^ illaroonVol. 34. No. IThe PresidentSays——By ROBERT M. HUTCHINS—POPULARITYBarden is at it again . . . tryingto make me the most popular girl jon the Midway. I can remember | Phiwhen I first |laughed in his!face when he sug-!gested that Iwrite a column inhis sheet. I amstill laughing.That hrst col¬umn was the firstof a flong sikriesof very enjoyableantics. Introducedat t h e Football 26 FRATERNITIESCOMPETE IN I - FSING TOMORROWCams Open RadioBroadcast OverNBCPresidentHutchins Over a thousand alumni will re¬turn to the campus for the 24thannual Interfraternity sing, whichwill be held in Hutchinson court to¬morrow night. The sing will climaxa two-day program of activities inthe annual alumni reunion.* fraternities will broadcastRunniipt hv that! NBC coast-to-coast networkman? Swanson, l i beginning at 9:30. Phi Gamma Del-talked in the kind 1 '^bich won second prize for qual-of language that even football play¬ers could appreciate about the merg- ity last year will broadcast first,and will be followed by Zeta Betaers COUia appreciaie UUUUi me mens- _ t> ■ tt -i u- uer which none of them ever did ap- ^ Tau, Ps, Upsilon, which won thepreciate. In a more serious tone I I quantity last year, andcontinued the subject at the Univer- Alpha Tau Omega. AlphA Delta Phisity chapel. My English was so good i ^bich won first prize last year andthere that Comment couldn’t under-, Kappa Sigma wiU conclude thestand me. I had a delightful time at broadcast. Kappa Si^a and Alphathe senior class meeting dwelling, Jau Omega are celebrating theirupon the imperceptible, though not I 30th anniversaries on the Univer-impalpable, merits of Mr. Rapp, the campus,virtues of the University, and the “**'".^.** * . .value of scholarships. To the resi-, Twenty fraternities will sing be-dents of Judson and Burton courts ' the broadcast. Phi Pi Phi wi 1I told several things that even TheDaily Maroon could not repeat. At ‘owed by Tau Delta Phi Pi Lambdaa dinner of those inexcusable so- ; Pb*- ^bi Psi. Phi Sigma Deltacieties of Iron Mask and Owl and ; ^dl sing at 8:10 with Alpha SigmaSerpent, I did my best with some Sigma Nu, Phi Delta Theta, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. FRIDAY. JUNE 8, 1934WILLIAM WATSONNAMEO EOITOR OFCAP Al^ GOWNFord, Watson, StrouseAppointed to Boardof Control Price Three CenttOptimists ReceiveBeatmg in OgbumSurvey on Grades Hold Senior ClassFestivities Todayat Olympia Fieldsvery inferior questions about thefate of those questionable organiza¬tions, the fraternities. Finally, atthe Maroon banquet I dwelt at some Lambda Chi Alpha, and Sigma Al¬pha Epsilon.The fraternities which will singbetween 8:30 and 9 include Beta Nobody may like a pessimist, buthe’s smarter than his optimist broth¬er, according to William FieldingOgburn, professor of Sociology whohas just completed a study of thesubject.Professor Ogburn bases his con¬clusions on a survey made at ReedCollege with the freshman class. Thestudents were asked to predict themarks they thought they would getin the courses.When these were computed forfour different courses, it was foundthat many guessed lower gradesthan they actually received in allfour. Others predicted highergrades in all their work, while manypredicted high in two and low in theother two.Those that underguessed werecalled pessimists and those thatoverguessed were called optimists.The scores of the optimists and pes¬simists on an intelligence test con¬structed by Louis Thurstone, werethen compared.It was found that, while the aver¬age intelligence score for pessimistswas 229, the score for the optimistswas much lower, 189. Thus, Pro¬fessor Ogburn believes, students whounder-estimate their grades aremore gifted in intelligence as meas¬ured by this test, than are the stu¬dents who over-estimate theirgrades.me intiiuuii uaiiquei. * uwcii ai. ovriiit ir i-i -1 r»t.-length upon edneation aa it ought Theta P. Delta Kappa Eps^to be at any university.MISERYBut this was not enough. I reg¬ularly had to face the daily drudg¬ery of having my secretary readThe Daily Maroon, the weekly task Beta Delta, Tau Kappa Epsilon, Del¬ta Tau Delta, Sigma Chi, Phi Kap¬pa Sigma, Delta Upsilon, Kappa Nu,and Phi Kappa Psi.Horner, McAdoo SingHenry Horner, the governor oiIllinois, will sing with the members SOCIAL COMMITTEEPICKS 5 TO MANAGEORIENTATION ACTIVITY...» - ^ lllinUISf will Bill* WIVII meof absenting myself from two un-, fraternity, Zeta Beta Tau,dergraduate classes, and the occa-; gnj United States Senator Williamsional chore of correcting the gram- i Qibbs McAdoo, former governor ofmar of the columns that Barden California, will be marching withsigned my name to in the Maroon. Kappa Sigma. Dwight Green, UnitedTRADITION 1 States district attorney, will alsoIf this keeps up I shall have to i sing with the latter fraternity. Rob-surrender the presidency of the Uni-1 ert Maynard Hutchins, president ofversity and devote myself to the the University, will be with Alphalarger things in life like understand- ; Delta Phi, and Harold Swift, presi-ing undergraduates, and I blame dent of the board of trustees, willBarden for starting the whole thing, march with Delta Kappa Epsilon.The one intelligent thing he ha.s ; Following the singing, the newlydone this year was to start the tra-1 appointed aides and marshals willdition of the Maroon Banquet. And be officially inducted into office byI had to suggest that to him. Robert V. Merrill, head marshal ofMAROON—1933-1934 j (Continued on page 4)Nevertheless I will say one thing ’for Barden. Intelligent or not, he ! p]|||D IVlcctS PriftYhas made the campus hum. In mytime I have been condemned to readcountless student publications. Nev¬er have I seen one that seemed tome so entertaining, so vivacious,and so vituperative as this year’s.Maroon. Barden and his Board ofControl deserve the thanks and con¬gratulations of the administration,the faculty, and the students forstirring up really warm controversyabout some really important issues.The paper has set a new standardfor leadership of the student press.SENIORS Authors Today at 3Tom Flinn, abbott of Blackfriars,will meet all those who contemplatewriting books for next year’s showin the Blackfriars office in Mitchelltower at 3 tod^. Present planscall for an earlier selection ofbooks than usual.The Board of Superiors hopesthat by choosing the book at anbeginning workearlier date andsooner a bigger and better Black-As for the rest of you, at least friar show will startle the campus(Continued on page 2) | next spring. j John Rice, chairman of the Stu-i dent Social committee, yesterday an-j nounced the appointment of five1 students to assist in the manage¬ment of the Freshman Week orien¬tation program next fall. These ap-pointment.s follow the announcementby the Dean of Students Office onWednesday that freshmen orienta¬tion this year will be directed bythe Student Social committee insteadof by a special Freshman Orienta¬tion committee as in the past.Charles Greenleaf, Delta TauDelta, new prior of Blackfriars, andmember of Owl and Serpent, willhave charge of the program of toursfor the week. Mixers and other so¬cial functions will be directed byDexter Fairbanks, Alpha Delta Phi,and "C” man in track.Sidney Hyman, Zeta Beta Tau,member of Blackfriars, and Phoenixcdlumnist will make arrangementsfor banquets and meals. Upperclass counsellors for the freshmenwill be under the direction of FrankDavis and Bob Keats. Davis is aPhi Psi and member of the DailyMaroon. Keats is a Kappa Nu.It is hoped that the new arrange¬ment will promote a thorough rela¬tionship between freshmen and up¬per class men. William D. Watson was appoint¬ed editor of the Cap and Gown loithe 1934-35 season, Everett Parker,retiring editor, announfeed yester¬day. Other members of the boardof control for next year includeJohn Ford, managing editor; BettyJane Matson, woman’s editor; andCarl Strouse, Robert Keats, andDorothy Norton, associate editors.No major appointments will bemade to the business staff at thepresent time, according to Walde-mar A. Solf, business manager.Those who are at the present timeeligible for the positions of businessand circulation managers are JohnCurry, James McDevitt, and TomBarton. Temporarily Solf will con¬tinue as business manager of theOfficial Undergraduate Publications(Cap and Gown, Student Directory,and Handbook). B'oth Parker ancjSolf will act in an advisory capac¬ity to the 1935 Cap and Gown staff.Photography Managership OpenEditorial assistants for next yearare: Frances Duncan, Jean O’Hagan,James Stevens, John Shallenberger.Elma Stauffer, Helen Forsberg, LilyMary David, and Arthur Koven.The following men have been ap¬pointed as business associates: Nor¬man Taub, James Melville, JohnRobertson. The important positionof photography manager has beenleft open and will be filled by Wat¬son in the fall. In the meantimephotography will be under the direc¬tion of Edward Myers and DonaldHamilton.Watson, a Deke, was managingeditor of the Cap and Gown thisyear. He is hospitaller of Black¬friars, a member of Owl and Ser¬pent, and a member of the tracksquad. Ford, a Phi Pi, is a m'^m-ber of Blackfriars. Today is the day selected for thefirst annual Senior Class Day. Thescene of festivities is the beautifulOlympia Fields country club inFlossmoor, Illinois, and the timefrom 12:30 until midnight.A 12-hour program has been ar¬ranged for members of the class at¬tending. The plan includes luncheonat the club cafeteria at 12:30, anafternoon devoted to golf, tennis,bowling, horseback riding andbridge, a baseball game at 4:30 be¬tween selected teams of men andwomen, and an hour of relaxationbefore dinner.The full-course dinner in theluxurious main dining hall of theclub will be followed by a dancewhich will last until midnight. Theorchestra for the affair will be thatof Harry Berkover.Tickets for the day, priced at $2,may still be obtained. Sophomoresand juniors may attend, it was an¬nounced yesterday by Wayne Rapp,president of the Senior class.