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The Trinity Review, December 1952

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december 1952 EDITORIAL BOARD

THE TRINITY REVIEW Published by the Undergraduate Students of Trinity College

BARNUM L. CoLTON Hartford 6, Connecticut Editor-in-Chief VoL. VII DECEMBER, 1952 No. 1

WINTHROP W . FAULKNER TABLE OF CONTENTS Executive Editor

WILLIAM R. WHrrELAW A Note on Shelley ...... John R. Burrill

Business Manager ::::::l Garden } ···························------William Laufer 2

Days After Victory ------··--·····--· ----·-·-·--·------Jac1(_ Boyer 3 ROGER ]. HARMoN Fate ·--·-- -·-·----- ·--·------·------...... ------...... ]oh n H a.sler 4 Circulation Manager Mysticism ------Walter. M. L. Brown, Jr. 5 Some Poems For Your Consideration ....Wilson G. Pinney 7 Gum Boots ------·------Patterson Keller 8 Voltaire: Man of Justice (a review) ------Paul Terry 10 The Snake ------.Douglas S. Green 12 Fools' Tools ------.John Hasler 13

WILLIAM DoBROVIR America the Odorless ------William A. Dobrovir 14

]ERALD E. HATFIELD ~;:~tioo } ······················································John .H&lcr 15 P ATTERSON KELLER To Dowse or Not to Dowse ------Richard L. Hirsch 16 ] OHN SAMOYLEN KO Night Motor Guard ------'------.Jac 1(_ Boyer 16

STEWART WooDRUFF

Published three times during the college year at Trinity College. Address: Box 198, Trinity College. Subscription rates: 1 year, $1.50. Printed in U. S. A. by the Bond Press, Inc., Hartford, Connecticut. There are three nice things about the REVIEW: contributions, but rather interpretation and direc­ you don't have to buy it, you don't have to read it tion of policy. The content of the magazine is sup­ and you don't have to write it. What more could posed to represent the literary expression of the en­ you ask of a college literary magazine? As a matter tire student body. This is your magazine; if you of fact you do have to buy it, but the college makes have something worth saying, it is worth saying it it easy for you by taking the printing expenses out here. of your tuition. And many people do read it and The board is primarily interested in papers writ­ ten for the REVIEW and not for classroom work; if however, you feel that a paper prepared for a course would be of interest to the rest of the student body, the board will be happy to consider it for publication. On the following pages there are a number of articles worthy of the reader's attention. On page one, Mr. Burrill has some interesting ideas on ap­ proaching the poetry of Shelley. Mr. Walter Brown intelligently discusses Mysticism (page 5), and Mr. Paul Terry presents some interesting aspects of Voltaire's life on page 10. Short stories by Messrs. Boyer, Keller and Green show better than average a certain few even write for it. We are very grate­ writing ability we believe. ful to these last two groups, they make life inter­ esting for the motley group of board members. You have no idea how adventurous life can be until you We would like to call to your attention the ex­ try your hand at a literary publication. Usually we hibition of Amy Lowe Award Paintings hanging receive four or five articles by deadline time, and then, after a certain amount of begging and threat­ ening, we get a good number of articles, but there is always that air of uncertainty. We almost al­ ways manage to produce three issues a year, and we get some consolation by reading other under­ graduate publications which seem to have similar tribulations. The most trying problem of the REVIEW is that Trinity students do not become interested in it until their junior or senior year, which means in the second floor of the library. It contains some that most of the material submitted represents the excellent examples of modem expression in oil endeavours of only half of the student body. Under­ paint. Also worthy of . mention is the beautiful classmen, it seems, do not realize the nature of the presentation of Handel's Messiah by the Oratorio magazine. The REVIEW is made up of a nine Chorale under the direction of Herbert A . France, man board. The board's job is not the actual writ­ which was presented December 7 at the Bushnell ing of the magazine, although they make many Memorial. A NOTE ON SHELLEY By John R. Burrill

I It is our conviction of the truth of what these state­ ments have in common, and the belief that this N reading a poet we should, ideally, remem­ truth refers to the bulk of Shelley's poetry, that is ber the tradi~ional ~hristian imprecation to the experience which keeps us from approaching 0 become as httle children again, or recall his poetry with complete innocence. Blake's demand for innocence as a sine qua non of true vision. But, for good or evil, any poetry calls II up different parts of our experience (and Blake The basic strategy of the Medieval poet was to knew something about this, too), and is judged by objectify his inner attitudes through the moral cate­ its relation to them. The most that we can hope to gories given him by his religion into allegorical fig­ do is to approach a poet, insofar as we can, in terms ures. In such 11 scheme, regardless of the feelings of our literary experience, aware that there are lim­ of the poet, 'Lust' and 'Avarice' would behave as itations in our ability to do so, but knowing that they were expected to behave. Blake said of Chau­ literary experience is in a degree public and capa­ cer, "-as Newton numbered the stars, and as ble of being shared and modified in ways that our Linnaeus numbered the plants, so Chaucer number­ childhood memories, our tastes for food, drink, and ed the classes of men." It was the class that was im­ the opposite sex are not. portant, and the classes were defined as moral ab­ For his own time and the Victorian age which solutes exterior to the poet. After Spenser the strate­ followed it, Shelley might, with some accuracy, be gy shifted and the emphasis fell upon the behavior spoken of as the "poet's poet," but we order these Df individuals in particular situations. Given this things differently today. We are reminded, for in­ individual in this situation, the poet asks how he stance, that Shelley was Swinburne's poet, and that would behave, or, as important to a poet, what he Swinburne is in no sense ours. Or, we cannot make would say. The individuals have become self con­ up our minds about Shelley without remembering scious, and argue the relative merits of alternate what Arnold has said of him and Byron, that "their moral absolutes, and ask which ones are operative in names will be greater than their writings." While their particular cases. The romantic poet combines we know that Arnold has his limitations, we also these two strategies in his own peculiar way: he know that he is not to be dismissed lightly, without, becomes his own hero (the Renaissance individual in as Mr. Eliot has said of Johnson, "having assimilat­ a situation), and he defines his own moral cate­ ed . .. (his) .. . canons of taste." We could cite gories (the Medieval poet's church) . The poet's other occasions which keep the moderately literate standards become absolute, and there can be no reader from approaching Shelley with anything such thing as a failure of feeling or of imagination, like innocence, but we should only be skirting the since there is no exterior check, no reality to which main issue, which has been well attended in our they refer themselves except their own. time. Mr. Eliot has made the point directly: With Mr. Murry's formulation of Classicism I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed and Romanticism I cannot agree; the differ­ One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud. ence seems to me rather the difference be· tween the complete and the fragmentary We are not likely to accept Shelley's feelings in the adult and the immature the orderly and the chaotic. ' this matter, and we are not apt to find them justi· Mr. Stevens, in a different context, and without all fied imaginatively in this case. Metaphorically we Mr. Eliot's irons in his fire, has said: have a weight of hours that chains, and while we understand what the poet is getting at, we are not The imagination is one of the great human poV:'ers .. The ro'?antic belittles it. The imagi· imaginatively gratified by such diffusion. Of the nat1on IS the hberty of the mind. The ro• last line we are inclined to ask why "too like mantic is the failure to make use of that li_berty. ~t i ~ to the imagination what sen• thee," rather than "not enough like thee," since trmentality IS to feeling. It is a failure of we don't expect to find the West Wind chained the imagination precisely as sentimentality is a failure of feeling. and bowed. These are prosaic considerations, per-

