appointed a member of the Democratic National Committee from Texas, and was named to the Democratic Charter Commission by Terry Sanford. 1947 On July Ist Theodore Ernst became dean and professor in the School of Social \Velfare at the University of Kansas. 1948 George R. Trimble, Jr., is president of his own independent computer consulting company, T-Logic, Inc., in Princeton, N.J. 1952 11Ie value of the Alumni Communicard is still being proved. T11e latest is from David E. Napper, who uses it to bring us up to date on his doings. lie joined the Air Force in 1952, became a weather officer, joined IBM in 1957 as a systems engineer, and is now located at the company's Data Processing Division head· quarters in "White Plains, N.Y. l-Ie manages Independent Study Program development, creating multi-media self-study courses on various aspects of computing. Dave and his wife Jean have a daughter Janet, 18, and a son, Keith, who is 13. 1957 Blake Kline, son of Comelia (HoHman) Burdette and \Villiam E. Kline '59 is a freshman in Annapolis this year. Cornelia is living and teaching in Baltimore city. Bill is with a law firm in Tehran, Iran. 1959 Peter M. Rice, a mathematics professor at the University of Georgia since 1963, this sum. mer \Vas awarded his second Humboldt Fellowship to carry out research projects in the Federal Republic of Gcnnany. Peter is studying the application of mathematical models to political science, work for which he is already internationally recognized. Toronto, and is cunently teaching high school. He is still single, and lives on a farm outside Toronto. 1964 Eric Lutker holds the Ph.D. degree from Colorado State University, is employed as Coordinating Director, Commack Consultation Center, Commack, N.Y., and is senior psychologist at the Suffolk (N.Y.) Rehabilitation Center for the physically handicapped. A note from Arlene (Andrew) Banh says that she lacks only a thesis to receive her degree as a Y\'[aster of Urban Planning. Husband Bill will be at Johns Hopkins during the fall semester, doing research in perception. The Banks's son Joshua is now four years old, and is, to quote his mother, "a very jolly sort of person." 1965 Linda (Bender) Erickson has just received her M.A. degree in librarianship from San Jose (Cal.) State University, and is employed by Lockheed Information Systems, working with DIALOG, Lockheed's computerized information retrieval system. 1960 1966 The new head of the Appellate Division, Office of the District Attorney of Suffolk (Boston) County, Mass., is Mary Gallagher. During the current academic year, Richard Fielding has an appointment as Visiting Assistant Professor of Law at the University of North Carolina. Dick will be teaching contracts, negotiable instruments, and a seminar on discrimination. Carol (Picardo) Kelley writes that living in Paris, delightful place though it is, takes some getting used to. She and Loren '67 see Robert_,; K. Thomas '63 frequently, and with the 11wmases had lunch with tutor Geoffrey Comber, his wife and son, when the Combers were in Paris last spring. John Trotter writes that he is a candidate (doctoral, we assume) in philosophy in the department of biological structure at the Uni\'ersity of Washington. I-Iis resemch concerns the deYclopmental biology of striated muscle 1961 Michael \XI. Ham writes that Man' Lou (Ryce) has completed the first summef of an accelerated law school program at the University of Imva. She hopes to receive her J.D. degree in August 1977. Mike is now Director, General Systems, at American College Testing. 1l1e June issue of The Atlantic Monthly contained an article on the popular subject of sugar by John Pekkanen. Amanda (Mayer) Stiucl1ecum tells us that she is a candidate for the Ph.D. degree in Japanese and comparath·e literature as Colulllhia University. 1962 Allen Reid, who visited Annapolis this past year, is operating a camera repair shop in Plainfield, Vt. Allen and his wife Liisa have two children. 1963 Among those who attended the Annapolis Alumni Seminar Program this past June was Daniel AI. Sherman. Dan has an M.A. degree from the University of Toronto in philosophy, taught for three ye.cm at York Uni\'ersity, in vitro. 1968 Bettina A. Briggs (SF), a Boston area attorney, is a member of the Board of Trustees at Southeastern Massachusetts University. 2nd Lt. Lois J. HoHman, USAF, informs us that she is stationed at Seymour Johnson AFB in North Carolina, as a registered nurse in the 4th Tactical Fighter Hospital. She hopes to attend East Carolina University to complete her B.S. degree in nursing. George WI. Partlow is working in the Alaska 15 �The College State Library as an acquisition clerk. George says he has been doing "all sorts of stuff, including some Russian translation," and enjoyed meeting Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn when the latter visited Alaska. George has heard from Clmrles Watson and Kerry Nemovicl1er; the former is stationed at the Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, Va., while the latter is still in Israel. Ann Arbor, Mich., will be home for the coming year for Antigone (Phalares) Moore (SF) while her husband works on his master's degree in public health. Joe Sachs, a tutor in Annapolis since last winter, in May received his M.A. degree in philosophy from The Pennsylvania State University. Deborah Schwartz and Gilbert Renaut were married on August 18th in Nantucket, Mass. Douglas Allanbrook, Annapolis tutor, was best man. Deborah is returning as a tutor on the Annapolis campus this year, while Gibby will work as an attorney with the Employee Benefits Division of the Office of the Solicitor of Labor of the United States. Steven Shore (SF) recently accepted a posi· tion with Avis as a financial analyst. Julia (von Edla) Gregg (SF) and her husband Tosh have been married six years, and own and live on their own farm, where they raise a lot of their own food. The Greggs have two daughters, Alison Rachel, three years old, and Sally Belie, three months. 1969 Lee Fischler (SF) is a teaching associate in EngliSh at the University of Arizona, and started work on his doctoral dissertation in September. Maya Hasegawa in the past year made a 5Yz month trip from Nova Scotia to Vancouver Island and then down the West Coast and back, taking photographs, hiking and camping. She is now employed as Training Coordinator for the Commonwealth of Virginia Equal Employment Opportunity Program. Her sister, Kimi '73, graduated from Marlboro College in May, and spent the summer at the Aspen Music Festival in Colorado. Let us quote directly the fo1Jowing from Captain Carlton S. Severance: "Regan Mensch (SF '71 ) and I were married in I 969 and lived in California until I graduated from the School of Veterinary Medicine at U.C./Davis in 1973. Since then I have been the base veterinarian at Wurtsmith AFB, Oscoda, Mich. Son Alexander \vas born in May 1974. Am nearly paraly7,ed with ennui. Please write. Address: 8028-D, So. Alaska, \Vurtsmith AFB, MI 48753." Just after press time for the July issue we received a fine long letter from Catherine (Allen) Wagner, written from Cuzco, Peru. Kitty is working on her dissertation under a grant from the Doherty Foundation of Princeton University, specifically on the iconography of ritual drinking vessels from the Incaic and Colonial periods in Peru. She and her husband are living at an elevation of 12,000 feet, in a 16 ATTENTION ALL ALUMNI: CALL FOR NOMINATIONS In the spring of 1976 two openings will be created for Alumni Representatives on the Board of Visitors and Governors, as Julius Rosenberg '38 and Thomas E. Stern SF68 reach the end of their current three-year terms. Both alumni arc eligible for reelection. The directors of the Alumni Association, as required by the Association By-Laws and the Polity of the College, have been requested to nominate at least one candidate for each forthcoming vacancy. In addition, nominations may be made by written petition of at least 30 members of the Association, submitted io me at the Alumni Office in Annapolis. All nominations, whether by the directors or by petition, must be in my hands no later than December 1, 1975, in order that the names, biographical sketches, and photographs of the nominees may be published in the January issue of this magazine. Thomas Parran, Jr. Director of Alumni Activities tiny village a day's trip by potato truck and on foot from Cuzco. Kitty says her Greek studies at St. John's have helped as she learns Quechua, the local language. Although beans, potatoes, and local tubers are apparently dietary staples, the natives do raise some animals; Kitty says guinea pigs are quite tasty. 1970 In keeping with the now-established tradition, John Dean has sent us his annual "exotic postcard," this time from Athens: "I'm touring classical Greece and it's c1assical1y wonderfull" By now John has become editor of the largest student newspaper in Europe, Sennet, with a copy-run of 40,000. He is also finishing his Ph.D. thesis at the University of London. 1be morning mail on September 8th brought a fine letter from Jeffrey Friedman, who advises that he and Janet Kasten were married in August 1974 in Dobbs Ferry, N.Y. St. Johnnies present \vere Steve and Nancy (Goldwin) '67 Harvey {and baby Joshua), Harry Sinoff '74, and Marvin Cooper '69. Jeff and Janet are now back in Jerusalem, he studying at the Shapell (formerly Hartman) Center of Jewish Studies, she working for a computer typesetting concern. The Friedmans visited this summer with Kerry Nemovicher, his \-vife Hadassah, and their daughter at their home in Hert7,lia. A nice note from T. K. (Thomas) Nelson conveys year-old but nonetheless welcome news of the births on July 17 and 18, 1974, of twins Lars and Erik. The two dates came about when the big event spanned midnight. T. K and Chris have an older son, Tollof, who started kindergarten this year. Proud grandpa, of course, is Chuck Nelson '45. 1971 Emily Butler (SF) and Nicholas Lyons (SF) were married in June in Watsonville, Cal. Emily graduated Phi Beta Kappa in June 1974 from the University of California at Berkeley, and finished her master's degree in library science in August; she received a departmental av,'flrd as the outstanding student on the Italian department in 1974. Nick has been self-employed as an artist (marquetry) and as a sculptor's apprentice. Elizabeth Peterson writes that she is in law school at Catholic University, and finds that it is lots of fun and lots of work. She recommends that students (or alumni) interested in law school consider C.U.; she believes their St. John's background wiH help them gain admission. Mary "Betsy" Sanders writes that after her year at St. John's she lived in PhoenLx, Ariz., with her then-husband Craig Sanchez. They moved to Toronto, where she studied political science and economics for two years. Having discovered that English is her field, she is now attending TI10mas Jefferson College near Grand Rapids, Mich., finishing up her undergraduate work. Her address is 1217 Bemis, Grand Rapids 49506, and she would love to hear from Cheryl Christie, Cliff Martin, Ron Millen, and Barbara, her roommate. One of our busier medical students is V. Michael Victorofl: is a member of the Task Force on Ethics and Human Values of the American Medical Student Association; during the summer attended a high-level policy meeting on l)reventive Medicine at the National Institutes of Health; in November is scheduled to deliver an address to the Society for Health and Human Values at the Association of Amer- �October, 197 5 ican Medical Colleges Convention in Washington, D.C., the subject: "Who is DeHurnan. izing Whom in Medical Education?" Shelley Depp (Greenwood) Bloomer, (SF) a graduate of Washburn Law School in Topeka, Kan., is in practice with her husband Robert and her father-in-law Cecil in Osborne, Kan. In June Shelley was appointed the first ·woman county attorney in the state of Kansas. The Bloomer's daughter Bethany Gat1 was one year old in August. 1972 Lt. Tlwmas Ascik of the Marines is now stationed at Camp Lejeune, N.C. For the past two years David Carey studied at the Gregorian University in Rome, where this past spring he was awarded the M.A. degree in theology. While overseas he was ordained a deacon and assisted the chaplain of an Air Force base in Germany for several months. Returning to this country, on July 19th David was ordained a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, and is now in his first fulltime parish assignment in Butler, Pa., just north of his home, Pittsburgh. David A. Klein (SF) and his wife are living in Hila, Hawaii, where David is employed as a journeyman diesel engine mechanic. He completed two years at the Los Angeles Trade Technical School and two years of on-the-job training in the same city before moving west. David received his A.S. degree in truck and diesel repair from the Technical School, graduating with top honors in his class. Elizabeth Molnar is now Mrs. H. R. Hinton, and makes her home in Chicago. Deborah Papier, who attended the Alumni Summer Seminar session in Annapolis, has been a recent contributor to the Washington (D.C.) Star. She has had at least one book review and a feature story on operas in the United States. Grant Wiggins and his wife Joanne are teaching at Loomis-Chaffee School in Windsor, Conn. Grant is head of, and teaches in, the philosophy and religion department. Tod Donohue visited with the Wigginses mid-summer on his way to a teaching job in Maine. 1973 Jeff Angus (SF) writes that he completed his baccalaureate work at Antioch College, majoring in -anthropology/environmental planning. He moved to Washington, D.C., where he drove a taxi for two months, and then started work as a legislative researcher for Senator Gaylord Nelson. Jeff finds the work challeitging, exciting, and very rewarding. His address is 1527 North 17th Street #102, Arlington, Va. 22209; he would appreciate hearing from any of the "old gang." Since January 1974 Mary L. Batteen has been a graduate student in physical oceanography at Old Dominion University in Norfolk, Va. She is a research assistant in the Department of Physics and Geophysics, and was re· cently awarded a tuition grant by the director of the Institute of Oceanography. Greg Chilenski has entered the Ph.D. program in social psychology at the State University of New York at Albany, the winner of a 1975 National Science Foundation Graduate Fellowship. Greg is a member of Sigma Khi, The Science Research Society of North America. Miss Barbara Leonard passed along to us some information about Peter Ellison and his wife Priscilla (Lindsay) '72. The Ellisons have completed their undergraduate studies at the University of Vermont, he in biology, she in anthropology. This year "Pippi" is at Brandeis University on a National Institutes of Mental Health Traineeship, while Peter is at Harvard with a University fe1lowship. Both the Ellisons were elected to Phi Beta Kappa, and received the awards as outstanding seniors in their respective departments at Vermont. Another graduate student is Roger Greene, starting his second year of work toward an M.F.A. degree in film at Columbia University. Last year he also did free-lance editorial work, and spent most of the summer teaching filmmaking at a teen camp in the Catskills. Rand Lee wrote last spring to say that he had graduated from Washington Bible College with a B.A. degree in religious education, and hoped to go to work for a Christian publisher in Chicago. Melanie P. Morgan (SF) is currently the assistant manager (manager trainee) for Pier 1 Imports in Columbus, Ohio. She is scheduled for her own store in February, and hopes to be moving west. Lee Perlman was recently appointed executive director of Common Cause in Maryland. A former legislative assistant to Maryland State Delegate Don Rosenshine, Lee was selected from among I 90 applicants. C. Brian Scott is now in his second year at the Northwestern School of Law of Lewis and Clark College. He joined the Jaw review, Environmental Law, in July, and is working with six other students on a project about federal agencies and environmental impact statements. Jennifer Wicke (SF) and Harry Comelit1s (SF) were married on the second of August in Athens, Ohio. Jennifer completed her undergraduate work at the University of Chicago, and is now a graduate student in comparative English at the City University of New York. Harry finished at Bennington College, and is now a second-year philosophy student at Columbia University. 1974 R. Michael and Christine (McNesby) Ben. ton were married in August 1974, and have been living and working in Chicago for the past year. 2nd Lt. Erica F. Chaney, USMCR, is a deputy disbursing officer at the Mar~~e Corps Air Station, El Toro, Cal. She VISited the Annapolis campus during the summer, and is obviously enjoying her .assignment. On Saturday, June 28th, Janet Lee Christhill and Donnel O'Flynn '73 were married in Shadyside, Md. Kelly Fike (SF) writes that he is up to his neck in his last semester of forestry at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff. Gerard (we apologize for "Leonard" in the April issue) Kapolka and Daphne (Greene) '76 have returned from Poland for studies at the University of Chicago. Gerry will be in the Department of Slavic Literature and Languages, Daphne in the Department of History of Science and Medicine. Maria Kayanan is a paralegal assistant in a legal aid office for migrant farm workers in Apopka, Fla. Bonnie Shiprak completed her undergraduate work (B.A. in psychology) at Immaculata College near Philadelphia in May 1974. This past year she did some graduate work at Penn State University's Capitol Campus in Harrisburg while working as a reference librarian in the county library system. In August Bonnie started full-time graduate work in clinical psychology at Northwestern State University, Natchitoches, La., where she also has an assistantship as an undergraduate counselor. Karen Zimmer works at Cornell University as .the assistant curator of the L. H. Bailey Hortorium which specializes in cultivated plants. She also plans to continue her studies in botany. 1975 Gerry Ekman writes from the Navy Officer Candidate School in Newport, R.I., where he started training in July. After commissioning in December he anticipates assignment to Surface Warfare Officer School until next June. In Memoriam 1904-Rev. Daniel R. Magruder, Boston, Mass., August 7, 1975. ~ 1922-John S. Austerlitz, Washington, D.C. / 1923-RAdm. Thomas Burton Klakring, San Diego, Cal., July 25, 1975. •/ 1931-Paul S. Canfield, Wethersfield, Conn., March 12, 1975. ,../1936-G. Gordon Gaeng, Baltimore, Md., July 24, 1975. vf 939-Robert Lee Keyser, Jr., Baltimore, Md., June 24, 1975. v1943-Henry C. Preston, Jr., Dallas, Tex., January 28, 1975. '1961-Parnela (Parker) Pattie, El Centro, Cal, March 1975. �1 I The College St. John's College Annapolis, Marvland 21404 .\ \ Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, l'vlaryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of College Relations Title A name given to the resource The College, October 1975 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-10 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zuckerman, Elliott Description An account of the resource Volume XXVII, Number 3 of The College. Published in October 1975. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_27_No_3_1975 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/4098e2ef8ff943bfe4b15e93d433aa35.pdf 9dfa5d5cbe207fa52ccc494829b65e5b PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico January 1976 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVII January, 1976 Number 4 ON THE COVER: "Here," says Mr. Simpson (see lead article) "is Newton's front door. It would be tempting to· say that this was the door to the modern world. But I think it was not. It was the door to a world that never was-a world Newton envisioned, in which mathematical physics would be the center of philosophy and theology, a vehicle of intellectual insight into purpose, design, and history." Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen This is the quadrangle of Trinity College, Newton's college at Cambridge. Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Elliott Zuckerman. THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Vice President. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. NOTICE TO ALL ALUMNI: A ballot for the election of two alumni representatives to the Board of Visitors and Governors is on the inside back cover, together with brief biographies of .the nominees. Please take advantage of the privilege of electing your representatives on the College's governing body. VOTE NOW. T. P. Jr. IN THE JANUARY ISSUE: Newton and the Liberal Arts, by Thomas K. Simpson. I 12 Graduate Institute Commencement Address, 1975, by Eva Brann 19 Campus/Alumni News Picture credits: Cover and inside front cover, Eric Simpson; pages 23 and 25, Wlill Simmons. Aristotle's Definition of Motion, by Joe Sachs. 22 Alumni Election, Board of Visitors and Governors. Inside Back Cover �Newton And the Liberal Arts by Thomas K. Simpson INTRODUCTION I suspect that the fundamental political problem of our time is "science," with its counterpart, technology. What we call "science" is no longer an organic part of a single enterprise of human learning, but an autonomous process, of mind and practice, which yields results essentially outside the scope of human understanding. That it works in the laboratory constitutes its title to truth, but we are becoming, I think, acutely aware that we have let both science and technology work upon us, not for us, both intellectually and politically. We sense that we have no longer any way to make science part of a larger body of philosophy, nor technology part of a governed political order. The pervasive technology of our structures of production, distribution, and finance have made of our political Republic a mere shadow of a technological order over which we can hardly pretend to exert political control. This is tyranny at all levels-tyranny without a tyrantand because it is so pervasive and so nearly invisible, masquerading in all the guises of progress and expertise, far more dangerous than the relatively apparent and limited outrages of George III. Therefore political responsibility requires that we reexamine the foundations of our understanding of this thing in our midst we call "science," and search more keenly for the real outlines of technology, and its relations to our apparent polity. But this kind of critical search for foundations is exactly the work of the TI1is lecture, given at the Annapolis Homecoming on October 24, 1975, is part of a larger report on science and the liberal arts which Mr. Simpson is preparing as a member of the Committee on the Liberal Arts, a group at present consisting of five tutors on the Santa Fe campus meeting to re-open discussion of the foundations of the St. John's program. 1l1is work is funded through the generosity of the National Endowment for the Humanities. liberal arts as we understand them at St. John's. So in this sense, I hope that this lecture on "Newton and the Liberal Arts" might be regarded as a modest contribution to our college's participation in the national bicentennial reconsideration. Before I turn to Newton, I would like to say a few words about the Class of 1950, which is celebrating its quarter-century reunion this weekend. This class has a special relation to the problem of science and technology of which I have been speaking. Most of the members of that class came, as freshmen, in 1946, directly from some aspect of an encounter with the Second World War. To perpetuate what may be a myth, I think the average age of that freshman class was computed by Miss Strange to be 26. The world was still ringing with the reverberations of Hiroshima and Nagasaki when we picked up Homer for the first time. It was clear that this nation, and the world, had entered upon an era in which science, tech~ nology, and the polity were to be wedded in a new way. I suspect that many of us came to the College in the hope that whatever the "liberal arts" proved to be, they might in some way show how this marriage of science and the polity could be blessed for the benefit of mankind. To speak personally, I at least arrived that fall directly from the horrors of a Washington war laboratory, turning from the practice of modern technology to the liberal arts in the hope that they could shed some light on the plight of the world polity. The first reading was the Iliad, and the lights have been confused and doubtful ever since. In the quarter-century since this Class of 1950 graduated, things have moved acutely from bad to worse for the new technological Republic. Reflecting on this curious chronologv of centuries and their fractions, I find it striking that our little time of 0.25 century bears such a considerable ratio to the age of the Republic itself, which at 1 �The College its bicentennial mark is only eight times as old as this class. Incidentally, St. John's, in its manifestation as a college, is about as old as the new Republic, which it was chartered to serve: though the numbers are not right, it is a little as though our class were the second-hand of a master-clock, whose minute-hand kept the time, at once of the Republic and of our College. The hour-hand behind these two brief chronologies I suggest measures the development of modern science, which we might date from Euclid or Ptolemy; but a great mark on this long, slow dial was the publication of Newton's Principia. I have tried to establish what Newton was doing just three hundred years ago, in order that we might have a tricentennial of modern science to go with the bicentennial of the Republic and the quarter-century of this class, but all I have found is that this seems to be the tricentennial of the occasion on which some of Isaac Newton's friends got together to pay his back dues to the Royal Society, so that he could continue to deliver his papers on natural philosophy. Perhaps that is an occasion suffiently full of consequences for the modern world to be worth commemorating, so that we have tonight the quarter-century reunion of the St. John's Class of 1950, the threshold of the bicentennial of our Republic, and the tricentennial of the payment of Isaac Newton's back dues to the Royal Society by his friends. They are, I suggest, all related. For our Republic was designed in the image of Isaac Newton's vision of the System of the World, set forth in the Third Book of his Principia. Hobbes had taught man to regard the state as an artifice to rescue himself from war and his own nature, but it was Newton who showed how exactly-counterworking forces could be composed to form a harmonious and lasting system-and this composition of forces in the system of the planets about the sun was the ultimate paradigm for the authors of our Constitution as they attempted to solve the three-body problem of the legislative, the executive, and the judicial powers. Newton, then, showed how the cosmos might be grasped by the mind as a purposeful system, an intelligent design; the authors of our Constitution showed the world in turn h01~ man could make this insight, out of mathematical physics, serve him in the design of a balanced and rational polity; and now we are seeing, in this short period since the Second World War, how the specter of science and technology, having escaped from human compre2 hension or control in a terrible autonomy, threatens our designs and our world with destruction. It seems to me, then, that the clock of modern science is the critical measure of our Republic. And I propose tonight to refer back to Newton's Principia, the founding document-in a sense, the Constitution-of modern science, in order to attempt to recover something of Newton's sense of mathematical physics, not as an autonomous endeavor, but as an instrument of philosophy and a means by which man might better understand himself and achieve his true purpose. Fundamentally, I think this comes to a question of Newton's understanding of his enterprise in relation to the tradition of the liberal arts. DISCUSSION OF NEWTON'S "PREFACE TO THE READER" On the whole, Newton writes with a certain grammatical and rhetorical precision which rewards careful reading. We might note that his standards, or rules, for his own writing may be understood as the inverse of the rules (regulae) he formulates for the interpretation of a text: everywhere the arts of the Trivium have these two faces-as arts of composition, of the making of discourse, they are guides to speaking or writing; as arts of interpretation, they are guides to listening or reading. For Plato and Aristotle, they were primarily arts of making; with St. Augustine and the Christian rhetoricians, a transformation takes place by which-in the face of a sacred text -the art of interpretation necessarily takes first place, and becomes greatly and subtly elaborated. Newton-in this Christian tradition-is faced first of all with problems of interpretation. For him, human learning is a question of the interpretation of two great texts: sacred scripture,* and the phenomena of the physical world. Reading of the first takes us to moral law and theological truth; reading of the second takes us to the laws of nature, and constitutes philosophy ... but the two reflect deeply on each other. Newton wrote a considerable number of works which were left unfinished or unpublished. At the be*Those who remember David CastiHejo as a tutor on the Annapolis campus during the years 1962-1963 will be interested to know that it is he who, in the course of extensive work on Isaac Newton, inventoried the great quantity of Newton's theological manuscripts in the Jewish National and University Library in Jerusalem. A recent book, The Religion of Isaac Newton by Frank E. Manuel (Oxford, 1974). is to a large extent based on these materials. �January, 1976 ginning of one of them, on the interpretation of prophecy, he set out what he called "rules of interpretation," regulae interpretandi; and at the outset of the Third Book of the Principia, the System of the World, he set out another set of rules, the "rules of reasoning in philosophy," regulae philosophandi. But the two sets of rules run parallel to one another, and it is clear that they are both, finally, rules of interpretation-rules for finding the meaning of texts. And these rules of interpretation interweave closely with rules of composition; the Principia is at once a careful and exact composition on Newton's part, and the outcome of a new interpretation of nature: it is a composition which formulates a new method of interpretation, and hence, a new instrument of philosophy. It is in this sense Newton's intention to make a dramatic con~ tribution to the liberal arts. He designs the Principia to achieve a turning~point, a crisis, in the liberal arts, and in its propositions the arts of the past and the arts of the future are suspended in extreme tension. In the "Preface to the Reader" which he wrote for the First Edition of the Principia, Newton gave a very tight account of this revolution in the liberal arts which he intends to launch upon the world. The first sentence already carefully, if very schematically, locates the Principia in the history of natural philosophy. He first characterizes the ancient investigation of nature as culminating in a certain understanding of "mechanics" -he means most of all the mathematics of Archimedes. He then alludes in a phrase to a long middle period in which the Trivium displaced the Quadrivium-mathematics was set aside and other terms of analysis were substituted, "substantial forms" and "occult qualities," he says. The third, modern period, he sees as a restoration-literally, a recalling-of natural philosophy to mathematics, in the new guise of what he calls mathematical laws. This history-the whole intellectual history of western man in relation to the study of nature-has been set out in an initial dependent clause: it is the whereas clause of Newton's own Proclamation. Let us try tr"nslating it that way: WHEREAS the ancients most of all prized mechanics in the investigation of nature . . . and those of more recent times, having discarded substantial forms "nd occult qualities, have undertaken to recall the phenomena of nature to m"thematicallaws, IT IS PROPOSED in this treatise to cultivate mathesis insofar as it looks to philosophy. This is the very form of a decl"ration, a new Constitution. Others, Newton says, have gone far: but they have failed to achieve the union of mathesis and philosophy, and it is this which the new Principia-namely, the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy, Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica-will teach mankind to do. The first word in the Latin title is philosophy. Newton uses the Greek term mathesis in his declaration, to suggest the scope of the enterprise: be means demonstrative argument in a new sense, and in a new ap- plication. Though he embraces Euclid and Archimedes as teachers, we shall see that he boldly extends the bounds of their geometry to become something he will call universal mechanics; and though his argument in the Principia will be demonstrative, his intention is to transform it from a mode of formulating what is known into an instrument of inquiry, and by its use to transform the nature both of mathematics and of philosophical investigation-in effect, to make an extended geometry the instrument of dialectic. The "opening question" of the Principia, then, is this puzzle: "How can mathesis bear upon (or 'look to') philosophy?" In contemporary terms, we might tentatively put it this way: "How can philosophy find its principles in, or through, mathematical physics?" In the terms of my opening remarks, perhaps: "How can man gain control over the autonomous mathematical sciences: how can they be brought into the circle of philosophy-of understanding "nd purpose?" We have failed to learn how mathematics can look to philosophy. Having given this epitome of the problem he has set for himself and the world, Newton now takes some time to consider wh"t the extended mathesis of the Principia will be. To achieve it, Newton must first bring "bout a revolution within mathematics itself. Thinking in terms of the traditioml liberal arts, we might say that Newton, in order to bring the quadrivium into effective relation with the trivium-to get mathesis to serve philosophymust first perform a revolution within the quadrivium itself. The crucial term at this point is "mechanics." The ancients, even when they brought the full power of their mathematics to bear upon mechanics, thought of mechanics under the paradigm which Homer gave them and 3 �The College us when he called Odysseus polymechanos: a man of many "devices." Mechanics, Newton says, was for the ancients the realm of human contrivances, and hence, in terms of powers, a realm of human forces. When Archimedes, as the ultimate mathematical Odysseus, proposes to use the lever to move the world, the lever is a machine -one of the five classic umachines" (the lever, the screw, the inclined plane, the wheel, the pulley)-but the force upon it is always the hand of man. For Newton, this is both a fundamental insight, and a limited one-funda· mental in that it shows how forces may work, limited in that the forces arc supposed those of man. He distin· guishes his own view dialectically in this way: This part of mechanics was cultivated by the ancients, ·with an eye to manual arts, in terms of the five powers, and they considered gravitysince it is not a manual power-hardly otherwise than in respeot to moving heavy bodies by those powers. We, however-consulting not arts but philosophy, and hence writing not of manual but natural powers-treat most of all of those which look to gravity, levity, elastic force, the resistance of fluids, and forces of this kind ... Mechanics, then, had been seen as belonging to human arts and the realm of human praxis, the lower realms of Plato's divided line. Newton proposes to transform it to much higher philosophical status, by recognizing in nature-tha•t is, in a truth which is not of man's contriving - uforces" or powers which we can understand by a sweeping analogy to those human arts and powers of Odysseus and Archimedes. For Newton, nature imitates art, in the sense that we move from the classical mechanics of human machines to a new, philosophical mechanics of natural powers, in which nature is the artificer. VIe see, then, the promise of a philosophical mechanics. To relate this to the classical quadrivium of arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy, however, we must back up to look at a section of Newton's Preface which I have thus far skipped over. Newton makes the following claim: Geometry is founded therefore m mechanical 4 praxis, and it is nothing other than that part of universal mechanics which exactly proposes and demonstrates the art of measuring. Here Newton is entering into discussion with Euclid, and arguing that what Euclid takes for granted-demands, or "postulates," that is, asks the beginner in his art to grant-in fact derives from another science: namely, the description, the scribing-out, of the circle and the straight line. For Newton, this small distinction is not a quibble, but a fundamental clue. These two operations upon which geometry must be built he calls praxis, again perhaps going back to the Greek term in order to open the concept anew. Praxis, from the verb prattein, to do, means a making or doing, but this geometrical scribing is not the kind of "doing" which belongs to the artificers at the bottom scotian of the divided line. It must be a making which is higher in the intellectual hierarchy than geometry itself-that is, it must be as clear to the mind as the propositions of Euclid and prior in understanding: for if it were not, geometry would be founded on an obscure insight. Newton is thus proposing that there is a praxis which is a higher matiJesis, and that by confusing this with ordinary mechanics, the