“According to present plans,” hesaid yesterday, “the Senior ClassDay should be a howling success.Every effort is being made to makeevery minute of the day enjoyable.The dance in the evening will climax12 hours of fun for eevryone.All those who have not returnedtickets must do so before noon to¬day. ELECT HOOSON,O'DONNELL NEWMARO^ HEADSHoerr, Bergman, Rich,Kutner Complete1935 BoardSCHOOL OF BUSINESSANNOUNCES AWAROOF 16 SCHOLARSHIPSMcDevitt and AllenElected to DirectNew Chapel CouncilJames McDevitt was elected chair¬man of the 1934-35 Chapel Councilat the first meeting of the councilyesterday. The new vice-chairmanis Jack Allen, and the secretary isMary Elizabeth McKay.The new chairman has been activein the council for the last two years,and is also a member of the Univer¬sity Choir and the Blackfriars trio.At the convocation services Sun¬day morning, Dean Charles W. Gil-key will give the main sermon onthe subject of “New Plans for Old,”which has to do with the place ofplanning in the conduct of life. Atthe same service President RobertMaynard Hutchins will read theScripture lesson. Vice-PresidentFrederic Woodward will assist atthe services at 10. The awarding of sixteen honorscholarships to junior college stu¬dents was announced yesterday bythe School of Business.Awards were made to JosephBlumberg, of LaSalle-Peru Town¬ship Junior College, LaSalle, Illi¬nois; Robert Bobisud, of MortonJunior College, Cicero, Illinois; Ed¬ward Scheck, of Morton Junior Col¬lege, Cicero, Illinois; Russell Knapp,of Long Beach Junior College, LongB^ach, California; Margaret Mykle-bust, of Eagle Grove Junior Col¬lege, Eagle Grove, Iowa; James E.Cornish, of Arkansas City JuniorCollege, Arkansas City, Kansas;Willard Hill, of Arkansas CityJunior College, Arkansas City, Kan¬sas; Keith Jackson, of El DoradoJunior College, El Dorado, Kansas.Awards were also made to RobertBristol, of Flint Junior College,Flint, Michigan; Donald Mattson,of Duluth Junior College, Duluth,Minnesota; Lester J. Newquist, ofDuluth Junior College, Duluth,Minnesota; Lowell Schultz, of Du¬luth Junior College, Duluth, Minne¬sota; Conrad A. Lund, of HibbingJunior College, Hibbing, Minnesota;George V. Myers, of Kansas CityJunior College, Kansas City, Mis¬souri; John Scherm, of Kansas CityJunior College, Kansas City, Mis¬souri; Earl Worman, of Weber Col¬lege, Ogden, Utah. Howard Hudson and WilliamO’Donnell were chosen yesterday aseditor and business manager respec¬tively of The Daily Maroon for1934-35, THe. remaining membersof the Board of Control are CharlesHoerr, managing editor; WilliamBergfman, advertising manager;Howard Rich, associate editor; andDavid Kutner, associate editor. Allpositions were filled by unanimousvotes of the retiring Board of Con¬trol.Editorial assistants are: RuthGreenebaum, Henry Kelley, Ray¬mond Lahr, Janet Lewy, Curtis Mel-hick, Ralph Nicholson, J^eanne Stolte,and W’illiam Watson.In the business department thefollowing were named as businessassistants: Rod Chapin, ZalmonGoldsmith, Robert McQuilkin, andEverett Storey.ReportersSophomore reporters are: JohnBallenger, James Bernard, Mar¬jorie Berger, Shirley Baker,Wells Burnette, Jack Brack¬en, Russell Cox, Sidney Cutright,Mary Clapp, Edward Felsenthal,Zenia Goldberg, Roberta Guttman,Phyllis Greene, Ruby Howell, Dor¬othy Hofman, Louise Hoyt, Kath¬erine Johnson, Julian Kiser, PaulLynch, Godfrey Lehman.Lucy Liveright, John Morris, JuneRappaport, Emy Stern, ClaraSprague, James Snyder, EdwardStern, George Schustek, Elinor Tay¬lor, Melvin Ury, Campbell Wilson,and Mary Walter.Business AssistantsSophomore business assistantsare: Donald Elliot, Stanley Kline,Dwight McKay, James Melville, Al¬len Rosenbaum, Howard Siegal,Richard Smith, Roy Warshawsky,Eugene Wemmer, and Dwight Wil¬liams.Hudson is a member of KappaSigma, and was in charge of pub¬licity for the Dramatic Associationduring the last year. O’Donnell, aPhi Kappa Psi, is a member of Oand S.Elected under the provision inThe Daily Maroon constitutionwhich makes juniors eligible for(Continued on page 4)House PresidentsConsider I-F PlanA meeting of all fraternity housepresidents has been called Mondayafternoon at 5 in Cobb 110 by theInterfraternity Committee and theGreek Council.The purpose of the meeting is toexplain to fraternity men the plansof the Greek Council this summerfor aiding the University in select¬ing entering freshmen. Glenn Hard¬ing, president of the Council, willmaintain an office here which willcollect data on prospective studentsand interest them in coming here.Photo by KamenJohn Rardnn William GoodateinPage Two THE DAILY MAROON, FRIDAY, JUNE 8. 1934Wife iailg iiaroanFOUNDED IN 1901The Daily Maroon i* the official student newspapw of ttieUniversity of Chicago, publii-hed mornings except Saturday,Sunday, and Monday during the autumn, winter, and springquarters by The Daily Maroon Company. 6831 University avenue.Subscription rates: $2.60 a year; $4.00 by mail. Single copies:three cents.No responsibility is assumed by the University of Chicagofor any statements appearing in The Daily Maroon, or for anycontracts entered into by The Daily Maroon.Entered as second class matter March 18, 1903, at the post-office at Chicago. Illinois, under the Act of March 3, 1879.The Daily Maroon expressly reserves all right of publicationof any material appearing in this paper^BOARD OF CONTROLJOHN P. BARDEN, Editor-in-C hiefVINCENT NEWMAN, Business ManagerWILLIAM GOODSTEIN, Managing EditorWALTER L. MONTGOMERY, Cir ulationJANE I. BIESENTHAL, Associate Ed’torBETTY HANSEN, Associate EditorEDITORIAL ASSISTANTSTom BartonNoel B. Geraon Howard P. Hwiaon Howard li. RichDavid H. Kutner Florence WiabnlckBUSINESS ASSISTANTSWilliam Bergman William O’Donnell kohert SamuelaSOPHOMORE REPORTERSEdgrar GreenebaumRuth GreenebaumCbarlea HoerrHenry Kelley Raymond Lahr Donald MorriaJanet Lewy Ralph Nicholaondurtia Melnick leanne StolteWilliam WataonSOPHOMORE BUSINESS ASSISTANTSRod Cbapin Zalmon Goldamith Gerald SternFrank Davia Howard Gottachalk Everett StoreyRobert McQoilkinPreaton CutlerMartin Gardiner EDITORIAL COMMITTEEHuntingrton Harria Linton J. KeithSidney Hyman Georg Mann I have indeed been guilty of “airinga private peeve” in the editorialcolumns of this paper, I deserve tobe exposed, and in any case I amalways happy when an assertion ofmine strikes some one as worthy ofserious contradiction.I am fully aware of the exist¬ence of other opinions besides myNight Editor: Merwin RosenbergAssistant: James SnyderJune 8, 1934 I thinking, and emergency responsibilities. Nervesbecome frayed and tempers short. Yet enthusiasm,not resentment, dominated activities of bothstaffs.The editor, who merely set up the organization,has been thankful and grateful every day he has jwatched it work. The Maroon was able to pre- .sent a united front to the campus and increase its | Editor, The Daily Maroon,effectiveness tenfold. The editor was allowed to ; , -I I am glad you found room foradminister vituperative editorial campaigns to the : k, jyf/g letter to appear^ in an-campus who enjoyed it all immensely, but not as , swer to my editorial of the 1st. Ifmuch as the editor. He knew he had his staff be¬hind him. He knew he could keep that staff andthe campus intrigued by making the Maroon a sig¬nificant, live, controversial newspaper.We have felt that the main function of a col¬lege newspaper is to comment upon educationaland intellectual trends on its campus, since its . . , „I own as to what constitutes “genuineuniversity audience should be most interested in j learning,” “essentials,” etc., and Ieducation and the intellect. 