Vol. VII, No. 1 haps, but it is precisely a failure of the poetic which III occasions them. We have been generali4ing from slight evidence, A glance at other parts of the West Wind ode knowing that we could, if necessary, multiply ex­ will rather enforce this judgment than dissipate it. amples, but aware also that the mere piling up of The same wind that, like an "enchanter," drives evidence would not serve to make our point of view the dead leaves, becomes a stream on which the any clearer, or to prove it in the sense that things clouds, like "decaying leaves" are shed. There is, are proved in a laboratory. But there are necessary in Shelley's mind, or his feeling, some equation be­ modifications to be made. The sort of general con­ tween these latter and the earlier leaves; the simi­ dition we have been pointing out does not, obvious­ larity is, for us, tenuous. The clouds, "Shook from ly, comprehend all of Shelley's poetic practise. Even the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean," are out of its context, this song from Charles the First "Angels of rain and lightning." We ask: what is a satisfying experience, however minor: boughs, how tangled, and where or why Angels, A widow bird sate mourning for her love except for the fact that Heaven was mentioned? Upon a wintry bough; The necessity for these things is subjective, and it The frozen wind crept on above, The freezing stream below. is Shelley's, and we are not likely to recogni4e it There was no leaf upon the forest bare, No flower upon the ground, as ours. And little motion in the air In his essay on the Effects of Analogy, Wallace Except the mill-wheel's sound. Stevens cites three aspects of the poetic image : each The simple, more perfect beauty of: image, he points out, is an elaboration of the par­ Music, when soft voices die, ticular subject of the image; each image is a re­ Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, statement of this subject in terms of an attitude; Live within the sense they quicken. each image is an intervention on the part of the Rose leaves, when the forest is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; image maker. Of the last, Stevens says that it mat­ And so thy thoughts, when thou att gone. ters least. In Shelley, it is what strikes us first. The Love itself shall slumber on. poet intervenes, he states his attitude. If the par­ is the product of a fine poetic talent, working at ticular of the subject interferes with the statement, something like 99% efficiency, and moments such it is the particular which gets slighted. Insofar as as these serve to modify our general considerations. our first interest is poetry, we feel somewhat cheat­ We become, at such moments, innocent by way of ed. being experienced.

THE FORMAL GARDEN Never again shall song STONEHENGE Of nightingale or lark Gladden these quiet hearts. Silent evidence Once, in this quartered, circled garden, Of old, cold aspirations, Beneath the shattered manse, The rotting pilings There were flowers and glory; Of the fallen wharf But in their place now reign Stand in the muck and sand. Weeds and decay, a grave. Babel-like they seek the sky. Now only surrounding trees, How long until Tall and solemn in their mien, Some God-like hand Mourn this fall of Troy. Swoops low to press Sod is gray below, Sky is gray above ; Them to the muck and sand? Who has found on earth below What heaven shall be above? - William H. Laufer, '56. -William H. Laufer, '56.

2 The Trinity Review DAYS AFrER VICTORY

By Jack Boyer

HE jeep drew to a stop in front of the Cafe his crossed arms, wrinkled sleeves soaked in a pud­ Krone, wheels shushing gently in the hard­ dle of beer. The blond Midwestern face was al­ T packed snow. "Leave it in gear," said Sergeant most childlike in repose. He wore the shoulder patch Hildreth, as the driver jerked up the handbrake. of an artillery battalion, with the single stripe of "Leave it in gear, the street's prety slick tonight." a private first class, gold chevron on dull olive­ The corporal beside him gave the stick a vicious drab. Hildreth grasped his shoulder and gently shove into second, flicked off the ignition switch, shook him; the boy's head rolled off his crossed and turned expectantly toward Hildreth. There was arms and fell against the dirty plank table. The an unspoken disquietude in his second's pause; a sergeant continued his steady shaking. pause of uncertainty quickly dispelled as he gazed "C'mon, fella, time to get home-time to wake from the lights of the Krone to the impassive face up, boy-", Hildreth kept up the monotonous pat­ beside him. "O.K., Sarge?" ter, gentle as the shaking itself. The man at the Sgt. Willis Hildreth, R.A. 16460204, 628th table opened his fuddled eyes, blinked groggily, and Military Police Company, fumbled clumsily at the then self-consciously pulled at the soiled necktie as jeep door with gloved hands. He stood for a min­ awareness returned. It was something you had to ute in the snow-smooth street, adjusted the pistol learn, Hildreth reflected with a bit of pride, some­ belt on his hips, and walked slowly towards the thing the manuals couldn't teach you. Wake 'em door of the Krone "Well,"---over his shoulder to up gentle, thought the sergeant, and they'll go with the man behind him "-let's see what we got here you gentle. this time-" and turned his back to the dim arc­ With Bailey taking one arm and Hildreth the lamps of the village street as he swung open the other, they managed to get the man on his feet. door. He stood there, a quizzical half-smile on his face. Cafe Krone ~as small, Bavarian, and gemutlich "Get your cap, soldier," snapped Hildreth: the -an atmosphere redolent of stale beer, briar-fouled time for gentleness had gone with the first flush of tobacco, and the overwhelming smell of mist-wet alcohoL The artilleryman turned and slowly reached wooL Above the stained pine bar, with the properly for the overseas cap hanging on the wall, but failed blank face of a presiding deity, was the mask of a to notice the table from which he had just risen. badly stuffed boar, while the walls of the room He tripped, lost his balance, and, clutching at Bailey were studded with the antlers of red deer and elk. for support, succeeded only in bringing them both The smoke-crowned tables to the rear were fully oc­ to the floor. The table followed with a crash, but cupied, or almost so; those nearer the door were all even over the din Hildreth was conscious of the but deserted. A battered piano, formidable looking sniggering undercurrent of laughter to the rear of but relegated by age to purely decorative functions, the room. stood in a far corner. He whirled quickly, hand on his pistol holster, Heeltaps on Corporal Bailey's jump-boots clat­ and the low chuckling ceased as though it had never tered noisily against the floor, but the silence of been. The impassive silence that had descended up­ the room seemed to have anticipated the opening on the room with the entrance of the patrol dropped of the door. It was a waiting, almost amused silence, again: only the fleeting wraiths of smiles were re­ like that of an expectant audience before the cur­ vealed through the smoke. Kraut bastards, Hildreth tain calL The patrol felt it defensively; the two thought furiously, bastards wouldn't 'a done that men halted momentarily, outlined against the damp­ two years back. He felt an almost foreign tightness beaded windows that faced on the street. Then, inside, and took a step forward, hand still on his without a word, they moved toward the table near­ holster flap; then, realizing the stupidity, the use­ est the door. lessness of the gesture, dropped his hand to his side The soldier there lay with his head pillowed on again. Ah, what the hell's the use, he muttered, and

VoL VII, No. 1 3 turned angrily, trying vainly to overcome the knowl­ realization he shrugged off the dead weight of the edge of the half-smiles behind him, and the shame­ artilleryman from his shoulder and made a rush ful sense of his own impotence. toward the open door. He turned to see Bailey supporting the drunken "Bailey!" artilleryman with one hand, while attempting to Even as he paused the corporal could sense some­ set the table upright. "Get him outside," he growled thing missing from Hildreth's voice. He stood rest­ between his teeth, and Bailey, looking up at him lessly where he was, inches from the yellow oblong with scared and puzzled eyes, dragged his burden of the door. toward the door. Hildreth righted the table with "Bailey! Dammit, soldier, move it back here­ a vicious thump and again faced the group of im­ fast!" passive Teutonic faces behind him. The smiles had almost disappeared, he saw with satisfaction: by "But, Sarge-" God, he said to himself, they still know who won There was no response, but Bailey stepping back the war. For an instant the ticking of the big Al­ a pace sensed the tiredness in the sergeant's voice penwald clock was the only sound in the room, as before he saw the sag of his shoulders and the droop he stared around the circle of faces, daring them to of his jaw. "Grab his feet" said the curiously wood­ laugh, to smile, to do anything. There was no re­ en voice beside him, and together they managed sponse; the almost forgotten combat-constriction had to get the limp body of the p.f.c. into the jeep. They passed, and the smoke-wreathed faces seemed to stood outside the jeep, breathing heavily from the take on the withdrawn, almost servile expression exertion, with the echoes of the laughter from the that he was accustomed to after five years of occu­ cafe still ringing in their ears. pation duty. He felt assured, satisfied, exhilarated. "Take 'er back to the barracks," said Hildreth Crossing the room to the door, he opened it for the slowly. They climbed into the jeep: Bailey gunned heavily-laden Bailey and preceded him to the wait­ the engine brutally and the wheels whined, spun, ing jeep. and gathered traction in the snow as they sped up The clear, mocking "Auf Wiedersehn!", came the street. He kept his mind on the street ahead as they had gotten halfway to the jeep. Hildreth with a fierce determination, taking each corner as stopped abruptly; the corporal's startled query came if it could erase the evening's memories. But the a split second before the loud jeering laughter sergeant's thoughts were still on the ringing echoes rolled from the doors of the Krone. For a minute at the Krone-the echoes that had, finally for him, Bailey stood there uncomprehending. Then in swift obscured the memories of the days after victory.

