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themselves. And what modern pessimist could outdo Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic (121 B.C.), who said: 'Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name or not even a name; but a name is only sound and echo. And all the things which are much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling, like little dogs biting one another.' No, atheism is not exclusively modern.

Modern atheism, then, can hardly be called the temper of a mature humanity discarding the myths of its infancy. Science tells us that if we liken the period of time during which life has evolved on this planet to twenty-four hours, man has been on the scene about twenty minutes. Are we not a bit conceited, then, to consider ourselves already grown up, or even adolescent? It seems likely that this recurring atheism is, in relation to the entire life span of humanity, more like a mood than a stage of growth.

Mr. Krutch's difficulty seems to lie in an inability to find in the world of nature any equivalent to the world of consciousness. But the world of nature is the world of consciousness! All any man can possibly know is his own consciousness, and if that were changed, then were the universe changed also. Suppose, as some philosopher has suggested, that our present sense organs enabling us to respond to light and sound were replaced by sense organs responding to magnetism and electricity. Behold, a new universe! A new universe, that is, for us. "Things as they are' (whatever they may be; Mr. Krutch evidently feels himself to be on familiar terms with them, but no philosopher does) would presumably be unchanged.

Mr. Krutch distinguishes between facts and myths by labeling as facts those things which appear to come to him from outside, and as myths those which seem to come to him from within. Thought and emotion, he says, morality, religion, and art, exist only within ourselves. So, also, does everything else. In the last analysis a tree is no more external than a hope. What we call a tree is a mental image made up of sensations of sight, sound, and touch. Whether the tree is an actual entity, a thing-in-itself, no man can say. As any student knows, the world we see is a tiny image on the retina of the eye, an internal image; but we have learned to project that image and perceive it as outside ourselves. Perhaps man will learn some day to project his thoughts as well as his sense perceptions, so that they too will seem external. Then the materialist will be forced to grant that they have 'reality,' that they are 'things.' (This, by the way, would almost seem to be accomplished by present-day experiments in telepathy and thought photography.)

Mr. Krutch urges us to curb our 'transcendental cravings' and learn to be content with 'things as they are.' Emerson's term, 'things as we are,' is far more accurate; and if we are not content with them, then let us change ourselves. Mr. Krutch complains that the universe is alien to himself. Does he know what he means by 'himself'? Pythagoras called the universe the Great Man, and man the Little Universe. It may well be that understanding of the universe lies through self-knowledge. It is true that science has searched the outer universe for God and Heaven in vain, but it has not searched the universe within, and that is where the great religious teachers have told us we would find them: not up among the suns or down among the protons; not right or left, or behind or before - but within. This idea that consciousness expands in a direction unknown to physical senses is presented in a way to appeal to the scientific mind in the theory of the fourth dimension, or 'higher space,' but it is far more beautifully presented by the great religions of the world. 'Look inward, thou art Buddha,' say the followers of the Enlightened One. 'I am the Self seated in the hearts of all beings,' said Shri Krishna. "The kingdom of God is within you,' said Christ. In other words, Heaven like everything else is a state of consciousness. WILMA HOLT

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Wallace Thompson's plea (in the March Atlantic) for a Mexican policy based on invincible good will strikes a responsive note in the heart of every friend of peace and of our Mexican neighbors. In the early border days and in Western melodramas of the stage and screen, the Mexican was a greaser, a bandit, and a villain. But to-day the vast majority of Americans within two hundred miles of the border have a kindly feeling for the peon laborer and a genuine admiration for the more cultivated Mexican who is taking an active part in his nation's renaissance.

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College has maintained a conference of Friends of the Mexicans, and last summer entertained as guests of the college and of the Mexican Government, which coöperated, a group of principals and teachers from the northern provinces of Mexico. In addition the exchange of students with the National University of Mexico was initiated.

This adventure in friendship proved so valuable for both nationalities, not only in the general development of good will, but in very specific training in conversation and understanding of things across the border, that the opportunities are being extended this coming summer. On the campus Pomona College will entertain thirty or forty picked Mexican educators and provide special studies for them in English and for our American students in Spanish; while the exchange students will form the nucleus of a Pomona College travel party to the National University of Mexico.


"The identity of opposites.'


DEAR ATLANTIC, I am whole-heartedly in accord with the Atlantic correspondent of several years ago who eagerly looked forward to the hereafter as affording the leisure to spend æons in rereading back numbers of that delectable magazine, the Atlantic. For even its controversies are in harmony - extreme views meet amicably, and teach the truth of the 'identity of opposites.' Mr. Kenneth J. Saunders's essay, 'The Christ and the Buddha,' in the February number, is an acceptance of L. Adams Beck's 'The Challenge,' of May 1926. These two are examples of the fine art of conflict.