ancients overlooked the fundamental possibility of a true mathematics of motion. He says: However, the errors are not of the art, but of· the artisan. Whoever works less accurately, is a less perfect mechanic, and if anyone were able to work most accurately, he would be the most perfect mechanic of all (mechanicus omnium perfectissimus). Therefore, mechanics should be cleared of this confusion, and we should now recognize, above geometry in the hierarchy of arts, a new member of the erstwhile quadrivium: universal mechanics. Within this new structuring of the quadrivium, motion is primary; the mechanics of powers or forces is one branch, ·while pure geometry, devoid of the concept of force, is another. Thus Newton says that \vhat is commonly called Hgeometry" is in fact just that part of universal mechanics which deals vJith the art of measuring. We might say that universal mechanics is the "real geometry," of which Euclid's is one, limited, aspect. The other part Newton goes on to term �January, 1976 rational mechanics-perhaps we should translate this phrase as "intellectual mechanics" to make clear that it is a mechanics which is altogether an object of tbe mind -and this is the part concerning powers, or forces, which Newton takes from Archimedes and which we discussed first: Newton defines his rational mechanics in this way: In which sense rational mechanics will be the science of motions which result from any forces whatever, and of the forces which are required for any motion whatever, exactly enunciated and demonstrated. Here, in this brief definition, we see the link forged between the new mathesis and philosophy. Essentially, I believe Newton agrees with Aristotle in his understand· ing of natural philosophy: the object of natural philosophy is motion-those motions which occur in the natural world, regularly and without man's assistance-and the object of the natural philosopher is to assign the true causes of those motions. The primary difficulty is to grasp the concept uf motion; the next is to come to an agree~ ment about "cause." Aristotle defines motion in terms of a dual mode of predication: to be potentially, and to be actually. Aristotle thus grasps motion through a grammatical distinction, through the instrumentahty of the Trivium. Newton, by contrast, proposes that motion is rightly grasped as a primary mathematical object, and hence claims it for the Quadrivium. Aristotle distinguishes four aspects of the question of cause: the in which, the by which, the what, and the for-the-sake-of-which . . . again, making crucial use of grammatical structures. And again, Newton shifts that question from the workshop of the Trivium to the realm of mathesis, by locating the question of cause in that one collcept, Latin vis, power or force, and claiming that the relation of motion to its cause-that is, motion to force-is a problem for exact enunciation and demonstration. Perhaps we should pause to make clearer the relation between this outline of purpose in the Preface, and the actual structure of the Principia. The Principia is organized in three books. The first two contain the body of basic propositions which constitute what Newton calls the "mathematical principles of natural philosophy" -strictly, these two books are the "Principia," the principles. The third book is appended to the work as an illustration: where the first books, as the books of the new mathesis, look to their application in philosophy, the third book is an example of that new philosophy itself. The first two books are books of mathematics; the Third book is a book of phHosophy. As such, this third book is the first sample, the first step toward what is ultimately, I think, intended by Newton to be the real replacement for Aristotle's Physics in its full range. This "sample" deals with only one of those natural forces Newton has alluded to, namely gravity, and thus deals with the world only in its aspect as a gravitational system. It conspicuously does not, for example, deal with the optical system of the world, nor with those other alchemical or chemical forces which are in his program the causes of the vital motions of nature. We should observe right away that physics no more denotes to Newton than it does to Aristotle that "inorganic" realm which we now call physics, and distinguish from biology and physiology. When I spoke, as I did earlier, of Newton's work as "mathematical physics," I was technically correot but misleading. Newton clearly intends a mathematics of all natural things, including especially those which live and grow. Rational mechanics is the mathematics of <{>va«. The Principia sets forth the mathesis of all nahne; the gravitational system unfolded in the Third Book is a brilliant, but relatively easy, first step in the new philosophy, an exemplar by which Newton intends to endow the world with its new illumination, its new uni- versal method in philosophy. We have seen then that Newton proposes to bring the investigation of physics into intimate relation with a transformed version of the arts of mathematics. We have seen the aim, but not a method by which it might be brought about ... and here it is that Newton learns fundamentally from Descartes. Already we see it in the symmetry of his definition of rational mechanics, which we have quoted: ... the science of the motions which result from any forces ... and of the forces which are required for any motion ... If forces are causes, we see that the science of mechanics will proceed by two great modes of argument: from forces to motions, i.e., from causes to effects; and from motions to forces, i.e., from effects to causes. Both are to be con~ ducted bv means of mathematical demonstration. Newton 5 �The College now goes on to formulate this plan in a larger way: Every difficulty of philosophy is seen to turn upon this: as from the phenomena of motion we investiga-te the forces of nature, so thereafter from these forces we demonstrate the remaining phenomena. When we see that the motions are the phenomena with which nature presents us, and that the passage from the motions to the forces is the intellectual progress from the effects to their causes, we recognize that Newton is referring here to that progression from phenomenon to cause which Aristotle calls analysis-that is, .the direction of inquiry in physics. The reversed process, the passage from the causes, now known, to their consequences, is the direct motion of philosophical argument, the building of a system of consequences from a few first principles which are themselves best known, and this is synthesis. What Newton is proposing is that these two motions in philosophy-the order of inquiry, and the order of knowing-can both be carried out by demonstration, in the new mathesis. Now analysis and synthesis, which Aristotle in the Organon sets forth as the two phases of the work of the philosopher, have always been known to have their counterparts in mathematics. To begin with a few things well known, and to demonstrate their consequences at great length, is exactly what Euclid does, and hence we call his book of Elements. a work of synthesis. The construction of the five regular solids will always stand as the clearest model of the mind's building in direct, synthetic argument. On the other hand, there are some occasions when the ancient geometers proceed the other way: they start with the unknown and reason toward the known. How can that be done? The formula is, in effect, "Assume the thing done" -that is, take the unknown as known. In the case, for example, of a geometrical construction which is sought, suppose the figure to have been constructed; then, on -this assumption, reason to those necessary conse~ quenees which would follow-reason in the subjunctive mode-until you come to a consequence which you know in fact is true. From this terra firma, if the steps of the argument can all be reversed, the analysis can be turned into a synthesis by going through the argument backwards 6 until the unknown is arrived at, but this time as a necessary consequence of what is known to be true. All this is familiar from the ancients, though they use analysis very seldom, and on the whole, the classic geometers leave no trace of their method of inquiry-that is, any method by which they discovered their propositions. Descartes proposed to recover that ancient art of discovery, but in a new and more powerful form, which he revealed as a refinement of algebra: a universal art of reasoning from the unknown to the known. His Discourse on Method sets forth the new universal analysis in the guise of the method of "doubt." In its application to geometry he calls it analytic geometry. Now the idea of a systematic mathematical analysis, by which to move by precise argument from the unknown to the known, is the very methodological backbone of Newton's Principia. In this, Newton is deeply a disciple of Descartes. But what Newton gives us is not an algebraic analysis, but a geometric analysis, and this represents a major and deliberate turning away from Descartes. Newton is a master of algebra, and uses it whenever he must; he was responsible for major developments in the theory of equations and the use of infinite series. He knows well that algebra opens vast new powers in mathema·tics. But he knows too that those symbols, letters representing the unknown, or representing nothing, reduce science to an obscurity, and move by way of automatic processes which bring no light to the mind. Therefore there is a minimum of algebra in the Principia, and a maximum of appeal to the eye of the mind through the artful use of the imagination. This battle of the arts-from Newton's point of view, the battle against the new, illiberal arts of algebra, and his effort to reinstate the geometry of the ancients, but now as a vehicle of powerful and precise analysis as well as synthesis-is at the very center of Newton's purposes. Newton agrees with Descartes that the world is a mathematical object, to be solved by the methods of mathematical analysis. To this extent, both concur that philosophy is to be transformed by adopting mathematical analysis as the method of inquiry. But for Descartes, this means that nature is a simple object. "Matter is extension," he says. Essentially I think Descartes means by the term "extension" that magnitude (megethos) which is the object of Book V of Euclid's Elements. And that extension-in-motion constitutes all there is in the natural world. �January, 1976 :p p '<: Figure 1 '\ '' D '-'-------~e D Figure 3 Figure 2 '' '' '' "' '' U--------=~-'l>-----" Hence in determining those configurations and changes of motion which constitute all the real events of nature, algebraic symbols are wholly adequate and appropriate. For Descartes, there are no powers and no agents in nature, no causes, beyond ·the interchange of motion from configuration to configuration. The world, for Descartes, is a plenum of this extension-in-motion, and hence is strictly a machine. The right image for the mechanical philosophy in this strict sense is a clockwork, motion engaging motion with no gaps. For Newton, such a vision of a mechanical philosophy is anathema. Indeed, a major part of the Principia is devoted to insistent dialectical refutation of the mechanical philosophy of Descartes and of the corresponding mechanical theory of light of Huygens. Instead, for Newton, nature is a true object of nous, full of intelligible causes and evidences of purpose and. plan, which it is of the high. est importance to comprehend. This is the philosophic vision which Newton's geometrical and mechanical analysis is shaped •to make possible by showing the mind the way to true causes, both material and spiritual. Ultimately, the real model for that mathematical analysis which Newton has in mind is the Christian rhetoric of interpretation taught by such masters as Augustine, by which the creation is to be read as our evidence of the presence and work of the Creator. Any such reading, which entails a transforming passage from flesh to spirit, requires art and sensitivity, and does not proceed by smooth stages, but by a series of crises in the construction and interpretation of signs. It is Newton's discovery that even such a spiritual interpretation of the creation must be carried out by mathematical analysis, but by such an analysis as will point the way to design and true cause. The mathematical principles of the Principia, the new mathesis compounded of motion, force, and geometry, are carefully shaped to just that end-the diagrams are intelligible signs, contrived to point to realities and ·true causes which lie behind the appearances: an analytic mathesis-a mathematical rhetoric-then, to solve philosophical problems. 8 b o ' ' The cosmos is a mathematical problem whose solution is, ultimately, God. This is the analysis which the Third Book of the Principia illustrates in its revelation of the operation of universal gravitation throughout the frame of nature: every body in the cosmos attracts every other body by a force of a single genus called "gravity," ruled by an exact but purposeful mathematical law. Without high art and special method, the intellect unaided could never have uncovered such a mystery. It is a dramatic peripety, a breakthrough, in man's understanding of the divine plan: and as a first step in a new era of natural philosophy, a sure sign for Newton that time is running out and man is drawing closer to his God. It has, as Newton's account of the System of the World unfolds, many corollaries concerning history and God's plan for the world. COMMENTS ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS* 1. RrGHTTRIANGLE These illustrations will be relatively simple; I hope they will help to make clearer, however, how Newton trans-· forms geometry into his new mathesis, and how he intends this new mathematics to become a true philosophical instrument. Figure I is of an ordinary Newtonian right triangle. Because it is a Newtonian triangle, however, it differs in a fundamental way from a Euclidean triangle: it exists in mathematical time and space. There is no "space" in Euclid: each of Euclid's figures simply exists, and enjoys whatever relations it may have to other figures in the same construction. But for Newton, the priority of mechanics over geometry entails the priority of what he calls Habsolute" -time and space. Even as it sits here, this triangle has what Newton calls "duration," and it will be meaningful, for example, to let the base DB begin to grow in length by setting point B in motion with uniform velocity toward the right. *At this point in the lecture Mr. Simpson made use of a series of illustrative slides; eleven are reproduGed here. 7 �The College 2. RIGHT TRIANGLE: FIRST STAGE OF MoTION The motion has begun (figure 2). Some interval of time has elapsed, and point B has moved to a new position, marked b, somewhat to the right. When the point b was at its original position, the motion was just beginning: Newton says that it was NASCENT, i.e., "just being born" -Newton uses the Latin verb which gives us the word nature. As a consequence of the uniform growth of the base DB, the hypotenuse is of course growing as well. Newton calls both DB and PB FLUENT quantities. The characteristic question for this new geometryEuclid's Elements set in motion-is, "What is the rate of growth of PB?'' If DB grows at a uniform rate, its length represents or measures time-it is a clock-and the rate of growth of PB can be measured by comparing an increment of PB to a corresponding increment of DB. 3. RIGHT TRIANGLE: SECOND STAGE OF MoTION Figure 3 simply shows the motion still further advanced. You can see now that the rate of growth of the hypotenuse will not be constant, but PB will be growing faster as DB lengthens. Therefore to be exact, we must specify its rate of growth at some particular moment. Just to give you an idea of the kind of theorem Newton enunciates in this new sequel to Euclid, this particular diagram illustrates the proposition that "the rate of growth of the hypotenuse PB at any position of B, is given by the ratio of DB to PB." Newton terms this rate of growth at a definite moment the FLUXION of the quantity in question, and calls his new geometry of motion the science of FLUXIONS. This theorem thus determines the FLUXION of the hypotenuse. Of course, we have not proved the theorem. 4. RIGHT TRIANGLE: CoNSTRUCTION To DETERMINE THE FLUXION Without actually undertaking to give a proper proof of Newton's theorem, I would like to suggest how he approaches the evaluation of a fluxion. The crucial problem is to compare the increments of two quantities with one another. In this case, we want to compare the increments of the hypotenuse PB and the base DB (figure 4). The little shaded triangle drawn in the lower-right-hand corner of this diagram relates those two increments. In the shaded triangle, cb is the increment of the hypotenuse; Bb is the increment of the base. Therefore, to get the 8 fluxion of the hypotenuse, we want the ratio of cb to Bb. However, we want that ratio at the very beginning of the motion, when the hypotenuse PB is in its dotted position. To approach the precise FLUXION at that instant, we can now think of the motion as reversed, and let the increment Bb shrink back to zero; this will be what Newton calls the EVANESCENT motion, the motion of vanishing, the mirror image of the NASCENT motion. The required FLUXION will be the ratio of the two quantities cb and Bb to one another just as they are vanishingtheir ratio as they disappear. Newton's method of following the behavior of these two disappearing magnitudes is, I think, characteristic of the rhetoric of his arguments. For he finds a way to keep these quantities visible to the eye, and to the eye of the mind, even as they vanish. He shows that the little shaded triangle is similar to the whole triangle PDb -I have redrawn the little triangle right-side-up off to the side so that you can see that similarity. Then as Bb and the little triangle utterly vanish, the large triangle PDb will always make the shape of the vanishing triangle manifest to us. And finally, at the point of vanishing, the shape of the disappearing triangle is seen to be nothing but the very shape of the original triangle PDB. And the FLUXION, namely the ultimate ratio of cb:Bb with which those quantities vanish, is the same as the ratio of the base to the hypotenuse of the original triangle. And that is the theorem. Here, then, is the foundation of an entire new geom~try of moving, growing, and shrinking figures. It is, for the first time, a geometry truly adequate to deal with nature, the realm of motions. The new status given to an idea of mathematical time has of course implications beyond geometry. All existence will now be in time, and will have duration. Events will be in history, each at a moment of time placed somewhere between the creation and the end of the world. 5. FLUXION OF A CURVILINEAR SEGMENT (LEMMA VII) Most of the natural processes in which Newton will be interested involve motions in curved lines. In figure 5 point B is moving along the arc BCA toward A. What can the science of FLUXIONS say about it? To establish a ratio which will be of value in the study of motion along curves, Newton draws the chord of that arc, AB, and then asks the ratio of the length of the arc ACB to that of its �January, 1976 I" D A ' '\ A '\ Be. I:.~ 6. ---;7 / // 'B B '\ c~6 "\ '\ '\ ftl~re 1 4 / ~ R o' A / PDb r/ I Figure 5 Figure 6 / / I v > / Figure 7 ~ chord AB. 6. CuRVILINEAR SEGMENT ( 2) To get a further ratio, another measure of the same motion, Newton now draws the line RD in any arbitrary direction, so that it cuts off a definite length along the tangent drawn to the arc at A. And he asks the ratio of the arc length ACB to the length of this tangent, AD. We now have to watch these ratios as B moves toward A. 7, CuRVILINEAR SEGMENT ( 3 ) As B moves to B' (figure 6), and the arc shortens, the line R'D' is always drawn parallel to its original position, so that a definite rule is established for cutting off the length along the tangent. We are now watching the EVANESCENT motion to ·get two FLUXIONS: the ratio of the arc to its chord, and the ratio of the arc to its tangent. The FLUXIONS in question will be ultimate ratios as B' actually reaches A, and all the quantities we are comparing vanish. Again, Newton will use a rhetorical device to make those vanishing ratios visible to us. 8. CURVILINEAR SEGMENT PosrTION I Figure 8 (4)-MICROSCOPE, FIRST Returning to the first position of the arc, chord, and tangent (figure 7), Newton now sets up his microscopean enlarged figure, drawn here in light lines, which is similar to the one in which we are interested, that is, the heavy and the light figures have exactly the same shape. Here the ratio of the base of the light figure to I '/ " Figure 9 that of the heavy figure is just 2:1, as if the figure had been enlarged in a photographic enlarger-or by means of a slide projector. 9. CuRVILINEAR SEGMENT (5)-MICRoscoPE, SEcoND PosrTION In figure 8, B has now once again moved toward A, to its new position B'. We increase the power of the enlarger, so that the light figure preserves a constant size; the base seems to have been enlarged in the ratio about 4: l. The arc Ac'b' is again of exactly the same shape as the original AB'. And the ratios of arc to tangent, and of arc to chord, are exactly the same in both the heavy ·• figure and the light one. This will be true however small the heavy figure becomes-we will simply enlarge it with greater magnification, to keep its light image at constant size. 10. CURVILINEAR SEGMENT (6)-MICROSCOPE, THIRD PosiTION Arc AB' is now very small-approaching zero: it is vanishing, EVANESCENT (figure 9). Still the shapes and relative sizes of arc, chord, and tangent are precisely exhibited to the eye in their enlarged counterparts, the power of the rhetorical microscope having been increased to keep the original size of the light figure, though with the new shape of the heavy one. Since there is no limit to the available power of this mathematical microscope, you can clearly see the theorem Newton is here demonstrating: as the arc AB, its chord and its tangent vanish 9 �The College like the Cheshire cat, their magnified images will be preserved, and will all come to coincide with one anotherthat is, the arc Ac'b', its chord Ab', and the tangent Ad' must all ultimately coalesce as the arc AB' vanishes. The question of FLUXIONS is answered: the ultimate ratio of the EVANESCENT arc to its chord is that of equality, and so is the ratio ofthearc to its tangent. This amazing fact makes it mathematically possible for Newton everywhere in the Principia freely to substitute chord or tangent for the corresponding arc in all nascent and evanescent motions. Curvilinear geometry is thus universally reduced to rectilinear in the geometry of fluxions, and a huge advance is already made in bringing geometry to bear on physis. 11. TnELAwOFAREAS (1) The propositions which we have just looked at are instances of the Newtonian geometry, but not of the new rational mechanics. Here is an illustration from the new mathesis, a first step in a mechanics which analyzes phenomena to find their causes. Proposition I of the Principia demonstrates tha;t whenever a body is drawn by a force which is always directed to a fixed point, it will move in such a way that its radius sweeps out equal areas in equal times. In figure 10, a body is shown moving on an elliptical path, but always drawn by a force directed to the point S. The body moves in equal increments of time from position A to 1 to 2 to 3 to 4. The proposition says that the shaded area swept out by the radius from S tb the body grows by equal increments in those equal times. (If the body is our Earth, and S the Sun, then the diagram shows the positions of Earth for four successive months.) 12. THE LAW OF AREAS (2) Figure ll shows the same motion in another way-we see here the motion for two equal periods of time, the second month and the fourth month. According to Proposition I, the two shaded areas are equal. Now, how does this proposition become an analytic instrument, a means of penetrating the phenomena to discover causes? Firs.t, its converse is proved, in Newton's Proposition II: that is, if a body sweeps out equal areas in equal times about some point, then a force acts on it always toward that center. We have only to search the phenomena of nature for evidence of this relationship, 10 in order to discover the existence of centers of force. This becomes a geometrical sign to lead us to centers of force. But forces are causes. Hence this sign becomes part of the mathematical rhetoric of the interpretation of the world to find its causes. It is an instrument of the rhetoric, of invention, that is, of the discovery of hidden things. Newton calls obedience to the law of areas an INDEXa pointer-toward a center of force. TOWARD A CONCLUSION You might well wonder what conclusion I propose to draw from all this-and in particular, in what way I imagine Newton can help us to understand our contemporary intellectual or political problems. I would like to offer one or two suggestions, very briefly. I suspect the beginning of all our troubles with science and with technology~that is, with this syndrome of difficulties, intellectual and political-is the pretended autonomy of science: namely, the claim that it can arrive at truths, or valid judgments, apart from human truth in geneml: that mathematical science can or must be a separate realm of human inquiry. And I think this is one way to look at the dialectical issue Newton is drawing in the Principia between himself and Descartes. Newton intended a science which was mathematical and strictly disciplined, but not autonomous: essentially, he intended science to remain dialectical. It is just this pretension to autonomy which he denies in his refusal of algebra, a.nd his refutation of mechanism. What he reveals in the Principia, instead, is a geometrical analysis appropriate to dialectical inquiry, and the vision of a world which is a system, in which mind and purpose are at home. For Newton, mathematical law is an evidence, not of binding necessity, but of intelligence and design. Newton rejects what we call upure science," and which he called "naked speculation." And I think he is right. "Pure" science is not knowledge. And ungoverned tech~ nology, its counterpart, is not a boon. One does not have to accept their theology in order to agree with Milton and Newton that there is some sense in which separation is Hell: the world Newton wrote the Principia to avoid is the very one we have landed in-and it is also the one Milton depicted in those splendors of the Satanic building in Hell. The beginning of a way out, if there is one, would be that pa.th to which St. John's College is dedicated: the restoration of critical, free dialogue: dialogue �January, l I 1976 //i~··. I I ~·.-.· ~. ·. ·.·>·.'.·.·.-·.i..q .. ,__ - - -__ ~ 0 ...·.•.· J I \\··.·.·.<.·. .•. . .· •·.·.·•·.·.·. . .···.·$_/· . ·.·.· .. <~ l A Figure 11 Figure 10 which goes to the very roots of our unilluminated assumptions about science and politics-two areas which I am convinced are for us deeply, perhaps tragically, related. Our Republic can be preserved only by being understood-from the ground up, so to speak-in relation to the new forces which now press upon it. It falls to us to pick up the founding dialectic and to work t11rough it again-for the task is ours, now-but with the new realities of science and technology in the very center of the discussion. The new Republic will be-indeed, inexorably already is-a scientifically founded, technologically integrated society. We need all the wisdom and strength of the myths of our tradition, but we must not let them be corrupted into illusions. And the renewed founding discussion will have many new paDticipants in it-many of whom have learned deeply from Newton, many of whom have followed him or defied him in constructing the edifice of modern science-I mean authors such as Kant and Hegel; Marx and Lenin; Maxwell, Einstein, Keynes, Schroe- dinger. All of these voices, and a great many more, must be part of the perpetua•l founding discussion of our Republic. You might well feel that I am now merely uttering a familiar platitude-"the St. John's Program is the true founding discussion of our Republic." I do believe that is .the case, but that it is really no platitude, and the fact tha-t our discussion is academic in no way means that its outcome is safe. Here at St. John's, as in serious conversation among citizens everywhere, we are re-constituting our Republic, and -to say that the conversation is "serious" is to recognize that it is an open question how the new constitution ought to read-whether indeed it can be a constitution for one "nation" alone, as though nations were politically factorable in a technologically united world. In our Republic at this moment genuinely free discussion of these questions is systematically and activelytechnologically-discouraged. So the work of St. John's and other liberal colleges, where the unity of the human enterprise is a working hypothesis-and a constant object of passionate search-is not to be taken for granted. Our work is philosophical, not political, but it is central to the political process. And, I submit, the reading of Newton's Principia is, in every sense, no small part of that labor. I wish we could follow Newton to a new understanding of mathematics, by which mathematical physics could be humanized, live easily with philosophy, and ultimately be at home in a rationally governed human society. T1wmas K. Simpson, a graduate of the class of 1950 at St. John's, holds an M.A. degree from Wesleyan University and a Ph.D. degree from the Johns Hopkins University. He has been a member of the St. John's faculty since 1955, and joined the Santa Fe faculty in 1973. 11 �The College Aristotle's Definition of Motion by Joe Sachs Aristotle defines motion, by which he means change of any kind, as the actnality of a potentiality as such (or as movable, or as a potentiality-Physics 20la 10-11, 27-29, b4-5.) The definition is a conjunction of two terms which normally contradict each other, along with, in Greek, a qualifying clause which seems to make the contradiction inescapable. Yet St. Thomas Aquinas called it the only possible way to define motion by what is prior to and better known than motion. At the opposite extreme is the young Descartes, who in the first book he wmte announced that while everyone knows wha.t motion is, no one under>tands Aristotle's definition of it. According to Descartes, "motion ... is nothing more than the action by which any body passes from one place to another" (Principles II, 24). The use of the word "passes" makes this definition an obvious circle; Descartes might just as well have called motion the action by which a thing moves. But the important part of Descartes' definition is the words "nothing more than," by which he asserts that motion is susceptible of no definition which is not circular, as one might say "the color red is just the color red," to mean that the term is not reducible to some modification of. a wave, or analyzable in any other way. There must be ultimate terms of discourse, or there would be no definitions, and indeed no thought. The point is not that one cannot construct a non-circular definition of such a term, one claimed to be properly irreducible, but that one ought not to do so. The true atoms of discourse are those things which can be explained only by means of things less known than themselves. If motion is such an ultimate term, then to define it by means of anything but synonyms is willfully to choose to dwell in a realm of darkness, at the sacrifice of the understanding which is naturally ours in the form of "good sense or ordinary common sense. Descartes' treatment of motion is explicitly anti71 12 Aristotelian and his definition of motion is deliberately circular. '{'he Cartesian physics is rooted in a disagreement with Aristotle about whak the best-known things are, and about where thought should take its beginnings. There is, however, a long tradition of interpretation and translation of Aristotle's definition of motion, beginning at least five hundred years before Descartes and dominating discussions of Aristotle today, which seeks to have things both ways. An unusually clear instance of this attitude is found in the following sentence from a medieval Arabic commentary: "Motion is a first entelechy of that which is in potentiality, insofar as it is in potentiality, and if you prefer you may say that it is a transition from potentiality to actuality." You will recognize the first of these two statements presented as equivalent as a translation of Aristotle's definition, and the second as a circular definition of the same type as that of Descartes. Motion is an entelechy; motion is a transition. The strangeness of the word "entelechy" masks the contradiction between these two claims. We must achieve an understanding of Aristotle's word entelecheia, the heart of his definition of motion, in order to see that what it says cannot be said just as well by such a word as "transition." The word entelecheia was invented by Aristotle, but never defined by him. It is at the heart not only of his definition of motion, but of all his thought. Its meaning is the most knowable in itself of all possible objects of the intellect. 