FATE High above the teeming mass of life I sit amazed and gaze within; For once I was amid that bitter strife, But now released by someone else's sin, I can, without false ties, begin To understand my long lost kin. At last I see those chosen paths of fate Which mold men's lives within life's maze, And now between yon slowly swinging gate Arises passing light from yesterdays. Again I see the same young hopeful race So far across the lifeless span of space. I even see their reaching rays of hope; The only healing force within their scope. But here my story ends, though somewhat late, I cannot see my chosen path of fate. -John Hasler .

4 The Trinity Review MYSTICISM

By Walter M. L. Brown, Jr.

"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven"

HIS term implies the ability to experi.ence a stand a mystic. A mystic usually finds the sensation of union with God. Mystlcs be­ general populace cannot understand him. T lieve they have knowledge of spiritual (2) Noetic quality-mystical states seem to things which the natural intellect is unable to at­ those who experience them to be states tain. The term does not apply to any particular sys­ of knowledge. They are states of insight tem or religion, but most religions have elements of into depths of truth undiscovered by dis­ mysticism. It is fundamentally an emotion or feel­ cursive intellect. They are really illumi­ ing, and is accompanied by an exaltation which ren­ nations or revelations. ders the individual passive and oblivious to all that is material. God becomes an experience to him. The These two marks will entitle any state of mind emotion need not be interpreted religiously, al­ to be called mystic, but there are two other marks though that is the most fertile field. Music, drugs, which are usually, but not always present. nature and objects of great beauty may produce the same feeling. Savages have introduced the sensation (3) Transiency-Mystical states cannot be by their weird emotional dances and hypnotic tom­ sustained for long except in rare instan­ tom accompaniment. Mysticism is a philosophy, an ces; half an hour, or at most an hour or illusion, an insight, a kind of religion, a disease; it two, seems to be the limit beyond which means having visions, believing in God, leading an they fade into the light of common day. idle dreamy and selfish life, neglecting external and ( 4) Passivity-Although mystical experience material business, wallowing in vague spiritual emo­ may be brought on by certain bodily per­ tions and being in tune with the infinite. formances, etc., one usually feels as if his Many people have asked how we pair off mys­ own will is at abeyance and sometimes as tical states of existence from other states? Accord­ if he was grasped and held by a superior ing to William James, the difference between a mys­ power. You usually cannot bring yourself tic state and other states of consciousness is dis­ to a mystical state; some higher being tinguished by four marks, which justify us in call­ draws you into it. ing an experience, mystical. There is considerable disagreement among scholars as to whether a per­ Mystical states although they are ineffable, a son is really mentally conscious when he experiences memory of their content always remains and the a mystical revelation, but for purposes of definition, inner life of a person who has gone through a mys­ we will class it as a state of consciousness. The four tical state is always modified by it. marks are as follows: Evelyn Underhill attempts to define mysticism ( 1) Ineffability-or something which cannot in the following way: "Mysticism is the art of union be expressed in speech, or something with Reality. The mystic is a person who has at­ which is too lofty or scared for verbal ex­ tained that union in greater or lesser degree; or pression. In some respects, mystical states who aims at and believes in such attainment." are more like states of feeling than like Mysticism takes on many forms, and has a great states of intellect. One must have musical many adaptations. All of us have experienced some ears to know the value of a symphony; of its simplest forms, but only the inspired few have one must have been in love oneself to uw had mystic revelations of God. The simplest form derstand a lover's state of mind, and one is the deepened significance of a formula or maxim must have a mystical experience to under- which suddenly sweeps over a person. Many times

Vol. VII, No. 1 5 we have heard a person say, 'Tve heard that all where I have triumphed in a solitude that God is my life, but I never realized its full meaning until not above." now," and most times these persons have had a mys­ My particular interest in this essay, is mysticism, tical revelation. Martin Luther, a man who devoted as a means of direct intercourse with God. Inter­ his whole life to the church, when middle aged, course not through any external media such as an claims to have been inspired after hearing a fellow historical revelation, oracles, or answers to prayers, monk read, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." but by some indefinable means in which the individ­ Luther had read the line thousands of times, but af­ ual becomes a part of divine nature; God ceases to ter the mystic revelation he said, "I saw the scrip­ be an object to him,. and becomes an experience. Re­ ture in an entirely new light, and straightway I felt ligious mysticism is an endeavor of the human mind as if I were born anew. It was as if I had found to grasp the divine essence or the ultimate reality the door of Paradise thrown wide open." Words, of things, and to enjoy the blessedness of actual odors, music all bring it about when the mind is communion with the Highest. Modem religion is tuned right. Most of us can remember the strange­ ordinarily interested in the practical and useful side ly moving power of certain passages of lyric poetry of the problem of Divinity and develops a theory we read, and from these we probably had a mystic and theology around an ethical and moral code and sensation. Mystical experience is found in a very works from man to God. In mysticism, man does frequent phenomena, that feeling of "having been not work toward God and God does not work here before", as if in some indefinite past time. Sir toward man; they are brought together by some James Crichton-Browne has given the technical mysterious and uncontrollable power. Although name of "dreamy states" to these sudden invasions mysticism is essentially immanent there are very of vaguely reminiscent consciousness. Over-indul­ few people who will not agree that it has some gence in this type of mysticism may lead to intro­ transcendental qualities. version and insanity. The consciousness produced The mind trained in the dogma of a modem wes­ by intoxicants and anesthetics, especially by alcohol tern religion believes in objects which must remain is believed to be a mystic state, even though most for him invisible here on earth; in mystical exper­ modern philosophers regard the reaction as purely ience he seeks to bridge the gap which separates pathological. William James says, "The sway of him from them. With religion, mysticism stands alcohol over mankind is unquestionably due to its on common ground, being itself a form of religious power to stimulate the mystical faculties of human experience. Its object is indeed the object of all re­ nature, usually crushed to earth by the cold facts ligion. It is nothing less than the actual vision and and dry criticisms of the sober hour. Sobriety di­ experience of God, which is the final consummation minishes, discriminates and says no; drunkenness of all that is sought by religious practices of any expands, unites and says yes." Alcohol makes man kind. The mystic attains while on earth to some de­ for a moment ·one with God and Reality. Not gree immediate and experimental knowledge of through perversity do men run after it. To the poor God, religion in general remits this final reward to and ignorant it stands in place of a symphony con­ another state of existence. Here on earth God is cert, or lyric poetry. The drunken consciousness is known indirectly, or theoretically, through His one small part of the mystic consciousness, and great works, and His direct influence is seen only our opinion of it must find its place in our opinion in the action of divine benevolence and mercy. of that larger whole. Many well educated and It has been abundantly shown that mysticism is prominent philosophers believe in the anesthetic rev­ in a true sense different in kind, and not merely in elation with chloroform, nitrous oxide or some other degree, from prayer and contemplation of the nat­ drug. Benjamin F. Blood, an American philosopher, ural order. But it does not follow by any means that attempts to describe as follows his anesthetic reve­ the two are to be regarded as radically distinct, or lation: as mutually independent. On the contrary, there is "Into this pervading genius we pass, forgetting a very different connection between them, and to and forgotten, and thenceforth each is all, in God. many people prayer and contemplation are substi­ There is no higher, no deeper, no other than the tutes for mysticism. life in which we are founded. The One remains, There is a mystical element in prayer. Whenever the many change and pass; and each and every one it rises to the level of real communion. Everybody of us is the One that remains. This is the ultima­ who prays knows the difference between uttering tum. As sure as being-when is all our care-so sure requests and repeating beautiful phrases, and com- is content, beyond duplexity, antithesis, or trouble (Continued on page 17)