1 have no quarrel even now with anyLoyalty to the University should be a seK.im-1 o"' ‘hat the; questions a.sked in the examinationposed censor upon any editor of the Maroon. We i English 241 belong in that cate-have never printed anything without first asking ! gory. My objections were directedourselves, "Will this harm the University’s repu- i impo.ition of such opin-,, upon college students as thetation? ! right standard by which to measureWe have never hesitated to attack the stuffed j their qualifications for a Bachelor’sshirt element, found posing occasionally as the ; • t ^ ^ x •, . And the only thing I object to incream of the campus, though we knowingly sacri- j x. K. M.’s letter is his ill-manneredficed some of the petty triumphs this element has j attempt to discredit my side of theto offer. Having rubbed elbows with such persons Question by imputing such motivesfor several years on campus, we feel that it is not disappointment,” “arrant presump-merely familiarity that has so richly endowed us | tion,” etc. I leave it to the readerwith contempt for them, but an honest dislike for ' decide which shows a more ar-rant presumption —to express one’spettiness, narrowness, and stupidity. ; hone.st opinion in a matter aboutWe have been told that the Maroon this year | which every one is entitled to anhas been significant. We are proud to hand it toHoward Hudson, William O’Donnell, CharlesHoerr, David Kutner, Howard Rich, and WilliamBergman. We know that they will carry onnificantly.—J. P. B. -sig-WEAREPROUDi• Internally harmonious and cooperative, exter¬nally controversial and provocative. The DailyMaroon has blazed through academic year, 1933-1934.The Daily Maroon this year has newshawked,provoked, served^ fought, and paid—not much—but paid.The Maroon’s success at scenting and recordingthe news was conceded at the start.Jane Biesenthal, associate editor in charge ofassignments, has | sent Maroon reporters to everycorner of the campus every day. She not onlysent them; she s^w to it that they returned witha story, or a justifiable account about what hap¬pened to the stoiy.Betty Hansen, associate editor in charge ofcopy, saw to it that Maroon reporters rewrotestories until they were accurate, coherent, effec¬tive. •i ■. lWilliam Goodstein, managing editor* dailygathered in the straggling endeavors of the Ma¬roon editorial staff, made up the pages, and super¬vised night work at the printers. His executiveability and journtlfttic sense for page make-upwere indispensabl« to The Daily Maroon for 1933-1934.tEditorially the Maroon has never been man¬aged so smoothly, effectively, and pleasantly asby those three trusted lieutenants. Its editor hasnever been worried, as have many Maroon editors,by severe doubts that a paper would come out thenext day. 1We have said, (hcit the Maroon was a financialsuccess. , n»( SJiIUnder the lead'ersliip of Vincent Newman andWalter Montgomery, the business department ofThe Daily Maroon has achieved an esprit de corpsthat has been unknown in this department in re¬cent years on The Daily Maroon. TTris new spiritmay reflect better times in the business world;certainly it was rtjl^;wnsible for the success of New¬man and Montgomery who instilled in the businessstaff a new enthtt^aSDn by personal example anddiplomatic management.Enthusiasm, cooperation, harmony, and dip¬lomacy have chdtacterized the internal function¬ing of both staffs of The Daily Maroon this year.No internal dissenion has disrupted the Maroonorganization even for a day. The editor, amongother things, is the final arbiter on such matters.No dissension has become severe enough to reachthe edi’or in the course of the current year. Whenconsidi^red fully, this true statement is remarkable.Eighty\person8 are set to certain tasks in thedaily pro^ction of the Maroon. As a side diver¬sion .they also attempting to become educat¬ed. Newspapv'r work demands concentration, fast MORE GOODABYESTo Patterson for being a great boy and a won¬der the line, not to mention for racketability...To Nikki Krevitsky for being our Mona and abig help to so many organizations who neededgood art work in a hurry... .Peg Moore for herbeing BuelVs nemesis, and Don's sister.... Hen-ning for a swell year... .Eisendrath and Einsteinfor crashing thru several times when stuff wasscarce... .Harry Moore for an intelligent columnall year long... .Cnimc for her winning designs.. . .Sibley for hiding during the mustache wind¬up... .A6rcf/mws for droll wit Hempelnianfor enjoying it; pottery, pottery... .Lee for hiswisp of hair and his inanities... .Abrams for be¬ing one of the only real business man to crossthe threshold during the year... .Nicholson forkeeping Betty well cared for.... Tommy Flinnfor accomplishment and an interest in sweetMarzalie Biossat... .Johnny for holding on to theperty McCaskey... .Sharp for a nice-looking op¬eration and its public revelation... .//o/a/i«n forfor playing right with the'Twirp away.. .Greene-baum for many good ideas....Marion Oliver for her pinch nay... .Klaf terfor those pretty eyes, and stuff.. .Trees and Ellisfor starting for the quads in that bawl game... .Paulman for holding up her end in the .samefracas.... Blocki for being thataway about a not-to-be-mentioned man.... O’Donnell for his whim-. sies, and advice... .Wnp/ife for being Hoffer’sprize, with a wish that his after-graduation op¬eration will fix him up right... York Jimfor being a stout little old hoy... .Masterson formutual interests and his future ahead... .LibbyVaughn for having a goo’ time and picking upwith Bob Wilson... .Frank O’Hara for good talkstogether, and other things.... Evvie Parker forcoming from the dark to surprise everybody withthe best book of its kind.Betty O’Connor for her heart trouble and occas¬ional good evenings Pete Zimmer for his re¬versal of form.... Sherwood and Morris for po¬tentialities. .. .Bobby IPe?8s for getting into trou¬ble with a huhuhuhot rhumba Mort Adlerfor buying a pair of roller-skates to use on thedeck of the boat which will carry him throughthe Canal Zone, etc Bobby Vail for keepinging Laird well warmed through the seasons....Ruth Walters because she didn’t get upset whenwe wrecked the bumper on her new carMarion Kuehn for looking like a Vogue ad....Wilma for her sausage boy named Wally Log-roller Ettlinger for good humor Mauernvannfor golf balls sent to live with faraway bushesDeem for being intelligent besides being a pile ofrocks Margaret Graver and Allen Schlesingerbecause together they make a nice bundleGertie Senn for aspirations, and a complex....L. P. Smith for letting us go by, and a hopefor his huge success at Washington and Lee,whither he will hie away to teach and chairmanate next autumn Donkle for lining up theSteppers in great shape Kaufman for that'^‘ide to the Shoreland... .Jean Seymour for fur-\ lushing Sherwood a love interest.I Editor, The Daily Maroon,Dear Barden:May I congratulate you on theexcellence of your reply to }Gid-eonse’s editorial? Also on the previ¬ous one on intolerance?Only I wish you had indicatedthat the “tired young men” arechiefly graduate students who, mis¬understanding Dewey et al., and en¬couraged by their teachers in theSocial Sciences and the Humanities,protest against action and construc¬tive thinking of any sort, because itinvolves sacrificing their “neutral- ity,” without which “detachment” isimpossible, and with which any full,happy, or largely serviceable lift;is impossible.Faithfully yours,Lewis A. Dexter.We thank Mr. Dexter, though wesuspect this letter is carrying aslight backfire at someone.—ed.HUTCHINS—opinion, or “to pretend to some pri-; vate or God-given power of discern-' ing” the secret motives of a personwith whom one is not even person-I ally acquainted. T. K. M. may very■ well be the “specialist in English ofi the 18th century” that he thinks heI is, but he has yet to prove his com-I petence to read the minds of peoplewhom he does not know.An example of his incompetencein that line is his attempt to provein me a shameless “concern for ‘get-■ ting by’ with fulfilling ju.st the let¬ter of the law in requirements anda.ssignments.” Unless T. K. M. hasdevoted a good part of his leisure jhours during the last twenty years ', to reading and studying literature,he is hardly the one to give me apublic lecture on the subject of “get-I ting by.” The chances are all in■ favor of my having done many times' the amount of reading in 18th cen¬tury English literature that he hasdone. It happens too that I have! read all four of Fielding’s novels; within the past nine months, butnot with the sole end in view of be-I ing able on a final examination toI answer questions which prove noth-j ing more than one’s familiarity withI the table of contents.I think that questions having no' other object than that of discover-' ing whether students have read thematerial in a given course are abso¬lutely out of place in a college ex¬amination. The extent and qualityof one’s education is not shown inthe number of books one has reador is superficially aware of, but inthe thoroughness and accuracy withwhich one understands and assimi¬lates the contents of his reading. Acollege examination that purports tobe comprehensive should thereforeaim at testing a student’s grasp ofessentials rather than his memoryfor superficial details.That was the basis of my objec¬tion to the examination on English241. It contained altogether toomany questions which serve no otherpurpose than to check the student’sroutine performance of the assignedreadings, and much too few design¬ed to discover whether he has under¬stood an is able to evaluate whathe has read. Some people may thinkthat a fair type of examination. Idon’t. Hence I am glad to be con¬firmed in my judgment by the cir¬cumstance, which T. K. M. com¬pletely ignores, that the other partsof the English comprehensive wereall built along the lines I have beendescribing. The odds seems to beabout seven to one in my favor.Respectfully yours,Linton J. Keith.Mr. Keith’s opinion is the Ma¬roon’s opinion. Even if it were not,is opinion is reasonable and justi¬fied.