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But the dust of battle between these two antagonists seems more like incense than otherwise. With twenty years or more of interest in the art and philosophy of the three most spiritually minded nations, India, China, and Japan, the writer is of the opinion that the teachings of Christ and Buddha are more complementary than Mr. Saunders's instances of difference indicate. He states, for example, that 'so far as transmigration goes, it is never mentioned but once in the Fourth Gospel and here we see Jesus rejecting it.' Now, how about Jesus' doctrine of 'rebirth,' of 'being born again,' and the beautiful anecdote of the sore-troubled Nicodemus going to Jesus stealthily at night and the advice of the Master? For what is being

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You're positively dangerous!

It was just seven days after the dear specialists had removed that portion of my anatomy which they felt was responsible for certain things most unpleasant to remember. My husband came in for a brief visit after lunch. He brought a belated February Atlantic. "Thought you might be able to read a bit.' I tucked it under my pillow.

Just after lunch each day I rest. Three hours of it! And with the 'No visitors, please' on the door this sinking into nothingness works wonders. But to-day Ah! Nurse would be gone. If I needed anything, would I please turn on the light? Need anything? To-day? I could scarcely wait until she was gone, and I am fond of her, too. I know now how Boy feels when he sneaks things to bed with him. I was trembling gloriously when I pulled that Atlantic from under my pillow. I was in the midst of—oh, well, what difference does it make? They entered so suddenly after knocking that I could n't possibly hide it. And I thought that doctors always did their calling in the mornings! So I was caught red-handed, or orange-handed, or what color

are you anyway, Atlantic?

Then, my doctor speaking:

'By all means you must not read the Atlantic Monthly. I have asked that you remain quiet for some time and you cannot do so if you read that magazine. If you don't agree with what it says, it excites you to argumentation. If you do agree, you become too enthusiastic, and either process is very exhausting to you now. The Atlantic is positively not a magazine for an invalid. It makes you think and feel too much.' So there you are! Or, at least, here am I and there on my dresser lie two Atlantics! For my husband brought me the March issue that night!

Convalescingly yours,

N. O'H.


[THIS is an historic incident, historic for the country and for the Church. Now for the first time in the republic's history, under a constitution which forever forbids religious tests as qualifications for office, a candidate for the Presidency has been subjected to public questioning as to how he can give undivided allegiance to his country when his church restricts the freedom of his choice; and the candidate has answered-answered not deviously and with indirection, but straightforwardly, bravely, with the clear ring of candor.

It is an issue of infinite possibilities. Is the principle of religious tolerance, universal and complete, which every schoolboy has repeated for one hundred and fifty years, mere platitudinous vaporing? Can men worshiping God in their differing ways believe without reservation of conscience in a common political ideal? Is the United States of America based on a delusion? Can the vast experiment of the Republic, Protestant and Catholic, churched and unchurched, succeed?

And this is the converse of the question: Will the churches suffer their members to be really free? "Thou shalt have none other gods but me,' thundered the Jewish Jehovah from Sinai, and ever since the gods of the churches have demanded that their control be not abridged nor diminished. But as the creeds clash about us, we remember that not in political programmes only may religion have its place separate and apart from politics, from public discussion, and from the laws of society. Quite elsewhere is it written, 'Render therefore unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that are God's.'

The discussion has served its purpose. Not in this campaign will whispering and innuendoes, shruggings and hunchings, usurp the place of reason and of argument. The thoughts rising almost unbidden in the minds of the least bigoted of us when we watch a Roman Catholic aspire to the Presidency of the United States have become matters of high, serious, and eloquent debate. -THE EDITOR]

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In your open letter to me in the April Atlantic Monthly you 'impute' to American Catholics views which, if held by them, would leave open to question the loyalty and devotion to this country and its Constitution of more than twenty million American Catholic citizens. I am grateful to you for defining this issue in the open and for your courteous expression of the satisfaction it will bring to my fellow citizens for me to give ‘a disclaimer of the convictions' thus imputed. Without mental reservation I can and do make that disclaimer. These convictions are held neither by me nor by any other American Catholic, as far as I know. Before answering the argument of your letter, however, I must dispose of one of its implications. You put your questions to me in connection with my candidacy for the office of President of the United States. My attitude with respect to that candidacy was fully stated in my last inaugural address as Governor when, on January 1, 1927, I said:

'I have no idea what the future has in store for me. Everyone else in the United States has some notion about it except myself. No man could stand before this intelligent gathering and say that he was not receptive to the greatest position the world has to give anyone. But I can say this, that I will do nothing to achieve it except to give to the people of the State the kind and character of service that will make me deserve it.'

I should be a poor American and a poor Catholic alike if I injected religious discussion into a political campaign. Therefore I would ask you to accept this answer from me not as a candidate for any public office but as an American citizen, honored with high elective office, meeting a challenge to his patriotism and his intellectual integrity. Moreover, I call your attention to the fact that I am only a layman. The Atlantic Monthly describes you as 'an experienced attorney' who 'has made himself an authority upon canon law.' I am neither a lawyer nor a theologian. What knowledge of law I have was

gained in the course of my long experience in the Legislature and as Chief Executive of New York State. I had no such opportunity to study theology.