6 The Trinity Review SOME POEMS FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION:

I III Here, Hindemith, Danse Macabre tear me from my restful pose The black night-air vulture dash me against the concert walls dug talons into the young against your spikes and jagged edges. white-rabbit snow Revel in my steaming crimson A shining disc of black spattering on the plush dug by a metal baton the gold leaf and the black. droned the chords of Danse Macabre Now pummel me with sound Beat of the devil with ponderous song pulsed throughout the scene and victory's jubilation The music stopped, the dance went on set my soul in pulse with yours as the white wind gnawed caress my eardrums at a woman shovelling snow. with your subtlety. Rip me, quickly now, IV and strongly, Unfinished Symphony carry me over your rocks and sea froth hell You are my song of love up, up to the awful power. Whirling echoes from above Let me strain with arm Hold me don't let me go outstretched to touch Learn the secrets lovers know. this thing so near . . . The killing frost set Then stop. And love died Another pair met II As two lied. In squalor yet above The ring was always loose Silent Night, Holy Night A little snap and it was gone I look upon the city Black and gold Tucked in sheets of snow Bound no more the two All is calm all is bright The one And see through the neon haze The gold-black "0" The humming halos Had broken Of another age The work it should or could have done Round yon virgin mother and child Was left unfinished Of birth, of calmest peace Unfinished are the kisses Of death, of chaotic strife Two lips instead of four Of youthful primativity Speak and yet are heard no more And aged thought's nativity The sweet transition lost Holy infant so tender and mild The theme-thread broken Where dissatisfaction modifies, chaos slacks Cut and ended Icicles raise fingers to the wind's lips No finale, no last chord And the stars beam silently Nothing but a final Sleep in heavenly peace. Amputation . ..

-Wilson G. Pinney, '54

Vol. VII, No. 1 7 GUM BOOTS

By Patterson Keller

y fourth morning dawned damp and cold. were running with water and came up to join me in I jumped into the boat with the agility of the bow. M an elephant. Pains shot ,through my stom­ The spray blended perfectly with the dull iron ach and leg muscles as I tried to absorb the jar of gray of the sky. There seemed to be no sky. The the four foot leap. My gum boots, turned down water reached up in mist to complete a perfect from the waist, flapped awkwardly on my legs as transition with the grey air above. As we went on, I shuffled up to the bow and sat down on the low the transition became more apparent, but never cabin. Gus lifted the top off the engine house, reached complete. The sun would never break out to separ­ down and touched the starter. The engine turned over ate sky, air, and water. sluggishly, caught one or twice, and died. He pulled "Let's try Watch Goose point, it should be cam the choke out a little more and ran the throttle lev­ under the lee thar." er back and forth over the quadrant. He touched I mumbled assent. Gus pulled on the tiller line the starter button again. The engine started. I threw sending us in an even curve over to the shore near the damp still lines ashore. Gus put the motor in gear. a bed in the river. It almost died again, but he choked it some more un­ "Slow'er down a little." til it picked up speed. We glided out of the slip, out I moved aft with dull feet to move the throttle of the creek, and passed the gas pumps where an back with dull fingers. Gus lined the boat up with attendant gave us a sleepy but hopeful look. He was an outbuilding on Watch Goose Farm and a tall doomed to disappointment for we passed him and pine several hundred yards down the shore. went on out into the open river. Gus opened the "That's good." throttle about three-quarters. The engine missed I cut the engine, walked to the stern, and with several times but soon caught to run in earnest as aching awkward movements threw the grappling she felt her oil begin to warm to the task. The bow hook overboard. I let the line pay out a while, and lifted as the water curled up against the flare only then tightened my hands on the stiff rough line. to be thrown out in a graceful V behind us. The The anchor caught, came loose, and caught again. noisy engine became a muffled throbbing as the I braced myself trying to bring the boat to a stop. cooling water ran through her and was thrown out The line cruelly cut into fresh blisters as the boat the exhaust in short intervals. The vapor hugged the came to an unwilling stop. smooth rolling rooster tail which formed behind the "We'll try'er here." boat. The wake fought with the sharp chop of the I bent painfully over and pulled up my boots. I river only to flatten out as the wind conquered the put on my stiff cold rubber gloves. The gloves made intruding waves from the boat. The sea was not my stiff hands almost immobile. I put one foot pain­ heavy enough to cause much motion as the power­ fully up on the washboard, and tried to haul the fully driven boat shoved the water aside. Every so other up after it. The gently rocking boat tossed often the bow would rise gracefully to a larger wave. me down on the floor boards. Then as if angered at being so influenced, it would "Take'er slow. It'll take right smart a time before come down on the wave's smaller successors with a you get used to it." jarring smack. A fine mist driven by a wind just I looked over to the voice. There was Gus, tall off the bow wetted everything in the after section and rugged against the gray sky, smiling not un­ of the boat in such an insidious manner that Gus kindly down at me. Getting back to my feet quickly, did not realize he was wet until the warmth of the I climbed back on the washboard safely. I reached morning walk had worn off. He saw that his oilskins down, picked up the long smooth shafts of my tongs,

8 The Trinity Review and let the heads fall into the water. The long an oil stove. The sandwiches were good. The coffee smooth shafts slipped through my gloved hands was better. The half-mildewed life preservers com­ until the heads touched bottom. The shafts were bined with the grease in the bilge, the oil of the hewn out of cedar by hand. They had been worn stove, and the smell of a forgotton pot of salted eel by many hands until the soft wood had been worn under the seats, to produce an atmosphere of relax­ away, and the harder parts had been left in grainy ation and contentment. relief. They were rough; yet when wet, were almost I heard the sound of a motor outside and opened silky to the touch. the door. The state police boat was pulling along side. I kept the shafts close together, gently lifting the Gus and I helped him with his lines as he came heads from the bottom and then letting them back aboard. down to feel if there was anything hard under the "Pretty orsters," he said stooping down to see rakes. I edged a little further along the washboard and if we had any undersize ones in the boat. "The men let the heads touch bottom again. I felt a scraping in deeper water are getting more, but their's not as the metal heads touched something hard and running to any size. See one down there a'most's as transmitted the sound and feel up the shafts and big as your foot. Got to move on t'the other boats. into my hands. I separated the shafts, opening the Bye now." jaws of the tongs. Gus and I cleared the culling board. We knocked "That's it, dig and lift at the same time-No, the muscles off the legal ones and threw the under­ close the handles when you pull up. Keep it up now size overboard. We tonged for an hour more, but 'til you think the rakes are full." the wind had freshened so as to make the rakes I had been told this a hundred times if once, still unmanageable. I kept quiet, closed the shafts together, and hand ov­ As I lifted the anchor into the boat, Gus started er hand began lifting the rakes from the bottom. My the engine. The bow lifted, and the stern dug down arms and shoulders ached as I lifted. The ache was as we moved away from the shore. The buy-boat not on the surface anymore, but deep and diffused was anchored about half way in. Another boat was so that I did not feel any particular part of my just pulling away from her side. We did not have to ache. The ache was the deep ache that comes from wait and immediately tied up along her side. A man muscles moved only by pride. on the buy-boat lowered the basket to us. We filled The rake heads appeared at the water's surface. it twelve and a half times. I reached down, grasped the shafts close to the heads "There's a good breeze a wind coming," some and swung the heads inboard. The wind fought one yelled down to us, "best you get in." against the long shafts, but I managed to get the The wind broke up the iron grey. The afternoon heads over the culling board stretched between suddenly broke clear and crisp. A northwester piled the washboards. After fumbling a bit, I was able to the water almost over our stern as we headed in. The open the rakes, spilling their contents onto the board. engine would race as we slipped down the breaking "You didn't lift enough. Too much mud for seas. The stern then would dig in until the next what'cli you got. You're not even going to help me wave began to slide under us. It would have hard pay th' gas that a way." going if we had had to put our bow into the seas. At that Gus lifted his rakes full, and opened them As it was a whole world of sunlight, water, and air on the board with a great clattering. He smiled spilled into our thoughts and bodies. wisely and went on about his work. We brought the boat into her slip. The reverse The morning went on. My aches disappeared. gear whined. The day was over. Four days of oyster­ Once in a while I was encouraged by full tongs, ing were behind me, and ten lay ahead. but as yet was still not doing a third of the work "Evening,-see you in the morning." Gus was. That was the first time that Gus had made ref­ The only break came when we went into the erence to the next day. I had no trouble lifting cabin to eat lunch. The cozy cabin was warmed by "" the gum boots homeward.