—ed. (Continued from page 1)those of you who grauate nextweek, I shall be viewing you withmy usual sympathy and regret atConvocation; sympathy because itwill be hot and I expect to make avery long address; regret that youhave to leave us. The Class of *34is the last under the old plan. Youshowed the defects of your intelli¬gence and character when you elect¬ed Rapp president. I am fon of youwith the fondness which one feels for a rather dumb, but very game¬some animal. You have been a lotof fun. And you have, I think, areal affection for the University. Beassured that it is mutual.CLASSIFIED ADSATTRACTIVE, cool rooms formen summer school students. $15mo., $35 quarter. See Tom Eadie,Sigma Chi House, 5711 Woodlawn.WANT TO BUY good Model AFord road.ster or convertible. PhoneHdye Park 0736 evening.DREXEL THEATRE868 K. $SNTodayJohn BoIm in••ONLY YESTERDAY’TomorrowJamos Cagnoy in••JIMMY THE GENT"Discriminating BuyersuseBOOKS as GIFTSbecausethey are permanentthey express good tastethey reveal personalitythey usually pleaseBooks - Greeting Cards -and other Gift Items are to befound In the attractivedisplaysat theU. OF C. BOOKSTORE5802 ELUS AVENUEHAL KEMPreturns for the summerJune 17thCelebrate his first night at home and yourfirst night of vacation.We wish to take this opportunity tothank you for your patronage during theyear.It has always been our policy to givethe best music at a price which is attrac¬tive to your wallet. University studentshave requested the return of Mr. Kempand in compliance with their wishes weare bringing him back for the summer.Because of the acclaim which hasmade Marjorie Enters and Phillipe Borgiathe most popular dance team in Chicagothey alone have been retained as part ofthe new floor show that Hal brings withhim.Until June 16 Seymour Simons will,continue as the genial host at the Black-hawk.Good luck! May we see you duringthe summer. If not, here’s how until nextfall.BLACKHAWKWabash at Randolph/DAILY MAROON SPORTSFRIDAY. JUNE 8, 1934 Page Three“OLD MEN" TROUNCE PORTE AND MARVER LEAD IN"RIDS" 6-5 IN ANNUAL INDIVIDUAL I-M STANDINGBASEBALL BATTLECrisler, Page Sr., KaplanPitch in AlumniVictoryThe old boys, with crenkinp:joints, crutches and all the para¬phernalia symbolic of old aere andinfirmity, manaped to limp throughnine innings of baseball yesterdayto shame their youthful successois,6 to 5 in the annual alumni-varsityvarsity game. The alumni gatheredsix hits to the varsity's seven scat¬tered hits. The highlight of thegames was Libonati’s running catchof Comerford's long fly. The aged“Lib” galloped far over toward leftcenter to make a brilliant catch oveihis head.Heading the returning veterans ofancient Maroon battles was thefamous battery of Crisler and Hin¬kle, which operated for three inn¬ings of the game. Crisler and Hin¬kle, the “Gold Dust” twins, wereends on the baseball team, guardson the basketball team, and were asuccessful Maroon battery combina¬tion.Page BatteryThe Page battery of Pat, the elderand Pat the younger operated forthe final three innings of the game.This battery was perhaps the mostsuccessful of the day, Pat the elderhaving his former proteges swing¬ing wildly at his left-handed offer¬ings. Bob Kaplan, all-conferencetwirler not so long ago, split thealumni pitching as.signments. Lang¬ford. \ja\rd and Noval twirled forthe varsity.Nels Norgren played first for thegnay-beards, and got three walksbut nary a hit. “Chuck” Hoergor ofthe ancieiiL knocked himself adouble for the only extra base hitthe alums could gather. “Mose” Le¬vin led the varsity with two singles.Kyle .Anderson, the varsity conch,..ntributed a single in his only timeup, getting a walk in the only oth'i'time he faced his team.Summaries:r h eVarsity ...012 011 0 0 0—5 7 3.Alumni ...Oil 012 01 *—G 6 7Batteries, varsity, Langford, No-\ak, l.*ird and Lewis; alumni, Kap¬lan, Crisler, Page, Sr. and Cahill,Wingate and Page Jr.SportFlashesMichigan—The WoWerines-And Abe—-By TOM BARTON-Michigan, whose I-M departmentis one of the finest in the country,plan.s a comprehensive program forsummer students which will includecompetition in swimming, tennis,golf and playground ball. It isdoubtful if such a plan would workat this university during the sum¬mer, but we offer the suggestion.Development of intramural athlet¬ics at Michigan has not weakenedinterest in varsity competition atAnn Arbor. Michigan’s teams wontwo national titles and four Big Tenchampionships during the passingyear. In football and swimming theWolves were national champs, whilein football, swimming, golf and in¬door track the Michigan teams wonConference championships. In hoc¬key and tennis the Wolverines weresecond and in wrestling, baseballand outdoor track Michigan tookthird place in the Big Ten. Quite arecord for this Western Conference.We have to fill up this sheet withsomething so we might as well re¬tell this story as narrated by JoeMarshall, Trojan ex-tennis star. Itconcerns one Tamino Abe, Daviscup tennis ace from Japan. Whenthe Japanese coach was questionedabout Tamino’s questionable name,the venerable man replied that hewas called Abe in order to securethe support of New York city aswell as Japan... .which serves totake up a couple of inches anyway. . 1.23.4.5.G.7.8.9.10.11. Final Individual StandingsPorte, Phi Beta Delta.Marver, Phi Beta DeltaAskow, Kappa NuMoulton, Delta UpsilonGoldberg, Kappa Nu...Pritikin, Phi Beta Delta.Yedor, Phi Beta Delta.Hilbrant, Phi Kappa PsiBrown, Phi Kappa PsiBeal, Delta Kappa EpsilonPhemister, Delt Kap Ep. .495.417.414.363.360.353.325 '.319.314.307.307Ned Porte of Phi Beta Delta re¬tained his lead in the intramural in¬dividual point standings to hea thelist of participation point winnersfor the season of 1933-1934. Porteheld an advantage of almost 80points over his fraternity brother,A1 Marver, in second place.Phi Beta Delta, present I-Mchampion and three-times holder offirst place position, had six menamong the leading 25 place holders,four of these being in the first ten.Delta Kappa Epsilon placed fourmen in the first 25. Kappa Nu’s twoleaders ranked third and fifth in thestanding.Four Raite PositionFour of the ranking ten menraised their standing during the.spring se.ssion relative to their posi¬tions at the end of the winter quar¬ter. Marver rose from third to sec¬ond, Askow from fifth to third,.Moulton from sixth to fourth, andGoldberg from ninth to sixth. Yedor,due to his baseball activities, relin¬quished the second place positionthat he held at the end of last quar¬ter, while Pritikin dropped fromfourth to sixth during the springperiod.Only three of the present season’s leaders were among the first 20 oflast year’s winners. Marver amassed504 points during the 1932-1933 sea¬son to win first place. Prince, 14ththis year, was one place better inlast year’s standings, while Moulton,Delta Upsilon, ranked 14th last year.The total number of men compet¬ing in Intramural sports this yearwas 1142 as compared with 1106for the 1932-33 season. This increasewas greatest in the Spring quarter.Playground ball led in the numbercompeting with 510 with tennis fol¬lowing w’ith 214. The Dekes led thefraternity list with 45 men enteredand were trailed closely by Psi U,44, and Alpha Delt, 41. Burette andBalance with 27 entries led the in¬dependents followed by the ChicagoTheological Seminary entries, 25,and the Ponies 21.HOW’S YOUR GAME?You will improveit with the rightquality racket,workmanship andJOHNSON’STennis StringsPark (Urttnia (£0.NINE-O-TWO EAST FIFTY-SIXTH ST.Hyde Park 6501{Ontury of Pro*re»«)DOBE HOUSERESTAURANT26th ST. and ERICKSON DRIVEDI.N’E AND DANCENo Cov*r Charvfr—No Admiation Fe« ’RAINING,YOU CAN sell/Train for buainoas leadership at this schoolof succeMful srraduatea. Business Ad¬ministration, Executive Secretarial, Steno-typy. Accounting, etc. Day or Eve. clasaes.Coeducational. Call, write or phone Ran.1676 for bulletin.BiT'an^SlrattonCtUiEOE18 SOUTH MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGOJust a WordOF CONGRATULATION to all thegraduating Seniors. May your careerbe one of success, and be as happyas your college days. We know youwill always be a supporter of theSchool and its institutions.OF THANKS to all our loyal support¬ers in the student body. We.appre¬ciate your constant patronage andhope it will continue.TO REMIND YOU—for that eveningsnack, or cooling drink, Palm Grovewill be ever ready to serve* youthroughout the summer with thefinest food and refreshment.PALM GROVE INN56th St. and the Outer DriveBy the Shores of Lake Michigan ‘Dutch ’’Fehring MayPlay