'I'here is no starting point from which we can descend to put together the elements of its meaning. We can come to an understanding of entelecheia only by an ascent from what is intrinsically less knowable than it, indeed knowable only through it, but more known because more familiar to us. We have a number of resources by which to begin such an ascent, drawing upon the linguistic elements out of which Aristotle constructed the word, and upon the fact that he uses the word energeia as �January, 1976 a synonym, or all but a synonym, for entelecheia. The root of cncrgeia is crgon-deed, work, or act-from verse as a whole, which is an organized whole, just as which comes the adjective energon used in ordinary is on1v blood insofar as it contributes to the maintenance speech to mean active, busy, or at work. Energeia is formed of smne organized body. No existing rock can fail to contribute to the hierarchical organization of the universe; I can therefore call any existing rock an actual rock. Energeia, then, always means the being-at-work of some definite, specific something; the rock cannot undergo metabolism, and once the fish does no more than fall to earth and remain there it is no longer a fish. The material and organization of a thing determine a specific capacity or potentiality for activity, with respect to which the corresponding activity has the character of an end. Aristotle says "the act is an end and the being-at-work is the act, by the addition of a noun ending to the adjective energon; we might construct the word at-work-ness from AngloSaxon roots to translate energeia into English, or use the more euphonius periphrastic expression, being-at-work. If we are careful to remember how we got there, we could alternatively use Latin roots to make the word "actuality" to translate energeia. The problem with this alternative is that the word "actuality'' already belongs to the English language, and has a life of its own which seems to be at variance with the simple sense of being active. By the actuality of a thing, we mean not its being-in-action but its being what it is. For example, I recently saw a picture of a fish with an. effeotive means of camouflage: it looks like a rock, but it is actually a fish. I don't seem to be talking about any activity when I attribute an actuality to that thing, completely at rest at the bottom of the ocean. But according to Aristotle, to be something always means to be at work in a certain wav. In the case of the fish at rest, its actuality is the activity of metabolism, the work by which it is constantly transforming material from its environment into parts of itself and losing material from itself into its environment, the activity by which the fish maintains itself as a fish and as just the fish it is, and which ceases only when tl1e fish ceases to be. Any static state which has any determinate character can only exist as the outcome of a continuous expenditure of effort, maintaining the state as it is. Thus even the rock, at rest next to the fish, is in activity: to be a rock is to strain to be at the center of the universe, and thus to be in motion unless constrained otherwise, as the rock in our example is constrained by the large quantity of earth already gathered around the center of the universe. A rock at rest at the center is a.t work maintaining its place, against the counter-tendency of all the earth to displace it. The center of the universe is determined only by the common innate activity of rocks and other kinds of earth. Nothing is which is not somehow in action, maintaining itself either as the whole it is or as a part of some whole. A rock is inorganic only when regarded in isolation from the uni- blood considered by itself could not be called alive, yet and since energeia is named from the ergon it also extends to the being-at-an-end (entelecheia)" (Metaphysics, 1050a, 21-23). The word entelecbeia has a structure parallel to that of energeia. From the root word telos, meaning end, comes the adjective enteles, used in ordinary speech to mean complete, perfect, or full-grown. But while energeia, being-at-work, is made from the adjective meaning at work and a noun ending, entelecheia is made from the adjective meaning complete and the verb exein. Thus if we translate entelecbeia as "completeness" or uperfection," the contribution the meaning of exein makes to the term is not evident. I would suggest that Aristotle uses exein for two reasons, which lead to the same conclusion: First, one of the common meanings of exein is "to be" in the sense of to remain, to stay, or to keep in some condition specified by a preceding adverb, as in the idioms kalos exci, Hthings are going we1:1," or kakos exei, "things are going badly." It means "to be" in the sense of to continue to be. This is only one of several possible meanings of exein, but there is a second fact which makes it likely that it is the meaning which would strike the ear of a Greek-speaking person of Aristotle's time. There was then in ordinary usc the word endelecheia, differing from Aristotle's word entelecheia only by a delta in place of the tau. Endelecheia means continuity or persistence. As one would expect, there was a good deal of confusion in ancient times between the invented and undefined term ente]echeia and the familiar word endelecheia. The use of the pun for the serious philosophic purpose of saying 13 �The College at once two things for whose union the language has no word was a frequent literary device of Aristotle's teacher Plato. In this striking instance, Aristotle seems to have imitated the playful style of his teacher in constructing the most important term in his technical vocabulary. The addition of exein to enteles, through the joint action of the meaning of the suffix and the sound of the whole, superimposes upon the sense of "completeness" that of continuity. Entelecheia means continuing in a state of completeness, or being at an end which is of such a nature that it is only possible to be there by means of the con· tinual expenditure of the effort required to stay there. Just as energeia extends to entelecheia because it is the activity which makes a thing what it is, entelecheia ex· tends to energeia because it is the end or perfection which has being only in, through, and during activity. For the remainder of this talk, I shall use the word "actuality" to translate both energeia and entelecheia, and by actuality I shall mean just that area of overlap between being-atwork and being-at-an-end which expresses what it means to be something determinate. The words energeia and entelecheia have very different meanings, but function as synonyms because the world is such that things have identities, belong ·to species, aot for ends, and form material into enduring organized wholes. The word actuality as thus used is verv close in meaning to the word life, with the exception thai: it. is broader in meaning, carrying no necessary implication of mortality. We embarked on this quest for the meaning of entelecheia in order to decide whether the phrase "transition to actuality" could ever properly render i·t. The answer is now obviously "no." An actuality is something ongoing, but only the ongoing activity of maintaining a state of completeness or perfection already reached; the transition into such a state always lacks and progressively approaches the perfected character which an actuality always has. A dog is not a puppy: the one is, among other things, capable of generating puppies and giving protection, while the other is incapable of generation and in need of protection. We might have trouble deciding exactly when the puppy has ceased to be a puppy and become a dogat the age of one year, for example, it will probably be fully grown and capable of reproducing, but still awkward 14 in its movements and puppyish in its attitudes-but in any respect in which it has become a dog it has ceased to be a puppy. But our concern was to understand what motion is, and it is obviously the puppy which is in motion, since it is growing toward maturity, while the dog is not in motion in that respect, since its activity has ceased to produce change and become wholly directed toward self-maintenance. If the same thing cannot be in the same respect both an actuality and a transition to actuality, it is clearly the transition that motion is and the actuality that it isn't. Descartes is right and Aristotle is wrong. Of course it is possible that Aristotle meant what Descartes said, but simply used the wrong word, that he called motion an entelecheia three times, at the beginning, middle, and end of his explanation of what motion is, when he really meant not entelecheia but the transition or passage to entelecheia. This suggestion would be laughable if it were not what almost everyone who addresses the question today believes. Sir David Ross, certainly the most massively qualified authority on Aristotle of those who have lived in our century and written in our language, the man who supervised the Oxford University Press's forty-five year project of translating all the works of Aristotle into English, in a commentanr on Aristotle's definition of motion, writes: "entelecheia ·must here mean 'actualization,' nOt 'actuality'; it is the passage to actuality that is kinesis" (Pilysics, text with commentary, London, 1936, p. 359). In another book, his commentary on the Metaphysics, Ross makes it clear that he regards the meaning enteleclleia has in every use Aristotle makes of it everywhere but in the definition of motion as being not only other than but incompatib1e with the meaning 41actualization." In view of that fact, Ross' decision that "entelecheia must here mean 'actualization'" is a desperate one, indicating a despair of understanding Aristotle out of his own mouth. It is not translation or interpretation but plastic surgery. Ross' full account of motion as actualization (Aristotle, New York, 1966, pp. 81-82) cites no passages from Aristotle, and no authorities, but patiently explains that motion is motion and cannot, therefore, be an actuality. There are authorities he could have cited, including Moses Maimonides, the twelfth century Jewish philosopher who sought to �January, 1976 reconcile Aristotle's philosophy with the Old Testament and Talmud, and who defined motion as "the transition from potentiality to actuality," and the most famous Aristotelian commentator of all time, Averroes, the twelfth century Spanish Moslem thinker, who called motion a passage from non-being to actuality and complete reality. In each case the circular definition is chosen in preference to the one which seems laden with contradictions. A circular statement, to the extent that it is circular, is at least not false, and can as a whole have some content: Descartes' definition amounts to saying "whatever motion is, it is possible only with respect to place," and that of Averroes, Maimonides, and Ross amounts to saying "whatever mo~ tion is, it results always in an actuality." An accurate rendering of Aristotle's definition would amount to saying (a) that motion is rest, and (b) that a potentiality, which must be, at a minimum, a privation of actuality, is at the same time that actuality of which it is the lack. There has been one major c-ommentator on Aristotle who was pre~ pared to take seriously and to make sense of both these claims. St. Thomas Aquinas, in his interpretation of Aristotle's definition of motion, (Commentary on Aristotle's Physics, London, 1963, pp. 136-137), observes two principles: (1) that Aristotle meant what he wrote, and (2) that what Aristotle wrote is worth the effort of understanding. Writing a century after Maimonides and Averroes, Thomas disposes of their approach to defining motion with few words: it is not Aristotle's definition and it is an error. A passage,. a transition, an actualization, an actualizing, or any of the more complex substantives to which translators have resorted which incorporate in some more or less disguised form some progressive sense united to the meaning of actuality, all have in common that they denote a kind of motion. If motion can be defined, then to rest content with explaining motion as a kind of motion is certainly to err; even if one is to reject Aristotle's definition on fundamental philosophical grounds, as Descartes was to do, the firs·! step must be to see what it means. And Thomas explains clearly and simply a sense in which Aristotle's definition is both free of contradiction and genuinely a definition of motion. One must simply see that the growing puppy is a dog, that the half- formed lump of bronze on which the sculptor is working is a statue of Hermes, that the tepid water on the fire is hot; what it means to say that the puppy is growing, the bronze is being worked, or the water is being heated, is that each is not just the complex of characteristics it possesses right now; in each case, something that the thing is not yet, already belongs to it as that toward which it is, right now, ordered. To say that something is in motion is just to say that it is both what it is already and something else that it isn't yet. What else do we mean by saying that the puppy is growing, rather than remaining what it is, that the bronze under the sculptor's hand is in a different condition from the identically shaped lump of bronze he has discarded, or that the water is not just tepid but being heated? Motion is the mode in which the future belongs to the present, is the present absence of just those particular absent things which are about to be. Thomas discusses in detail the example of the water being heated. Assume it to have started cold, and to have been heated so far to room temperature. The heat it now has, which has replaced the potentiality it previously had to be just that hot, belongs to it in actuality. The capacity it has to be still hotter belongs to it in potentiality. To the extent that it is actually hot it has been moved; to the extent that it is not yet as hot as it is going to be, it is not yet moved. The motion is just the joint presence of potentiality and actuality with respect to same thing, in this case heat. A number of things need to be noted here. In Thomas' version of Aristotle's definition one can see the alternative to Descartes' approach to physics. Since Descartes regards motion as ultimate and given, his physics will give no account of motion itself, but describe the transient static configurations through which the moving things pass. By Thomas' account, motion is not nltimate but is a consequence of the way in which present states of things are ordered toward, other actualities which do not belong to them. One could build on such an account a physics of forces, that is of those directed potentialities which cause a thing to move, to pass over from the actuality it possesses to another which it lacks but to which it is ordered. Motion will thus not have to be understood as the mysterious departure of things from 15 �The College rest, which alone can be described, bnt as the outcome of the action upon one another of divergent and conflicting innate tendencies of things. Rest will be the anomaly, since things will be understood as so constituted by nature as to pass over of themselves into certain states of activity, but states of rest will be explainable as dynamic states of balance among things with opposed tendencies. Leibniz, who criticized Descartes' physics and invented a science of dynamics, explicitly acknowledged his debt to Aristotle (see, e.g., Specimen Dynamicum), whose doctrine of entelecheia he regarded himself as restoring in a we have begged the question and returned to the position of presupposing motion to explain motion. Thomas' account of Aristotle's definition of motion, though immeasurably superior to that of Sir David Ross as interpretation, and far more sophisticated as an approach to and specification of the conditions an account of motion would have to meet, seems ultimately subject to the same circularity. modified form. From Leibniz we derive our current no- The strength of Thomas' interpretation of the definition of motion comes from his taking every word seriously. When Ross discusses Aristotle's definition, he gives no indica.tion of why the he toiouton, or j<insofar as it is such," clause should have been included. By Thomas' account, motion is the actuality of any potentiality which is nevertheless still a potentiality. It is the actuality which has not cancelled its corresponding potentiality but exists along with it. Motion then is the actuality of any potentiality, insofar as it is still a potentiality. This is the formula which applies equally well to the dynamic state of rest and the dynamic state of motion. We shall try to advance our understanding by being still more careful about the meaning of the pronoun he. 'Ibomas' account of the meaning of Aristotle's definition forces him to construe the grammar of the definition in such a way that the clause introduced by the dative singular feminine relative pronoun he has as its antecedent, in two cases, the neuter participle tau ontos, and in the third, the neuter substantive adjective tau dunatou. It is true that this particular feminine relative pronoun often had an adverbial sense to which its gender was irrelevant, but in the three statements of the definition of motion there is no verb but estin. If the clause is understood adverbially, then, the sentence must mean something like: if motion is a potentiality, it is the actuality of a potentiality. Whatever that might mean, it could at any rate not be a definition of motion. Thus the clause must be understood adjectivally, and Thomas must make the relative pronoun dependent upon a word with which it does not agree in gender. He makes the sentence say that motion is the actuality of the potentiality in which there tions of potential and kinetic energy, whose very names, pointing to the actuality which is potential and the actuality which is motion, preserve the Thomi9tic resolutions of the two paradoxes in Aristotle's definition of motion. But though the modern science of dynamics can be seen in germ in St. Thomas' discussion of motion, it can be seen also to reveal difficulties in Thomas' conclusions. According to 'I11omas, actuality and potentiality do not exclude one another but co-exist as motion. To the extent that an ac.tuality is also a potentiality it is a motion, and to the extent that an actuality is a motion it is a potentiality. The two seeming contradictions cancel each other in the dynamic actuali.ty of the present state which is determined by its own future. But are not potential and kinetic energy two different things? The rock which I hold six feet above the ground has been actually moved identically to the rock which I have thrown six feet above the ground, and at .that distance each strains identically to fall to earth; but the one is falling and the other isn't. How can the description which is common to both, when one is moving and the other is at rest, be an account of what motion is? It seems that everything which Thomas says about the tepid water which is being heated can be said also of the tepid water which has been removed from the fire. Each is a coincidence of a certain actuality of heat with a further potentiality to the same heat. What does it mean to say that the wa,ter on the fire has, right now, an order to further heat which the water off the fire lacks? If we say that the fire is acting on the one and not on the other in such a way as to disturb its present state, 16 Mairnonides, Averroes, and Ross fail to say how motion differs from rest. Thomas fails to say how any given motion differs from a corresponding state of balanced tension, or of strain and conshaint. �January, 1976 is yet potentiality. Reading the prononn as dependent upon the feminine noun enteJecheia with which it does agree, we find the sentence saying that motion is the actuality as which it is a potentiality of the potentiality, or the actuality as a potentiality of the potentiality. This reading of .the definition implies that potentialities exist in two ways, that it is possible to be a potentiality, yet not be an actual potentiality. I said at the beginning of this talk that Aristotle's definition of motion was made by putting together two terms, actuality and potentiality, which normally contradict each other. Thomas resolved the contradiction by arguing that in every mohon actuality and po-tentiality are mixed or blended, that the condition of becoming-hot of the water is just the simultaneous presence in the same water of some actuality of heat and some remaining potentiality of heat. I also said earlier that there was a qualifying clause in Aristotle's definition which seemed to intensify, rather than relieve, the contradiction. I was referring to the he toiouton, or he kineton, or he dunaton, which appears in each version of the definition, and which, being as I have claimed grammatically dependent on entelecheia, signifies something the very actuality of which is potentiality. The Thomistic blend of actuality and potentiality has the characteristic that, to the eJ<tent that it is actual it is not potential and to the extent that it is potential it is not actual; the hotter the water is, the less is it potentially hot, and the cooler it is, the less is it actually, the more potentially, hot. The most serious defect in Saint Thomas' interpretation of Aristo.tle's definition is that, like Ross' interpretation, it broadens, dilutes, cheapens, and trivializes the meaning of the word entelecheia. An immediate implication of the interpretations of both Thomas and Ross is that whatever happens to be the ease right now is an enteJecheia, as though being a.t 70 degrees Fahrenheit were an end determined by the nature of water, or as though something which is ·intrinsically so unstable as the instantaneous position of an arrow in flight deserved to be described by the word which Aristotle everywhere else reserves for complex organized states which persist, which hold out in being against internal and external causes tending to destroy them. Aristotle's definition applies to any and every motion: the pencil falling to the floor, the white pages in the book turning yellow, the glue in the binding of the book being eaten by insects. Maimonides, Averroes, and Ross, who say that motion is always a transition or passage from potentiality to actuality, must call the being-on-the-floor of the pencil, the being-yellow of the pages, and the crumbled condition of the binding of the book actualities. Thomas, who says that motion is constituted at any moment by the joint presence of actuality and potentiality, is in a still worse position: he must call every position of the pencil on the way to the floor, every color of the pages on the way to being yellow, and every loss of a crumb from the binding an actuality. If these are actualities, then it is no wonder that philosophers such as Descartes rejected Aristotle's account of motion as a use- less redundancy, saying no more than that whatever changes changes into that into which it changes. We know however that the things Aristotle called actualities are limited in number, and comtitute the world in its ordered finitude rather than in its random particularity. The actuality of the adult horse is one, although horses are many and all different from each other. Books and pencils are not actualities at all, even though they are organized wholes, since their organizations are products of human art, and they maintain themselves not as books and pencils but only as earth. Even the organized content of a book, such as that of the first three chapters of Book Three of Aristotle's Physics, does not exist as an actuality, since it is only the new labor of each new reader that gives being to that content, in this case a very difficult labor. By this strict test, the only actualities in the world, that is the only things which, by their own innate tendencies, maintain themselves in being as organized wholes, seem to be the animals and plants, the ever-the-same orbits of the ever-moving planets, and the universe as a whole. But Aristotle has said that every motion is an entelecheia; if we choose not to trivialize the meaning of entelecheia to make it applicable to motion, we must deepen our understanding of motion to make it applicable to the meaning of entelecheia. In the Metaphysics, Aristotle argues that if there is a distinction between potentiality and actuality at all, there must be a distinction between two kinds of potentiality. 17 �The College The man with sight, but with his eyes closed, differs from the blind man, although neither is seeing. The first man has the capacity to see, which the second man lacks. There are then potentialities as well as actualities in the world. But when the first man opens his eyes, has he lost the capacity to see? Obviously not; while he is seeing, his capacity to see is no longer merely a potentiality, but is a potentiality which has been put to work. The potentiality to see exists sometimes as active or at work 1 and some- times as inactive or latent. But this example seems to get us no closer to understanding motion, since seeing is just one of those activities which is not a motion. Let us con~ sider, then, a man's capacity to walk across the room. lion is like an animal in that it remains completely and exactly what it is through time. My walking across the room is no more a motion as the last step is being taken than at any earlier point. Every motion is a complex whole, an enduring unity which organizes distinct parts, such as the various positions through which the falling pencil passes. As parts of the motion of the pencil, these positions, though distinct, function identically in the ordered continuity determined by the potentiality of the pencil to be on the floor. Things have being to the extent th»t they are or are part of determinate wholes, so that to be means to be something, and change has being because it always is or is part of some determinate poten- When he is sitting or standing or lying still, his capacity to walk is latent, like the sight of the man with his eyes closed; that capacity nevertheless has real being, distinguishing the man in question from a man who is crippled to the extent of having lost all potentiality to walk. When the man is walking across the room, his capacity to walk has been put to work. But while he is walking, what has happened to his capacity to be at the other side of the room, which was also latent before he began to walk? It too is a potentiality which has been put to work by the act of walking. Once he has reached the other side of the room, his potentiality to be there has been actualized in Ross' sense of the ·term, but while he is walking, his potentiality to be on the other side of the room is not merely latent, and is not yet cancelled by an actuality in the weak sense, the so-called actuality of being on that other side of the room; while he is walking his potentiality to be on the other side of the room is actual just as a potentiality. The actualitv of the potentiality to be on the other side of the room, as just that potentiality, is tiality, at work and manifest in the world as change. I shall close by considering the application of Aristotle's account of motion to two paradoxes famous in antiquity. Zeno argued in various ways that there is no motion. Ac· cording to one of his arguments, the arrow in flight is always in some one place, therefore always at rest, and therefore never in motion. We can deduce from Aristotle's definition that Zeno has made the same error, technicallv called the fallacy of composition, as one who would argu~ nothing more nor less than the walking across the room. because it is never the same as water. To be a river is to A similar analysis will apply to any motion whatever. 'Ibe growth of the puppy is not the actualization of its potentiality to be a dog, but the actuality of that potentiality as a potentiality. The falling of the pencil is the actuality of its potentiality to be on the floor, in actuality as just that: as a potentiality to be on the floor. In each case the motion is just the potentiality qua actual and the actuality qua potential. And the sense we thus give to the word entelecheia is not at odds with its other uses: a rna- 18 that no anima.] is alive since its head, when cut off, is not alive, its blood, when drawn out, is not alive, its bones, when removed arc not alive, and so on with each part in turn. The second paradox is one abtributed to Heracleitus, and taken a·s proving that there is nothing but motion, that is, no identity, in the world. The saying goes that one cannot step into the same river twice. If the river flows, how can it continue to be itself? But the flux of the river, like the flight of the arrow, is an actuahty of just the kind Aristotle formulates in his definition of motion. The river is always the same, as a river, precisely be the always identical actuality of the potentiality of water to be in the sea. Joe Sachs graduated from St. John's in 1968; he took his M.A. degree at Pennsylvania State University after graduate studies at the New School for Social Research, New Yark; he was a teaching assistant at Penn State and became a tutor at St. John's in 1975. This is the text of an informal lecture delivered to the summer freshmen in Annapolis on July 6, 1975. �January, 1976 Commencement Address • Graduate Institute ln Liberal Education August 15, 1975 by Eva Brann Candidates for the degree of Master of Arts, Friends and Relatives, Fellow Tutors and Guests of St. John's College: When it first came home to me that I would not be a tutor at the Graduate Institute in Liberal Education this summer, I felt great twinges of regret-regret that I might not see some of you again and regret that I was not to be a part of that exhilarating exercise taking place up here, on the slopes of Sun Mountain. So I was only too glad to accept the Director's invitation to come at least for this occasion, and in the dead of an Eastern winter I sat down to compose my ticket of admission-this commencement address. I had a suspicion that I knew just why he had asked me to come; namely precisely because I had found last summer so thoroughly exhilarating and, on the whole, successful. So it seemed to me that I was called upon to examine the ingredients of that excitement and that success. Of course, as I face you now, I realize what a risky undertaking that will be. After all, I have not been with you through this summer, so what do I know of who grew disenchanted with what or with whom, when and for what reasons? Therefore I have to make my speech in the blind hope that most of you have had, when all is said and done, three or four grand summers. Let me start my analysis from the outside (as it were), from the most external aspect of this enterprise, and go from there to what I think of as its center. This outside aspect is the location of the institute in New Mexico, in the Southwest-for many of us a strange and even fabulous part of the United States. Last summer one of our students, now a graduate, was a man who was an experienced pilot. A number of us had the good fortune to be taken by him for week-end flights over the four-corner country, where New Mexico, Utah, Colorado and Arizona touch. We swooped about like mechanized gods in a ridiculous flying contraption-once we were forced down by a bumble bee which had clogged our speedometer duct-and saw a country whose vastscaled features can only be taken in from above; no ordinary earth-crawling mortal could see enough of it to apprehend its shape. So our view and our scale expanded and expanded. It was a truly fabulous land insofar as every account of it must appear like a fable. For here nature herself had taken to the arts, to building, sculpting, painting. We saw a rock lying on the desert like a majestic ship: Shiprock of the Navahoes; we saw a land covered with the most delicately colored ripple design: the Painted Desert; we saw an enormous park of magnificent columns and arches: Monument Valley. But the ship had no destination, and the painting no intention, and the monuments commemorated nothing. From this point of view each natural panorama appeared as a stupendous mockery of human work, whose soulless, unchanging shapes, with their violent and yet predictable moods, seemed repellent and hostile to the human spirit. We began to understand why the local painters so often produce such dreadful, lurid pictures-it is because they have been anticipated and outdone by the very nature they are supposed to inform with meaning. So in defense we drew in on ourselves and seemed to become particularly attentive friends during that adventure. I thought I noticed something similar here on the campus: at first we were all avid and wide·eyed sight-seers, but once we had seen the sights, we stayed home and made music and conversation. It reminded me of a Platonic dialogue, namely the Phaedrus, the only dialogue which takes place in the country, outside the walls of the city. In this setting Socrates behaves like a well-informed foreigner. "I am a lover of learning," he explains, "and trees and open country won't teach me anything, while the people in town do." And so it seems to me in general, that the enterprise of education needs enclosure and density, and that the very expansive grandeur of this sky 19 �The College and this land, by driving us inward, makes a perfect summer setting for the kind of learning Socrates means. So much for our surroundings; what about the people who belong within this enclosure of learning (I am referring to the Graduate Institute), the people who, Socrates says, are his teachers? What is most striking about the members of the Institute is their variety and distinctiveness. The distinctiveness is largely the result of age. Our students here are adults when they come, as they are adults when they leave. For a teacher used to undergraduates this makes for a noticeable difference. The difference is not in the way classes go-they are remarkably like those in the winter school, since the advantages older students have in experience are often cancelled by their reserve, and the advantages younger students have in freshness are balanced by the better application of the graduate students. The difference is much more in what the students are. Young students are distinguished from each other by the adventures they have had, but older students are distinguished by the moral decisions they have made. It takes a while to learn of these, but I have met people here who have changed their profession because they learned that their advanced training required them to do what they considered indecent, and others who had devoted the last ten years of their lives to the laborious acquisition of a night-school degree, and still others who have deliberately committed their next ten years to the great plan of founding a school which would be exactly what their children needed. The variety of the Institute's students, on the other hand, is much more immediately striking, especially to me, because I have this last winter visited a number of good liberal arts colleges and observed the wisely-fed, well-doctored, regularly-exercised, casually expensive normality of shape and dress that is prevalent among their undergraduates. In contrast we here come broad and narrow, tall and short, gaudy and drab, elegant and dowdy. That variety is, of course, a sign of the variety of our origins: our summer community up here is a community- in-diversity. Like all my fellow-tutors I found these differences in our students not only invigorating but peculiarly appropriate to our undertaking-to graduate liberal education. I am probably about to say what some of you cannot agree with at all. But to say what everyone agrees with is to say nothing at all-and it would seem almost like adding insult to injury to make you sit here in your black heat-absorbent gowns to listen to nothing. Perhaps I can at least make you feel nostalgic for those many seminars which you have left feeling deeply dissatisfied with the opinions of your more vocal fellow-members. So let me begin by saying that I do not believe that everyone in this enormous republic should be like everyone else or should be with everyone else, because that can only be done in terms of the lowest common denominator. 20 But that denominator is so low that all character is lost, since only those traits can be kept which offend no one. The compulsory public schools in very large systems are sad examples of this effect-Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice is removed because it offends some Jews, prayers disappear because religious libertarians object,. discipline is adjusted to suit progressive parents. Everything has to be composed very carefully and inoffensively or made up anew, while boredom and irritation grow. It would seem to me better that people should have alternative places to go, places where they need not be so careful not to tread on each other's toes, where they can live loudly and merrily or silently and soberly, in tribes or alone, as suits them. In stating this preference, I may seem to be ripe for certain modern "movements" -those toward "individual liberation" on the one hand and "ethnic identity" on the other. But in fact, I have the greatest doubts about them both. For I think we have, all of us, together, gone much too far toward losing our innocence for such crude salvations. And I think that this Institute, because of its setting, its people, and finally and most centrally, its program, is the place to come to terms with this fact. Here we live together in a comfortably temporary suspension of our working opinions and in friendly compromise of our living habits-for example, I confine my squeaking flute practice to an inoffensive hour and my neighbor kindly turns down her radio to an inaudible volume. Here we can think about what ought to be common and what ought to be separate. Now it is easy to know what makes us all utterly the same and equal. If we came here overland we all travelled over well-numbered routes, keeping to the right of a white line and going, I trust, at exactly 55 miles per hour, that being the national speed limit. If we stopped to eat we knew what kind of standard stuff would come with our hamburger, like it or not. (I have a friend, a little boy, the joy of whose life it is to bring a certain imperial hamburger dispensary to a dead halt by asking for his hamburger without a pickle.) If we go to the drugstore in the Coronado Shopping Center, 1500 miles from home, we can home in on the paper clips without the least hesitation, because they are always in the stationery department. De Tocqueville says in Democracy in America that Americans are 1 without knowing it, Cartesians in action. He is referring to the way they direct their minds toward managing their affairs. Those of you who have read Descartes' Rules in the "Mathematics and Natural Science" seminar, or even the Meditations in the Philosophy tutorial, will remember what way that is: just such a rational, departmentalizing, engineering way as has produced the well-organized, convenient sameness of our lives. We certainly owe our sameness largely to Cartesian principles. But people get tired of this rule-ridden, rationalized, homogeneous world, and so they try to construct differ- �January, 1976 ences and distinctions. Merchandise, for instance, is "personalized/' so that you can order a mug, say with your initials on it. Of course, those initials are stamped on before you ever order the mug-many J's and M's and very few X's and Y's, because few people are called Xavier and Yolanda and many people John and Mary. All kinds of "individualization" are, I think, only sophisticated sameness. It seems to me to be at least partly the same with the "ethnic movements" as well. They are a reaction to our homogeneous lives, but a reaction on the same level and from the same source. The paraphernalia that go with them are certainly merchandise like any other. But what is more essential is that they were invented at the universities and think-tanks by people who have subjected the world to rational analysis. The very learnedness of the term "ethnic" shows this, as does its generality. The scholars who constructed the concept took the Greek word used in the New Testament to name the heathen nations and to make an invidious distinction between them and the People of the Covenant. But they took the derogatory sense out of it. Anyone (except perhaps those poor "Wasps") can be equally an "ethnic" -it is a difference without distinction. Here is the point I want to make: It is too late for us to make an innocent and naive return either to youthfully spontaneous individuality or to venerably traditional ancestral ways. We are too much caught in the regularity, efficiency, and rationality of our Cartesian world. That is why our enthusiastic attempts in those directions always look a little like a costume party. And yet I believe in some such return. I think most of us have a feeling that some sort of a new beginning is needed, and I have never heard of a true beginning which was not a return. Wbat I want to claim is that a liberal education, like ours, here, this summer, is the beginning of that beginning. Some people say that the correct meaning of the phrase "liberal education" is "food for the free." "Liberal" means "suitable for free people," and the word "education" has its root in common with our word "edible." I don't know if this etymology is correct, but I will use it to help me say something opposite: it seems to me that in modern times a first, preliminary function of a liberal education must be to serve as a purgative, a cleansing, of those who wish to be free. By its means we can cleanse ourselves of our undigested and unconscious prejudices, most of which turn out to be associated with just that rationalized sameness I was describing before. Isn't that just the effect which the study and discussion of Descartes, Rousseau, Hume, de Tocqueville and Marx had, if they had any? But while such study sets us free from the sameness of our regulated environment, it also reveals to us what we have both truly to ourselves and truly in common: our common human nature. Let me give two examples taken from my experiences last summer. The first will mean most to those of you who have taken the rewarding leap of doing the "Mathematics and Natural Science," and who have studied Euclidean and Non-Euclidean geometry. The Euclidean figures came very naturally-every child who draws stick-figures already implicitly sees their properties, and anyone, when asked a series of skillful questions, can, like Meno's slave boy, make Euclidean discoveries by consulting his imagination. But when we came to Non-Euclidean Geometry, although every figure and every theorem was perfectly thinkable, not one of us could honestly report that we were able to imagine a single Non-Euclidean property. For instance, we all understood that in this geometry no figures could be different in size and yet preserve the same shape, but we could not imagine this impossibility. Then we had a very lively discussion in which we concluded that the very ability to make images and figures different in size but the same in shape, was so deep and common a human characteristic that humanity might almost be tested by the presence of an image-making faculty, which would by its very nature be Euclidean. We concluded that human beings must have Euclideanism in common. The second example comes from the "Politics and Society" seminar where we read Thomas Aquinas' Treatise on Law. To my happy surprise, it turned out to be the summer's most influential reading. I often wondered why that was so, and finally thought that it must be because our relation to eternal, natural, human and divine law was recognized by the members of the seminar as being both more their own and at the same time more a common concern than other, apparently exciting and current, social preoccupations. Thomas had evidently taught us terms which could become our common reference. This then, seems to me to be what liberal education is for and what should happen in the course of liberal learning-and should continue to happen when its formal requirements have long since been completed: First, that we should find ourselves enabled to break out of the web of learned slogans and engineered solutions in which we are enmeshed. Next, that we should search for the true roots of our own humanity in hopes of discovering common questions, establishing common terms and formulating possible common answers. And finally, that we should be moved to make a deep-felt, thoughtful return to our own affairs and take up our narrower loyalties to ourselves, to our ancestry, or just to our daily associations, not by being helplessly and witlessly driven into them, but by free choice. So I think I can summarize the ingredients of the summer's exhilaration in this way: there was the grandness of our setting, which made us expand and yet pay more attention to one another; there was the variety and distinctiveness of onr participants, which made them the best sort of partners in learning; and finally there was that commonality, rooted in single human souls, which is the beginning and the end of this program of liberal education. 