Vol. VII, No. 1 9 VOLTAIRE: MAN OF JUSTICE

A Review by Paul Terry

ITH the death of Louis XIV in 1715, In a comparatively short time the penitent Francais­ France was faced with the serious prob­ Marie handed his instructor the following lines: lem of succession to the throne. Louis' W "Farewell, my poor snuff-box, only heir was his great-grandson, then but an in· I ne'er shall see thee more! fant in the crib. In his will Louis bequeathed the To me, not any tears or prayers My treasure can restore. regency to Phillippe-Auguste, the favorite of his Farewell, unhappy snuff-box dozen illegitimate offspring. The nobles of France, That on my heart I bore. Could gold and silver ransom thee however, were horrified at the thought of being I'd ransack Pluto's treasury. ruled by a bastard even if he was of royal origin. But 0, my snuff-box, 'tis not he They'd have me now implore. As a result, the regency was given to Philip, the Not Pluto, but another god Duke of Orleans. This act by the haughty nobles Has locked and barred the door! They ask for verse, my snuff-box, split France into two hostile factions, the one back­ They bid me write a song, ing Philip; the other favoring Philippe-Auguste, the Before thy smooth round face I see, For which I saved so long, Duke of Maine. It was during this period that Vol­ So many a sou, my snuff-box, taire finished his schooling and entered the realm So many a silver crown .. . And still the Muse looks down her nose; of realism. Apollo wears a frown. Voltaire, or Francois-Marie Arouet as was his Farewell, my poor old snuff-box (I've used that line before!) real name, was born on Sunday, the 21st of No­ The rhymes run out. The spring runs dry. vember, 1694. Because his birth was premature, the I ne'er shall see thee more.' young Francais-Marie was not expected to live very It seems to me that this incident serves to illustrate long. For a year he hovered between life and death; Voltaire's unquenchable and indomitable spirit in its and during his entire life he was frail and thin, embryonic stage. His wit was soon to make him forever being harassed by colds and fevers. Voltaire's famous, or infamous, as the case may be. When father, a shrewd and successful businessman, was a Francais-Marie graduated from Louis-le-Grand, he member of the higher bourgeoisie. A few years before carried off more prizes than any other student. At Francois· Marie became old enough to go to school, the commencement ceremonies, the poet Rousseau his father was given a responsible government po­ kissed him on both cheeks and predicted that he was sition in the Receiver of Fees and Fines in the destined to do great things. And so Voltaire started Chamber of Accounts. This new position increased out in life in a land that was ruled by Philip, obese, his income and enabled him to send Francais-Marie dissipated and caring more for guzzling and gorging to the famous College Louis·le-Grand a few years than for the affairs of state. later. As time progressed, Voltaire became aware of Needless to say, Voltaire was a great success the glaring imperfections of his native land. The at this famous institution of learning in Paris. His fanaticism and intolerance, the prejudices and in­ keen mind and remarkable memory enabled him to equalities, and the injustice that was evident every· become an excellent student. His ability to compose where-these he began to see with penetrating verse was soon discovered by his teachers. For in­ clearness. It was not long before his prolific pen stance, one day an instructor caught the young began its incessant struggle against these despotic Francais-Marie playing with a snuff-box instead of maladies. He soon became known for his caustic paying attention to his Latin. To punish him, the essays and poems whose captious lines assailed the instructor not only confiscated the snuff-box, but objects of his disdain. Voltaire became famous as a also required the delinquent student to compose a set writer whose works manifested the absence of mock­ of original verse before he could redeem his treasure. ery and satire.

10 The Trinity Review One of the main objects of Voltaire's many dis­ limitations and capabilities; the difference occurs paraging essays and poems was the church, whose however, in that man is much more highly organized. doctrines the young poet disagreed with violently. As Voltaire sees it, man is capable of experiencing He believed that the holy books of the Bible were much more pain, desire, and emotion than any other not to be taken seriously as history, but rather as a living thing; besides, man is also intellectually sup­ series of legends. He held that these holy books were erior. He maintains that man is a rational creature artistic and even sometimes beautiful, but as absolute and can be understood by those who really try to truth, they were imbecilic. He maintained that it understand him. He argues further, however, that was ridiculous to believe that the Creator of man man becomes incomprehensible when he tries to "drowned the fathers and died for his children." define his beginning and his end, and his spirit in Most startling of all his beliefs, in my opinion, was relation to his body. "The misery and wretchedness his refusal to attach any divine significance to the of human life," said Voltaire, "no more proves in "lowly life and death of Jesus." I believe that Vol­ a philosophic sense the fall of man than the misery taire's attitude is beautifully summed up in his poem of a cab horse proves that horses were formerly "For and Against". big and fat and were never subject to the whip." Voltaire was not, however, without a sense of "Believe that the eternal wisdom of the Most High Has engraved with his hand, in the depths of your heart humor, in his writings. It is little wonder that his The Religion of Nature. "Maid of Orleans" caused such a row in Paris at the Believe that your soul, in its native simplicity, Will not be the object of God's eternal hate. time of its surreptitious publication. The satiric Believe that before his throne, at all times, in all places of "La Pucelle" hilariously mock Joan of Arc, at that The heart of the just person is precious. Believe that a modest Buddhist monk, a charitable time the most lauded and praised saint of France. dervish It was, in essence, another of his incessant attacks Will find more favor in his eyes than a pitiless Jansenist on his old enemy, the church. In part, it was as Or an ambitious Pope. follows: Ah! what indeed does it matter the name under which we pray to him? "Although in stays and petticoats arrayed, He receives every homage but by none is honored. With boldest heroes she sustained her part; Be sure he does not need our assiduous services. For Joan possessed a Rolland's fearless heart. If he can be offended, it is only by unjust deeds. For me, much better should I love by night God judges us by our virtues, not by our sacrifices." A lamb-like beauty to inspire delight. But soon you 'II find through every glowing page Reading between the lines of this poem, one f).nds That Joan of Arc could boast a lion's rage. that Voltaire was not an absolute Atheist, as he You'll tremble at those feats she dared essay, How dauntlessly she braved the bloody fray. sometimes seems to be. He believed in a Supreme But greatest of her rare exploits you 'II hear Being, but his interpretation of that Being is different Was that she kept her virginity-a year!" from the usual one in that he does not advocate any All during his life, Voltaire campaigned against particular form of religion. It is obvious from the the gross imperfections of his country. He never line, "Ah! what indeed does it matter the name un­ stopped his pen-and-ink war against tyranny in any der which we pray to him?" that Voltaire cares little size, shape, or form. The poet was forever protecting for specific forms of worship or clans that claim to the rights of the down-trodden, the weak, and the be the only true religion and that all is lost if their poor. Voltaire died in Paris on the night of May doctrines are not adhered to. Perhaps it is here, I 30, 1778. Eleven years after his death the people think, that freedom of religion first became an actual of France revolted. The seeds which the great sat­ thought instead of a hazy, obscure thing hovering irist and philosoph.er had sown bore fruit. The lib­ in the minds of the great thinkers of those days. It erty, justice, and tolerance which Voltaire had appears to me that Voltaire was one of the first advocated manifested itself in the new spirit of the persons to voice this new thought, thus bringing oppressed people of France. In 1791, in the midst of about his reputation as a radical, a heretic, and the French Revolution, the body of Voltaire was various other derogatory epithets. exhumed and carried to the Pantheon. Behind his Voltaire's attitude toward man was rather cynical coffin followed thousands of men and women who in that he regarded men merely as animals. He main­ knew that here was the man that had prepared tained that, like other animals, man has certain them to become free.