with Chicago“Dutch” Fehring, Purdue’sthree sport star, may play baseball with Chicago—not the Ma¬roon nine, but the Chicago WhiteSox. Fehring, named the mostvaluable player on the 1934 Boil¬ermaker team, is in Chicago andwill appear with the White Soxfor a tryout. “Dutch,” all-Ameri¬can linesman, was catcher on thePurdue team. Fehring is not theonly Bdg Ten athlete scheduledfor the Majors. Wistert of Mich¬igan and Ted Petoskey, a team¬mate are on trial with Cincinnati;Ed Lagger and Herb Harris areup, Lagger with the Athletics andHarris with the Cubs. STINEWAY DRUGSTORENewly opened at 57th and Ken¬wood offers to University students acomplete line of toilet articles andA MODERN LUNCH ANDREFRESHMENTFOUNTAINCONTACT!Every student in the University is a potential sales¬man.Hundreds of desirable high school students are inyour home town or community.Contact them!Persuade them, the best of them to come to yourAlma Mater.Your University is one of two leading institutions inthe country.IOur equipment, faculty, reputation is second to"one! .Merely tell prep-school leaders about the University—they'll come! -J.P.B.Your University Training Isan AssetYour Loyalty 1$ a UniversityAsset ! -COOPERATE!THE DAILY MARO(5N, FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 1934Today on theQuadranglesS5 day. Olympia FieldsSenior Cla7 ‘to 12.Religion Parker high school auded theDiMnity chapel. Professor Clay- Chicago city high school title toton R. Bowen, Meadville Theologi- their collection of triumph^ yester-cal school. Joseph Bond chapel at when the south netmen Jefcat-on the University cou>'ts,Lectures four matches to one. Parker hadPublic lecture (History of Sci- ' pre\iously won the University inter-encti ‘ Thi Hist r> of Histc r\ sth«lastK tnurneyAssociate professor Louis Gott- Johnny Shostrom, '“arker highsc^alk. Harper Mil at 4:45. phenomenon, , again captured thePublic lecture (Downtown) ‘Ihe 'ingle title hj conquering (hosierRelativity Theory.” Piofessor Frank Murphy in straight sets, 6-1, 6-3.Hoyt. Fullerton hall. Art Institute, | Johnny forced the playing through-at 6 45 out the match and clearly showed hi<>“The Human Adventure.” Orien- superiority over te Tilden ace. Shos-tal Institute movie. International trom also added another point to theHou.se theater at 4 30 Parker total by whitewashing Mt-Mitcellaneous , Coy, 6-0, 6-0.Alumni conference. Judson Court I Charles Sfiostrom, John’s broth-at 9 a. m. ! er, also contributed to the fourRush medical college clinics at marker® aggregated by the oham-9 a. m. - I pions by defeating McCoy, 6-2, 6-4. -University aides’ dinner. Ida The fourth point was gained ohNo.\t' hall at 5 30 McCabe and Joigan-on ^ double' .ic-Kent Chemical society dinner, tory over Bill Murphy.and Swanson.Cloister club of Ida Noyes at 6:30. ,Alumni assembly. InternationalHouse at 8.30.Alumni DaySATURDAY, JUNE 9Quadrangler alumnae dinner. Ida iNoyes, at 5:30. I.Alumni conference. Judson .Court ■Rush medical college clinics. 9 a. I We thought last Friday’s columnw.i' to lie' our .swan ‘••■ng, b>it new-IS scarce—so here we are post¬scripting. ...Kiist (f all, we now ( ui heads in'hame Here LOI.'^ CROMWELLhas been we.aring ah engagemen,tnow—and neither we him our 'pu*'spotted it....It was pre.'ented byFRANKLIN KLFIIN an < iT eampu''lad There doe‘-n't tim t In anofficial plan for the wt'ilding, as yet’.....But along with everyone elsewe wish Lois and hei tian thebest of better future.'. ...In an idle monun* (oh >e'. wehave them) we c imjiri'Pil a listof those on campus whom you seemost on local parties—These reg-SOCIETYfcySUZANNEAlumnae breakfast. Ida Noyeshall at 11:30Alumni tea. Hitchcock hall at 3.Rt union revue. Mandel hall atAlumni supper. Hutchinson com¬mons at 5.30.Annual meeting of Rush medicalcollege alumni. Palmer house at5 30 Dinner at (> ioAnnual dinner of doctors of phil¬osophy. ‘International House atBand concert. Ilutchin'On courtat 7:45. •University Sing. Hutchinson courtat 8:15. Induction of Aides andMarshals. Presentation of “C”blanketsPhi Delta Lpsilon Lil rar> of I laNoyes. 3 to 8.SUNDAY, JUNE 10Societv of Fneiid-i-Quakcr “CanWe Have Civil Liberty in Chicago?”Theodore Noss. 1174 E. 56th street.Convocation prayei 'eivicc Thel'niver®it> ehajiel at in.Convocation religious service.The lniv(»'ii\ chai«1 The ReverendCharles W. Gilkey. At 11Organ music. "The University cha¬pel at 4:30.f anllon recital ll'ie*'le*rick Mar¬riott. 7:30. fAli)ha Ep'ilon Iota Y \\ C. 4'room of Ida Noyes. 4 to "6.Billings students. Alumni roomand South reception loom 3 to h.MONDAY, JUNE 11Motion picture: “Poil'dt Garotte.’’Inteination.il lb use theater at 1 30 COODBY, SCHOOL DAYS - HELLO. FUN!an(d Ficl(d’s formal fashions will banish saidmemories of exams anid assure you a marvelous timeat the glamorous parties which top off all the agonyAdele Sandman will be equally effective dancingin the ballroom or star-gazing on the first tee in thissaucy dotted organdy in white accented with redvelvet A huge bunch of cherries provides a giddynote for an otherwise demure frock S27 75 m theAfter Five Room, sixth floor.Valerie Johnson looks sweet and lovely in aflower-printed mousselinc de soie The Directoirewaistline, the graceful flowing lines of the train, andthe softly blended colors of the print will make thewearer of this dress a joy to behold at any swankspring formal. Also S29 75 m Misses’ BetterDresses, sixth floor.HUDSON, O’DONNELLHEAD ’34-’35 MAROONMARSHALL FIELD & COMPANYM. SHINDERMANTAIIXJRIN'C an.1 CI.EANINGM. Zat7. Prop.C'lminif, hu tt)r 2i Yiarn111 F "jth Mid 6‘i58 (Continued from page 1)the rnivcTMty, and a®.‘-i'>tant jmjfcs-®i>r of French (' blankets and '•pc-cial nu laN will th> n be awai led togradua'ing ''••iiior' b\ T NcKfiiiMetcalf, director of athletics. II h« fin il II i( I'urc of th» c v i -ning will 1* th«' piisintation of thequality and ejuantity cups to the jWinning fiattrnitic-' The Church ofThe Redeemer(EPISCOPAL)56th and BlackstoneRev, E. S. WhiteEpiscopal Student Pastor THE FIRST UNITARIANCHURCHWooclldwn Avenue and East 57th StreetOGDEN VOGT, D I). MinisterUNIVERSITY CHURCH OFDISCIPLES OF CHRIST5655 University AvenueDr Edward Scribner Ames, Min.=terSUNDAY. JUNE 10. 1934FOR GRADUATIONTHRU MONTHS' COURSI■ couaei BTvaf NTS and orao«atm MNDX’I.JLNf 10 19 341 1 :00 .A M —' Anchors of Life, ” ISUNDAY SERVK ESHoly Communion, 8:00 and9:30 A. M.Choial Eucharist, 11 00 A. M.E/ensong, 6:60 P. M.Three services every week-dayChurch open daily for prayer andmeditation.10:30 A M—Communion Service11:00 A. M.—Sermon subject: “Are ThereToo Mdn> PeojileJ ' Dr \mes6:00 P. M.—Wranglers. Tea. Program.8:00 P. M.—TTie Disciples Divinfity Convo¬cation will he held in the church audi-See our fine st let tionReasonably priced.-Hydc Park WatchRepair and Jewelry1026 E. 55th St.We are certain you will be sat¬isfied with our expeH work. 8.90 p M—Meadville Theological SchoolBdcrcilaureate Sermon- “DominantMotives in \merican Hibtoiy,” Dr Rob¬ert J. Hutcheon.BUSINESS COLLEOeiMfiMOsis, Aa..m.s.pfcrft—>COMMENTThe University of Chicago Literary and Critical QuarterlyVolume 2 Number 1 Winter Quarter, 1934 Price Twenty-five Centsart AND AESTHETICS . by MORTIMER J. ADLERMan (It P helps flu fell inThis is an attempt to state briefly afew of the principles of aesthetics inthe light of the philosophy of art Aesthctics IS an analytic science. It is an analysis of works of fine art Aesthetics mustnot be confused with appreciation or withcriticism in the sense of an evaluation ofworks ot fine art as good or bad Aesthetics;, purely a matter of analysis a matter ofdefining and classifying different kinds ofworksIn order to move into the realm of aes¬thetic analysis, we must prepare ourselves!n an undcrstancfing of what art is, andhow fine art is distinguished from otherkmd^ of art The word art ' is f^iopularlyused as a synonym for the phrase "fineart , and by "fine art" most peo()le meanthe plastic fir'ie arts of paintings and sculpture It IS by such an unfortunate popularmi .u^n of words that we speak of 'TheArt Institute, which is strictly a r’nuseumtor the cxhil.)ition of works of [dastic fineart Furthermore the word art is usei.1i'o.th for the pov\cr which an artist has ofmaking something, and for the thing whichhi makes We shall answer the ijuestion.What Is art^ In re- tncting the meaning oftl'f word art" to d'-'.ignate an intellectualpower which all mrm have, tfie piower of.nte!liL,fnt pr(;dui tion, the [)Ov\cr to makethinp'- u-itcntionahv that i-., with fore1- ruiwu dge of the kind 'sd tliin;; to he madein this issueIAkT AND ALsTHtTICSk1ort:nier j AdifiPOkfkAIT IN PROFILEMauds- Plu'lt! FliitH'iirV:THE TALK OF THE lOWNArista F isiii I 1LONNET Maru.arct bt.au'Ml! LS TO THE NORTH'udnes FKn’ianMADMAN STALE Elder Oi .onEDUCATION PREFERRED RT-1)ohn BardenTHE DAWN OF THE NEWEDUCATION Max SchoenTHE FORMULATION OF A ’DILEMMA Fritz Leil)ei, )rSHERIDANIANA iGeorge T Van der HoefHENRY B. FULLER |Percy Holmes Boynton 'BUST OF FULLER Lorado TaftI SUN FLOOD Carl Skau All men have this power, butnot all men use or develop