My first thought was to answer you with just the faith that is in me. But I knew instinctively that your conclusions could be logically proved false. It seemed right, therefore, to take counsel with someone schooled in the Church law, from whom I learned whatever is hereafter set forth in definite answer to the theological questions you raise. I selected one whose patriotism neither you nor any other man will question. He wears upon his breast the Distinguished Service Cross of our country, its Distinguished Service Medal, the Ribbon of the Legion of Honor, and the Croix de Guerre with Palm of the French Republic. He was the Catholic Chaplain of the almost wholly Catholic 165th Regiment in the World War Father Francis P. Duffy, now in the military service of my own State.

Taking your letter as a whole and reducing it to commonplace English, you imply that there is conflict between religious loyalty to the Catholic faith and patriotic loyalty to the United States. Everything that has actually happened to me during my long public career leads me to know that no such thing as that is true. I have taken an oath of office in this State nineteen times. Each time I swore to defend and maintain the Constitution of the United States. All of this represents a period of public service in elective office almost continuous since 1903. I have never known any conflict between my official duties and my religious belief. No such conflict could exist. Certainly the people of this State recognize no such conflict. They have testified to my devotion to public duty by electing me to the highest office within their

gift four times. You yourself do me the honor, in addressing me, to refer to 'your fidelity to the morality you have advocated in public and private life and to the religion you have revered; your great record of public trusts successfully and honestly discharged.' During the years I have discharged these trusts I have been a communicant of the Roman Catholic Church. If there were conflict, I, of all men, could not have escaped it, because I have not been a silent man, but a battler for social and political reform. These battles would in their very nature disclose this conflict if there were any.

I regard public education as one of the foremost functions of government and I have supported to the last degree the State Department of Education in every effort to promote our publicschool system. The largest single item of increased appropriations under my administration appears in the educational group for the support of common schools. Since 1919, when I first became Governor, this item has grown from $9,000,000 to $82,500,000. My aim and I may say I have succeeded in achieving it has been legislation for child welfare, the protection of working men, women, and children, the modernization of the State's institutions for the care of helpless or unfortunate wards, the preservation of freedom of speech and opinion against the attack of war-time hysteria, and the complete reorganization of the structure of the government of the State.

I did not struggle for these things for any single element, but in the interest of all of the eleven million people who make up the State. In all of this work I had the support of churches of all denominations. I probably know as many ecclesiastics of my Church as any other layman. During my long and active public career I never received

from any of them anything except cooperation and encouragement in the full and complete discharge of my duty to the State. Moreover, I am unable to understand how anything that I was taught to believe as a Catholic could possibly be in conflict with what is good citizenship. The essence of my faith is built upon the Commandments of God. The law of the land is built upon the Commandments of God. There can be no conflict between them.

Instead of quarreling among ourselves over dogmatic principles, it would be infinitely better if we joined together in inculcating obedience to these Commandments in the hearts and minds of the youth of the country as the surest and best road to happiness on this earth and to peace in the world to come. This is the common ideal of all religions. What we need is more religion for our young people, not less; and the way to get more religion is to stop the bickering among our sects which can only have for its effect the creation of doubt in the minds of our youth as to whether or not it is necessary to pay attention to religion at all.

Then I know your imputations are false when I recall the long list of other public servants of my faith who have loyally served the State. You as a lawyer will probably agree that the office of Chief Justice of the United States is second not even to that of the President in its influence on the national development and policy. That court by its interpretation of the Federal Constitution is a check not only upon the President himself but upon Congress as well. During one fourth of its history it has been presided over by two Catholics, Roger Brooke Taney and Edward Douglass White. No one has suggested that the official conduct of either of these men was affected by any unwarranted religious influence or that religion played with them any part

other than it should play in the life of every God-fearing man.

And I know your imputations are false when I recall the tens of thousands of young Catholics who have risked and sacrificed their lives in defense of our country. These fundamentals of life could not be true unless your imputations were false.

But, wishing to meet you on your own ground, I address myself to your definite questions, against which I have thus far made only general statements. I must first call attention to the fact that you often divorce sentences from their context in such a way as to give them something other than their real meaning. I will specify. You refer to the Apostolic Letter of Pope Leo XIII as 'declaring to the world that the orders of the Church of England were void, her priests not priests,' and so forth. You say that this was the 'strange fruit' of the toleration of England to the Catholics. You imply that the Pope gratuitously issued an affront to the Anglican Church. In fact, this Apostolic Letter was an answer to a request made at the instance of priests of the Anglican Church for recognition by the Roman Catholic Church of the validity of their priestly orders. The request was based on the ground that they had been ordained in succession from the Roman Catholic priests who became the first priests of the Anglican Church. The Apostolic Letter was a mere adverse answer to this request, ruling that Anglican priests were not Roman Catholic priests, and was in no sense the gratuitous insult which you suggest it to be. It was not directed against England or citizens of that Empire.

Again, you quote from the Catholic Encyclopedia that my Church 'regards dogmatic intolerance, not alone as her incontestable right, but as her sacred duty.' And you say that these words

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