21 �The College You have completed the formal requirements of this program, and are about to enter the degree of Master of the arts which make a liberal education possible. That degree is given for practical and professional purposes, and you certainly have, through three or four hard-working summers, earned that reward. For my part, I have never been able to see why a thing that is good in itself-a liberal education-should not also have ordinary profitable consequences. I therefore wish yon the very best of luck in your careers and I earnestly hope that your plans may work out and that your expectations may be realized. Still, speaking among ourselves, good as it is to have a Master of Arts, it would be ridiculous to claim to be one, for the free arts are exactly such as can have no masters, only devoted practitioners. And therefore let me now welcome you, who are about to be alumni, to the perma· nent part of St. John's College, not as Masters, but as Fellow-lovers of liberal learning. CAMPUS-ALUMNI NEWS SPAETH SPEAKS Tutor Robert L. Spaeth of the An· napolis campus was a speaker during the 1975 Frontiers in Education Con· ference, held at the Georgia Institute of Technology in Atlanta during Oc· tober. Mr. Spaeth's topic was "St. John's College: One Culture," part of a conference segment entitled "Humanities-Engineering Bridge: Two· Way Traffic, Present and Future." ZoLLARS HoNORED Gerald F. Zollars, director of admis· sions for the Santa Fe campus, has been awarded a certificate of appreciation by the National Association of College Admissions Counselors for out· standing and dedicated service during his two years as chairman of the NACAC Self-Study Task Force Sub· committee on Composition and Fund~ in g. The Subcommittee was charged with studying the membership, the work· ing rehtionships of the state and re· gional associations with the national office, the budget of the association, and the roles of .the national office and the national officers. After com· pleting the study the Subcommittee submitted a report .to the Task Force making recommenda·tions for changes in the governance and structure of the NACAC. 22 Serving with Zollars were H. Leon· ard Richardson, headmaster of the Katherine Branson School; Aline Riv· ers, director of admissions at Fisk University; Carolyn Ruley, director of guidance, Wyoming High School, Cin· cinna1ti, Ohio; and Bud Nicholson, as~ socia.te director of admissions, University of Denver. ALUMNI CHAPTERS STIRRING Three local area chapters of the Alumni Association have been active this year in organizing seminars led by tutors from the Annapolis campus. The New York Area Group started its eighth consecutive year of organized activity with a seminar on Jane Austen's Mansfield Park, led by Miss Eva Brann, on 12 November. Under the capable direction of Mary (Bittner) Wiseman '58, the group plans several other events, both academic and social, between now and May. Up in the land of the bean and the cod, the Boston alumni played host to Tutor Samuel S. Kutler '54, who con· ducted a seminar on The Symposium on 22 November. If not the first time ever, this was the first seminar in a very long time in Boston; we hope in· terest will make it the first of a long series. John Adcock '64 was the local coordinator, with assistance from Hank '70 and Christine (Ferrarini) '72 Constantine. And we are pleased to report that the Washington, D. C. chapter is up and about again, thanks to Georgetown medical student Daniel S. Pearl '73. On 16 December Laurence Berns of the Annapolis faculty conducted a sem· inar on Francis Bacon's New Organon and The New Atlantis. Plans have al· ready been made for additional semi· nars in February and April. Are there other areas where alumni want seminars? If so, let Tom Parran, Director of Alumni Activities, know about it. There are tutors ready and willing to participate in these regional activities; all that is needed is an indi· cation of interest from alumni in that region, and one key person willing to make the necessary local arrangements, such as a meeting place. How about it, Philadelphia or Chi· cago? INSTITUTE GRADUATES 25 At ceremonies on the Santa Fe campus on 15 August, twenty-five students of the Graduate Institute, their course work and essays completed, received their Master of Arts degrees from President Richard D. Weigle. Annapolis tutor Eva Brann, at the invitation of the students themselves, delivered the commencement address (see text elsewhere in this issue). The graduates and their hometowns are as follows: �January, 1976 From New Mexico: Roberta Ross Fine, Tesque; James G. Gage, Albuquerque; Paulette Donovan Gage, Albuquerque; Teresina Gallegos de Lucero, Santa Fe; Grace Anna McNeley, Ramah; Justin R. Moore, Taos. From Maryland: Evelyn Patterson Burrel~ Baltimore; Don Franklin Lee, Hyattsville; Janice Marie Simmons, Hyattsville; Megan Tyndall, Annapolis. From New York: Frances Wilhelmenia Haywood, New York City; Trumilla S. Johnson, Roosevelt. From Texas: Peter Stephen Kovatis, Austin; Darraid K. Smith, Austin. Miscellaneous: Joseph Clifton Andrews, Lawrenceville, Va.; Carol Hinds, Leavenworth, Kan.; Miriam Beth Kalis, Des Moines, Ia.; Daniel I. Powell, Jr., Columbus, Ohio; Franz Snyder, Berkeley, Cal.; Marion Diane Stieghorst, Littleton, Col.; Gail Tapscott, Washington, D.C.; Gene F. Taylor, Huntsville, Ala.; Philip Joseph Valley, Manchester, N.H.; Karen Lucetta Wilkes, Norridge, Ill.; Janet M. Works, St. Louis, Mo. HOMECOMING 1975 It takes only one good reunion class to set the tone for a successful Homecoming, and again this year there was such a class. 1950 was, as the vintners say, a very good year, and an account of its reunion is found elsewhere on these pages. And it was a successful weekend. CouNTERCLOCKWISE, from the left: Jim Du- gan '26, guest Hookie Weiskittel, Lutie Tall '21, Funk DeSantis '27, Heinie Wegner '26, Wes Everett '22 (standing), Jim Miller '28, Roland King '25. It started on Friday with a lecture by a member of the class of 1950, Thomas K. Simpson of the Santa Fe faculty (see lead article), followed by an informal "beer and conversation," with alumni, seniors, and faculty gathering in the basement of Chase-Stone House until rather late hours. On Saturday morning there were two Alumni Seminars, a special for the reunion class, and the regular seminar; this latter was co-led by Miss Eva Brann and Mr. William O'Grady in a livelv discussion of Friedrich Nietzsche\ Die Friihliche Wissenschaft. Alumni are grateful to these tutors for giving so generously of their time. The annual meeting after lunch was presided over by William W. Simmons '48, elected in September to fill the unexpired term of Bernard F. Gessner '27, who had resigned at that time. Four directors of the Association were reelected: Marcia (DelPlain) Reff '57, Patrica (White) von Schwerdtner '70, William F. Cone '67, and Edward T. Heise '36. In a brief ceremony Mr. Simmons presented Mr. Gessner with a pewter bowl as a tribute from the Association. [In November Mrs. Reff was elected Executive Vice President to fill the place vacated by Mr. Simmons.] TI1ere followed a lively discussion of the pros and cons of a new Alumni Register; the conclusion, formalized by a vote of the membership, was that the College should publish such a register within a year. A counseling session for students was staged by the alumni after the meeting. Carol (Phillips) Tilles '59, in cooperation with Counseling and Placement Director Brenda Robertson, presented a panel of alumni 'guest experts', with particular emphasis on the legal and medical professions. The now-annual Alumni-Student Soccer confrontation turned out to be rather an unequal one; when the shouting died down the score was Students 6, Alumni I. Something was said about an aging alumni goalie: true, Bryce? The final Homecoming event was the reception and banquet at the Annapolis Hilton Inn. A rather complete Association President William Simmons reads citation to Award of Merit winner Col Thomas W. Ligon (right). program featured the Class of 1950 and its honors to Tutor RobertS. Bart (see story on 1950 reunion), presentation of the Alumni Award of Merit to Col. Thomas W. Ligon of the Class ofl916, and honors by the entire Alumni Association to Ford K. Brown, Tutor Emeritus. Col. Ligon's citaton read in part: "His professional achievements, together with his distinguished service to the College on behalf of its Alumni, honor him and this Association." Col. Ligon served for two years in the late 1950's as volunteer Alumni Secretary of the College, and was responsible for revitalizing the Alumni Annual Giving Campaign. Ford K. Brown celebrated in 1975 two major events; his 80th birthday and the completion of 50 years with St. John's College. It was primarily for the latter that the Association directors decided to honor him as their special guest at Homecoming. There was some tale-spinning by alumni who had known Mr. Brown over the years, tales perhaps slightly apocryphal, but catching the flavor of the love and es.teem which the alumni feel for this good man and beloved teacher. Association President Bill Simmons presented Mr. Brown a silver bowl inscribed: "Ford K. Brown, teacher and friend, 50 years, St. John's Alumni." The ceremony ended with the Reverend J. Winfree Smith of the faculty reading a poem to Mr. Brown by Albert Irwin Rusteberg '30, who was unable to attend the banquet. (See text elsewhere on these pages.) It was a fitting end to a fine Homecoming celebration. 23 �The College A SPECIAL POEM TO FORD K. BROWN As a finale to the ceremony honoring Ford K. Brown at the Homecoming banquet, J. Winfree Smith read the following poem which had been submitted by Albert Irwin Rusteberg of the class of 1930; unfortunately, "Rusty" had to be out of town that day. Here, with no apologies to Ogden Nash, is the poem: Ford K. Brown While we're having a final homecoming drink, We can't help but sit back, relax, and think Of the only tutor who's here that we know, Was a St. John's professor a half century ago. Much has been said and many quotes follow, Of this man who came as a promising Rhodes scholar. His teaching career had scarcely begun, When he attained his Zenith in more ways than one. He saw the school struggle through fat and lean days, And helped out the Navy in numerous ways. He saw regimes come, and saw regimes go, In Annapolis and Santa Fe, New Mexico. His knowledge and wisdom and wit still delight us, And that's in spite of his cursed arthritis. As we raise our glasses high above you, What more can we say but "Ford K., we love you!" Albert I. Rusteberg '30 KNOW YouR DIRECTORS a director since 1970, and has served as In response to Association president Bill Simmon's plea at Homecoming for greater visibility for alumni, we thought it appropriate to introduce the directors of the Alumni Asso.ciation to their constituents. The officers will be introduced in this issue, followed in subsequent issues by the other directors. These, then, are the men and women who guide the Alumni Association: Our president, William W. Simmons '48 is married to the former Anne McKay, lives in Severna Park, Md., and works in Annapolis. He is currently vice president of Fawcett Boat Supplies, Inc., a ship's chandlery serving the Chesapeake Bay area. Bill has been He was elected to the Board of Visitors and Governors last year. 24 treasurer and executive vice president. The new executive vice president is Marcia (DeiPiain) Reff '57. After two years at St. John's Marcia completed her studies at Brooklyn College. She moved to Maryland after teaching in New York, and for the past six years has taught at the McDonagh School near Baltimore. Her son, Michael O'Mahoney, is a junior at St. John's. Marcia's husband is Dr. Martin Reff, dean of the faculty at the Community College of Baltimore. The Reffs live in Towson, Md. Edward F. Lathrop '38, secretary of the Association, has been involved with the College off and on since gradua- tion, and most recently and directly on the board of directors since 1973. He has been secretary since October 1974. Ned has been an athletic coach and tutor at St. John's, served as alumni secretary for the College, and as a director of the Association on several occasions. A retired Navy captain, Ned and his wife, the former Kitty Strange, live in Annapolis. Carol (Phillips) Tilles '59 (Mrs. William R.) is a homemaker and mother who lives in Severna Park and works for the Archivist of the State of Maryland. Her husband was a classmate, and is a past president of the Association. Carol has served on the board of directors since 1972, and has been its treasurer since 1974. ALUMNI SEEK GREATER VISIBILITY [Ibe following, reprinted with penmssmn from the November 1975 issue of The St. John's Reporter, was written by John __ Rogers of the class of 197 51' Failure to publicize more fully the accomplishments of St. John's alumni was scored by William W. Simmons, president of the Alumni Association, at a joint meeting between the college's Board of Visitors and Governors and association directors during homecom~ ing weekend. The meeting, the first of its kind, originally had been suggested by Mr. Simmons to inform the board more extensively of the alumni efforts in 'recruiting, career counseling and fund raising. "Alumni have always been involved in counseling," remarked Carol Phillips Tilles, '59, who, as chairman of the association's counseling and placement committee, works with Brenda Robertson, the college's counseling and placement officer. "The association can maximize this counseling." She described efforts in recent years to bring together students interested in particular fields and alumni who have entered them. The placement office maintains a counseling file of alumni and their professions. "The association can provide a stntc- ture of communication that can be very �January, 1976 25 Robert Bart (left) receives scroll from Jack Carr. helpful for Ms. Robertson and the students," Mrs. Tilles concluded. Marianne DeCamillis Braun, '58, cited "facilitating contact between alumni and prospectives" as her concern in working with Joanne Aitken, director of admissions. Ms. Aitken affirmed that alumni are the best source of information for prospective students and that she and Mrs. Braun are attempting to increase alumni assistance. Bernard Gessner, '27, gave a brief account of the alumni history of financially supporting the college, tracing it from Francis Scott Key's concern m 1827 for "the mouldering walls of McDowell." Mr. Gessner hopes the association will be able to raise $75,000 during the current year. In concluding his remarks to the board, Mr. Simmons expressed concern that the alumni achieve a greater visibility. He characterized St. John's as divided into two communities: the "on- campus" community of faculty and students and the "off-campus" community of alumni and the board. The latter suffers from under-representation in the college's publications, he said. He suggested that changes be made or publications be added to correct the situation. "Our graduates are everywhere," he concluded. "Making them visible to each other and to the world would make them beneficial for recruiting, FOR '50 Not only was it the twenty-fifth anniversary reunion for the class of 1950, but twenty-five alumni who had graduated with the class showed up for the celebration! And a real celebration it was, carefully planned for almost a year by a committee consisting of Jack Carr, Bernard Fleischmann, Theodore Hendricks, and Peter Whipple. The impact of the class on Homecoming weekend was evident right from the start: the lecture Friday evening was delivered by Thomas K. Simpson, a member of the class now on the faculty in Santa Fe. He was introduced by Mr. Fleischmann. On Saturday morning a special seminar was held for the class, led by Robert S. Bart, Annapolis tutor on exchange to Santa Fe for this semester, and Robert Goldwin '50, former dean in Annapolis and now a special consultant to President Ford. At the banquet Saturday night, the Reverend Frederick Beardsley '50 gave the pre-dinner invocation. In ceremonies after the meal, the class paid tribute to Mr. Bart, who came to St. John's when the class of 1950 entered as freshmen. Ted Hendricks, as chairman of the reunion committee, spoke briefly and then called on Jack Carr to present a special handmade scroll to Mr. Bart (see text elsewhere on these pages), making him an honorary member of the class. And the effect of the presence of the class of 1950 was still being felt the next day, when the Reverend G. Harris Collingwood, a '48er who graduated in '50, delivered the II a.m. sermon at St. Anne's Church. Mr. Collingwood was introduced by the Reverend J. Winfree Smith of the faculty. The Class of 1950, in celebration of its Silver Jubilee hereby proclaims ROBERT S. BART, TUTOR, to bean Honorary Member of that Class, with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereunto. Because you started with us when we came as Freshmen in 1946; Because, for four years, you learned with us and taught us how to learn; Because, for thirty years, you have continued to learn and to teach and to love this college; We honor you on this, the Twenty-Fifth Anniversary of our graduation, and count you among our own. Given this 25th day of October, 1975 St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland counseling and fund raising. 71 25 �The College Alumni Authors to be Recognized Charlotte Fletcher, Librarian, and William W. Simmons '48, president of . · the Alumni Association, have announced the establishment of the Alumni Authors Collection. The collection, to be housed in the Library on the Annapolis campus, will consist of the published works of alumni and alumnae authors. Miss Fletcher and Mr. Simmons stated that the collection will give recognition to considerable body of works by alumni of St. John's. "I have long believed that alumni of this college deserve more recognition than they have thus far received," said Mr. Simmons. "This collection of works will acknowledge publicly the efforts of our alumni writers. On behalf of all alumni, I want to thank Miss Fletcher for her interest and cooperation in making this collection a reality." Alumni works already in possession of the Library will, of course, form the nucleus of the new collection. Among the authors currently represented are: Philip L. Alger '12, Alvin A. Aronson '52, Louis L. Snyder '28, Robert Lewis '37, Robert L. Campbell '45, and Frederick S. Wildman, Jr. '53. A most sincere invitation for contributions is therefore issued to all alumni and alumnae who have had works published. The only criterion for submissions is that all books must have been published and copyrighted; unfortunately, there is not enough storage space for unpublished manuscripts in the Library. It is recognized, moreover, that many alumni authors write not for publication but for performance; for that reason, scripts of plays for all media, provided they have been perfonned publicly and are copyrighted, are most welcome. Similarly, scores of musical compositions which have been performed publicly and have been copyrighted will also be accepted. The only request is that scripts and scores be bound in some permanent fashion to preserve them. While the exact location of the collection in the Library was still being discussed as this went to press, it will probably be shelved in the L-shaped room on the second floor, near the elevator and the Alumni Room. (Although the Alumni Room might seem a more appropriate spot, the cases there already house the collection of the late Peter Jackson '43 and the College's other rare books.) Inquiries about the new collection may be addressed to Tom Parran, Director of Alumni Activities. All works intended for the collection should be addressed to: Alumni Authors Collection, The Library, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404. Then on Sunday evening, John J. Logue '50 gave an informal lecture on the topic, "The Trillion Dollar Opportunity: Peace, Ecology, and Ocean Wealth." Mr. Logue is a professor of political science and director, World Order Research Institute, Villanova University. Among the members of the class unable to attend the reunion was Patrick D. Davis, who became a father for the first time just one week before Homecoming: Master Justinian Adrian Davis was born on October 17th in Seattle, Washington. 26 A number of the reunion group were combining Homecoming with visits with offspring currently students at the College: Harris Collingwood, daughter Marjorie; Jim Frame, daughter Shannab; Ted Hendricks, son Ted; and Bro Herrod, son Ralph. And as a final reminder of the "25 for '50" group, a week later Myron Wolbarsht delivered an informal leehue, ~~visual Perception," at the College. Myron is professor and director of research, Department of Ophthalmology, Duke University Medical Center. Now-Class of 1951, where are you? CLASS NOTES 1922 Dr. Rafael Rodriguez de la Seda y Moliua is listed in Who's Who in the World, 2nd edition, 1974-75. Dr. Rodriguez-Molina is honorary professor of clinical' medicine at the University of Puerto Rico School of Medicine. His entire professio_nal life has been devoted to the study- of tropical diseases endemic to his native island. Many of his writings have appeared in contemporary medical textbooks, including Principles of Internal Medicine, Mc- Graw-Hill, 1962. 1931 Edwin L. Lotz, vice president and research director for the Burlington Glass Fabrics division of Burlington Industries, has retired from the company after a 37-year career. Ed was elected to the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame in 1967. He and his wife, the former Kathleen Jones, have three children. 1938 Francis E. Barkman writes that he is now serving as visiting professor of law at Gonzaga University School of Law, Spokane, Wash. The newly-elected treasurer-business manager of the Annapolis Fine Arts Foundation, Inc., is Julius Rosenberg, 1942 Journet Kahn is now teaching both social sciences and humanities in the divisional-type great books program at Shimer College. He has developed a growing interest in adult education. Among the newer Maryland Eastern Shoremen are Doris and Tom Parran. In October they moved to a small home in Queen Anne's County, on Greenwood Creek, from which he commutes to the College, Tom claims the Land of Pleasant Living really is more pleasant cast of the Bay. 1943 Our apologies to Douglas Buchanan and to Sam Sheinkman '46 for failure to cover the talk they gave, more or less jointly, on psychiatry last May, here at the College. Doug is with the Psychiatric Department, Newport Hospital, Newport, R. 1., and claims his visit to Annapolis was like old home week, seeing "Peter" Kellogg-Smith, Phil Camponeschi '46, and Mrs. James S. Martin. 1944 Warren Zeik is among our alumni authors (how about contributing to the new Collection, Warren?) with The Root and the Branch, edited with Rabbi Martin Siegel, Roth Pub., 1973; New Christian ·communities, Roth Pub., 1973, and a novel, "a St. John's-type fantasy," called The Karma Machine, under the penname Michael Davidson, Popular Library pa- per-back, 197 5. �January, 1976 1947 A Communicard from Arthur 0. "Pete" Davis tells us that he is married, has two children, Linda, 11 and Susan, 13, and is Director of Monitoring Services at the Montgomery County (Ohio) Children Services Board. 1950 The Fall 1975 issue of The Harley Record, by The Harley School, Rochester, N.Y., features Matson G. "Bud" Ewell. Bud is, we believe, still headmaster of the Upper School. Those of you who remember the ketch which Bud started under the tutelage of the late Fram; Plunder will be interested in knowing that she is still in Bud's backyard, slowly, carefully, being fitted and cmfted in a way Franz would surely approve. Truly a hobby of a lifetime. 1949 Aaron Bisberg reports with more than pardonable pride the receipt by his wife, Ruth, of her bachelor's degree from the College of White Plains after years of hard labor. To quote Aaron, "no one more proudly wore, nor did any husband more proudly view, a cap and gown." 1952 Waiter Schatzberg is a professor of German and comparative literature, and is chairman of the Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures, at Clark University in Worcester, Mass. 1957 Information comes to us indirectly that Jack Nadal is now deputy assistant administrator for regulations, Office of Federal Procurement Policy, Office of Management and Budget, in Washington, D. C. 1962 A press release from Penn State advises that Robert A. Licht is in receipt of the Ph.D. degree in philosophy from that institution. 1963 The Communicard continues to pay off; Barbara (Lind) Anderson writes that she has been living in Santa Fe for the past ten years, is married to Brian Anderson, a blacksmith (who is finishing a pair of iron gates for the Smithsonian Institution), and that they have a son, Colin, 5, and a daughter Casey, 3. 1964 Already reported in The Reporter from the Annapolis campus, but worthy of repetition, is news of the $65,000 National Science Foundation grant won this year by William P. Banks. The money will fund a two-year project which Bill wil1 conduct on human visual perception. During this semester Bill is at Johns Hopkins, and is a frequent visitor to St. John's, serving as a consultant to a faculty study group preparing a new course on perception. John P. Hetlaud, a systems analyst by vocation and a singer by avocation, is director of the Renaissance Street Singers, a group of 1020 people who perform the music of cathedrals and monasteries in equally drafty places such as streets, parks, subways, and doorways in New York City on Sunday afternoons. Julie V. Wiggenhorn advises that she and Elisio Da Costa, an artist and designer, were married in August 1975. Julie works for A.T. &T., planning communications facilities. 1965 Vivian (Ronay) Barry tells us that she is halfway toward her Master's degree in city and regional planning. This past spring she won a national election for a 2-year term as student representative to the Board of Directors of the .American Society of Planning Officials 1966 Ian M. Harris last spring completed his doctorate in philosophy of education at Temple University, and has received a teaching post in the Department of Community Education at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee. The former George F. Kramer (SF) (as he was known when a student) informs us that he has resumed the name he was born with, and is now George F. Bingham. He and his wife Mary Vinton have one child, Joshua Warren Bingham, born 7 September 1975. George is an attorney with the Securities Investors Protection Corporation, a non-profit D.C. corporation designed to protect customers' accounts in the event of the failure of securities brokers. Marg;rret ( Baroniak) Ruppert, after reading the September issue of The Reporter, comments on the article on what alumni do: "Let's hear it for Motherhood. Just wonder how many alumnae have opted for Ph.T.putting husband through (which I've just done) or dropped out of grad school for a baby (which I've just done). Daniel Peter Ruppert was born 7 April 1975-arriving seven weeks early he weighed 4 pounds 2 ounces at birth. He is now thriving, and the joy of our lives." 1967 Another recipient of a Penn State doctorate in philosophy is David L. Levine; David received his degree in August together with Bob Licht (see 1962) . 1968 Regina Forsyth has successfully passed Exam of the Chartered Financial Analysts Exams. There are two more to be passed before she can be made a full-fledged CFA. Meanwhile she works as a securities analyst for a life insurance company. After completing medical school and the University of Maryland in 1972, followed by one year of general surgery and one year of neurology at the University of Rochester (N.Y.), Dr. Sharon (Marselas) Laudman is now in her second year of neuroslligical residency at George Washington University Has- pital in D. C. Sharon's first child was born last June, a daughter, Artemis. Her husband, Ronald, is an internist in private practice in Silver Spring, Md. Coustance (Weigle) Mann (SF) writes that she and husband Tom moved to Princeton, N.J., in the fall of 1974, where he teaches at Princeton Theological Seminary. Tom received his Ph.D. degree fr~nn Yale last spring, Connie works part-time at the Princeton Public Library, is taking courses at the YWCA, and is involved with activities at the Seminary. A. Gregory McClure, after leaving St. John's, graduated from Johns Hopkins, received his M.D. degree from the University of Pittsburgh in 1972, and is currently in residency in internal medicine at Lankenau Hospital in Philadelphia. Harold M. Morgan, Jr. (SF) is working on an M.B.A. degree at the University of New Mexico, has done some free-lance photography, some political work, and, unsuccessfully, attempted to organize a local-level business publication for northern New Mexico. 1969 Harold 0. Koenig supplements our July report of his marriage with the news that he has completed a year as Chaplain Resident at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, and is back for his final year at Virginia 111cological Seminary in Alexandria, Va. Harry reports he wears his bachelor's hood proudly when he preaches. 1970 An Alumni Communicard encapsulates the career of Lee Margulis these past few years: "Was in successive order a high school teacher, private detective, insurance adjuster, student of film, novelist, shoe salesman, handyman; picked up M.A. in advertising (Syracuse University); radio salesman and copywriter, space salesman (Village Voice), M.B.A. candidate (Long Island University), and currently a media planner at Young & Rubicam, Int." Dwight S, Platt is a partner in a national consulting service called MOPAC, a transactional analysist, and on the graduate faculty at St. Mary's Seminary in Baltimore. He and Susan have two sons, Charles, 5, and Sage, 2. Sue (Dame) Skibbins (SF) writes that she and David are divorced; she works in the law library at the University of California at Berkeley and hoped to enter a program this fall in Human Development at California State at Hayward. She also studies graphoanalysis, is writing music, and auctioneering in the Santa Cruz area. 1971 Roger N. Duuaway (SF) studied classics after leaving Santa Fe in 1969. He then enlisted in the Army Security Agency, studied Mandarin Chinese for 18 months in Monterey, Cal., and had a tour of duty on the island of Honshu, Japan, at Misawa Air Base, Since his discharge he has returned to the University of 27 �The College Oklahoma, where he is working on his M.A. degree in .classics and teaching Latin. He hopes to complete his degree work in the spring. JeHrey C. "Cole" Kitcl1en received his Ph.D. degree in mathematical sciences from Johns Hopkins University in November. Travis Lee Price III {SF) has designed the first Federally-funded solar energy system in a New York City apartment project. He holds an M.A. degree in architecture from the University of New Mexico. "Graphics by Nostradamus" are really by Barry N. Sher, who has done a subway poster for the City of New York, Department of Air Resources, a book cover for the Real Estate Institute of New York University, and "lots of campaign literature." 1972 With a thesis about Walter Lippmann's theories on news and public opinion, Philip Anstetll earned an M.A. degree in journa1~~m from the University of Missouri last August. Charles Donahue is teaching at the Hyde School in Bath, Me. Helen (Anastaplo) Scharbaci1 graduated from the University of Chicago Law School in June, and is working downtown in Chicago for the firm of Mayer, Brown, and Platt. We will attribute the following to Irving H. L, Williams, although the author is uncertain: "The Dow Street All-Stars, starring Irving H. L. Williams '72 and Charley Brown '74, regularly meet the Pine Street Punks, with Steven Hanft '70, Jennifer Blaisdell '73, and Andy Reed '73, for the soft-ball championship of the World. Our address is 15 Dow Street, Portland, Me., and we leave the door unlocked. Come and visit." "\Vhat happened to the rest of the class?" asks Nancy \'(Iillis. She received an M.A. degree in psychology from the University of Chicago in 1973, then interrupted her studies to take a research fellowship at the 111inois Psychiatric Institute. Nancy is now a full-time consulting psychologist to the Illinois Drug Abuse Programs, enjoys her new sailboat, and takes pleasure in "not being in school for a while." 1973 Prudence Davis reports the expiration of her Watson Fellowship monies, which she used in part to complete a year-long course in tapestry weaving at West Dean College in Sussex, England. Prudence is now a postulant at Priory Regina Pacis, a Benedictine priory in London. Jan Munroe is assistant manager at the Augusta, Me., outlet of Grossmans-Lumbcr & Building Materials Retail Stores. Says it's the last thing in the world she would have thought of doing, but life in Maine is very satisfying. Mary Ridout (SF) reports a magna cum laude degree from Marlboro College in June 1974, a ma<riage to Terry Applegate (SF '74) in September of that year, a part-time job as a bookkeeper, and a full-time, one-year program in architectural technology. Terry works in his 28 father's business while pursuing pre-med studies at l'vlichigan State University. Elizabeth Unger and James Carlyle were married last June in \Visconsin, spent the summer in Crystal City, Texas, where Elizabeth clerked for the county judge, and are now back in Cambridge, Mass. Jim is a "middler" at Episcopal Divinity School (on exchange from Nashotah House in \Visconsin) and Elizabeth is a second-year law student at Northeastern University. Vanessa Lynn ran Manen and Charles Frederick Gartrell were married last May. Until then, she had been employed as an analyst with Computer Science Corporation in Silver Spring, Md., working on projcts with NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center. Her husband is also an analyst with the company, as well as a graduate student at the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory. Lee H. Soloman represented St. John's at the inauguration of Margaret Waggoner as president of Wilson College, Chambersburg, Pa., on 27 September. 1974 Jon H. I-Iunner (SF) is currently working at the Commodities Exchange in Chicago. He travelled to New Mexico last summer to do a clown act at the Tierra Amarilla rodeo. 1975 A September note from Jim Jarvis says he is enro1led in medical school at the University of Vermont, where he earlier spent one undeigraduate year, but finds the weather difficult to become re-acclimated to: snow already in the mountains! Nancy Polk _and Christopher King were married on the Saturday after graduation in the backyard of her parents' home in Glen Cove, N. Y. Jim Tourtelott '73, Paul Fishleder '72, Jim Jarvis, Arthur Kungle '67, Charley Allen, Rick Plaut '77, Terry Schuld '78, and G. K. Bisllop were all there. Nancy now works as a copy editor for the Waverly PressWilliams & Wilkins Co., in Baltimore, while Chris drives an asphalt tank truck for the Lansdell Corporation of Maryland. Annette Tullier is living in TI1ibodaux, La., where she teaches science to 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th graders. "It is quite a job," to quote her letter. Bob Tzudiker writes that he and Seth Ginsburg share an apartment "in the heart of beautiful downtown Lower East Side New York." Bob is a working actor at the Jean Cocteau Repertory at 330 Bowery, ~nd opened recently in Twelfth Nigllt, cast as Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 1971 From Lutherville, Md., comes news of Bela Kissh, who spent the summers of 1973 and 1974 in Hungary and other parts of Europe completing research for his Ph.D. dissertation. 