thispower which they possess.Those men who do, and whoby the repeated making ofthings acquire disciplined orregulated habits of produc¬tion, we call artists. Artistsdiffer from other men by be¬ing habitually skilled makers.What IS made, the thing pro¬duced, we shall speak of as awork of art.We must next considerwhat IS involved in any act ofmaking To make anything isto create it. Creation consistsin the construction of an indi¬vidual thing out of matter ofone sort or another. The thingthus constructed is not mere¬ly an individual thing: it mustalso always be a kind of thingThe kind to which a thing be¬longs IS its form It is thusclear that any created thingmust be composed of bothmatter and form, and since itIS created by construction,which IS putting materialparts together m a certainway so as to exhibit a certainform, it always has a struc¬ture This structure is alwaysunuque Different works ofart mav be alike in form: but they must bedifferent in structure. Each must have its;.'wn individual structure.Creation cannot be accidental. If a catwere to walk upon the keys of a piano ac¬cidentally in such a way as to produce asonata, we would not say that the cat had( rcated a sonata. Similarly what a man ac-ridcntallv causes to come into being, hedoes not create. Creation must be inten¬tional, and, furthermore, it must involvethe intellect This last criterion dis¬tinguishes creation from procreation, it isfor this reason that we do not speak ofchildren as works of art, even when theyare intentionally begotten.Finally, we must distinguish betweenfiuman and divine creation. Divine creationIS primary creation: it is creation of boththe matter and form of things. Human cre¬ation IS secondary or derived: it must em¬ploy matter which is already created andalready has some form: it must imitate theforms which man discovers in already cre¬ated things. Borrowing both matter andform from nature, that is, from thingsdivinely created, man creates by construc¬tion and by imitation. All works of humanart can, therefore, be defined as imitative PORTRAIT IN PROFILEconstructions: and it is one of the baViCtasks of aesthetics to understand the imi¬tative and constructive aspects of works offine art. But just as we acknowledge thatdivine creation is a mystery, that it sur¬passes our finite power of understanding,so we must admit that there is ultimatelya mystery in human creation. Aestheticsmay give us an analysis of different kindsof humanly created things, but it must al¬ways fail to give us an analysis of their in¬dividuality, We cannot understand humancreation as the making of individualthings. The importance of this point in thephilosophy of art will be seen shortly.There are four causes of any act of mak¬ing. the final cause, which is the purposeof the production, the end which it serves;the efficient cause, which is the technicalactivity of the artist, the actual operationsperformed in the doing of the work; thematerial cause, which is the kind of mat¬ter upon which the artist performs theseoperations; and the formal cause, which isthe kind of object which the artist seeksto produce by the construction of the ma¬terial elements. It should be noted at oncethat the material and formal causes are al¬ways correlative. To produce a certain kindof object, a certain kind of matter mustbe used; the kind of matter which is useddetermines the form which can be im¬posed upon it. These distinctions enable usto separate works of useful art from worksof fine art, and further to distinguish thedifferent fields of fine art. A work of artis said to be useful if it serves as a meansto an end, if a final cause for its beingmade can be assigned. A work of art issaid to be fine, as opposed to useful, if itdoes not serve as a means to an end, ifthe object produced is final in the sensethat it itself is the end which the produc¬tion served. On this finality which worksof art-may possess rests the distinction be¬tween their beauty and rheir utility. Anygiven work or art may be v.ewed either asuseful, as serving sorr,e extrinsic purpose,or as beautiful, as final, as an end in itself.The artist may have intended a given workto be useful or to be beautiful, but thereis nothing in the nature of the work cre¬ated which unavoidably requires anyone toconsider it as merely useful or as purelybeautiful. The distinction between usefuland fine works of art is further illuminatedby the tact that, whereas every work of art15 an individual thing, we are concernedwith the individuality of only such worksas we consider fine. We do not call chairsor spocns or automobiles by proper names;but every poem or musical composition orpainting has a distinctive title or opusnumber. A work of fine art, a thing ofbeauty, is always treated as an individualthing.Works of fine art are thus distinguishedfrom works of useful art in terms of theirfinal cause. We now proceed to distinguishdifferent kinds of fine art in terms of theirformal and material causes. The primarykinds which classify works of fine art arethree; namely, music, plastic and poetic.This classification can be understood in anumber of different ways, but for ourpresent purposes we shall emphasize onlythat the kind of matter, which each ofthese fine arts employ, is radically and ir-reducibly different from that emploved inthe other two; that, since the form of awork is strictly correlative to its matter,the forms of plastic work are utterly d ffer-ent from the forms of music and poetry,and conversely; and that, therefore, theformal object of imitation is different foreach of these three fine arts. It fo'lowsthat the mode of sensory reception and themanner of existence of there three has cfine arts must be different. Plastic worksexist as visible and tangible; musicalworks exist as audible, either by the inneror the outer ear; poetic works exist in theimagination. Other distinctions can bemade among works of fine art, such, forinstance, as that based on whether thework of art exists in motion or at rest, inwhich case the dance must be treated asplastic in motion in contrast to sculpture,let us say, as plastic at rest. The p-'imaryarts can be distinguished from the auxil¬iary arts; the latter are dependent on theformer, as the auxiliary arts of the theatredepend on the art of poetrv which pro¬duces dramatic narratives, or as the art ofthe musical executant, the violinist or theorchestral conductor, depends on the artof the composer which is the primary artof music. We shall consider, however, only the basic distinction of works of fine artas plastic, musical and poetic.The most important consequences ofthis aesthetic analysis is the recognitionthat there can be no translation or fusionof the different fine arts. It is clear thatplastic and poetic forms are not receivableby musical matter, that poetic and musicalforms are not receivable by plastic matter,and so on. It should also be clear, then,that neither a piece of music nor d paint¬ing can tell a story or sing a song; a storyor a song is a work of narrative or of lyricpoetry. That the different arts arc utterlyseparate and untranslatable can be seen inthe fact that when they are fused, or morestrictly speaking confused, they can al¬ways be completely separated without anyloss. The programme of a piece of music,or the dramatic narrative of an opera, canbe completely destroyed without in theleast affecting the musical compositionwhich remains. That there is no affinitybetween the arts can also be seen in thata story, for instance, can be illustrated byan indefinite number of pictures. There isno one picture which illustrates the storyto the exclusion of others. Similarly if onetried to tell a story as an accompanimentSojuiet l)y Inigo Pavlov IXTh< musts an all iltatl, aial tai' flitirfoail).1 sttlifafji aittaratr (jnijns aad trtt'jts.Tht I t is at) IhtHttflif iif it'ht ft Aitalh)sit I jisAiitl barn It i ta-ks lit laht n (diiiaititshtanit (IWhilt ht i't, ta itfltf rtinstt raatiita, satifTht fa arils of a thoitsaail aiititls t/oatlaatlAail ratiics, with ati pttftiift, hart tat aflailla i/loota, it'ifh nothiat/itt ss for t rt r laort.lit jfoail this jtali I a stoat far loft a htillI SCI at to h'nr thr harp itia fiiti/i rs plapiilIII fori thr (fraai! priaii I'al lorils of ilairii.(til lit thrsi rratHtr Ililials fair arpoa thr pahaliiai tht p proaillii aiaih ,.1/// frtins an sirtit—ani iloaos raa atn rfall.EiliUo 's .