Vol. VII, No. 1 11 THE SNAKE By Douglas Green

I tious was his step, but his real purpose was to avoid HE snake lay coiled into a large fat roll m disturbing any slumbering snakes. The improbable the hot sa~d in fron.t of the cabin. The nar­ odds that any such reptiles would be found on the T row, tapenng head JUtted out from the tight­ wide, well-traveled path did not occur to him. Bur­ ly curved neck with an ugly twist. Anger flashed den Williams was deathly afraid of snakes, and as from the eyes, while the pink tip of the protruding long as he walked there every shadow concealed a tongue shone brightly in the sun. Even the mouth copperhead, every stone a timber-rattler. And at was not free from some mark of malevolence, for it thoughts such as these his large eyes grew even lar­ was hardened into a tight, malicious smile. There ger, the close-cropped hair on his knobby head was something so evil, so horrid about this thing prickled, and he urged his chubby legs into a fast­ that it would seem impossible for any living crea­ er pace. ture to emulate it. For this snake was made of clay, This was the first time Burden had ever been but so cleverly made! The painted criss-cross pat­ away from home. His mother sent him to camp, tern on the thick back was so delicately colored, quite unconscious that there was anything abnormal the small hard eyes so wicked, that it is doubtful in her son's aversion to reptiles. Indeed, she seem­ whether its living counterpart could have been more ed pleased about it. "Snakes are such nasty crea­ convincing or awe-inspiring. tures, my dear. As long as Burden doesn't like The eyes of the small boys grouped around the them, he'll stay away from them." She had picked reptile grew wide and fearful as if they expected this particular camp on the advice of a friend, but the snake to wake from its stupor and rush at them. Burden was not happy here. "Boy, I'll bet if he was alive, he'd sting us all!" Burden had been in camp scarcely a week "You're dumb! Snakes don't sting; they bite!" when the others in his cabin found out about his "He looks big enough to bite your arm off!" fear of snakes. The boys had wanted to go on a "And mean enough! Look at those eyes!" snake hunt, and at the very thought of it, Burden "He sure looks real, don't he?" had cried hysterically for half an hour. Since then, "He sure does. I bet you nobody could tell that his cabin mates had spared no opportunity to tor­ from a real snake unless they knew!" ture him. They had often awakened him in the "Well, anyway," said its owner, stepping for­ early morning by making hissing noises in his ear, ward to claim his pet, "he looks enough like a and he seldom went down to the lake because of snake to scare old Burden Williams! He'll run a the giant sea reptiles which the boys had so fear­ mile when he sees this!" To punctuate his remark, fully advertised. His counselor was admittedly baf­ he thrust the snake at one of the younger boys. fled by Burden's case, but since he was a very busy "Ss-s-s-t!" individual, who could spare little time over one "Yeow!" cried the boy. "Get away!" He shoved small boy's exaggerated fears, he trusted to some violently at the clay reptile, while the others laugh­ miracle in the remaining six weeks of the season ed and shouted. to straighten the poor little fellow out. "Fraidy-cat! Chick! Chick!" Burden emerged from the woods with a thank­ "Well, it'd scare you guys too!" ful sigh that he had met no snakes that day. He "But not half as much as it'll scare old Burden walked slowly through the hot sand toward the Wiliams! Not half as much!" they replied, and squat log cabin where he lived so unhappily. As started toward the cabin. At the head of this pro­ he extended his chubby arm to open the screen cession was the owner of the reptile, who carried door, Burden hoped that there would be no one the snake with the solemnity of one carrying a inside. He was glad to find that he was indeed revered idol. alone. The cabin seemed so dark and cool and pleas­ ant when only he was there, with none of the II others to make fun of him. Completely calm and Burden Williams walked carefully along the relaxed at last, Burden walked to the small ladder shadow-streaked woodland path. He walked as if to his upper bunk. He hauled himself wearily up trying to avoid stepping on broken glass, so cau- to his bed and sat on the edge of it, as he listened

12 The Trinity Review somewhat wistfully to the faint shouts of the camp­ III ers, swimming down at the lake. They lay in some thick green foliage, completely He stretched his arms, slowly turned to lie back hidden by several large bushes. Their eyes were and suddenly sprang away, screaming with terror. riveted upon a cabin about three hundred yards There he saw the snake, its eyes shining like hot away. coals in the darkness. In his fremied imagination "Say, the bugs are beginning to bite me! Let's he could see the slender, sharp tongue, slipping in get out of here!" one whispered fiercely. and out of the cruel mouth. He thought he saw "Yeah, who cares about what happens to old the snake uncoil, and he gazed in horror as it drew Burden Williams?" nearer and nearer, its tongue darting faster and "S-h-h-h-h!" whispered another. "He just went faster. Burden's piteous chokings became violent in. He's bound to find it soon. Wait a minute." shrieks of panic and fright. He could feel the snake The silence was suddenly broken by several piercmg sliding slimily over him, while the hissing of the shrieks from inside the cabin. Instantly the boys brute roared in his ears. The fangs gleamed before jumped up and started laughing. his eyes, and mad with fear and loathing, he threw "Boy, will ya' listen to that!" himself wildly from the bunk. His shriek of abject "Gee, we sure fixed him! We scared the living terror slit the air as his small body hurtled through daylights out of him!" space. He struck the floor with a loud crash, which "Can you imagine? A clay snake! Ha-ha-ha-ha! muffled the crack of a breaking bone. His arm had That's pretty good!" been fearfully wrenched in the fall. A dreadful Another scream echoed from the cabin. silence followed, broken only by his wretched sobs "Golly," said one, "do you think we should go of pain. Soon these too ceased, and as he lay there, over to the cabin?" moaning hideously, the light of utter insanity gleam­ "Na," said another. "If we go over now, they're ing in his eyes, he could see the horrid coils of the sure to guess that we're the ones that put it in his snake dropping slowly over the edge of the bunk, bunk. Anyway, what harm could an old clay snake ddwn, down, toward his helpless body . ... do?"

FOOLS' TOOLS In language courses, so I hear, Exceptions rule the rules. And in this modern world, I fear, The women fool the fools. For fooling fools some women get A ruling ruled by rules; But fooling fools are fools that fool; The first exception to the rule! In other words, a fool that fools Is just a fooling fool; But fooling fools is just a tool, Sometimes thought to be the rule. Now let us take a man that rules­ He's just a ruling man, And though he thinks he rules the fools, He never really can. For rules were never made for fools, Because the fools have made the rules. So let's accept fools' foolish tools And bear exceptions to their rules. -John Hasler.