1972 Beverly (Ross) Smith, having returned from a year as a television writer in Rock Island, Ill., another year as a teacher in Gallina, N. Mex., and still another year as a bookstore proprietor in Santa Fe, is now the Graduate Institute's registrar. 1973 Both Jim and Alice Far1ey are teaching in Gallina, N.Mex. 1974 Paul Bitting became a married man soon after the completion of the 1975 Institute, during which he served as a staff member of the High School Workshop. Joe Pluci1inotta is directing a child-care center and teaching part time in Albuquerque, N.Mex. Continuing Students Bob McMahan is a classical accordionist. His playing of "Toccata for Accordion" appears on a recent record album of music by Ernst Krenek. This record is available for $2.00 from Orion Master Recordings, Inc., 5840 Busch Drive, Malibu, Cal. 90265. Bob's wife Anne is also a student at the Institute. She is the sister of Irving Williams '72. In 1974, W. Laird Durley applied for admittance to both the Graduate Institute and the undergraduate program in Santa Fe. He has now completed two summers in the Institute and is also a sophomore at Santa Fe. During a recent visit to Annapolis, Laird said he enjoys both programs and finds them complementary. In Memoriam 1900-Peter B. Belches, St. Louis, Mo., July 9, 1975. 1916-John A. Worthington, Ruxton, Md., October II, 1975. 1920-John M. Dawes, Annapolis, Md., October 7, 1975. 1922-Lyttleton L. Gray, Huntingtown, Md., September 15, 1975. 1932-Hugh F. Parker, Jr., Baltimore, Md., October 28, 1975. 1951-Thomas Jefferson Hamilton, Crystal River, Fla., October 27, 1975. GRADUATE INSTITUTE NOTES 1970 Director of the 1975 High School Workshop was Wendy Gray of Santa Fe. Faculty-Professor Vertrees Claremont, Cal., November (1924-39). J. Wyckoff, 13, 1975 �January, 1976 Nominations for the Board of Visitors and Governors THE NOMINEES For the second year, the Alumni Association is grateful to The College for aiding in the annual eleotion of two alumni representatives to the Board of Visitors and Governors. I hope that all alumni will want to cast their ballots in this election. The directors of the Association have nominated four candidates this year for the two vacancies which will be created in the spring as Julius Rosenberg and Thomas Stern reach the end of their three-year terms. Both alumni are eligible for reelection, and have been re-nominated. Two additional candidates have been named, Stephen Benedict and Sharon Bishop. Biographical data on all four nominees are listed in the column to the right. (There were no nominations by petition this year.) Provided below is a tear-off ballot for your convenience in voting. The By-Laws provide that a ballot be cast for two nominees in order to be valid. Please fill in and mail your ballot NOW, if possible; in any event, in time to reach the Alumni Office in Annapolis no later than 15 March. (If you wish to copy the ballot, in order to avoid cutting the magazine, please be sure also to copy the reverse, including the mailing label; this serves as a validation of the ballot. Husbands and wives should cast two votes on one ballot by noting thereon that it is a · double ballot.) William W. Simmons President Alumni Association Stephen Benedict, a 1947 graduate, is director of the Project in the Arts of the Council on Foundations. After college he wmked for the Committee to Frame a World Constitution and the Foundation for World Government then studied in Europe. He was a member of the Eisen: bower White House staff, spent several years with the U. S. Information Agency, and, before assuming his present position, was for fifteen years on the staff of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund. He is unmarried and lives in New York City. Sharon L. Bishop, a member of the class of 1965, received her degree from St. John's in 1966. She worked as a social worker and received a M.S.S. degree from Bryn Mawr College Gradmte School of Social Work and Social Research in 1970. Ms. Bishop joined the management consulting firm of Booz, Allen and Hamilton in 1972, and is currently a senior Associate in the Institutional and Public Management Division. She lives in Res.ton, Va. Julius Rosenberg, a graduate of the College in the class of 1938, is a staff member of the Associated Jewish Charities and Welfare Fund in Baltimore, Md. From 1968197! he was director of development in Annapolis. He served as treasurer of the Alumni Associa-tion from 1965 to 1967, and as its president in 1967-68. He and his wife Pearl live in Annapolis. Thomas E. Stern is a member of the first class to graduate from the Santa Fe campus, the class of 1968. He studied film and economics at Stanford University after graduation, and in 1971 received an M.A. degree. He is currently involved in films for television, both regular programs and documentaries, with special emphasis on lighting direction. He and his wife, Nora (Gallagher) SF70, make their home in New York City. DETACH HERE ALUMNI REPRESENTATIVES, BoARD OFFXCXAJL BAJLJLOT OF VISITORS AND GOVERNORS I hereby cast my ballot lor the two candidates indicated Stephen Benedict '47'---~ (a vote for two candidates is required to validate ballot): Sharon L. Bishop '65·----~ Detach and mail to: Alumni Office St. John's College Annapolis, Md. 21404 Julius Rosenberg '38•----~ Thomas E. Stern SF68•----~ �PLEASE ALUMNI SUMMER PROGRAMS Summer programs for alumni will be held again this year on both campuses. The Annapolis session will take place June 13-26, that in Santa Fe August 1-14. Complete information on tutors, readings, and administrative details will be sent to all alumni no later than March 15. Meanwhile, mark your calendars and plan to attend at least one session. These programs are open to all alumni and their spouses, including, of course, graduates of the Graduate Institute, plus former students of the Institute. Punuc NoTICE In compliance with the Family Education Rights and Privacy Act, St. John's College retains the right to publish at its discretion the following categories of information with respect to each student presently or previously attending the College: the student's name, address, telephone listing, date and place of birth, field of study, participa•tion in officially recognized activities and sports, dates of attendance, degrees and awards received, and the The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 It would be most helpful, and would save St. John's considerable money in the long haul, if you would let us know about an address change before it happens. And that would also help assure prompt, uninterrupted delivery of The College to you, as well as making life a bit easier for those who keep the mailing Jist for us. Your local Post Office can supply you with cards designed for address changes, or you can Jet us know in any way you wish. By whatever means, please do take a moment to notify us of your impending move. We will be most appreciative. T. P. Jr. most recent previous educational agency or institution attended by the student. Students have a right to inform the College within a reasonable period of time that any or all of this so-called "directory information" should not be released without their prior consent. Requests by students to suppress from public distribution the above-mentioned information are to be made an- nually. As required by the Act, St. John's College will provide public notice annually of its intention to publish such information. Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 28 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of College Relations Title A name given to the resource The College, January 1976 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1976-01 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zuckerman, Elliott Description An account of the resource Volume XXVII, Number 4 of The College. Published in January 1976. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_27_No_4_1976 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/b2f60b59f4f2917817c6a567373a1245.pdf 2364be201fa67486dce32c0f394ec635 PDF Text Text THE COLLEGE St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland Santa Fe, New Mexico April1976 �THE COLLEGE Vol. XXVIII April, 1976 Number 1 ON THE COVER: "Dejalo todo a Ia probidencia" (Leave it all to providence), a brush and black wash by Francisco Jose de Goya y Lucientes, one of the more than 100 master drawings in the collection of Mr. & Mrs. Eugene V. Thaw of New York City. Mr. Thaw is a graduate of the College in the Class of 1967. For more about the collection, see page 21. Editor: Beate Ruhm von Oppen Managing Editor: Thomas Parran, Jr. Editorial Advisory Board: William B. Dunham, Barbara Brunner Oosterhout '55, E. Malcolm Wyatt, Elliott Zuckerman. Spring Arrives in Annapolis THE COLLEGE is published by the Office of College Relations, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland 21404, Richard D. Weigle, President, William B. Dunham, Vice President. Published four times a year, in January, April, July, and October. Second class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at other mailing places. IN THE APRIL ISSUE: How Does One Cure A Soul?, by Wolfgang Lederer. I 12 The Collection of Mr. & Mrs. Eugene V. Thaw. 21 Alumni Profile: David Moss. Picture credits: Cover and page 21, lett, Eric Pollitzer; page 21, upper and lower right, Bruce C. Jones; pages 22-24, Israel Kayatsky. Excerpts from the History of the Desert Fathers, by Brother Robert Smith, F.S.C .. 22 Campus/Alumni News 25 �How Does One Cure A Soul? by Wolfgang Lederer, M.D. Before I do anything else, I think I should explain how I came by the title of my talk: A good friend of mine, a member of your faculty, invited me to come here and give a sermon-I mean: a speech; and I accepted, being, on the whole someone who loves to hear himself talk. But then the question arose: what should I be talking about? And your dean was consulted. He, as any good humanist would, reached right away for etymology: What would a psychiatrist-a psychhiatros, a healer of the soul, talk about, if not how one heals or cures a soul? So this was to be my topic and, having a profound respect for deans, I accepted without a moment's hesitation. Only when, later on, I began to think about the .matter more seriously, did misgivings arise: First, I tripped over the word, or the concept, of sout For despite all etymology, the term is not in common use in the fields of psychology or psychiatry-at least not in English. In German psychiatric writings the equivalent word, Seele, occurs quite frequently, and the old-fashioned terms for psychiatry and psychiatrist in German are, respectively, Seelenkunde and Seelenarzt. But on closer inspection it turns out that this use of the German term, Seele, really denotes what we commonly call the psyche, namely: the totality of mental and emotional functioning; whereas our feelings tell us right off that the soul cannot properly be defined that way, that soul, as used in literature, poetry and common parlance, is something more special, is both more and less than, the psyche. So we do not, in English, confuse the terms, and indeed, the only psychiatry books I could find which carry the term soul in the title are translations from the German. Thus Carl Gustav Jung wrote a series of essays which were eventually published under the ca-tchy title: Modern Man in Search of a Soul, but the soul does not appear in it except in the title. The creator of logotherapy, Viktor E. Frankl, authored a book entitled The Doctor and The Soul, which first came out in 1955 and is still well worth reading; and in it he expands the notion of psyche in a manner that does establish some overlap with the concept of soul. But the dilemma of psyche versus soul was most succinctly posed by one of the original apostles and apostates of psychoanalysis, Otto Rank, who in his book Psychology and The Belief in a Soul (1930) has this to say on the very first page: "Psychology is in a peculiar situation in that it not only knows nothing about its objec·t (e.g. the psyche), but in addition because it strenuously denies and rejects whatever tradition may have to offer it regarding its object." Psychology, he says, takes as the object of its study something the very existence of which it denies, and regarding which it therefore is duty-bound to remain ignorant. This, of course, is a semantic joke, and means merely this: that psychology studies the psyche, not the soul. But it confronts me very clearly with my own present predicament: since I know nothing about the soul I cannot in conscience either deny or affirm its existence; and not knowing whether the soul exists, how can I know it to be sick? And not knowing about the sickness of the soul, how can I possibly cure it? And further: if indeed I should perhaps, unbeknownst to myself, be engaged in the curing of soul, then how-considering the matter is never discussed in the psychiatric literature-how can I know whether others are equally employed-equal both as to l �The College methods and as to goals? In other words, lacking any sort of explicit consensus, how can I presume to speak in the name of the "ONE" of my title? So: HOW DOES ONE CURE A SOUL? Of this short sentence, all I am ignorant of is the subject, the object, and the predicate. What a way to start! But start I must-since I have given my word; and start I did-with a review of all that the word and notion soul has meant in the past. But I shall not burden you with that. I shall not speculate with you whether there be jus.t one all-encompassing world soul, or whether there are many souls. I shall not discuss the nature of the soul, whether it be material or immaterial, nor its shape, whether it be that of a beetle, a wasp, a mo.th, a butterfly, a winged homunculus, or a ghost; nor whether it should be attributed to men only, or also to women; to animals, or also to plants-or even to inanimate things, whether tangible like a rock, or intangible like fire and wind. No, and for the case that we are speaking strictly of man, I shall not attempt to discuss with you whether souls existed for ever, or only since the creation of Adam, or are created specially for each body; and if the latter, I shall lose no time over the exact moment the soul enters the body, or where, or how; nor where in the body it resides, and whether, at the death of the body, it dies too, or survives; and if the latter, whether it migrates to another body, or remains immaterially itself; or whether its immortality is automatic and assured, or must be earned, or is available only through the grace of God. No, I shall not mention whether the soul must expect punishment after the death of ,the body, or can itself, as a revenant, inflict punishment on the survivors; nor shall I worry whether soul can be acquired by eating, or by taking of heads or scalps, nor whether, in any human being, there be one soul or many, whether these be both male and female, and what qualities can be discerned and attributed to the potts. No, aU these matters I must leave properly to Religion and Philosophy and Anthropology. But I can, in consideration of all the above, confidently sum up and state a highly important fact, namely: that the soul, as concept, has occupied the minds, the attention and the imagination of all people, at all times, to an extraordinary degree. And I can, in my own competence as psychiatrist, pose the important question as to what it may be in man that impels such a pervasive concern. And so, looking back over all ,that I have refrained from discussing with you, I find as the one common denominator that the notion of soul, in every instance, expresses the belief in and the longing for a connection between the individual and something more than himself. It is the soul, in Western belief, that links man and God; or in so~called primitive, animistic societies, that links man and nature. It is the soul, in Shinto belief, that links man to his ancestors and his progeny, and in Hindu belief, to generations of living things past and future. And insofar as the soul, whether through Karma or the weigh2 ing of the dead or through purgatory becomes the recipient of punishment for evil deeds, it is also the link between the individual and the moral code of the society within which he has his being. But it is more, as we can see when we listen to our own language: What is more soulful than the gaze of a lover? What more soul-shattering than unhappy love? The eyes are the windows of the soul, but even a dog, though he may have no soul, can look with soulful eyes, provided only that what shines through them be neither hate nor fear, nor any other nega·tive sentiment such as depression or envy, but only love, and love only. And once more in German, the adjective derived from the word for soulselig-denotes a state of ecstasy associated only with love -whether love for a woman, a man, the world, or God. It is the soul that loves, or better: the soul is that in us that loves, and so it is that which most closely binds the self to the other. By way of example, let me remind you of the concept of the shekinah among the Hasidic Jews, the shekinah being the soul of God, a world soul, a mediator between God and man and capable of penetrating man, so that God and man may have part of each other; and it is on the Sabbath, when man and wife traditionally engage in the act of love, that the shekinah hovers over them, and thereby their union is at the same time a union nf man and God, and for one blessed moment the world and God, through love, are one, and all's well with the world -a concept very similar to the tenets of tantric Hinduism. And consider, by contrast, that a poor soul is always a lonely person who is unloved, for we would never call a man or woman~ no matter how poor in material terms, a poor soul, so long as someone loved them; and that a lost soul is not just someone all alone, but someone dropped from the fabric of human involvement, and out of touch with God. And so I have, after all, arrived at a definition of soul which I, as psychiatrist, can work with, namely: that aspect of the self which demands that the self relate to something more than itself, which makes the self abhor being alone. In biblical terms, this defines for me when the soul was created, namely: in the second chapter of Genesis, verse 18, when the Lord said: "It is not good that the man should be alone." True, according to the Bible the Lord created then, not a soul, but a woman. But we have always tended to think of the soul as feminine-even the shekinah, the soul of God, is feminine, hence a feminine aspect of God-and poetically men have addressed their beloved quite easily not only as "my love" but also as "my soul"- (though women do not address men that way)and a pahician Roman quite commonly and traditionally addressed his spouse as udulcis anima" -my sweet soul. But let me not be tempted to stray into the intriguing topic ·of woman as the soul of man, and of woman as saving man's soul, as Gretchen saved the soul of Faust- �April, 1976 for this would lead us into pastures so rich we would quite forget our proper topic, and that must not be. So let me restate quite briefly: the soul is that which binds the self to the other, and any attempt to cure the soul must concern itself with whatever hampers this, its basic function. Before proceeding, let me try and clarify matters fmther by stating briefly what, of the topics pertinent .to psychiatry, I shall therefore not discuss: I shall not discuss the mind: neither the defects of it as in mental deficiency, nor the faulty functioning of it as in the schizophrenias or in accidentally or intentionally induced .toxic states: for all these have to do with the body, and not with the soul, and are treated by treating the body-which means, for most purposes, by medication. Nor will I deal with those disturbances of the emotions which, as in manic-depressive illness or again in the schizophrenias, seem to come from within, and not in response to outer events: for these again arise from the body, and are best handled by therapies appropriate to the body. In a way, I regret this exclusion: for it is precisely in these areas that my field has registered the most solid advances. You are all, I tvust, fumiliar with Macbeth's appeal to the physician, as Lady Macbeth lay troubled with thick-coming fancies that kept her from her rest: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? The poor doctor had to reply: Therein the patient must minister to himself to which Macbeth answers, somewhat illogically, as upset people will: Throw physic to the dogs, I'H none of it. Well, today we have physic which, if taken faithfully, will do pretty well against seeing blood on clean hands, and daggers floating through .the air, or such like vapors. But these, as I said, are of the body, and our concern is the soul, the treatment of the soul or, as we say today: psychotherapy. Now you may well object and say: are not body and soul inseparably commingled-at least in life-and is it valid to treat one without .the other? And you are right to object, for indeed: they must be considered together, and neither may the physician of the body neglect the soul-if, indeed, he is a true physiciannor must the psychotherapist proceed as if the body were of no significance. But the approaches are different: The body, being part of biology and nature, can be s•tudied scientifically. And by science I mean the quantitative study of repeatable and repeated, hence statistical, phenomena involving relatively few variables and minimal participation of the observer in the observed process-an objective study validated by the eventual ability to predict the outcome of the events under study with a high degree of accuracy and probability. Such studies can be made of the body and if, for instance, a person complaining of lethargy and aversion to cold weather should be found to have an abnormally low blood-level of thyroid hormone, then it can be predicted with a high degree of certainty that he will feel much better shortly after the institution o.f thyroid replacement therapy. Some aspects of the psyche can also be studied scientifically, and to this end psychological tests have been designed. Such tests can, for instance, differentiate with a high degree of reliability between phenomena which may resemble each other but are essentially different, such as depression and organic brain pathology. But they do not measure the soul, and by and large are of little help in the treatment of the soul. For in the treatment of the soul, we deal altogether with phenomena which are neither quantifiable nor repeatable: you cannot quantify how much you are in love, nor is any friendship or any grief ever identical to any other. Every personality is quite unique, of every self it can be said that it has never existed before, nor wiH ever exist again. Hence predictability is minimal; in the absence of reliable objective criteria an objective approach is impossible, and so the involvement of the therapist"observer is personal, intense, and quite inevitable. Am I then saying that psychotherapy is not a science? Quite so. But then-what is it? It is an art, much like painting, and it is learned and practiced much the same way. The psychotherapist, just like the painter, cannot learn from a book-he can only learn from the example of a master; and he must spend many years studying the basic rules of the art, the craf.t underlying the art, as his master or his masters practice it. He must be able to copy the master, and he must even" tually differentiate himself from the master, in order .to make the best possible use of his tools and his medium which, for the therapist, consist of his own personality. It follows that no good ·therapist functions exactly like any other, and therapies, by different therapists, even with the same pa-tient, do not resemble each other any more than two paintings of the same object, done by two different masters. In therapy as in painting there are schools of thought and of style, but here as there a good artist will never be totally defined by the school to which he belongs, and will leave his own characteristic signature on his work. There are, of course, important differences between painting and therapy. Thus painting can give the illusion of three dimensions, but it cannot portray the passage of time; whereas in therapy it is precisely the phenomena of growth and change which are most important, so that in this regard therapy is more akin to the study of history. History is, after all, no science either, but must place its pride in the collection of facts which can never be complete, and in their most meaningful selection and interp;:e- 3 �The College tation-knowing full well .that the facts can also be selected and ordered in other ways, and that other interpretations may be equally valid. But as compared with history, therapy has a distinct advantage in that it can apply its understanding, and establish fairly rapidly whether a given interpretation of historical facts is relevant in the sense that it brings about a change in the patient. Lest all this sound too theoretical, let me give you an example: Some time ago a man in his thirties came to my office in great distress: he was a physician with a thriving prac· tice, a lovely wife and three bright and healthy children. He should have been happy, as happy as any man could expect to be. But his entire existence was threatened and possibly doomed by a series of extramarital affairs he had got into he did not know how-affairs he did not seek but apparently could not prevent. They had gone on for years, but lately his wife had found out, and she was now threatening divorce. The good doctor felt that his entire world was about to crumble. Clearly, he could not undo the past, but whether the future would be happy or miserable would depend on whether he could suppress what he considered his "inordinate sexual appetite." So we studied his past, patiently and in detail, much as a portrait painter studies not just the appearance, but the personality of his subject. And in time the relevant facts began to stand out from the total pattern of his life: He had no conscious memory of his father, a travelling man who had died in an accident when my patient was only five years old. His mother told him how handsome and strong the father had been, that she had worshipped him even though there had been many a fight. Following his father's death, my patient lived alone with his mother, but when he was ten years old she married a wealthy man considerably older than herself. Her second husband was a kind and gentle man and a good provider, but she more or less overtly disliked and despised him, and the boy never accepted him as a father. As he grew up, he did well in his studies, was popular with his peers and enjoyed the distinction of being voted "the most handsome boy in his high school." He had many girl friends, all of whom he presented to his mother, and she received them kindly; only when, in his last year of college, he introduced to her his future wife, did mother tum cold. She did not come to his wedding. During the next several years he enjoyed an almost ideal marriage, but suffered from the estrangement with his mother. When he visited her, she was scornful, and often used a vulgar term which stung his soul: she said he was (excuse me) -"pussywhipped" -meaning, of course, that he was too subservient •to his wife, that he was not acting like a real be-man. One day, as he came to his mother's house, he found there an old girl friend of his. She had been married but was now divorced, and he understood immediately that his mother had invited her in order that he might meet her once again. He felt that his mother was challenging 4 him to make use of an evident sexual opportunity, and when s'he pointedly left the two of them alone in her house, he did so. He did not continue to see that particular girl, but the episode seemed to be the starter for all the escapades which followed. In each instance the encounters were sudden and brief, and each time he thought he only did what any red-blooded be-man would naturally do; yet he was also dimly aware that he did not really enjoy himself, but felt somehow compelled to act as he did. Following each such encounter he left as fast as he could and practically fled home to his wife, much in need of consolation for a distress he of course could not explain to her. Finally, and for the first time, it happened that he felt the stirrings of love for one of the girls he slept with. This frightened him so badly that on the following night, having had much to drink, he told his wife all a·bout it. Her explosive reaction brought him to my office. As I have said, the relevant facts emerged only gradually, but once they were, so to speak, out on the table, like so many pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, he himself had little trouble putting them together. It became clear that his mother-and, incidentally, his grandmother, too-had liked their men, as they say South of the Border: muy macho. Mother's father had already been a man of violent virility and many conquests; she had adored him, and later chose for herself a similar husband-whom she equally adored, though she quarrelled with him viciously when she was sick with jealousy. His death, it turned out, was not exactly an accident, but involved a fight with an outraged husband. After that, my patient's mother, having earlier replaced her idolized father with her husband, now set out to replace her husband with her son. The boy did in fact come to resemble his father to such an extent that snapshots taken of them at comparable ages could hardly be told apart; and in due course he began to live up to his mother's expectations of machismo. But since history never really repeats itself, he was not truly like his father: he was much smarter, more capable and more ambitious; and above all he had a need, not for philandering, but for a close and lasting relationship. There were only two women who ever mattered to him: his mother, and his wife. He wanted to make both of them happy, but unfortunately their needs were incompatible. He now understood why he had always experienced his infidelities as a compulsion, meaning: as a force acting from within, but alien to the self. He realized that the alien will had been the will of his mother, whom he was trying •to please, whose scorn he was trying to disarm. Once this was clear, he could recognize his infidelity as arising not from sexual desire but from a conflict of loyalties between mother and wife; and having posed the dilemma in this fashion, he had no difficulty resolving it. He had, after all, once before consciously decided for his wife. I am glad to report that the supposed temptations have vanished, and that his marriage is, once again, as �April, 1976 nearly ideal as anyone has a right to expect. So in this manner, in this particular instance, was an illness of the son!, a disturbance of loving, cured. I chose the example at random, not because it is typical, but because no example, and no number of examples, would be typical. Typical is only the careful and patient study of historical facts that can eventually be used to define a particular self or a particular soul; and that, despite the lack of scientific method, such a study can help to determine in what manner this particular soul is ill and what needs to be done-by the patient himself-to restore it to health. But in stressing the uniqueness of each soul and of the needs of each soul, am I saying that no general statements as to this maHer can be made a:t all? Surely not. It is one of the great paradoxes we live with that, no matter how different we are, we are also in some ways highly similar. To these similarities, as to the soul and its needs, I shall now briefly address myself. It is not good, the Lord said, that man should be alone. And how is man not alone? Is it enough that there should be other men and women around him? But one can be terribly, howlingly alone in a crowd; and conversely, one can feel quite securely related even when one is by oneself, provided only that one be engaged in some purpose somehow transcending the self, provided one have some function with regard to God or man. And because, as it seems, we have been created-or have evolved-as social animals, therefore a meaningful context for us is by and large constituted by a group of fellows organized into some kind of social order. Whether we are considering a family, a tribe, a school, a gang, a country, or whatever, we are defined, we define ourselves, in terms of our belonging to that group, and such definition is the more clear and the more helpful the more we have a function in that particular social matrix. In fact, and again regardless of whether our frame of reference be something as small as the family or as large as humanity as a whole, our entire sense of meaning is derived from the role we play, the services we render in that context. And so, if the soul is that within us that needs to reach out to something beyond ourselves, then it is also that aspect of our awareness that demands and furnishes a sense of meaning; or that, conversely, if we permit our life to be meaningless, precipitates us into the most painful sense of depression and gloom. It was the merit of the existentialist philosophers to posit meaning as a categorical imperative for the individual, and of Viktor Frankl, with his logotherapy, to have introduced it as a major parameter in psychotherapy. The need to belong, the drive for integration into a social context, used to be taken care of as a matter of course. A boy or a girl born into a tiny aboriginal tribe find their life's context ready defined for them: they are of such a people who have such a name, and they walk in the footsteps of father or mother or of the teachers of their chosen occupation, and all their actions from childhood to grave are prescribed for them by precedent, and derive their meaning precisely from the more or less ritualistic re-enactment of precedent. Only yesterday the family was still, for better or worse, the primary base of operations, the primary reference point and purpose; only yesterday, patriotism was an uncontested ideal, and to live and die for the fatherland was sweet; and similarly, one could belong to a well-defined class with its own pride and ambition, its own grievances and struggles. Today we are not so lucky. Today, sociologists can argue whether classes still exist, and how they are to be defined; countries are more numerous than ever before, but the usefulness of patriotism is everywhere in question. Governments can be trusted less than ever, wars are unjust, presidents turn out to be petty criminals. And the family is in disarray or possibly dissolution. Well, it may help a little to read that Plato, Tacitus, Seneca all said as much about their own times, and that there was hardly a period in history when Cicero's "0 tempora, o mores/" would not have applied. However, it is probably true that certain needs of the soul are today in particular danger of not being met, are particularly difficult to meet. What are they? They go by a number of designations which-and that is already important and indicative of something-today sound old fashioned.* l discuss them almost apvlogetically. For instance: If one is to be a member of an order of any kind, one needs to know one's exact place in that order, one needs to know and be able to say where one fits in. This is, in the first instance, achieved through what one does; but within each occupational category it is broug'ht about through some kind of ranking. Such ranking may be tacit and purely functional, or it may be explicit, official, and manifested through titles. But whether we are talking of the Mafia, or of a business corporation, or of academic research or whatever: as members, we need a place in the hierarchy just as surely as a chicken in the barnyard needs a place in the pecking order; and if we are denied such a clear place-and experimentally even armies have at times tried to get along without rank or hierarchy-then we feel insecure and restless until, as inevitably as t-he sun rises, leaders and followers emerge, and lieutenants to leaders, and messengers for the lieutenants-and in no time the hierarchy is re-established after all. And from this need for hierarchy, which prevails even in such emphatically anarchic assemblies as the modern communes, derive some further needs: * In the fo11owing I am leaning heavily on Simone Weil' s essay "The Needs of the Soul," in the book: The Need for Roots (Harper Colophone ed. 1971), She was not a psychiatrist, but she understood a great deal. 5 �The College The first of these, though clearly implied in the need for hierarchy, is the need for obedience. Any administrator in whatever organization will of course consider as selfevident that command and obedience are two sides of the same coin, and that all positions on the hierarchical ladder comprise both functions; even the top man must be able to be obedient, namely to the laws and ideals of his organization; even the bottom man has to be able to command, namely himself, to carry out his assigned duties. On this basis we could consider obedience more of a necessary evil than a need of the soul, but a need it is, and becomes apparent particularly during times of acute threat to an established order, during times of such disorder that an established hierarchy is seen as about to fail. I have rather vivid memories of such a time, and perhaps you will permit me to remind you of it, for it is really not all that long ago. I grew up in Vienna, in the twenties and thirties; and those, in Austria, were years of revolution and more or less open civil war, of much confusion and unrest and marching back and forth. There were still many survivors of the days of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, and one of them was my professor of Greek, a giant of a man with a white mane and Jovian features who would pound the desk with his huge, pink, manicured hand and shout at us in glee the words of Odysseus: Ouk agaton polykoiranie, heis koiranos esto Heis basileus ... (Iliad, II, 204) No good is the rule of many, one should be ruler, one king ... and we smiled indulgently-for he was a lesser aristocrat, a Freiherr von .. ."