\i)l( : 77n.s- is fnoii n sioiikI si tjto ik iii'i ittrii hji M. Piirlitr ibo oiij u l•lllltitll nti ia intill' llillll/iinl Ilf ( hillnii. III has I'li'iiltli/ ri'i'ii iiiilIII till' I'nifi rsitji.to a painting one would find that onecould tell an indefinite number of stories.Most people, unfortunately, do not seeplastic works or hear musical composi¬tions, they use plastic works or music asan accidental circumstance for making upstories. Such literary interpretatiof, ofplastic or music is a basic confusion of thearis. It IS and has been prevalent amongartists as well as in the public. Artists forthe most part are only artists; they are notcompetent as aestheticians as well.Aesthetics consists in the analysis ofthe different kinds of plastic work, thedifferent kinds of musical composition,the different kinds of poetry. Aestheticanalysis has been well done in some fields,and poorly in others; but even if it werecompletely and perfectly done, each workof art would still exist as an individualthing, and its individuality would remain unanalyzed. How do we know, then, theindividual thing as an individual. The artistknows the individuality of the thing onlyby creating it; he cannot say what it is hehas created, either before or after he hascreated it, since his only knowledge of theindividuality of the thing is expressed inhis construction of it. We, who are notartists, can only know the individual workof art by direct appreciation of it, nor canwe say what we thus know, since anythingwe say must be either an aesthetic analysisof the kind of work it is, or some enumera¬tion of Its traits and properties, or somerevelation of our private and personal feel¬ings about it—none of which grasps theindividuality of the thing as it exists. Theappreciation of a work of art is, therefore,something which must not be confusedwith aesthetic analysis, or with the kind ofcriticism which either is some partial de¬scription of the work or an evaluation tothe critic’s feelings It is important toknow what cannot be talked about, whatIS ineffable The artist cannot say what hehas made, nor can anyone else say what itIS that he appreciates With respect to anywork of fine art. the difference betweenthe artist s knowledge of it and the pub¬lic's knowledge of it is the difference be¬tween active and passive, between theknowledge which the maker has of thething because he can make it and theknowledge which the public has because itcan appreciate what has been made Theartist’s knowledge of his own work isclearly both prior and superior to theknowledge which even the best appreci-ator can have of itIt has been said that the artist is usuallynot an aesthetician The artist need notknow aesthetic principles, or the analysisof the field of fine arts in which he is aworker He must have good habits of mak¬ing, habits which have been developed un¬der the discipline of the right rules Norneed he know these rules explicitly; hemust know them only in the sense thatthey have regulated the formation of hishabits; he possesses them in the skill ortechnique by which he makes. The teacherof art must know the rules differently; theteacher must know the rules so as to beable to direct the operatons of his pupilsand thus tram their powers into wellformed habits; the teacher may or maynot possess the rules as acquired skill. Theteacher who was a master of aesthetics aswell as of the rules of technicjue would besuperior to one who lacked the latterknowledge But an artist who was bothan accomplished technician and a masterof aesthetic analysis would be a doublepersonality, and might both profit andsuffer from the abnormality of this conditicnThe artist is prior to the aestheticianin the order of making, works of fine artmust be produced before they can be analyzed But the aesthetician is prior tothe artist in the order of understanding,since the work can be produced withoutany understanding of its nature But boththe artist and the aesthetician are inade¬quate. The artist is niore like Cod in thathe is a creator The aesthetician is morelike Cod in that he has understanding.But it is wise for neither of them to com¬mit the sin of Lucifer, the angelic sin ofwishing to be Cod.COMMENTPage TwoTHE TALK OF THE TOWN .IN A little town whose name is unim¬portant there lived not long ago MissNellie Swain, a spinster. She was a thin,quiet, harmless creature whose womanlycontour,> had long ago been subdued bythe years to a blameless angularity, andwhose life as well had been picked so bareby time that no one now rememberedwhere she had come from or why she hadstayed when she came. The town had noth¬ing in common with her but its dullness,and under the mantle of this dullness theinhabitants lived as blandly as frogs in apond.It was the sort of a town where peopleget up in the morning when the clocks tellthem to, where they say good day when itIS day and good night when it is night, andwhere they talk on the porches m the eve¬ning when their work is done They werehonest and industrious and interested inone another, and there was nothing any¬body did that everybody else did not wantto know It was the sort of town in which,when people talk, their talk is fearedPerhaps they talked about Nellie be¬cause she was too timid to join with them,or perhaps their conversations just gotstarted about her and the inertia of speechsimply carried them on. Surely Nellie herself never wanted any talkBut if she did not want it. why did shewear those hats^Those hats so large, so rich, so flourish¬ing with flowers—those hats with birds onthem, and butterflies' Anybody in towncould have spoken up from any of the darkand secret porches and informed her thatPans decreed turbans-over-the car forspringShe would come out of her little apart¬ment above the Pharmacy and walk downMam Street alone, casting timid looks allround and wearing a worried smile becauseof those who passed her on the sidewalk.Her steps were quick and aimful but al¬ways rather guilty too, as if she were atthe point of giving the whole feeble con¬test up at any moment, and would even doso gladly if only someone would approachher and place a hand on her shoulder withthe words: “Come now, it’s time to givein.”Every spring she would make over herwardrobe for the year, and every springthe townswomen speculated over how herfamiliar costume would once more bechanged, as if in guessing about Nelliethey were also guessing tfie riddle of lifeand fate and all those other phenomenawhich have been described so many timesas forever changing, yet forever remainingthe same.And finally she would emerge, a famil¬iar spectacle and a perennial surprise, inan old tight-waisted suit of green restoredto elegance with lace, or with a profusionof little bows, perhaps, which fluttered asshe walked along. Or perhaps she had usedthe fur from some old muff of her youth(which the spectators had failed alto¬gether to take into consideration) andwith it had made the hem of her dress asplendor and a conversational emergency.She would walk a little way, just for theair, her step at once so listless and sosmart, her lonely eyes looking around and about and up and down, the flowers in herhat all rustling and tremulous. Neigh¬bors would speak from the porches as shepassed. Stout men with coats off, feet up,the braces loose and comfortable noddedfrom their rocking chairs, and their stoutwives said good day if it was day, and goodevening if it was evening.The end and climax of Nellie’s outingwould always be the candy counter of thePharmacy. She would enter with a worriedair, brightly inspecting the bottles andcameras and jars, until without appearingto be doing so. she gradually approachedher candy-counter Paradise. Here shewould fall into an ecstacy of scrutiniza-tion. Every bar and bonbon seemed tocrouch and hide under her worried gaze.She would even pick up one or two littlepackages, turn them over, and with ex¬quisite carefulness set them down again.The boy behind the counter would growimpatient Still Nellie would remain, moretimid and more stealthy, her sad eyes afew inches over the glistening packages,while she uttered vague and deprecatingsounds and failed to make up her mind.But at last her hand would move withprecision, and she would pick up a bar ofsweet chocolate in a violet paper—alwaysthe same and fumble in her beaded pursefor change. The impatient boy, his servicein stagnation and a quietus upon him,would wait for the nickel, the inevitableyet almost forever imminent nickel; andthen the pennies, the five pennies thatmounted with slow accretion, reluctant.SoJUiet Margaret StoneThr<ii(<ih nunm nextvrdays I thouyht tolindPeace in the loviny pressure of a hand.There teas an urgency in my demand,A singleness of purjmse in my mindI should be happy now to hare again,lietter the futile yearning of the flesh,The interludes that strengthen and re¬fresh .Than this inrolred. this unarailing pain..