Vol. VII, No. 1 13 AMERICA THE ODORLESS By William A. Dobrovir

HE late chlorophyll craze, which filled so the Century's turn tonsorial parlor and the rich much space in the advertising columns of our smells of grand-mother's kitchen, which she was T great republic's periodicals, has at last seem­ not ashamed of . . . gone are the horses from our ed to die down, but the great national phobia of streets, who added just a little bit of character to which it is a symptom is still with us. It was but the cumulative fragrance of the air. We once had another manifestation of the American antipathy a tradition of grand odors, too-but it has gone the to things that smell. way of the last pioneer. We have replaced it with It has been obvious for quite a while that one of something else to fill our American air; and some­ the prime elements in the American "culture" times one wonders if progress is really worth it. about which so much drivel has been written, pro Now Old Glory flaps in the smog of Donora, and con, is the desire for complete suppression of Pennsylvania, and of Hollywood, California. New one of Homo sapiens' five senses. The olfactory, it York basks under the emanations of the Consolida­ is true, has always been sort of a stepchild sense ted Edison Gas Company plant, which throws tons among the five means by which all human experi· of soft coal soot into the atmosphere each day, and ence is acquired, and has never, at least since man Philadelphia drinks chlorinated water, to protect became more or less civilized (if that term has any its citizens from Trenton's sewage. And America meaning; for who can say that the twentieth cen­ struts around with its nose held high. tury A.D. is any better off than the twentieth We don't know precisely when the great cam­ B.C., merely because our plumbing is better, and paign to hold America's nose began, but it seems to more people know how to read? The plumbing car­ have been contemporary with another example of ries away to the sea waste matter which was used as twentieth century progress : the Volstead Act. We fertilizer then, and do the many more non-illiterates keep our under-arms fresh with Mum, Stoppette, gain anything of value from Batman and Mi~e Arrid, 0-do-ro-no, Fresh, and a number of other Hammer?), come anywhere near being used up to sprays, creams, powders, liquids, and goos. One gets its full capacity as has that of the so-called lower a picture of a great nation going onward and up­ animals. ward, sniffing its armpits. Why? The ancient Greek At least, however, the sense which is no longer smelled, and produced a great body of literature the prime method of tracking down the sloth or and art, not to speak of the invention of democracy raccoon that will serve as luncheon, is still valued and a few minor philosophers named Socrates, Plato as a means of producing pleasure and profit in and Aristotle (who it is fairly safe to assume all many lands outside these hallowed borders. The had B.O.). The Elizabethan English stank, and Frenchman is forever sniffing about with satisfac­ gave us Shakespeare and Marlowe-the recitation tion, and the Italian loves to push aside his handle­ could go on for pages. bar moustache (according to the American picture, which has every citizen of that sunny clime re­ But that isn't all we do to kill our natural bodily sembling a cross between a gay nineties barber and odors. We "keep our breath kissing sweet" with Tony Galento) to inhale the fragrance of a pizza Chlorets and Sen-Sen. We use Colgate's tooth glop or the Grand Canal. The European does not hold to "avoid offending;" and Listerine has made us his nose while eating Limburger-he counts the conscious that even cancer is preferable to Halito­ odor as part of the pleasure of the experience. The sis (0 dread name). Why, they're even feeding the continental air is always laden with heavenly aro­ stuff to canines-and nobody ever as~ed man's best ma: the smell of a winery in Bourgogne, a roque• friend if he minded "doggy odors"-He probably fort cellar in the south of France, a brauhaus in likes it. Bavaria, or the odor of chili peppers and rancid And to top it off, we have eliminated what used hull's blood that covers most of Spain. to be the most pleasant part of coming home-fill­ Ah, but we Americans, children of the twentieth ing one's lungs with the luscious fragrances wafted century, modern, crusaders for bigger and better from the kitchen. Air-Wick takes care of all "un­ and shinier latrines, have done away with all that. pleasant cooking odors", and all we can do before No more shall the American flag wave in a deli­ dinner now is gloomily sit and sip our Martinis. cious-smelling breeze, heavy with the bay rum of Thank God they haven't produced an odorless gin.

14 The Trinity Review TIME FLIGHT

Furtive, flowing tide of time, It was done, and I was on my way. Intangible sequence in mystic rhyme, That flooded night of hell had slowly changed to Vast enigma clad in night, day. Absolute stillness void of light, Events that seemed to grip me in that pale, cold, Pressing onward out of sight; frozen dawn Ocean of motion, master of might. Had decomposed to smallness, as crawling ants up­ on a lawn Ruler of space and false on earth, Do eat their prey and then are gone. By what hand had you your birth? By what right have you to rule, All was still, except my heaving brain. Making man your trodden tool? Yet only in my swollen body was there sense of Lending out your cryptic measure, pain. Tearing down earth's built up treasure. And now there was a sudden shock that came from deep within. None can break your grasp of life, It heaved and shook my stillness, and burned my An aging knife in the bitter strife; frozen skin Yet you are lost from the very start, Forcing me to listen to the ever mounting din. You cannot touch the human heart! For once past death we'll tum to mock What was it? this closing iron hand, Your iron hand and ticking clock! That tightened ever tighter like a crushing iron band. I knew I could not shake it, nor could I even try. If only I could get away-perchance to even die. And then I felt it; I heaved a sigh. CONVERSATION At last it came; above and from the blue. As far as it is possible My life outstretched before me now flowed and I hesitate to traffic, glowed anew. With those whose conversation Across the sunny fields it went together with the Waxes autobiographic. sun, It's not that I lack interest in Beyond our plane of time, then even further did it The life a man has led, run It's just that I would rather talk Until it spanned the gap of life. Death would not be About myself instead! undone!

-John Hasler.

Vol. VII, No. 1 15 TO DOWSE OR NOT TO DOWSE

By Richard L. Hirsch

RE you a dowser? This question may pu.zz!e A report was subsequently issued, stating the con­ you if you don't know that a dowser is a sensus that, "The scientific value of the divining Awater wi.zard, or a man who searches for rod has been thoroughly established, even to locat­ water with a divining rod. But, let's get back to the ing unseen deposits of potash." original question: Are you a dowser? The only explanation offered by scientists is Try this test sometime to find out if you possess that the phenomenon of the divining rod depends the power to dowse. Cut a small forked twig from on an abnormal psychological power of the diviner, a peach, plum, apple, willow, or ha.zel tree; hold analogous to clairvoyancy. It is conceded that the the ends of the fork in each hand at arms length dowser's power lies beneath the level of conscious with palms facing upward, directly in front of perception, and the forked twig acts as an index of your midsection. some material or other disturbance within him which Now, walk across a patch of ground. If, when otherwise could not be interpreted. you reach a certain spot, the twig exerts pressure Sir W. F. Barrett, an English scientist, was satis­ in your clenched hands, and, despite your resis­ fied that "the rod twists without any intentional tance, writhes and twists so that the forked end or voluntary deception on the part of the operator." transcribes an arc until it points straight down,­ He termed the phenomenon a "motor automatism"­ CONGRATULATIONS . a reflex action excited by some stimulus upon the You, are a diviner, a dowser, a water witch,­ mind, which may be either a sub-conscious sugges­ one person in one hundred reputed to have this tion or an actual impression, obscure in nature, strange power. What is more, if you care to sink a from an external object or an external mind. well where the twig indicates, the odds are pretty Through the centuries the divining rod has been good that you'll strike water. alternately believed in and scorned. Paradoxically, Use of the divining rod to locate hidden objects, among those who laugh loudest and longest are those like underground water, is of immemorial antiquity. who possess the power,-and use it. Cicero and Tacitus mentioned it 2,000 years ago. In this scientific era, the age-old divining rod or It came into great prominence in the 15th century, forked twig is still used regularly by many profes­ when German prospectors employed it to locate sional well-drillers. Although most of them knew minerals in the Hart.z Mountains. nothing of the strange mystery surorunding the An extensive series of tests with three noted di­ twig, they usualy comment on its efficacy by point­ viners participating, was made in France in 1913. ing out that all those wells and all that water can't The results showed a complete failure to locate be wrong. water. These findings, however, were neutralized If this slight history intrigues you, if it fills you in September of the same year, at a convention in with the urge to dowse and divine, get your forked Halle, Germany, of a society for the study of the twig and be on your way. You may be that one divining rod. The 345 members of the society person in one hundred who has been endowed with claimed success in 70 to 80 per cent of the trials. the power of the water witch.

NIGHT MOTOR GUARD

Frost settles white on the black motor park "No wind tonight, thank God, at least," As the pale moon pierces the outer dark. He thinks aloud : but from the east The sentry shivers and stamps his feet Comes like the snow, the breath of fear And thinks with regret of a well-lit street, Which needs no winter's wind to waft it here. Of his house and his door and his wife inside -Then he turns to the Swabian countryside. -Jac~ Boyer.