-and so we could understand, though of course not share, his yearning for a return of some Habsburg to the no longer existing throne. His 41 ravings were innocuous. But at that very same time, in Italy and Germany, things were happening nobody should have smiled at: In Italy, they said "Mussolini ha siempre ragione" -Mussolini is always right; and they chanted, in delirious unison, the fascist slogan: "Credere, obbedire, combattere!" -believe, obey, fight! They loved to obey, but not half so much as the Germans, who at that time were screaming "Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuehrer/"one people, one country, one leader! And: "Fuehrer befiel, wir folgen Dir"-Leader command, we follow you, we obey you! And it was, in Italy as in Germany, not the few, it was the vast majority of the population that, from fear of disorder, joined in a veritable orgy of obedience. Will Durant said somewhere: When freedom destroys order, the need for order will destroy freedom. That is of course exactly what did happen in those countries then, as well as in Russia, and it has since happened in China, and has and will happen in many other countries, and could happen here. Granted, there are other important issues also involved, the need for food and physical security prime among them; but the need for obedience becomes manifest when it is denied, and by the deep satisfaction, the -occasionally delirious joy expressed when it is once again met. It cannot be ignored, or starved, 6 except at grave risk. I have discussed the need for obedience as a need of the soul, but in the secular realm. In the spiritual realm it has never been ignored: obedience to the will of God, or obedience to some spiritual discipline, has at all times and in all religions been experienced not only as profoundly comforting, but as a state of happiness transcending all others. But obedience must not be equated with submission. Obedience is not a passive, but an active mode, and as such implies a further need of the soul, namely: responsibility. One is not only spoken to, but one answers, one responds, and how one responds, how one is responsible, is a matter of personal skill and experience and willpower and judgment, hence a manifestation of individual freedom. What I described as obedience above, in the con· text of totalitarian regimes, was no doubt in part submissiveness; whereas obedience properly speaking is, as Paul Tillich phrased it: "an informed consent limited by the scrutiny of a vigilant conscience." Hence voluntary, as contrasted to forced, obedience includes the possibility, and occasionally the duty, to disobedience. As you no doubt recall, this became an excruciating issue most recently during the Vietnam war, when the conscience of many a good man forbade him obedience to the orders of his own government. To respond to an order, or an assignment, or to any- thing we accept as a challenge, in terms of our own conscience- this is exercising responsibility, and it is a need of the soul; wherefore those conditions of life which minimize or eliminate responsibility-such as childhood, slavery, or the status of a disenfranchized minority-are considered inferior and, in the adult, degrading to the point of being insufferable. In a revolution-whether this be by a people against a tryant, or by a youngster against his parents-the primary goal is always to throw off the yoke of oppression; it is not always kept in mind or even considered that the secondary but ultimately more i\n. portant task lies in the free assumption of the responsibili· ies of freedom. Yet nnless the second goal is achieved, victory is transient and can only lead to renewed oppresSIOn. The exercise of responsibility, in turn, must be usefnl to the community, and thereby acquires its meaning. How much the son! needs to feel useful is clearly apparent in the case of the unemployed, or the retired: who, in favor· able cases, may be receiving sufficient funds to have an assured livelihood, but who nevertheless are constantly endangered by that grave sickness of the soul which is called depression. And though their numbers are less, it is worth mentioning that the idle rich suffer from the same predicament, and are equally demoralized thereby; wherefore alcoholism is as much of a problem in the great mansions as in the slums. But further: because the soul is rarely self-assured, it is not content to be responsibly and usefully employed, it �April, 1976 also wishes to be recognized in that capacity. So that rewards and honors and respect are needs of the soul as well as, conversely, punishment; and as to the meting out of honors and of punishment, it is a need of the soul that this should be done with ;ustice. Ami again, such need becomes most clearly apparent where it is not met, as when a minority of people are excluded from the honors available in the community as a whole; or wherever authority is exercised without regard to justice. For this leads, in the deprived, to bitterness and hate; and in the privileged, to arrogance and irresponsibility: all of which are sicknesses of the soul that cannot fail but infect the whole order and eventually destroy it. And this brings us to another group of needs, which are antithetical to the first, and in balance with them. For while the soul needs to belong to an order, it must at the same time safeguard itself as itself, lest it dissolve in the community to the point of becoming a non-entity. The self which gives unhesitating, uncritical consent to the group has thereby abdicated responsibility, it no longer functions as a complete or whole self, it has lost its completeness, its integrity. We can, if we must, lose one or several parts of our body, and still be ourselves; and in that sense physical integrity is peripheral to our being. But if we lose moral integrity we are sick in the soul, and we know it and suffer from it to such an extent that few of our psychic efforts are as frantic as those attempting to conceal our lack of integrity from ourselves. And yet these efforts never succeed altogether; and to the extent to which we must acknowledge lack of integrity we know ourselves .to be sick at the core of our being. It is because of the need for integrity that we need freedom: not only freedom to decide on consent or dissent; but freedom from the constant presence and pressure of the community, so that we can think quietly, and consider our decisions, and maintain a feeling of our selves as over against the group. It is, therefore, a need of the soul to have privacy, or, in a modern term: territory. The soul needs its own territory, both literally and figuratively: a "space" of its own-whether that be a room with a door that closes, or a walk through the woods, or just a few moments before falling asleep: but at any rate a space of silence, unintruded, when the soul can converse with itself. And again, the need becomes most clearly manifest where it is not met: as, for instance, under conditions of inevitable crowding, as in a slum, or in a jail. It has been said by survivors of concentration camps who had been exposed to all the horrors the mind of man can invent, that the total lack of privacy, even for one second of the day, constituted one of their most acute sufferings, a pain so severe that it was like a toothache in the soul. And so we can say that the soul needs to belong, and to be apart, and that the proper balance of these needs, while difficult, will be most conducive to its health. Now all the needs I have discussed so far are, in a sense, horizontal: they are the needs, at any given moment, with regard to the human environment surrounding the self. There are needs in other dimensions, of which you are well aware: the spiritual need to have some form of relatedness to God, or to the world as a whole; the need for tradition, for a rootedness in the history and mythology and in the customs of the group to which we belong, a rootedness that goes back in time and makes us participants and inheritors of something of value. In this regard we have a special problem in the United States, in that so many of the immigrants either lost or intentionally rejected the traditions of the "old country." The result of this loss, with its attending unsettledness, is usually felt two or three generations later, when there emerges in now true-blue Americans an apparently spontaneous itch to learn more about their countries of ancestry, to visit them if possible, to see if kinship can still be felt. Or else there appears an effort to construct new traditions, an emphasis on anything which has acquired a bit of duration and history, as exemplified by the growing profusion of antique stores or even by the only half-;ocular advertising that may say: "Serving hamburgers in this location since 1973." In a more serious vein, we see the recent emphasis on Black history, the sudden interest among totally americanized Orientals for Chinese art. The soul, indeed, needs to be cminected, not just in the horizontal now, but also in the depths of the past, and in the heights of the spirit. But I am to talk, not as a philosopher, but as a clinician. And so it is high time that I begin to discuss, not just the needs, but the illnesses of the soul, and their symptoms, and how I encounter them. And there, looking over all the patients I have seen during the last twenty years, I can say that most of them have this in common: that, with regard to some specifics or on the whole, they think little of themselves: they have low self-esteem. And that, to one degree or another, they suffer from depression or anxiety or, sometimes, from both. Now you have all read in books of psychology, and are aware of the effects of childhood traumata, and the complicated structure of the mind, and the intricate workings of psychodynamic forces, and the amazing mechanisms of symptom-formation; and all of that, or much of it at any rate, is quite true and of great importance for the psychotherapist. But with regard to depression and anxiety, which are .the two basic symptoms of the ailing soul, there is a simple and highly useful generalization to be made, namely: that they are the poles of the human existence, that we quite normally fluctuate and oscillate between the two, and can consider ourselves lucky if we never, to any serious and harmful extent, fall into either. Thetc is a memorable hexameter, well kuown to students of Latin, which goes: Incidis in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim and it describes admirably the human predicament. The Charybdis, as you recall, was a whirlpool in the straits of 7 �The College Messina, and whosoever got too close to it was sucked under and down into the nether darkness, ship and all; whereas the Scylla was a fearful, six-headed monster, capable of grabbing a sailor with each of its dragon-mouths at one bite. It was between these two that seafarers had to sail their ships through the straits, and they were likely to fall into the clutches of the one while trying to avoid the other. When Odysseus was about to attempt this venture, Kirke the sorceress advised him of the danger, counselling him to steer close to Scylla, the dragon, rather than risk the sucking whirlpool. And she was right: for the Scylla, that many-toothed, many-headed monster, is a perfect allegory for anxiety and fear; and Charybdis with its downward sweep into darkness as excellent an image of depression; and the seavoyage, finally, an ancient symbol for life itself. And what the image conveys to us is this: that if we withdraw from what is frightening, if we give in to anxiety, then we fall into depression, a state of being experienced as being dark and downward, utterly without hope or exit, leading only to death; whereas, if we wish to emerge from depression, we have to face anxiety once again-a frightening prospect but one offering a chance at the future, a chance of survival, of success. This predicament can also be seen in terms of the challenge-of most any challenge: accepting it involves fear and anxiety, backing off from it leads to depression. The proposition holds regardless of whether the challenge involves a physical danger, as in climbing a mountain, or in battle; or a social danger, as in the taking of an examination; or a purely internal danger, as in living up to-or failing to live up to-a promise given to oneself. And so Kirke was right, and is right to this day: given the existential choice between depression and anxiety, the only viable decision is to risk the latter. But perhaps it is high time for me to give you another clinical illustration. Alright. I am choosing, again more or less at random, a man in his thirties who came to me in a state of deep despondency and self-contempt. He was an officer in a corporation, highly skilled in his work, though not as high in rank as he felt he should be. In his personal life he described himself as materially comfortable, but socially isolated and friendless. After some weeks of therapy he presented the following dream: 41 1 am in a railway station, in a waiting room marked: departure. My father is giving me numerous pieces of baggage, I don't know how I am going to take them all. Then it starts raining, and I hold my umbrella over a girl walking by-I experience this gesture as hypocritical." Through his associations to this dream the following emerges: His father, a highly irascible, opinionated, bigoted autocrat had, until a few years ago, run his life. He had indeed at times given him presents, such as large sums of money, but always insisted on telling him what to do with them. My patient had increasingly experienced these gifts 8 as burdens. In the last discussion with his father matters involving property had again come up, but this time in the context of an eventual inheritance: what my patient could expect to receive once his father had departed this world, an event for which he would surely not have to wait very much longer. The waiting room marked "departure" thus acquired a double meaning-on the one hand the awaited departure of the father, on the other hand the life-journey of my patient, a journey on which he would have to take along baggage given him by his father which he felt to be a burden. But the full meaning of the dream emerged from the last element: holding an umbrella over a girl was the sort of thing his father would expect of him, it was part of the code of chivalry his father lived by and which he had impressed on his son. But the hypocrisy lay in this, that my patient was in no way interested in girls, but had a lifelong awareness of purely homosexual interests. The chivalrous behavior toward the girl was, in other words, one of the pieces of baggage the father was bequeathing to him and which was only a burden because, given his sexual inclination, it was hypocritical. This opened the way to the recognition of other pieces of "baggage" my patient had inherited from his father and taken along through life, and which were only burdensome to him: a snobbish elitism which made everyone he worked with-meaning: everyone he knew in our town-socially ineligible for him; an awe of powerful personalities such as his father, which made him live in dread of his superiors and curtailed his assertiveness, thus explaining his lack of promotion; and such a distrust of strangers, such a need to maintain a dignified front, that he had suffered in silence and isolation for years rather than risk consulting a psychotherapist. I then understood the deep blushes that would at times suffuse his face as visible expressions of his intense shame at revealing himself to me. You will recognize without difficulty to what degree, in how many different ways, his soul was sick and suffering. He had been, not so much obedient, as submissive to his father's values; he had lacked the courage for rebellion and so, conformist in his conduct, he could neither participate in his father's social circle-where everybody kept asking him when he would marry-nor in a homosexual society, the members of which would automatically be unacceptable to his father. Because he demanded a degree of integrity of himself, he could not have any friends-for he would not trust anyone with the truth of his feeling, and in that sense would have to deceive them. As a consequence, he not only lived in total social isolation but, in time, convinced himself that he was truly incapable of loving. Professionally, though he had status in a hierarchy and responsibility, he had no honors, and he perceived the punishment meted out to him-the lack of promotion -to be unjust. He fell into ever deepening despair, and it was this despair itself, when he felt that nothing could be worse, which finally gave him the courage to consult �April, 1976 someone like myself. But before I say a word or two about the principles of therapy with a man such as this, I should like to present to you the case of a much younger fellow, as it may interest you more immediately: This patient, in his early twenties, came to me in a state of depression so profound he could hardly speak; he did indicate that he felt life to be totally meaningless, that he only wished to be dead. He did not have the slightest expectation that I could help him, he came because his parents wished him to, he himself had no hope whatever. The history which emerged in time was this: He had been an exemplary student in grammar. and junior high school, popular with his fellows, a leader in every way. His parents had been proud of him: they were gentle and intelligent people whose main endeavor was to offer him every possible opportunity and not to stand in his way. They themselves were politically active, but though they were deeply involved in the social issues and causes of the day, they carefully refrained from pushing their values on him. His trouble started in high school: without apparent cause he became withdrawn, his grades suffered, he lost interest even in mathematics and music, his best subjects. In his senior year he felt that he was wasting time and left school before graduation. He travelled to Europe, hoping to live by his own efforts, but the project was ill prepared and pursued without conviction, so that he soon had to return horne. During the following years, obedient to expectations, he attended a number of colleges, majoring this time in religion; but he only went through the motions, remaining shut off from reality, he said, as if by a pane of frosted glass. On two occasions he had required psychiatric hospitalization. By the time he came to see me he was halfheartedly trying for a bachelor's degree at a local college-a goal which to him had no meaning whatever. Nothing he could do, he said, would ever be sufficient. Sufficient for what? For whom? This took some time to dig out. At long last he said: sufficient to meet the expectations of his parents. But they had never voiced any expectations? True enough. Yet by virtue of the very fact that they had always refrained from verbalizing demands-and because, in order not to influence him, they had neither scolded nor praised-it was left up to him to imagine what they wanted. He wished to be obedient to their demands, whatever they were; and out of their evident admiration for his scholastic brilliance, together with their persistent, though ineffectual, devotion to the betterment of mankind, he had synthesized his notion of what they really wanted of him: they wanted no less than that he save the world! He was deeply ashamed to admit it-yet that was what he felt to be his assigned task. And of course, he knew himself totally inadequate to it, he did not have the faintest notion how to begin and so he, for whom everything difficult had been easy, was suddenly face to face with the impossible. His reaction was to drop out, not just from the framework of society but, off and on, from reality itself. When he returned, he sought answers in the study of religion, but whatever it was he learned still failed to make him into the messiah he expected himself to be, and so he again abandoned all hope. It is possible that you will think his reaction quite absurd and exceptional; on the other hand you may know that we all start out in life with the secret conviction that we are all-powerful, a conviction we surrender bit by bit under the pressure of life-experiences-until there is usually nothing left of it but a few scattered remnants of magical thinking. It is therefore not rare for a child who is both spoilt and very gifted to carry his "omnipotence phantasies" into adolescence, and to have correspondingly high expectations of himself. 1bey are bound to confront him with overwhelming tasks, and you are probably well familiar with the feeling of utter helplessness which an overwhelming challenge can generate. In this context you may remember prince Hamlet's complaint: The time is out of joint: 0 cursed spite That ever I was born to set it right! That seems to be the plaint of many young people todayas indeed it has been many times in history. What makes it excruciating in our time is the fact that all the remedies which but yesterday one could look to with great hope and faith-the dazzlingly successful exact sciences, the promising social sciences, the inspiring fervor of various political ideologies-all these, in their recent application, only seem to have lifted our time out of joint more than ever, and there is at the moment no clear remedy that could be adopted by any but the most fanatical believers. And so the feeling of my young patient: that something must urgently be done to save the world, but that there is no apparent way of doing it-this feeling is today quite common. Among students it often takes the form of an inability: what can be done, it seems, has already been done or is being done by someone, and it is futile; whereas what needs to be done cannot be done at all. So they do not see how they can achieve integration into the social matrix, how their lives can ever acquire meaning; and according to their character they either, like my patient, get depressed, or they attempt to cover up their anxiety with all kinds of frantic activities-in which case, if they ever stop to reflect, they are haunted by the awareness of wasting time. So-what can be done about it? Or, in terms of my title: how does one cure a soul? The way I see it, there are two steps involved: the first is understanding, and the second is doing. The understanding is none other than the Delphic gnoti seauton-know thyself. It is still the basis of all our wisdom, and it is still as hard to come by as ever, and at 9 �The College best a partial achievement. But even a little bit helps: In the case of the homosexual executive, knowing that he had permitted himself to be guided by values of his father's which did not properly apply to him suggested for the first time the possibility of some alternate code of conduct more compatible with his needs. In the case of the student his formulation: "I must save the world," once made explicit and spoken out loud, became so clearly absurd that it could be abandoned; he could content himself with a more realistic and still most worthy goal, such as a return to higher mathematics. In this and in many similar ways an awareness of how one is blocked opens up the possibility for new actions; but do not think that it is easy to move from insight to change! The old patterns of perceiving the world and of acting in it, though flagrantly unsuccessful, die hard. They came about in the first place both in response to fears and anxieties and as defenses against them. An obviously self. defeating behavior pattern may yet, to the individual, be like a strong fortress the shelter of which he is loth to forego. Thus the young executive, though suffering bitterly from his isolation, was fully aware that this same isolation protected him from the emotional hurt that could come with relationships; and the student, in the very misery of his meaninglessness, was protected from the possible defeats his brilliance might suffer in the actual confrontation with a specific challenge. And so each of them was reluc· tant to forego the very sickness for which they sought a cure! Otherwise put: in emerging from the Charybdisdepression-they had to face the Scylla-fear. And that takes courage. Now courage, to my mind, is the most basic human virtue. And while, as a therapist, I can help my patients to gain understanding, I cannot give them courage. I can help to dispel some fears, I can assist in the analysis of some anxieties-but precisely if therapy goes well there comes inevitably the moment when the patient, determined on a change in his accustomed behavior, needs courage-and the courage must be his own. So it comes that most patients, having seen what they should do, begin to stall; and perhaps I can illustrate this best with another dream, this one told me by a girlstudent of psychology who was my patient-in part because her training required it and in part to relieve certain bothersome symptoms. The dream she related was the following: "I am in the basement of my family's home. With me are a young man and a young woman about my age. We know that there are antiques, probably Assyrian, in the bricks of the chimney. We decide to break them out and indeed, each brick contains a silver disk, inscribed and of antique origin. We assemble these disks into a mobile a Ia Calder. It is dazzlingly beautiful, but I now become aware that we are being mesmer- 10 ized by the mobile, and unless we escape rapidly, we shall never get out. The three of us hold hands, and with supreme effort we manage to emerge from the basement. I go to my father and say: I just barely managed to get out." You will surely see through some of this dream right away. The image of psychoanalysis as a form of archeology is an old one and has frequently been used by Freud-as my patient well knew. Even so, her particular version of the metaphor is exceptionally enticing, and fits the often amazing results of our research into her and her family's past. But it also conveys that the construction of shiny psychodynamic formulations out of the facts and memories she had unearthed had become for her a game she much preferred to reality: it had become a rewarding pastime, like playing the piano or going for a contemplative walk through the woods. By comparison, the reality about to confront her-a career as a clinical psychologistseemed to her a bit awesome: it would not only involve seeing patients all day long, but perhaps the simultaneous attempt at being a wife and mother. As the dream indicates, it took a real effort to give up the underground research-game and to force herself up into the light of day -into that daylight where for her psychology would become real work. In the dream she told her father: "I just barely managed to get out." In reality she told me: "I hate to leave therapy, but I must," and a few weeks later she did so. It was like a graduation ceremony for her, like a rite of passage: from the shelter of childhood, of school, of therapy, into "life." So courage is needed if the soul is to receive that which it needs to be healthy, namely: a meaningful position in the fabric of human involvement; and the examples I have given, of four people each trying to find his or her own particular way of life, illustrate the point. But while courage is needed to enter the social matrix and to maintain oneself there with integrity, an even greater courage may be required at the point where one has to face the loss of, the expulsion from, the accustomed context. In the last analysis, behind all fear and all anxiety there stand two great terrors: loss of sanity and loss of life. Anxiety always suggests the possible loss of control, threatens blind rage or blind panic, threatens madness. It is one of ·the great functions of the therapist to teach that anxiety is not harmful in and of itself, that one can and must learn to live with it and to proceed in the face of it, and that, the less one fears anxiety, the less anxious one will be. But anxiety is inevitable when an important context is ruptured: in case of severe illness, or the loss of a job; when a marriage comes to an end, or a career, or the life of someone who is close; when the end of one's own life comes into view. It is not surprising that retirement is dangerous, and sometimes fatal; nor that there develops frequently a passion for history in old age, or a resurgence of religious feeling. For the definitive withdrawal from one's life-context, which in other times and cultures was �April, 1976 given its own distinguished meaning and dignity, in our culture confronts the self with serious doubts: whether there will ever again be anything truly worthwhile; and whether, in retrospect, the life one has led was worth living. Both past and future are thrown into question just at the point where the horizontal relatedness has to be surrendered. The fear of meaninglessness tends to become acute precisely in the imminence of death: when I die, will I even be missed? Retired men cling to a few hours a week at the office; old women become anxiously concerned for their great-grandchildren; sick people make a ritual out of their medications and treatments and doctor's visits. The soul seeks a context-any context-anything but to face the possibility of an ultimate lack of context: Animula vagula, blandula Hospes, comesque corporis Quae nunc abibis in loca Pallidula, rigida, nudula; Nee ut soles, dabis jocos ... (Spartianus, Hadrian 25, Script. Hist. Augustae) Or, in Byron's translation: Ah, gentle, fleeting, wavering sprite Friend and associate of this clay! To what unknown region born Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight? No more with wanted humour gay But pallid, cheerless and forlorn ... Not even Emperor Hadrian, though a great and philosophical man, could face death without a shudder-why expect it of us lesser ones? The task of curing the soul of fear and trembling in the aspect of death is one of the hardest for the therapist, because more than any other it arouses his own fear. And yet, even the patient with a terminal cancer can still be comforted: perhaps best, and most traditionally, by the priest; but in our age when, it is said, God is dead, the psychotherapist has his function even there, at the deathbed: he can allay the panic that, in despair, wants to rub out the value of the past, of the lived life; and can remind the patient, at the hand of his own memories, that he has not lived in vain. And he can remind the trembling soul that, even if it is to vanish altogether, like a dream-even then this too can and must be accepted as part of the great order of things, of the self-same order of nature and of the universe which granted the soul its fleeting instant of being. Well then: Considering that, as I pointed out initially, I did not know what I was talking about, I did manage to talk for quite a while. And now that I have started, I could easily go on-but rest easy, I won't, I have tired your attention quite long enough. But as to the soul, and the curing of the soul, I find myself, thanks to your dean, in the self-same happy situation as Moliere's Bourgeois Gentilhomme who, as you recall, being tutored in order to overcome his abysmal lack of erudition, discovered to his surprise and delight that, quite unwittingly, he had been speaking prose all his life! TI1is is the text of a lecture given at St. John's, Annapolis, on 31 October 1975. Dr. Lederer is a psychiatrist who practices and teaches in the San Francisco area. His publications in print include Dragons, Delinquents, and Destiny (Monograph 15 of Psychological Issues, International Universities Press, Inc., New York, 1964), and The Fear of Women (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc., New York, 1968). ll �The College Excerpts From The History Of The Desert Fathers Introduced and Translated by Brother Robert Smith To T.M.Q.: e silice ignis. practise a life of prayer and asceticism. Thousands more who did not follow them admired and were influenced by The History of the Desert Fathers by Palladius is one of tl1e principal sources of our knowledge about early Christian monasticism. Palladius has been called the Herodotus of the desert monks. He deserves this title because he made journeys to the remote places where these ascetics lived, spent a long time with them, and wrote an account of what he saw. He also, like Herodotus, recorded not only all that he saw and could vouch for personally, but also what he had heard from other sources. After his years in the desert, Palladius became a bishop and was involved in the ecclesiastical and civil politics of his time. The book from which these lives are taken was written about 420 A.D. It is dedicated to a court official named Lausus, who had the title of Superintendent of the Imperial Apartments. Anyone who held that position con> trolled access to the emperor. In dedicating his book to him, Palladius is conscious of addressing someone of great influence. For example, a few years later a successor of Lausus was a determining influence in the convocation of the ecumenical Council of Ephesus. This Council settled questions of lasting importance for the church and the empire. It is mainly remembered for having decided tl1at Our Lady is the Mother of God. There were particular reasons for political concern about monks at the time Palladius' book was written. Monks had great significance in the minds of many citizens of the Empire. The earliest monks, starting with St. Anthony, had captured the imaginations of thousand of men and women who, for at least three generations, had been following St. Anthony's example in going off to the desert to monastic example. On some occasions, monks intervened directly in political matters by appearing several thousands strong to demonstrate in the streets of Alexandria. Palladius, in writing a book about these dwellers in the desert, was telling stories, some familiar and some probably new, about popular figures whom everyone had heard about. But he had a very particular reason for writing such a book when he did. His own hero and teacher is a man named Evagrius. He is important because he collected and synthesized the opin· ions about the spiritual life and the experiences of the famous monks. Many of these men were illiterate ;or opposed to learning and to writing books. One main source of our knowledge about their opinions are the writ· ings of Evagrius and of others who, like Palladius, had become his disciples. If this were the whole story, Palladius would be merely the witness to a famous and widely admired tradition of the early centuries of the church. But Evagrius, besides being the collator of the experienced wisdom of the desert monks, was also a proponent of a set of opinions, usually connected with Origen. They are of a special and quite heterodox character. Holders of these opinions were being prosecuted by church authorities at the time when Palladius' work appeared. A book that inserts lives of these suspected men amongst the biographies of the widely admired heroes of orthodox monasticism, and by implica· tion equates one group with the other, .has by its nature political implications. The doctrines that Evagrius taught, and which were 12 �April, 1976 later condemned by a church council, include the view that each man's soul exists before this life. Its present association with the body is the result of a fall from a primal unity with other souls, all of whom saw God and were occupied uniquely with him. Through inattention they fell off from this knowledge. These fallen souls are now either angels, men, or demons, depending on their degrees of remoteness from their original condition. The return to God, the vision of God, is possible to all. Bodies are given for that purpose. Knowledge obtained with the help of the senses contains hints of what lies behind nature and is a beginning of our climb back. Prayer and meditation on the Scriptures are other and more important means. What is essential is to separate oneself completely from all ordinary human concernsfamily, politics, earning more than a bare living-so that one may pass one's time in solitary prayer, meditation, and manual labor. When one tries to do this, one will be assailed by thoughts, that is, memories, which will incite one to turn away from the austere path one has chosen. These thoughts are catalogued by Evagrius in a book that has had great influence. The seven ledges of Dante's Purgatory derive from it, for instance. For Evagrius they are dangers that threaten our return to our natural position of sharing in a knowledge of the operations of the Holy Trinity. The Ascetics that Palladius tells us about are all at one stage or another of this return journey. He first meets Isidore, who weeps because he has to eat material food. His true food is a sight of things far from this world. In Palladius' account, Evagrius accuses of blasphemy the man who tells him that his father is dead. A soul that existed before this life and is temporarily in the body can acknowledge no man as his father. Potamiaena's edging herself inch by inch into heated oil is a triumphant assertion of how accidental the body is. All these stories have the fascination that comes from seeing people make stark choices. They take great risks for goals they believe in but cannot clearly see. Some see farther than others and so inspire those behind them. Palladius tells of Macarius in a way which shows that he served that role for many. None of his heroes or heroines are trivial. All are marvellous and strange. ' IsmoRE My first visit to Alexandria was during the second consulate of the great emperor Theodosius (now dwelling amongst the angels because of his faith in Christ). I met there a man named Isidore who was remarkable both in his practise and his knowledge. He was a priest and the director of the hospice maintained by the church of Alexandria. Rumor had it that his first youthful combats were fought in the desert. Sometime later I saw the cell he had occupied in the Nitrian mountains. He was seventy-five years old when I first met him and he had fifteen more years to live before death came peacefully to him. Right up to that moment he refused to wear clothes made of linen. The only exception was a covering for his head. He never visited a public bath nor ate meat. Nevertheless his body was so marked by grace that those who did not know his manner of life imagined that he ate only the finest food. It would take too long to describe the virtues of his soul. Let it suffice to say that he was kindly and peaceable to such an extent that all-even his enemies amongst the unbelievers-revered the shadow of this extraordinarily good man. His understanding of Holy Scripture and of the divine teaching was so profound that his thoughts often wandered and left him silent and unaware of the brethren when they were all assembled to share their evening meal. If they asked him what he had seen in his ecstasy, his answer was: "My thoughts carried me off. What I saw had hold of me. " I know from observing him that he often wept at table. When asked about this he explained (in my hearing): "It is a shame for a rational man to eat irrational food. Worse still for me who am called by Christ's generosity to live in a garden of delights." Isidore went to Rome twice, once with bishop Athanasius and later with bishop Demetrius. All the Roman Senators and the wives of many important men got to know him while he was there. When he died he left no will, even though he still had some of his fortune and a quantity of useful belongings. He left neither money nor goods to his two sisters (who were consecrated Virgins), but he entrusted them to Christ with these words, "He who created you will provide for you, just as He has for me." There were seventy women in the community to which his sisters belonged. I was young and vigorous at the time and wanted to take up the life of a solitary, so I asked his advic·o. He knew well how young colts should be trained and that young men do not need words or instruction as much as bodily discipline. So he took me to a lonely place five miles from town. 13 �The College DoRoTHEUS He left me in the charge of an ascetic from Thebes named Dorotheus. He had been living in a cave for sixty years. My instructions were to spend three years with this man. Isidore knew that his way of life was very austere and would overcome my passions. After the three years were up I was to return to Isidore for spiritual instruction. I was too weak to stay the whole three years. Finally, I left Dorotheus because the food he had me eat was disgusting and exceedingly dry. All day long in the desert sun he moved rocks and built cells along the sea shore for those not strong enough to build for themselves. Every year he completed another cell. f) One day I said to him: "Father, you are an old man. You are killing your body in this heat. Why?" He answered, "It kills me; I kill it." The truth is that he ate only six ounces of bread and some ears of a millet-like grain each day. He drank a proportionally small amount of water. I testify before God that I never knew him to rest his feet or sleep on a mat or bed. Instead he sat up all night weaving palm-leaf ropes to pay for the food he ate. I thought he might be doing all this just to impress me, so I asked about him of various of his disciples scattered here and there. I was glad to learn that he had lived in the same way from his youth on. He never purposely went to sleep. He would fall asleep sometimes while working at something or when he was eating. Sometimes he was so sleepy that the bread fell out of his hand and onto the mat. He was somewhat offended and said, "When you persuade the angels to sleep, you can convince their pupil also." One day a little before three o'clock (his usual time for drinking water) he sent me to the well to fill his drinking gourd. When I got to the well I found an asp in it. I stopped drawing water and ran -off to tell him. I said: 14 "Father, we are going to die. I saw an asp in the well." First he smiled. Then he looked at me seriously, shook his head and said: "Suppose the devils turn themselves into snakes and turtles and then fall into all the springs in the world. What will you do: give up drinking?" He went to the well, drew some water, and drank it on an empty stomach. Before doing this he said, "Where the cross has just passed, evil has no power." PoTAMIAENA Isidore told me a story that I ought to write down. He had heard it from blessed Anthony. It is the story of a beautiful servant girl named Potamiaena, who lived at the time of the persecutor Maximian. Her master tried time and again to seduce her. He made all sorts of promises without any result. At last he was so frustrated that he turned her over to the imperial governor of Alexandria on the grounds that she was a Christian. He accused her also of speaking disparagingly of the times in which they were living, and of the emperors for persecuting Christians. He gave the governor money and said: "If she will let me have her, don't punish her. If she won't, carry out the law. Don't let her live if she keeps on mocking my enslavement to her." To break her spirit the judge had various instruments of torture brought before the tribunal. One was a huge basin filled with pitch. He ordered the attendants to light a fire under it. When the pitch began to bubble and then come close t-o catching on fire, he offered her a choice. "Either you do what your master wants, or I will order you to be thrown into the basin." "I hope a judge is not going to ask me to destroy myself," she answered. He was enraged and ordered the attendants to take off her clothes and force her into the basin. V" '\ ... �April, 1976 Drawings by Anne Buchanan Crosby "If you have decided to punish me that way, order them by the head of the emperor of whom you 'are so afraid to let me put myself in slowly. You don't know Christ, but you'll see how much courage He gives." It took her an hour to sink little by li~tle into the pitch. She died when it reached her neck. DIDYMUS Many men and women in the church of Alexandria had achieved perfection. They are part of the meek who, Scripture says, will inherit the land. Such a man was the blind writer Didymus. I met him on four occasions during the years I spent in Egypt. He was seventy-five years old when he died. He told me that he lost his sight when he was only four years old, before learning to read or receive any instruction. Within him, though, he had a powerful teacher, his own conscience, and he became so completely rich in knowledge that the words of Scripture, "The Lord makes wise the blind" (Psalm 145.8), were fulfilled in him. He interpreted both the old and the new testaments word for word. By his careful attention and perceptiveness he grasped their meaning better than his predecessors. I was unwilling to recite a prayer in his cell one day when he pressed me to do so. So he said: "Blessed Anthony came here to visit me three times, and when I asked him to pray, he knelt down at once and didn't force me to ask him a second time. That is an example of obedience for you. If you really want to live a hermit's life as he did, you will be, like him, a good guest instead of a stubborn one." He also told me this: "One day I was gloomily thinking about that wretched persecutor the emperor Julian. I let the whole day and most of the evening go by without eating anything. Instead, while I was thinking :>bout him I fell asleep here in my chair and saw a vision of riders on white horses rushing by and shouting: 'Well, Didymus, Julian died today at the seventh hour. Get up and eat something and let bishop Athanasius know too.' " He said he took note of the hour, the month, the week, and the day, and found that they corresponded to fact. ALEXANDRA Didymus told me about a servant girl named Alexandra who lived outside the city in a locked tomb for ten years without seeing anyone, woman or man. Food was passed to her through an opening. Toward the end of her life she began to wear the monastic habit. We broke down the door of the tomb when the one who normally brought her food told me that he had gotten no response from her. We found that she had gone to her rest. The thrice-blessed Melania (about whom I will speak later) had this to say about Alexandra: "I never saw her face to face, but I went out to the tomb and asked her why she was locked up there. She called out through the opening: 'A man lost his head over me. I didn't want to go around causing him suffering or to calumniate him. Rather than lead into sin someone created in the image of God, I chose to lock myself up with the dead.' " ''I asked her," said Melania, "how can you overcome Accedia without ever seeing anyone?" She answered: "From morning until three in the afternoon (the hour None) I pray each of the hours while I keep on spinning linen thread. As the remaining hours pass I think about the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs. Then I eat my bits of bread and pass the remaining hours prepared to welcome that precious hope, death." THE RrcH GIRL I do not intend to omit the stories of those who lived shameful lives, since what they did serves for the praise of the good and can be a warning to anyone who happens to read this. In Alexandria there was girl who seemed humble but had an arrogant mind. She was excessively rich, but never gave a cent to traveler, virgin, church, or poor man. She paid no heed to the warnings of our fathers to turn away from material things. She still had relatives living, and had even adopted one niece, her sister's daughter. A glimmer of a desire for heaven showed through in a promise she repeatedly made to leave her money to this girl. This was plainly an illusion from the devil, who leads us deeper into covetousness on the pretence of love for relatives. His real teaching is that we should murder our brethren, our mother and our father, and not care for them. \Vhen he does inspire us to look out for relatives, it is not out of concern for them, but in hope that we may turn to injustice. He knows well that "the unjust man shall not inherit the kingdom of heaven." God can inspire us with a concern for relatives who are in need. This does not involve danger to our own soul, but anyone whose whole mind is turned toward the interest of his relatives has turned away from the law which tells us not to neglect our own soul. When the Psalmist asks, 'Who will ascend the mountain of the Lord?", he is insinuating that the answer is "Few" -namely, those who out of tbe fear of God take thought for their own soul. When he asks, "Who shall abide in his holy place?'', the answer is, "Whoever has clean hands and a clean heart, who has not been given his soul in vain." Those who are not bent on acquiring the virtues have received their soul in vain. They think it will perish with the body. There is a widely-told story of how the very holy man Macarius schemed to lighten the burden of this girl's covetousness. He was a priest and the director of a hospice for 15 �The College .' i poor cripples. As a young man he had been a jeweler who dealt in precious stones. When he met the rich girl he said: "Some jewels you cannot afford to pass over have come into my hands. They are choice emeralds and hyacinths. I have no obligation to say whether they have been found or stolen. They are being offered for 500 coins, a price that has no relation to their real worth. It is not even possible to set a fair price on them, since they are really priceless. If you take them, you can get your 500 coins back from one stone and use the rest to dress up your niece." The girl was so enraptured that she took the bait. Falling at his feet she said, "By all that is precious, don't let any one else have them." He urged her on, "Come to my house and see them." But she couldn't restrain herself. She threw the money at him! "Get them any way you want. I do not want to see who is selling them." He took the 500 coins and spent them to pay the expenses of his hospice. Time passed, but she was ashamed to remind such a prominent man, since every one in the city seemed to respect him greatly on account of his love for God and compassion. (He was in fact very vigorous up to his hundredth year. We spent some time with him.) Finally, she met him in church one day and said, "Please tell me what you decided about those jewels I gave you 500 coins for." He said: "I spent the 500 coins for the stones right away. Please come and look at them in the hospice, for that is where they are. Come and see whether they please you. If they do not, take your money back." So she set out happily. In the hospice poor women lived on one floor, poor men on another. He said to her, "What do you want to see first, the hyacinths or the emeralds?" She answered, ''Which ever you prefer." He first took her to the upper floor where women who had been mutilated or whose faces had been scarred were living. He said, "Here are the hyacinths." Next he took her downstairs, and showed her the men. "Do you like our emeralds? If you don't, take your money back." She went away ashamed. Later she regretted that what she did had not been done from love of God. When the niece she was so concerned about died after a childless marriage, she thanked Macarius for what he had done. APOLLONIUS Before he came to live on Mount Nitria, a man named Apollonius was a business man. He was too old to learn a trade or work as a copyist. Instead, he earned money by doing household work and then used it to buy medicine and food in Alexandria for any brothers who were sick. For twenty-one years he could be seen from early morning till the hour of None going the rounds from monastery to monastery, and opening every door to see if someone was sick. He carried raisins, pomegranates, eggs, white 16 ,:r'/V bread, and anything else a sick man might need. The mountain was a wild place with five thousand monks scattered about it. So Apollonius had hit on work suitable to his old age and in need of being done. When he died he left his medicines to another like himself and exhorted him to continue his work. PAISSY AND ISAIAH Two brothers, one named Paissy and the other Isaiah, were also there. When their father, a Spanish merchant, died, they divided up the inheritance. Besides real estate this consisted of 5,000 small coins, clothes, and household servants. They made a careful inventory of what they had and then started to talk things over with one another. ' Each said to the other: "What way of life should we follow, brother? If we take up our father's business, we too will have to pass on the fruit of our efforts to others. Worse, we may fall prey to robbers or drown in the sea. Better take up the monastic life. We can put our father's wealth to good use and avoid losing our own souls." The monastic life seemed good to each of them as a goal, but that was all they agreed on. When it came to choosing ways of fulfilling their desire, one was drawn in one way, the other in another. So they divided up their wealth and strove to please God, but in diametrically opposite ways. The first gave all his money to monasteries, churches, and prisons. He then learned a trade to support himself and took up a life of prayer and penance. The second kept control of his money and used it to build a monastery with some other brothers who came to live with him. He received any stranger, any sick man, or �April, 1976 anyone who was old or poor. On Saturday and Sunday he provided meals for three or four tables full of people. That is how he spent his money. In due time the two brothers died and each was spoken of as a perfect monk. The monks living in the mountain began to quarrel among themselves about which one was better. Partisans of each side went to see blessed Pambo and asked him which one had chosen a better way of life. He said: "Both were perfect. One acted like Abraham; the other like Elias." They insisted on a better answer: "How can they be equal in virtue? Please do not keep us in suspense." Those who preferred the ascetic said: "He did what the Gospel says. He sold what he had, gave it to the poor, carried his cross every hour, day and night, and imitated the Saviour through his prayers." Partisans of the other opinion said: "Isaiah also gave what he had to the poor. He even went out to the high· ways. and by-ways and brought in those who were suffering. He found rest not only for his own soul, but for the souls of the many sick and needy whom he helped." Blessed Pambo said: "I will say it again. Both are equal. Let me assure each one of you. If Paissy had not been such a great ascetic, his extreme goodness would not compare with that of his brother. Isaiah, by finding rest for the souls of others, found it for himself as well. He seemed to be worn down by a painful burden, but through it brought himself rest. But wait till God shows me how this puzzle is solved. Come back, then, and I will tell you." Some days later they returned, and asked him once more. Speaking as if in the ~ight of God, he said to them, "I saw both of them living in Paradise." say this. I only mean that circumstances sometime lead us to virtue when by ourselves we wouldn't have tried to attain it. So, some virtues are the result of choice, some of circumstances. MACARIUS OF ALEXANDRIA I did meet Macarius who came from Alexandria. He was the priest for the settlements that we call the Cells. I stayed there nine years, and he was alive for three of those years. So I myself witnessed some things he did. Others I heard of, and still others I learned by questioning those who knew him. This was his askesis. Whenever he heard that someone, somewhere, was doing some penance, he immediately practised it in its most extreme form. For example, when someone told him that for the forty days of Lent the Tabennesiotes ate only uncooked food, he resolved to eat only raw things for seven years. He ate nothing but salad, when he could find greens, and beans soaked in cold water. After he had succeeded in mastering this kind of austere practice, he heard of someone else who ate only a pound of bread a day. Marcarius thereupon decided to drop his loaf of bread into a narrow-necked jar, and eat Dnly what he could get out in one handful. He would joke about this, saying: "I could get hold of a big enough piece, but then I could not get my hand out because of the narrow neck. Like a tax collector, it wouldn't let me escape." MACARIUS THE YOUNGER At the age of eighteen Macarius the Younger had acci· dentally killed a man. The murder happened while he, with other young people, was playing a game on Lake Mana where he tended sheep and goats. Without a word to anyone, he went off into the open desert and remained there frightened senseless of God and man for three years under the open sky. Everyone knows, either by his own experience or hearsay, that no rain falls in that desert. Then he built himself a cell and lived in it for twentyfive more years. By that time solitude had become his joy, and the Devil, by God's judgment, something he could laugh at. After I lived with him a long time, I asked him how he felt about the sin of murder he had committed. He said he was grateful that he did it, not sad. That involuntary murder had been the beginning of his salvation. He drew on the Scriptures to show that Moses would not have been found worthy of seeing God, and of writing down God's word, if he hadn't killed a man in Egypt and then fled to Sinai from fear of Pharaoh. I am not trying to smooth the path for murder when I Thus for three whole years he ate only four or five ounces of bread a day and he drank about the same amount of water. Less than a pint of oil lasted him a whole year. Here is another thing he did. He thought it was a good idea not to sleep any more. So he stayed outside for twenty days. During the day he was scorched by the sun and at night he shrivelled up on account of the cold. Later he said: "If I had stayed out any longer, and kept on refusing to sleep, my brain would have so dried up that I would have gone mad. In short, I won so far as what is properly myself is concerned; but, since nature needs sleep, I was defeated." 17 �The College One morning when he was sitting in his cell a mosquito lit on his foot and bit him. Smarting under the pain he struck it with his hand. The splattered remains were red with his own blood. Realizing that he had acted in anger, he sentenced himself to remain for six months naked in the swamps of Scete in the open desert. There the mosquitoes are like wasps and they can pierce a wild boar's hide. He had bites all over him and such huge lumps that some thought he was suffering from elephantiasis. When he returned to his cell six months later, the only way people could know him as Macarius was by his voice. There was a story that he once wanted to visit the garden-tomb of Iannay and Iambray. This garden-tomb belonged to magicians who had been all powerful under the Pharaohs. Since they maintained their power for a long time they were able to build this tomb out of dressed stone. So their hero's tomb was even decorated with an abundance of gold. Also they planted many trees, since the place has some water, and under those trees they dug a well. Since the holy man did not know the way, he crossed the desert as one does the sea, by the movement of the stars. In order to find his way back, he carried a bundle of rushes and put one down every mile so that the path would be marked. After a nine-day journey he drew near his destination. At that point the foe of man, ever anxious to thwart the athletes of Christ, gathered all the reeds once more into a bundle and put them under his head where he was sleeping-a scant mile from the tomb. When he woke up and found the reeds, the thought occurred to him that this had happened by God's permission, in order that he would not put his hope in a reed, but in the cloud and pillar of fire that had guided Israel for forty years in the desert. He said: "Seventy demons rushed out of the tomb to meet me. They shouted and flapped their wings like ravens, flying at chin level, and screaming, 'What do you want, Macarius? What do you want, monk? Why do you come to this dwelling place that belongs to us? You can't stay here.' " He answered, "I will just go in, look around, and go away." He said that when he got inside he found a small bucket hanging up, and an iron chain on the edge of the wellboth disintegrating with age and some dried up pomegranates all hollow from the heat of the sun. So he started back. He walked for twenty days. Then the water he had been carrying gave out and his supply of bread gave out, leaving him near collapse from hunger and thirst. Then, according to his account, a young girl appeared before him dressed in spotless white linen and carrying a vessel from which drops of water were dripping. For three days she kept continually in front of him at a distance of two hundred yards. He saw her clearly with her hovering jug but, as if it were in a dream, he could never catch up. He kept on following, nevertheless, in the hope of getting something to drink. 18 When she disappeared he next saw a herd of large antelopes. A cow and her calf stopped by him (they are in fact numerous in that region). Macari us said her udder was heavy with milk. Sitting down under her, he drew for himself ample milk. The antelope accompanied Macarius all the way to his cell: she even shoved her own tiny calf aside to favor Macarius, and bore him company until he reached the cell from which he had set out. Another time he was digging a well near some dry brush and was bitten by an asp. Such a bite can cause death. He took hold of it with both his hands, and controlling it by keeping its jaws apart, he then tore it to pieces, saying "How dare you go where God didn't send you?" He had cells in different parts of the desert-one in Scete, the deeper open desert, one in Lipe, one in the place called the Cells, and one on the Nitrian mountains. Some are windowless, and here, it is said, he spent Lent in darkness. There was another, narrower, one, where it was impossible to stretch out one's legs. And there was a wider one where he met people who came to see him. He cured a countless number of people who were possessed by the devil. Once, when I was present, a girl of noble birth, suffering from years from paralysis, was brought from Thessalonica. He rubbed her with holy oil and recited prayers over her for twenty days, and then sent her home cured. Afterwards she sent him a generous supply of fruit. He learned that the Tabennesiotes have an exceptional mode of life, and so he changed from his own habit into the secular clothes of a day laborer, and traveled 15 days across the desert to the Thebaid. When he came to the place where the Tabennesiotes carry their practices of penance, he asked to see their abbot, Pachomius, a man of great experience, who had the gift of prophecy, but to whom it was not given to know about Macarius. When they met, Macarius said, "I beg you let me enter your monastery so that I can become a monk.'' Pachomius said, "You are too old to begin. You can never learn to practice asceticism. The Brothers here are ascetics, and you cannot imitate them. You will only be scandalised and go off cursing them." For these reasons he did not accept Macarius on the first day, nor the second, nor even when seven whole days had passed. Since Macarius had the strength to go on fasting, he held out and said: "Accept me, father. If I don't fast and work like the others do, order me to be expelled." Thus he persuaded these brethren to accept him. There are four �April, 1976 thousand of them, even now, in that single monastery. So he entered. In a short time Lent came. Some ate in the evening, some every second day only, others on the fifth day. One stood up all night but sat down during the day. . Macarius first soaked a large number of palm branches in water, and then stood up in a corner for the whole forty days until Easter came. He took neither bread nor water, nor did he bend his knees or lie down. The only thing he ate was a few cabbage leaves on Sunday, and he did this only to make it appear as though he was taking something. He left his cell only because of some necessity, and came back as soon as possible without talking to anyone, or doing anything except praying in his heart and braiding the palm leaves he carried in his hands as he walked. As a result all the monks who saw him turned against their abbot, saying: "From where have you brought this fleshless marvel for our condemnation? Either you send him away or we inform you that we are going." When Pachomius heard all about his practices, he prayed that God would tell him who the visitor was. When it was revealed to him, he took Macarius by the hand, and led him to the church and up to the altar. Then he said: "You are Macari us and you have hidden yourself from me. For years I hoped to meet you. I am thankful that you have shown my little children what it means to be in fighting trim so that they won't feel proud of their penances. Go back to your own place now; you have done enough to edify us. Pray for us." So he went away. On another occasion he told us the following story: When I saw that I had been successful in living out every form of rule I desired, I undertook another venture. This time I decided with the help of God to keep my mind free from distractions for just five days. After I made this decision, I closed the door of my cell and of the entry way, so that I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. On the second day I began to stand up. I said, "Mind, don't come down from heaven. You have angels and archangels there. You have the powers from on high, and you have the God of the Universe. Don't go below the heavens." I held out for two days and two nights. I made the devil so angry that he turned into a burst of flame and burned up everything in the cell, including a little rush mat I was standing on. I began to think that there might not even be anything left of me. Finally, on the third day, I was so afraid that I gave up. I just wasn't able to keep my mind away from distractions. To keep from having pride chalked up to me, I settled for thinking about the world." Once I went to see this same Macarius and I found the village priest lying outside the door of his cell. His head was eaten away with cancer. You could see his skull all the way to the top of his head. He had come to Macarius to get cured, but he hadn't even been given an interview. I besought him, saying: "I beg you, please help him. At least give him an answer." He said, "He doesn't deserve to be cured. He has been sent a lesson. If you want him to be cured, persuade him not officiate any more. Even though he is a fornicator he has been officiating at services. That's why this lesson was sent to him. God Himself is curing him." When I told the wretch this, he agreed, and swore not to exercise his priesthood any more. Macarius admitted him then, and said, ~~Do you believe that there is a God?'' HYes," he answered. "Weren't you able to fool God?" ~~No," he answered. "If you admit your sin and the lesson God has given you, correct your ways.n He confessed his guilt, and gave his word not to sin any more and not to act as a priest, but instead to live as a layman. Then Macarius layed his hands on him. In a few days he was cured. Hair grew back on his head, and he went off in good health. I saw a young boy brought in under the influence of an evil spirit. Macarius put one hand on his head, and another on his heart. He then prayed long enough to make the boy hang motionless in the air. He swelled up like a balloon and got so hot that his skin was all wrinkled. Then he began to shout, and water came from all his sense organs. Then he calmed down, and reverted to his normal size. Macarius rubbed him with holy oil, poured water over him, and told him not to touch meat or wine for forty days. He then gave him back to his father. That was the way he healed him. One day thoughts of vainglory crowded in on him and drove him out of his cell. They implanted in his head the idea that it was part of the divine plan that he should go help the sick in a hospital in Rome. For it was true that grace worked mightily in him against spirits. For a long time he didn't heed this, though he was greatly agitated. Finally he fell down on the threshold of his cell,; pointed his feet toward the outside, and said: "You pull me, devils; you drag me. I won't go on my. own legs. If you move me that way, all right." He made this oath to them: "Until tonight I'll lie here. If you don't succeed in moving me, there's no chance that I will listen to you." He stayed down a long time, and then got up. When night came, back came the demons against him. He filled a two-bushel basket full of sand, put it on his shoulders, and started moving across the desert. Someone named Theosebius, a street cleaner from Antioch, met him and said: "What are you carrying, father? Let me carry it. Don't you worry a1bout it." "I worry about what's harrassing me. It's wild, and whispers that I should escape to a foreign land." Finally after moving around for a long time, he went back to his cell. His body was worn down. The holy Macarius-he was a priest-told us this: When I was giving communion I noticed that I never gave the 19 �The College host to Mark, the ascetic. An angel took it from the altar table and gave it to him. All I could see was the wrist that was giving the host. Mark was a younger man. He had memorized both the old and new Testaments. He was meek to a fault and circumspect if any one ever was. One day when I was at leisure in the last days of that old man, Macarius, I went and sat down outside his door. I thought of him as superior to other men, so ancient was he, and I wanted to hear what he might say and see what he might do. He was all alone inside, nearly a hundred years old, without teeth, and still struggling against the devil and himself. He was grumbling: "What do you want, you evil old man. You have already had your taste of oil and your sip of wine. What more do you want, you aged glutton?" Turning to the devil he kept saying: "Do I owe you something right now? You can't think of anything? Go on then; get away from me." Almost as if he were humming he would say to himself: "Come on, you ancient glutton. How long more am I going to be with you?" (Matthew I 7.16). His disciple Paphnatius told us that one day a hyaena brought her blind cub to Macarius. With her head she pushed open the door of the entry way where he was sitting, and dropped the cub at his feet. The holy man lifted it up, spat upon its eyes, and prayed over it. "Immediately it began to see." (Luke 18.43). The mother gave 20 suck, and then took it and went away. The next day she brought the saint the fleece of a large sheep. The venerable Melania told me: "From Macarius I received this fleece as a parting gift." What is strange about this? He who tamed lions for Daniel can also make a hyaena intelligent. Macarius said that he never spat on the ground from the day that he was baptized; when he said this it was sixty years after his baptism. As far as his physical appearance goes, he was a little stunted and had very little hair. There were only a few strands on his upper lip and on the point of his chin. The hair on his cheeks never grew, because .of his excesses in asceticism. Once I went to him in a state of listlessness (accedia) and said: "Father, what must I do? Thoughts are troubling me. They keep saying: 'You aren't accomplishing anything here. Go away.'" He said: "This is what you tell them: 'I am staying inside these walls for Christ's sake.' " The deeds of St. Macarius that I have pointed out are only a few amongst many. Brother Robert Smith, F.S.C., is a tutor at St. John's College, Annapolis. He is engaged in preparing a new translation, with notes, of the History of the Desert Fathers by Palladius. This article represents selections from the work. �April, 1976 THE COLLECTION OF MR. & MRs. EuGENE V. THAw Eugene Delacroix, Royal Tiger Pierre-Paul Prud'hon, Female Nude Honore Daumier, ''Deux Avocats Conversant" He has been called by Time "pwbably the most successful private art dealer of his generation." Although he buys and sells art in many forms, Eugene V. Thaw '47 has a special interest in one aspect of art: he collects master drawings. In his art dealings he has always taken pleasure in helping museums "fill gaps" in their collections. So it seems appropriate that the drawings which he and his wife, Clare, have collected since the 1950's should be destined eventually to become the pwperty of the Pierpont Morgan Library in New Yark. The collection is a highly personal one, as private collections are apt to be, and reflects both Mr. Thaw's interests and his antipathies. By his own admission he does not care particularly for Italian baroque drawings, for instance; he generally likes drawings which are pictures in themselves, not preliminary sketches, and prefers works which reflect a distinct and recognizable style. Hence the collection features many drawings by Watteau, Rembrandt, Daumier, Claude, Cezanne, and Goya, as well as by Van Gogh, Degas, Delacroix, and the Tiepolos. The public is most fortunate that Clare and Gene Thaw have put their marvelous collection on tour this year (it appeared first at the Morgan from December lOth to February 15th, and will be at the Cleveland Museum of Art from March 16th to May 2nd, at the Art Institute of Chicago from May 28th to July 5th, and at the National Gallery of Canada fwm August 6th to September 17th), for it is a rare privilege to see such drawings "in the flesh." And the public is even more fortunate that the Thaws have announced plans ultimately to give the collection to the Morgan Library, where it can be enjoyed by generations to come. 21 �The College DAviD Moss: Profile of an Alumnus Perhaps he should be called an experimental traditionalist. He was a member of the pioneering class, the first to graduate from Santa Fe, in 1968. Then David Moss turned to Jewish studies and the graphic arts; and he revived and has brought to a high degree of perfection and interest the art of making Ketubot, the contracts given by Jewish grooms to their brides. These documents, with their traditional Aramaic .text, do not fall under the prohibition against imagery. Moss makes the most of the liberty thus granted to an artist and craftsman of imagination and aesthetic sense. Indeed, even for those who cannot read the language, the Ketubot are beautiful objects of strong and elegant design. In pioneering the artistic revival of Ketubot Moss is clearly animated by a love of the Jewish tradition and by the important place marriage has in that tradition. The text of a Ketubah gives the bride certain assurances regarding her material welfare. But it is on the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual aspects of matrimony that David Moss exercises his empathy and inventiveness. Eaoh Ketubah is individually commissioned, conceived, and carried out. Moss acquaints himself with the interests and activities of the couple and incorporates them in the imagery and design of the Ketubah-with the result that it can come in all kinds of shapes and forms. The shape, for instance, may be influenced or even determined by the 22 piece of parchment supplied when the Ketubah is commissioned; even a hole in "it was, on at least one occasion, made part of the design, just as an "accidental" slip of the pen is capable, in the hand of David Moss, of giving rise to more invention, being treated almost as an objet trouve. The results of this dedicated work are of a surprising and touching beauty. The real trouvaille, however, was undoubtedly the initial discovery that the Ketubah, the traditional document still in use, had become the victim of mass production and was awaiting its rescuer. Moss's commitment to Judaism had already happened while he was at St. John's, where he observed Jewish ritual and law. After graduation he went to Hebrew University to prepare for the entrance examination of the Jewish Theological Seminary. There he was introduced to the Hebrew scribal art, which exerted an immediate fascination upon him. In work with Hebrew letters he found an almost mystical pleasure, a meeting of the abstract and concrete, and the symbolic capturing of "the ethereal in a physical reality." It was a writer of scrolls in Jerusalem who introduced this young man from Dayton, Ohio, to the forms of the 22 Hebrew letters and to calligraphy. He began to practise it, and his first Ketubah was a marriage contract he gave as a wedding present to friends. After studies at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York he returned to �April, 1976 Rosalyn and David Moss Dayton. There he divided his time between work in his father's family business and his own development of Ketubot. The division suited him well, because he did not want to let his livelihood depend on his religious craft. But an exhibition of his work in 1972 changed his mind. It started at the Judah L. Magnes Museum in Berkeley, California, consisted of about twenty Ketubot lent by their owners, and was then sent to various museums around the country. We are grateful to be >~hie to reproduce some examples from the catalogue of that exhibition, and we thank the owners who allowed them to be exhibited. The director of the Magnes Museum, Seymour Fromer, not only arranged the collection, but also appointed Moss artist-in-residence there. David Moss and his wife Rosalyn moved to Berkeley in early 1974. He works in a studio in a building next door to the museum, where he also teaches Hebrew calligraphy. His workshop bears the name bet-alpha, the house of the Hebrew letter. On the average a Ketubah takes him a week to do, and of course David did his own when he and Rosalyn were married. Their first child, a daughter, Elyssa Sharon, was born on July 27 last year. (They live at 1235 Peralta, Berkeley, California 94706.) David Moss has not yet written much about his work, but there is an article by him on "The Lovely Art of Ketubah-Making" in The Jewish Catalogue. • Perhaps we should close with words he wrote for the catalogue from which the accompanying illustrations were taken: My Ketubah revival has brought with it a joy I did not anticipate when I began experimenting with· Ketubot five years ago-the joy of the bride and groom who write me about each other and about the life they dream of building together; the joy of a proud parent ordering a Ketubah for his about-to-be-wed child; the joy of a child glow- 23 �The College ingly describing his dear parents be wishes to surprise with an "anniversary Ketubah." The special privilege I have had reading these sweet, warm outpourings of love, respect, and affection is something I cherish. The exciting challenge of working out the ideas for a Ketubah and translating them into something I hope will please the recipient makes the tedious work of calligraphy and illumination a delight. The experience of reviving this traditional Jewish art form has been fulfilling. I have grown through it and learned from it. I have been able to bring joy to others. This has made me wish to expand and deepen my commitment to creating Jewish art. I hope to broaden my work into other areas of Hebrew calligraphy-Mizrach and Shiviti plaques, a Haggadah, Megillah, or Siddur. I also plan on exploring other media such as ceramics, textiles, and metal work. ~;r:J 1 Kil.i!