16 The Trinity Review MYSTICISM called journey itself is a psychological and spiritual experience; as well as the purging and preparation (Continued from page 6) of the self, and its abrupt entrance into union with ing into actual communion and union with God the Real. Sometimes it seems to the person that Almighty. This type of prayer is as normal and this performance is a retreat inwards. It is only a sane as the lower type, although it is not as fre­ method of attaining conscious union with a God quent. Men who can enjoy the mystic element in who is immanent and transcendent at the same time prayer do not worry about the superficial question in relation to the Soul which shares and enjoys His of whether their prayers are answered or not; for life. to them prayer is an answer in itself, and the joy The mystic feels that he must find God. Some­ experienced by the person who truly prays is really times his temperament causes him to place most a type of mystic pleasure. stress on the length of the search, sometimes the The soul must go through a preparation before abrupt rapture which ends it makes him forget it can enter a life of mystical contemplation; and that preliminary experience in which the soul is "not this preparation is nothing more than exercise in outward bound, but rather on a journey to its cen­ the lower, or more commonplace methods of devo­ ter." A good mystical philosophy will make allow­ tion and piety. ance for the personality of the being experiencing After the mystic has cleared his mind of all and interpreting a mystic revelation. It will mark thoughts of the external and material world, and the many different routes by which divers and un­ his mind is relaxed and prepared for the revelation like temperaments claim to have found their way of the Almighty many persons believe that he must to the same end. acquire certain characteristic mystical qualities: at­ The great thrill of a mystical experience, unendur­ traction, devotion, and elevation. Attraction is con­ able as it may be, has the after affect upon those sciousness of the mutual desire existing between who partake of it of steadying their nerves and man's spirit and the Divine Spirit: of the link of bringing them serenity and peace. After all the love which binds up Reality and draws all things striving and all the tumult of joy there follows for to their home in God. This is one of the universal them that contentment in the depths which only laws on which mysticism is based. The second, devo­ comes of complete satisfaction of every need, every tion, embraces the whole purpose of contemplative desire, and every hope. They pass from a state of life. It is the next degree of spiritual consciousness mere emotion into a state of profound peace-that after the blind yielding to the attraction of the satisfying peace of the soul which comes of finding Real, and the setting in order of man's relations to their own souls. A serenity which nothing on earth his Creator. Elevation, the third characteristic is the could disturb was theirs. exalted form of consciousness which is peculiar to the contemplative, and which allows the mystic the A man must have something to grasp in order to experience of the Divine. believe. The mystic has the certitude that, however All religion is an approach to God, and mysti­ evil men may appear to the eye, however much dis­ cism represents not a short cut, but an advanced tress and destruction there may be in the world stage of the journey-the more advanced the stage, about them, men and things are essentially and the more frequent or constant is the mystical condi­ basically good- at the foundation of things is good­ tion. ness. There is a very important school of mystics that Religious contemplation produces a feeling of joy believes that mysticism is predominantly transceden­ and exaltation that passes all understanding, that tal. This group believes there is a geography of mys­ cannot be put into words. The ·mystic suffers from ticism, and they speak of the voyage of the Great no inner conflict, and hence there is a tremendous Abyss. These mystics assume that since they must outflow of vital energy. In his case the blending or transcend their natural life in order to attain the organization of impulses removes doubt and fear. mystical "vision" of God that God is essentially There are no opposed or conflicting emotions and transcendent of the natural world. Hence the geog­ ideas, but balance and proportion are established, raphy of this individual's quest in a land where and inhibitions are overcome in an impressive calm, there is no time and space, no inner and no outer, broken only, if at all, by highly controlled move­ up or down, is conditioned by each individual's tem­ ments directed toward a well-defined goal. perament, by his powers of observation, by the fig­ It is very difficult for a person to believe in in­ ure of speech which comes most readily to his mind, ner spiritual experience and the observance of re­ and above all by his theological education. The so- ligious rites and ceremonies at the same time. Rites

Vol. VII, No. 1 17 and ceremonies not only appear superfluous, but value also to others, as he was and is no more than also as hindrances to the vivid enjoyment and ap­ an ordinary man. Some mystics might add that it preciation of the "inner light." The mystic and the was out of a great battle, or of extreme poverty person who upholds personal religion for this rea­ they gained their experience. son is always looked upon with suspicion by the A young man who was sentenced to prison in priesthood and even by most of the laity. England, because he refused to be inducted into "In his search for God, the mystic goes about it in military service did not find his life in prison hard his own way. If need be he will brush aside formu­ or degrading. His testimony shows that he had a lae, rites, and even the priest who would serve him mystic revelation and as a result of that he was as mediator. And he issues from the divine union fired and inspired with a new love of life and lib­ with a superior sense of divine knowledge, he holds erty. After this mystical experience the War and that ultimate truth has been revealed to him. Persons the prison were both insignificant before his eyes. of this sort, harboring such convictions, may obvious­ His testimony is as follows: ly be dangerous to the stability of any institution A Cell, Police Station, in London that has come to regard its truths as the only truths, September 3, 1941 and its way of worship as the only way. And so it "I have just had a wonderful experience. I can­ comes to pass that the more highly institutionalized not adequately describe it. I have gradually been are the spiritually minded religions, and less toler­ becming aware of a Presence in the cell, and sud­ ant they are of mystical piety when it rises beyond denly the whole room was charged with infinite the ordinary." Power. It was as if in the midst of a vast congrega­ However, most mystics attempt to follow their in­ tion, yet ultimately intimate. The place was illumi­ clinations as far as they are not incompatible with nated and yet not physically so. The emotion of the doctrines of the ecclesiastical authorities. Mysti­ my happiness was so powerful that it struck me cal philosophy has availed itself gladly of the doc­ through and through, and I had a very storm of trine of the Trinity in expressing its vision of the weeping in my weakness. Yet through it I have nature of the Almighty which is found by those gained a profound strength. How shall I describe who achieve union with God. It is by the Christian what is beyond words? This cell is now a holy dogma of the Incarnation that the mystics have place to me, and I am overcome with an impulse been able to describe and explain the nature of in­ to glorify and worship. I have no difficulties as ward and personal mystical experience. (The doc­ yet, but I now know how the saints were upheld trine of Incarnation is the unity between divinity whatever their conditions. . . " and humanity in Christ.) We are often told, that in the critical periods Today as our world seems to be collapsing, and of history it is the national soul which counts, all the earth is embroiled in a great "cold war" you that "where there is no vision, the people perish." may ask: of what practical use or present day val­ No nation is truly defeated which retains its spiri­ ue is mysticism? What can the mystic do for the tual self-possession. No nation is truly victorious thousands fighting and dying in Kangyang or which does emerge with soul unstained. If this is Hwach'on, for those other thousands who have so, it is a part of true patriotism to keep the spiri­ fruitlessly sought for employment? Of what would tual life active and vigorous, both in the individual this highly emotional mysticism be to them? Or to citizen and in the social group. The spiritual life the poet with great things to say, striving to be is not a special career, involving abstraction from heard above the bustle and noise of the street? Or the world of things. It is a part of every man's the statesman, or the soldier, or the financier? life; and until he has realized it he is not a com­ What can it do for the practical minded Ameri­ plete human being; he has not entered into pos­ cans and Europeans who are so doubtful about the session of all his powers. It is therefore the purpose dreamy and the emotional, and who are always of practical mysticism to increase not to diminish waiting to be doing things? To all these questions man's satisfaction and happiness in life. It will the mystic might reply that what he has to tell teach him to see the world in a truer proportion, should be of obvious value in practical life, for it discerning eternal beauty beyond and beneath ap­ was out of the midst of life that he obtained his ex­ parent ruthlessness. It will educate him in charity perience. He might also answer that it was no weird free from all taint of sentimentalism; it will confer dream or delusion, but a normal and healthy exper­ on them an unconquerable hope; and assure them ience which has greatly enhanced his love and en­ that still, even in the hour of greatest desolation joyment of life, and being of value to himself is of that there is an all powerful and all merciful God.

18 The Trinity Review