~n .nH:i I:~JJ u,n~rH~ C'lllJ'lJ :.~lr'lnlnl.w~ 1n!t:. m·~~1 ~,,, 1':1 :K~"J~ ·t. !'11: 011~ rK'm ~'"'l~··m~n ~;.~· :1r.~~: ~nJ":'Il'"l 11 a:lu u ~~-·~nM1'~ r11~~~ ~n~l(. m:JJ,m:J·:~·,~:.J~ll1:.pl~~~ n.~ill'iiV~\Jil n:o~r~, !~]'l',1' Jll:JI' lli'KI 1'1'1Pi:1,11l!Jif~lKI ~KliJ'l ~Lij ··~J1~t:! l'l•J !'1/Uifl1'n~!l, 1'1':11!1' Pll. I J Jllll:'l~ .•.. 1"l 'J'~lnl l:flt.l 'J~ Nl:l 1 ~'1 l'li;W!JU-II!II'Wll :J'::'J"J'Jll.,JT 'J']JTIJI PUl'l!lfTH 'J] 1:111 :11M :ti:Kill~ IIP<'U1 1<~1P': ~~ Rl\l(l 'l'nl] J~IIJ\ .~J~l~T ~'llTli'T11n!KI:~·l nl~! K1' KnJ!n~ ''I:'J::J,u P11:t"Ti 1'! 1t1l:l.pt :n::s.K ,,_., :.•J X:'l"l:J"'Illmlll:tl ~,l"f!WJ"W~ ~W,"-''T 'lNtl'1 ~~,. 1nn "rlll1 m~llnl111N, t•ly ll~l:l:t -~~ C'~Ulll ~~ \ICl 'Ul~1.,S:'~D:J[J1;11~~ ~Nn:l ,:'::1 U'~l~~ :'IICI:,11~l\~'i lt2 i't~ 11;,\:tl\]i !J1n 'TI1 1::: O'fiiii~T D111Mts ~J:t 11:1 p;~JJ c•1nrc,'1n:s '-''": 1~W nl'1nM llT 1nn \~ !K, 1nK 1l1 ,11!( ':1' ,~~t'J)II .n~~~~' )C'i ~n!lZllJ11, ,,, K'l11l ~~. ','l'l~11'~Jl l,K 1~W l2\n ~1~!~~ ~~,!~ !il mnn '~l.rt'N!"tl ~~~, ,.,,~~~,., ,~1~1 ~~r:~:~ -~,~·~n,,n~ ,,~~ Jl'li!!'T N':ll tt~~n!JiJ ... ,,,. ·,~~· \l~ll ~1'1"" \1~>. \l:ll~ ~~,~'l 1'~!1. ,~, M'T Kn:l. 1J1:1 ,IJIIti ~.~:1~1111 \'i M'll'Tl 1~ • ,,,~~~ •1n ~~ ''" ,,nn nn:t ~~=:l ~~1 M/31]1 ~~~~~~:~ li!!~1 1 lts ,~\11 1\l'.,nKt WT Gail and David Resnick ~h~ln:J ,,~ ~'ll"'TJ P{i ~n!J~11T1 \ll~1Y'l~ 'l1~ '1:1 C1lW1:1. ]l"l \lln .,,., ,~,~!jj•',. ,'','~l ;~tnl KJI11nl X.tl~~lJI1 ~~~WI ,m:iJ,,l~], ~~~n:~ > >> I"IW~::Il U'~:Jfl .,,::n'2.!J,.,C:1,::n W ':r"IL •. Kn'"~"JIC~'J 1tfMl1l,.,, ,,"W"T i <•,••••'',,•z:,~~~~ ~'·1l"T 1.11n 'T11 .,~1']1~\:J 1l, \;'~1,? c -0; '~, Knl1h1\1,~~ n~ •~~~ •.,~~ . .;.; -4::w , ',', , , , ',' ,', , , , , , ', :::nfollt!!lfll,:,·n~··!:lfl :"T.::::W · o·~t.,i11LI ~~!'11 ,: ~~l~l~f!~,,Wl':ito:naJ:;, ~~~~,.,ljj.,~lll• :s.t.,~tY,~· ~:I)~ 01~1 Etta and Ron Paransky My experiments with Ketubot have convinced me that America is ripe for a revival of Jewish art ·• and Jewish craft work. I envision a gronp of dedicated Jewish artisans working and learning together, sharing ideas, skills, and knowledge. Our entire tradition is awaiting a careful, thoughtful, and loving search for the wealth of inspiration it can provide the Jewish artisan. A visual Midrash is waiting to be expounded ... "Great is the study of Torah combined with manual work," said Rabban Gamliel. To which I can only say, Amen. *The Jewish Catalogue. Compiled- and edited by Richard Siegel, Michael Strassfeld, and Sharon Strassfeld. Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia. A good deal of information for this article comes from an article by Bruce Kadden, "The Sheer Delight of a Hebrew Ca11igrapher" in On One Foot, volume III, number 1, Aprill975. We are als<? indebted to Jack Moss, David's father, for supplying information, newspaper articles about the exhibition, and two issues of 'The National Jewish Monthly (April 1972 and April 1973) containing articles about David's work. 24 �April, 1976 CAMPUS-ALUMNI NEWS ALUMNI SUMMER SEMINARS As announced in January, Summer Seminar programs for alumni and their spouses will be held again this year on both campuses. The dates are: Annapolis-June 13-26; Santa Fe-August 114. Only the Annapolis program was available in detail as this went to the printers; a separate mailing to all alumni will cover all details of both programs. ANNAPOLIS First Week, June 13-19: Seminar: Sophocles, Electra Euripides, The Bacchae (Curtis Wilson, Joe Sachs) Tutorial A: Poems by Donne, Shakespeare, T. S. Eliot (Geoffrey Comber) Tutorial B: Aristotle, Ethics V (Joseph P. Cohen) Second Week, June 20-26: Seminar: Moliere, The Miser Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale (J. Winfree Smith, Benjamin A. Milner) Tutorial A: Poems by Marvell, Milton, M. Moore, Edwin Muir (SamuelS. Kutler) Tutorial B: J. H. VanDenberg, The SANTA FE INAUGURATES ALUMNI FUND CAMPAIGN This year, from October through February, the Santa Fe campus conducted its first formal Alumni Fund Campaign. As the results below indicate clearly, the Santa Fe alumni are off to a Hying start. Dollar Totals 1968 1969 1970 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 Agent Bettina A. Briggs Frank H. Adams Christopher & T. K. (Thomas) Nelson David Esdale Anthony & Elisabeth (Dean) Jeffries Galen Breningstall David Gross Denis Yaro Donors Average Gilt $ 100 380 I ll $100 34 22 1,470 3 6 88 145 182 1,077.50 4 7 ll 5 22 20 16 215 49 There will be picnic suppers scheduled, as well as motion pictures and seminar parties. On June 16th the University of Maryland Trio will give a concert; on Friday, June 25th, there will be a lecture by former tutor Carl Linden of the department of political science, George Washington University. HISTORY COMMITTEE REPORTS Roland R. Most '34, chairman of the committee gathering material for an "anecdotal history" of St. John's, reports a very small response since the project was announced in the November 1975 issue of The Reporter. Progress has been made in the form of taped interviews with Luther S. Tall '21 and Ridgely Gaither '24; Mr. Most and his fellow committeemen, Bernard F. Gessner '27, and A. Irwin Rusteberg '31, plan further interviews. Mr. Most also reports a very interesting letter from Mrs. Milton G. Baker, whose hus- ·• band was a member of the class of 1921, as well as material from Louis L. Snyder '28. 247 $3,479.50 Class Changing Nature of Man (Alan H. Dorfman) 7 -- $71 Highest Donor Total: Frank Adams 1969-ll David Gross 1974-ll Highest Dollar Total: David Esdale 1971-$1,470 In the Class Notes section, at the start of each Santa Fe class listing, there appear the names of all contributors to the Alumni Fund for that class. ALUMNI REPRESENTATIVES ELECTED In the mail balloting which was completed on March 15th, in which Stephen Benedict '47, Sharon L. Bishop '65, Julius Rosenberg '38, and Thomas E. Stern S68 were competing for two positions on the Board of Visitors and Governors as Alumni Representatives, Sharon L. Bishop and Julius Rosenberg received the largest number of votes and hence are considered elected. 25 �The College THE KLEIN EssAYs Two years ago this month we reported on the Essays assembled in honor of Jacob Klein's seventy-fifth birthday. Now we have decided to move ahead by reviving the St. John's College Press as publisher of this volume. The printed book will be the same size as this magazine, 8:Yz" x 11", with soft covers, printed in the same general style, and will be approximately 195 pages in length. The contents are as follows: ESSAYS IN HONOR OF JACOB KLEIN As Presented to him on the Occasion of his Seventy-fifth Birthday Introductory Letter by Richard D. Weigle Preface by Curtis Wilson Contributors: Douglas Allanbrook-Study in Black and White (for harpsichord). Robert Bart-The Shepherd and the Wolf: On the First Book of Plato's Republic. Seth Benardete-Euripides' Hippolytus. Laurence Berns-Rational AnimalPolitical Animal: Nature and Convention in Human Speech and Politics. Eva Brann-An Appreciation of Kant's Critique of Pure Reason: An Introduction for Students. Anne Buchanan Crosby-Eight Sketches. Robert A. Goldwin-The State of Nature in Political Society. Simon Kaplan-Plato in Hermann Cohen's Philosophy of Judaism. John S. Kieffer-Mythos and Logos. Samuel S. Kutler-The Source of the Source of the Dedekind Cut. David R. Lachterman-Self-hood and Self-Consciousness: An Inquiry into Kantian Themes. Margaret W. Rottner-Politics and the Constitution. Beate Ruhm von Oppen-Bach's Way with Words. 26 Robert Sacks-Ptolemy as a Teacher. Richard Scofield-The Christian Phaedra or Farewell to Tragedy. J. Winfree Smith-"Watchman, What of the Night?" Brother Robert Smith-Lear and the Story of Eden. Leo Strauss-On Plato's Apology of Socrates and Crito. Robert B. Williamson-Eidos and Agatlwn in Plato's Republic. Curtis Wilson-Newton and the Eotvos Experiment. Elliott Zuckevman-Four Sketches for a Study in Prosody. Editorial Board: Samuel S. Kutler, Chairman Eva Brann Robert B. Williamson J. Winfree Smith Elliott Zuckerman In order to assist in planning for publication, the board is anxious to determine how many alumni, parents, or other friends of the College might be interested in purchasing a copy of Essays in Honor of Jacob Klein. If you want to purchase a copy, please send your name, address, and a check for ten dollars ($10) to: Essays Office of College Relations St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 This will reserve your copy, which will be sent to you as soon as it is printed; a publication date of June or July is hoped for. We have a further hope that this will be the first of a series of books to be produced by the St. John's College Press. ANNAPOLIS ANNUAL FUND REPORT On March 31 the Annual Fund drive for the Annapolis campus, spurred on by matching challenge grants totalling $150,000, had reached the sum of $349,000. That is about 37% ahead of last year, and puts the College in Annapolis well on its way toward this year's goal of $522,000. In specific categories of donors, alumni giving is 42% ahead, parents are 25% in advance of last year, and individuals-other than alumni and parents-are ahead by 17%. Letters from Dr. Thomas Turner '21 and William Simons '48, announcing the challenge grants, have inspired a great many repeat gifts; that is, second and third and even fourth gifts from the same donor. As a result, the special gift categories -King William Associates, $100-249; Francis Scott Key Donors, $250-499; St. John's Sponsors, $500-999; and President's Council, $1,000 or moreare growing at a most gratifying rate. Vice president William Dunham, in el!Opressing appreciation for the fine showing thus far, had a special word for alumni, the younger ones in particular. uwe must also increase the percent response from our alumni," he said. "Repeat gifts are great, of course. But we must remember as well that they still count only as gifts from one person. In addition, we need gifts from more alumni in order to build up the percent participation. To that end, believe me, every gift is most welcome and none is too small. uThe alumni response last year was 27%.'' Dunham continued. "Our goal this year is 40%. It's not that we aren't interested in the total dollars-you can be sure we are-but we know that they will follow increased numbers of donors. And foundations and corporations are much more apt to be responsive to St. John's needs if we can show that our family' is doing all it can." The closing date for •the Annual Fund is June 30, about two months away as you read this. On March 31 there was still about $173,000 to be raised. All alumni, parents, and other friends of St. John's who have not yet contributed are urged to consider the help they can still give the College by taking advantage of the challenge gifts it has been offered. With your help we can finish yet another year in the black. 4 SANTA FE SusTAINING CAMPAIGN The Third Annual Sustaining Campaign for the Santa Fe campus closed in early February with a total of �April, 1976 $38,009.86-from 187 gifts and pledge payments. Four chairmen~ nine vice-chairmen and forty-five solicitors worked on the drive which annually solicits gifts and pledges from supporters in Santa Fe and Los Alamos. For the past two years the campaigns have been conducted mainly through personal visits and telephone follow-ups. Prospects are divided by occupation or profession with a vice-chairman heading each category. Last year's drive brought in a total of $31,666.82. It was gratifying that there were increases in a number of areas this year: Total number of gifts rose to 142 compared to 108 last year. This number included 74 new gifts and 8 new pledges. In the last local campaign 56 donors gave for the first time; there were 6 new pledges. BOOKS WANTED Charlotte Fletcher, Librarian in Annapolis, is very anxious to obtain copies of William Ostwald's Outline of General Chemistry (Annapolis, St. John's College, 1940). If you have a copy you would like to donate to the Librarv, Miss Fletcher would be most app;eciative. SANTA FE HOSTS BICENTENNIAL EVENTS The western campus of St. John's College hosted two bicentennial events as part of the February Festival of the Arts Bicentennial Celebration in Santa Fe. The first was a symposium in the Great Hall on February 15 on the theme, "Spirit of the Southwest." The second was a concert on February 29 featuring the world premiere of Rio Grande Sonata by Indian composer Louis W. Ballard. Pianist Manuel P. Maramba and violinist Scott Hankins, two members of the Yale/St. John's Consort, performed the work. Both celebrations were made possible through the cooperation of the New Mexico American Revolution Bicentennial Commission. Three papers were read at the symposium, exploring the response of both Spanish and Indian populations in New Mexico to the condition of becoming a part of the United States in 1846 and, the other side of the coin, the response of the United States to finding itself in possession of great parts of "empires" formerly Spanish and Indian. It was not solely an historical enterprise as responses extended to the present day. Dean Charles Poitras of the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe presented the paper on the Indian section. Dr. John Aragon, President of New Mexico Highlands University, and St. John's Tutor Robert Bunker spoke to the Spanish question. Tutor Thomas K. Simpson talked on the Anglo-Saxon aspect of the question. Dean Robert A. Neidorf served as moderator. Following reading of the papers there was a discussion in which both members of a panel and members of the audience participated. After the symposium there was a social hour followed by dinner. Some 250 Santa Feans enjoyed the event. In addition to the Ballard premiere, the February 29 concert featured mezzo soprano Mary Neidorf in a selection of songs by Charles Ives and the third member of the Yale/St. John's Consort, oboist Frank Lynch, playing with Manuel Maramba Sonatina for Oboe and Harpsichord by Gordon Jacobs. Ballard is a prolific creative artist who has lived and worked in Santa Fe for a number of years. He is recognized not only as a composer but also as a conductor, pianist, tympanist, choral director and music educator. His symphonic compositions, ballets, choral cantatas, and instrumental ensemble pieces have been performed widely both here and abroad. In 1974 the world premiere of his Incident at Wounded Knee was presented in Warsaw by the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra during their State Department tour of Europe. It will be performed in Washington, D. C. on April 30 at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Rio Grande Sonata was originally conceived as an unaccompanied violin sonata. It was rescored for the St. John's performance as a major work in four movements for violin and piano. CLASS NOTES 1928 Varieties of Nationalism: A Comparative History, by Louis L. Snyder, professor of history at The City College and The City University of New York, has just been published by Dryden/Holt, Rinehart & Winston. The book summarizes the work dOne on nationalism during the author's entire academic career. 1932 Frank Gilbreath is vice president of the News-Courier in Charleston, S.C. The corporation which owns that paper has recently acquired the Banner in Cambridge, M& 1936 Robert f. Lau writes that he has been reelected for another three-year tenn on the executive board of the Ewing (N.J.) Township Democratic Club. This marks the beginning of Bob's fifteerith consecutive year as a board member. As a reminder to the Class of 1936 (and to let others know what this class is up to), don't forget the June 5th reunion at funie Clark's home on South River. Junie, Bob Miller, and Jack Hodges have arranged all the details of a most attractive event, and hope for a maximum turn-out of classmates and their spouses. 1937 February brought a fine letter from Asbury W. Lee III, now chairman of the board of the Clearfield Bank & Trust Company of Clearfield, Pa. Asbury writes that he is in the "waning years" of his active business career, and plans to retire in December 1977. That will mark thirty-one years with the bank, sixteen as president. One very sad note in the letter: Asbury's wife, the former Sally Hoffman, died last October 16th after a long illness. We know his many friends and classmates join us in sending most sincere if late condolences. 1945 President Gerald Ford has nominated Charles A. Nelson, a principal of Peat, Marwick, Mitchell & Co., who heads the company's higher education consulting practice, to be a member of the National Council of Educational Research for a three-year term. The purpose of the Council is to establish policies for the National Institute of Education and to advise the Assistant Secretary for Education and the Director of the National Institute on development of the Institute's programs. Chuck is one 27 �The College of the two vice-chairmen of the Board of Visitors and Governors of the College. 1946 Former St. John's tutor and Santa Fe dean Clarence J. Kramer teaches in what sounds like a rather St. John'sian Program in Literature, Religion, and Philosophy at Marlboro College. Also teaching in the program is Neal 0. Weiner of the class of 1964. 1947 From Francis S. Mason '43 comes news of Robert Courtright, who has lived in France for many years. An exhibition of Bob's masks and collages in Paris was recently most successful. Entitled "De la voix," the exhibition consists of masks shown in the context of a program of "manifestations" concerning the voice, audio poetry, and po6sie musique. H. Gerald Hoxby reports from Australia that the company he started up "down under," Dubois Chemical Pty. Ltd., is developing nicely and should double its growth next year. The Hoxbys had planned to return to the States last December, but, finding Sydney a very pleasant place in which to live and work, have decided to stay another year. 1949 Anton G. (Tony) Hardy informs us that by virtue of a recent job change he is now a psychologist at the Veterans Hospital in Albany, N.Y. He is also writing professionally. Tony claims St. John's shows its influence: he's "trying to combat arid positivism with some healthy doses of Kant." 1951 On March 19th Howard V. Herman represented President Weigle and St. John's College at the College of Charleston (S.C.). The occasion was the celebration of the 206th anniversary of that college's founding and the honoring of fifteen other Colonial co1leges, St. John's among them. 1958 Mary (Bittner) Wiseman, current head of the St. John's New York Alumni Group, is an assistant professor of philosophy at Brooklyn College of the City University of New York. She earned an A.M. degree in philosophy from Harvard University and a doctorate from Columbia University. Mary is an active member of the Society for Women in Philosophy and a member of the board of St. Michael's Montessori School. She lives in Manhattan with her husband, Charles, and her twelve-year-old daughter, Emily O'Connor. 1960 Mary Galiagher, elected to the Board of Visitors and Governors at its January meeting in Santa Fe, is the co-author (with Thomas Brown and Rosemary Turner) of Teaching Seconda!y School English: Alternative Approaches (Columbus, Ohio: Charles E. Merrill Publishing Co., 197 5) . While Mary holds graduate degrees in linguistics, and has taught in that field at coliege level, she is also a grad- 28 nate of Harvard Law School, and is currently head of the Appellate Div~ion of the Office of the District Attorney of Suffolk County (Boston), Massachusetts. 1963 Educational Experiences, Inc., of Milton, N.H., headed by Frederick A. Gauteson, combines Fred's interests in teaching and sailing. During the summer he takes high-school age students on ocean trips, where the emphasis is on oceanography, sailing, and education. In addition, Fred and his seventy-year-old yawl, Maruffa, have worked with scientists from the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute, recOrding the sounds of sperm whales. One of the seven recipients of the 197 5 Awards of Merit from the San Francisco Bar Association was J. Morrow Otis. A member of the firm of Cotton, Seligman & Ray, Morrow was recognized for his continuous efforts to improve the organization of the County Clerks' Office. He and his wife, Carol (Dimit), make their home in Greenbrae, Cal. Gerald F. Zollars '65, Director of Admissions on the Santa Fe campus, forwarded an interesting letter from D. Michael Trusty. Michael is now a consultant to the City of Eureka Springs, Ark., and he and his wife are converting an "enormous old round stone fortress from an industrial building of 100 years to a house." 1965 Joseph P. Gonda received his doctorate in philosophy from Pennsylvania State University last November. The New York Times Book Review for January 4, 1976, contained a review by C. Grant Luckhardt of the book Animal Liberation, by Peter Singer (New York: A New York Review Book, Random House, 1975). Grant teaches philosophy at Georgia State University. Note: In view of the increasing amount of material we are receivin~ from and about Santa Fe alumni-and we are glad this is the case-we have decided to list separately the Annapolis and Santa Fe classes from 1968 on forward. We believe this will make it easier for alumni of the two campuses to locate items of specific interest to them. T. P.,Jr. 1968-Annapolis Elizabeth Dobbs this semester is an assistant professor in the English department at Hampton Institute in Hampton, Va. She has finished her Ph.D. degree work at the State University of New York at Buffalo. Her dissertation bore a title somewhat reminiscent of senior essay titles at St. John's: "Space in Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde; The Theory']} Fit or the Ethereal Fit." Sandra Hoban, according to a recent note from Bart Lee, is pursuing a Ph.D. degree in poetry from the University of Utah in Salt Lake City. She received her master's degree from Fresno (Cal.) State University last June. 1968-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: Bettina A. Briggs. Btuce R. Baldwin sends along information on what he has been doing since graduation: in 1970 he received the degree of Master of Urban Plannihg from the University of Michigan, and then spent two years in the Peace Corps in Honduras. He and Ena Prado were married in August 1973 and worked as apartment managers for a year in San Jose (Cal.). Since 1974 Bruce has been an assistant planner with the City of Fort Wayne, Ind. He and Ena are continuing their education through the Indiana University-Purdue extension courses, and are enjoying fixing up their old house. Bruce encourages old friends and acquaintances to write: 1232 Nuttman Avenue, Fort Wayne, IN 46807. Pl1ilip P. Chandler II is in his second year as an instructor in the Collegiate Seminar Program at the University of Notte Dame. Phil recently had published in the Annals of Science 32 ( 1975) an article entitled, "Clairaut's Critique of Newtonian Attraction: Some Insights into his Philosophy of Science." Last year Phil received the Ph.D. degree from the University of California at San Diego. Marilynne (Wills) Schell is Jiving in nrral Connecticut, teaching in a "lively, innovative elementary school" parttime, and working evenings in a pet shop. Maurie received her master's degree in elementary education from the University of Connecticut, Storrs. She .reports still enjoying creating with her hands, and has "rediscovered reading as a pleasurable activity!" Daughter Sasha, now in kindergarten, professes no interest in college because "it's too much work." Maurie adds that she would love to hear from Allison and Leslie. 1969-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: Frank H. Adams, Margaret Blum, Anne Chapin, William Cromartie, Jr., Mr. & Mrs. Craig Fansler, James Motrow Hall, Dorine Real, Carlton and Regan (Mensch) Severance, Melissa Smith, John Strange, Lee Tepper, Carol (Lightner) Tucker. Frank Adams writes, "in the midst of the Bicentennial ballyhoo around here (Boston) about Boston and the British, it is fun to think back to the Southwest and to know where actually it all began." Frank has spent the past year studying computers and writing programs for groups in the amnesty and antipoverty movements. 1970-Annapolis Our man in London, John R. Dean, finds that his post as editor of Sennet, the largest university publication in Europe, is difficult, challenging, and rewarding. In between editorial duties, his graduate studies apparently progress well. 1970-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: Jerry Beaton, Mr. & Mrs. Donald Hamilton, Susheila Horwitz. �April, 1976 1971-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: David Esdaie, Bonnie Gage, Gail (Hartshorne) Haggard, Dennis Plummer, Rebecca Schwab, Dolores Strickland. David Esdale reports· that he worked as a letter carrier for the Postal Service until November 1971, at which time he entered the Army for a four-month stint with the National Guard. He then taught junior high school, took graduate courses at Bridgewater State College for secondary school certification, and front September 1972 to June 1974 taught physics, environmental science, and earth science in Hyannis, Mass. He then entered the industrial engineering program at Northeastern University in Boston, as preparation for his present employment as assistant to the production manager at the Daystar Corporation, a manufacturer of solar energy equipment. 1972-Annapolis Jutting from the southwestern tip of Ireland into the North Atlantic are a number of barren, rocky islands; one of them, narrow, threemile-long Blasket, since 1974 has been the home of Anne Kilborn, formerly of Annapolis. Employed by the American owner of the island as caretaker and innkeeper, Anne leads a very busy life in the summer with the influx of visitors. Then she can easily work a sixteen-hour day, cooking and caring for mainlanders who visit the remote spot, first settled more than a thousand years ago, but now essentially abandoned. Anne raises vegetables in a large garden, eats what the rabbits leave her (and eats the rabbits as well), hauls by boat from the mainland what she cannot raise or make, and relies on seagulls for eggs. In the non-summer months she chops wood, cuts sod to burn in the furnace, repairs the house, knits by candlelight, and sews and writes letters and listens to the radio and plays the tin whistle. Indeed, she finds the summers more lonely than the other months, for with so many visitors she has almost no time for herself. Interviewed on a recent visit to Annapolis, Anne says she plans to return home again after this next summer season. 1972-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: Glenn C. Gladfelter, Jr., Grayson D. Hendricks, Anthony and Elisabeth (Dean) Jeffries, Herley D. Sharp. Theresa M. Baca since graduation has attended law school at the University of Pennsylvania, and has worked with different organ· izations and law offices in the area of civil rights. She graduated from law school last year, and is now living in Santa Fe and working for the New Mexico Human Rights Commission. 1973-Annapolis Deborah Achtenberg wrote in December that she is now living in New York City and studying philosophy at the New School Peter Davis lives in a "quaint house" in the mountains of southwestern Virginia, works as a reporter for the Roanoke Times, and says he is generally recovering an interest in r-eading "but not yet in the Great Books." After teaching mathematics in an Israeli kibbutz for two years, Deborah Schifter is now enrolled as a graduate student in mathematics at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Shiu Wong, doing .graduate study in mathematics at Rutgers University, finds the work tougher than he had imagined, in terms both of the study loads and "the impersonal competitive environment." 1973-Santa Fe 197 5-Alumni Giving: Galen and Jena (Morris) BreningstaH, Robert M. Hampton, Barbara A. Harry, Mark D. Jordan, Mr. & Mrs. Paul Knudsen, Kenneth Richman, Eric 0. Springsted. Richard Cohen writes: "I've been employed since May 1973 at the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco as a reports analyst in foreign exchange and foreign currency. It is a rough form of systems analysis, not utilizing the tools of economics, but the fundamental tools of logic and reason I developed· at St. John's. I am two-thirds completed with the Masters in Public Administration program at Golden Gate Unive.rsity . . . . My main outside interest is in music, mainly blues. However, outside of the blues, I have become impressed with an astonishing musician, Robbie Basho. His attempt to forge classical, Eastern Indian, Persian, American Indian, and American music into a coherent whole as a raison d' ~tre for the steel string guitar has succeeded, in my opinion." Seth Cropsey is working in the editorial department of Public Interest magazine in New York City. 197 4-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: Ymelda (Martinez) Allison, Mark Belanger, Sally R. Bell, Daniel L. Blake, Barbara R. Fishel, Catherine A. Gordon, Elliot A. Marseille, Daniel E. Matelski, Donald Merrieil, Lester S. Silver, Phillip B. Weathers. Maria Kwong informs us that a newly-pub. lished book, Handmade Toys and Games, by Laury and Law, features many of her early toys. Included are a few wooden dolls she made during her sophomore year on the Santa Fe campus. Also, one of her fabrics was accepted by an international student design show at the University of Kansas this past winter. Maria graduated in January from Immaculate Heart College in Los Angeles with a major in art. She celebrated the event with Denis Yaro S75, Bob Hampton S73, Larry Dutton S74, and Steve Goldman S73. Harvard Law School, says David Gross, is "hectic beyond belief," with an incredible volume of things to learn, and little time in which to learn them. He thinks the faculty are a real "plus," and the students generally of very high caliber. One aspect he finds different from Shiu Wong's experience (see 1973-Annapolis): he believes his law school classmates are too busy competing with the material to compete with each othe.r! Kate Gordon, also at Harvard, is studying Russian and working at the Harvard Center for Population Studies. 1975-Santa Fe 1975 Alumni Giving: David Alcott, Gershon A. Ekman, Rani Kalita, Mr. & Mrs. 'Thomas J. Myers, Boyd C. Pratt. Elizabeth (Strider) Dain is married to Westy Dain S76 who is studying physics and mathematics at Cornell University and working in the astronomy-space sciences laboratory. This is a far cry from St. John's, but it is what Westy wants to do and he enjoys it. Betsy had a wonderful job last summer and fall at a tree and shrub nursery outside Ithaca, and is also working at the Cornell Bookstore. Denis Yaro and his brother have been operating a snack food distributorship in the San Diego (Ca.l.) area, but recently sold out to a larger distributor, the Finch Company. Denis is now working for Finch. Staff Notes-Santa Fe David lrwil;l, a clarinetist who was a member last year of the first Ya1efSt. John's Co11ege Consort, has been at Andover this year. In addition to teaching an introductory course in music, he gives private lessons on clarinet and saxophone, has three guitar classes, one recorder class, teaches a course in film animation, directs the Jazz Band,_ and generally manages to keep busy musically. He reports that the other members of the first Consort-Mary Posses, Manuel Maramba, Richard Weinhaus, and David Gordon-all seem to be doing well. In Memoriam 1900-B. Lee Hutchinson, Park Hills, Ky. 1915-Col. Philip K. Moisan, Baltimore, Md., March 21, 1976. 1922-Dr. James C. Owings, Baltimore, Md, 1923-John W. O'Brien, Laurel, Md. 1926-Dr. Cedric C. Carpenter, Morristown, N.J., January 26, 1976. 1927-Fuiton Catlin, Almond, N.Y. 1931-Lawrence L. Monnett, Jr., Brookfield, Conn., March 21, 1976. 1933-Samuel L. Bare, Jr., Westminster, Md., February, 1975. 1933-Daniel J. Ward, Glen Rock, N.J., November 12, 1976. 1935-Benjamin S. Elliott, Laurel, Md., March 25, 1976. 1952-Ernest T. Tibbetts, Cambridge, Md. �The College St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland 21404 Second-class postage paid at Annapolis, Maryland, and at additional mailing offices. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>The College </em>(1969-1981) Description An account of the resource St. John's College's Office of the Dean published <em>The College</em> from 1969 to 1981. The publication superseded <em><a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/37" title="The Bulletin of St. John's College">The Bulletin of St. John's College</a></em>.  <em>The College</em> was in turn continued by <a href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/collections/show/13" title="The St. John's Review"><em>The St. John's Review</em></a> in 1981.  <br /><br />A separate magazine for St. John's alumni titled <em>The College </em>began publication in 2001, continuing <em>The St. John's Reporter</em>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="The College" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=12">Items in the The College Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Santa Fe, NM Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context thecollegemagazine Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 28 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of College Relations Title A name given to the resource The College, April 1976 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1976-04 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource von Oppen, Beate Ruhm Parran, Jr., Thomas Dunham, William B. Oosterhout, Barbara Brunner Wyatt, E. Malcolm Zuckerman, Elliott Description An account of the resource Volume XXVIII, Number 1 of The College. Published in April 1976. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context The_College_Vol_28_No_1_1976 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf The College