\atious which bend the knee before a godOf the earth earthen, as themselres areclay.Find a sure comfort in the pious fraud,.And lire for the brief comfort of the day.They possess comfort only in their gracesWho seek forerer what the spirit crares.final, and a little warm from her nervoushands.It did no good to slap them into the tillthat way, and bang the drawer so hard.Nellie would go out with her sweetchocolate. Now she lingered no more onMain Street, but quickly climbed thestairs to her little apartment over thePharmacy, and there in seclusion, wherethere was no one to watch or speak, shedevoured her prize.Nobody knew how she managed to live,or whether living seemed worth doing toher. She would really not have been no¬ticed very much if it had not been for hercurious clothes—and Charlie Bly. by ARISTA FISHERCharlie would not have been an import¬ant member of any parish, you might say.Nor would he have minded if he heard yousay so, for Charlie was a little queer.While his mother lived he was v/ellenough, if you did not expect too much ofa man, but when she died Charlie beganto be seen doing things, and they werequeer. Mrs. Bly herself was a fierce oldbody, so uniquely ancient that she seemedless a mother than an ancestor who hadcheated many an embalmer in her time,and would cozen many another before shewas done. She endured, she held out snarl-ingly against destiny and looked afterCharlie, her boy, she saw that he washedthe teeth she had bought him, she saw thathe came in at night. He was soft, Charliewas, he was soft all over, he had a softsmile and he had weak eyes, his lips wereloose and his chin was a dimple in coy in-virons of tender fat, he was sixty, his hairwas frizzed and gray, he was a good boy.He mowed lawns for anybody whowould have him, and the shiny blades ofhis mower made him very proud indeed.He would push it with a soft insistenceover the grass, thrusting out his tenderlips and trying to frown. The immemorialMrs. Bly said the exercise was good forhim and that he needn’t be ashamed tostep right up and ask anybody if he couldcut their grass; it was honest labor andhardened his character, and she was aproud woman when he brought his pocket¬ful of quarters home.But one day she lay down a little earlierthan usual in the afternoon, and beforenight she had joined all Charlie’s other an¬cestors. What could poor Charlie do now?He did many things, and they werequeer.The first thing he did, when his oldmother was finally covered away, was toclose the little white house she hadbrought him up in for sixty years. Theneighbors peered out from behind theirparlor curtains in astonishment and sawhim nailing the windows down.“Why, Charlie Bly, whatever are youdoing?” they cried, running out.“I’m nailing the windows, mam,” Char¬lie said.“And whatever are you doing that for,Charlie?”“To keep ’em shut.” And he pushed outhis soft little lips and frowned like a realcarpenter as he hit each nail a big blow.“Well, I do say!” cried the neighbors.They told their husbands all about it whenthey came home that night.”Umph-umph,” said the husbands,opening out their newspapers.The next day Charlie went to live in anapartment over the Pharmacy, the nextone to Nellie Swain’s.Well! Of all the queer things, when hehad a good house all his own.Charlie liked the lights on Main Street.They would see him looking down on thePharmacy sign, which spread a blue glowover the wall and made the windowsgleam, his round white face leaning on thewindowsill like a placid dish.Not long after that he bought a dogfrom Mr. Milutich, who kept the fish mar-(Please turn to Page Eight)Page Three COMMENTMILLS TO THE NORTHTO THE North where the mills flankedthe lake, the sky of the summer nightappeared to the boy seated on the win¬dow seat like an interminable plate ofdirty copper. And when the boy lookedabove him, the moon shone like a silverplate imbedded in a flowered wall.On the street below, the boy cast butfleeting glances. He knew every filthystone on it; every bump and crack in itspavement. But a few years back he hadaspired to stand on the street corner asa part of those men andlaugh along with them attheir ill-generated hu¬mor. Still earlier in timehe was counted amongthe brats who scurriedabout on the street in thehysterical pursuit oftheir night games. Likethat child there, he tooused to pick up halfeaten pieces ot water-mellon discarded earlierin the evening by thenegroes living on theblock. Then he woulddart for a dark rubbish-filled passageway andthere he would drenchhis grimy face in water-mellon juice. And thesememories brought backthe sensation of a con¬stricted feeling about histhroat that came fromhis hurried attempts toeat down to the rindlest his father or motherdiscover him and draghim forth to the warningof certain death shouldhe pursue forever thisdiet.It was but a few yearsback that he too actedthe role of the dutifulchild and sat at the feetof his mother on thatcurb stone, while hismother discussed withthe amorphous neighborwomen the troubles sheexperienced preceedinghis birth. He would in¬wardly swell with prideas the neighbor womenuttered their words ofcommendation on how'big a boy he was even though. . . .Andhis face would set itself in an angelic smilepresently to form into a pucker when hismother would impulsively hug him as ameans of punctuating the final sentence inher narrative. Like that very child downthere, he would disengage himself from hismother’s embrace and run off with thedelirious happiness of his self importanceto contribute and learn equally interestingthings from his playmates.The purr of a motor car drew his con¬centrated attention to the street. Thelight from the Creek coffee shop nextdoor reflected on the face of the car’s oc¬ cupants. They were boys his age. Yes,they were West side boys. Two of themhe knew and he recognized them to be theboys he had played against in that memor¬able inter-city high school football game.Like himself they too had graduated atthe commencement exercises earlier inthe day. This no doubt was part of theirgraduation party—slumming in the honkydistrict—slumming in the district inwhich he lived.The boy slid off the window edge andslunk back into the black shadows of hisroom. He feared that the boys in the carmight glance up to where he sat and rec¬ognize him; he who had knocked out oneof those boys to block and recover a puntfor a winning touchdown. He stiffenedfrom the thought that those West sideboys would find him living in the heartof the South side. 11th avenue and Polkwas bad enough, but Wabash and 10th?He heard the car stop. And peeringfrom behind one of the soot covered cur¬tains in his room, the boy saw a negressin the street below amble up to the caron the invitation of the car’s occupants.He saw the boys nudge each other and he hy SIDNEY HYMANheard their laughter resounding above thelaughter coming from the men on thestreet corner. Confidently swaying up tothe car, the negress paused momentarily,and turning around she beckoned to herfriend, who stood slouching in the doorway, to come over with her. Just at thatmoment, the boy at the wheel derisivelystepped on the gas and recklessly droveoff, narrowly missing a group of childrenwho had paused to witness this not infre¬quent spectacle From an increasing dis¬tance, the boys turnedtheir backs, and uproari¬ous with laughter, theythumbed their noses atthe negress who in dis¬gust had returned to herpost in the doorway.?: O >.*1The face of the wit¬nessing boy burned withhumiliation That Westside crowd in its arrogantself confidence was ineffect mocking him.They had come on theSouth side to have theirfun at the expense ofpeople like himself Andyet he had defeated thatcrowd in a high schoolfootball game In thatinstance the memories ofhis athletic triumphs inhigh school served as thebalm for this mortifica¬tion The cheers of thecrowd: the voices heheard shouting his name,the applause he heardearlier in the afternoonwhen he was awardedhis diploma — eventhough it came frompeople like those on thestreet from the Mexi¬cans, the negroes, theSlovaks, and the Serbswhose own children hadgraduated with him, allbecame amplified athousand times and yet,though he resisted thethought, he knew thathe never again would beas important in his com¬munity as he was in highschool when he was un¬consciously looked uponas a champion of the South side in itsclass struggle. The victories he won wereconceived to be the victories of the Southside masses against their West side bosses.But now, with his graduation, other cham¬pions would take his place This was theclimax of his life The smooth talkers inhis graduating class might get ahead, buthe had only brawn to his credit. Andthough he had laughed at the scholars inhis class, he was now conscious of his owninferiority to compete with the Westsiders. The boys on the West side wouldgo on to college, but for him . . .The skies to the North became lumin-(I’lcdHC turn to [‘ofje Klevctt)Page FourMADMAN’S TALEby Elder OlsonWhen the leaves were turned to silver and goldI went through the wood where the wind blew cold.When the boughs were glazed with a sheen like bloodI put on my cloak and I went through the wood.The frost smouldered on tree and stone:Not a twig nor a stem of grass but shone.All gold and silver the leaves were.And at nightfall I found my dear.She lay like light beneath the dark willow;Fallen leaves were her bed and pillowHer hair as leaves of gold was ruddy:Like leaves of silver blazed her body.And the light of her lit the leaf-strewn floorAnd the leaves: and I stood: I wept no moreAll silver and gold my lady was.As the leaves fallen upon the moss:As the leaves fallen from bough and spray.Silver and gold my lady lay:In truth I think no prince that may beHad ever so strange and proud a lady.Then I praised death, that had wrought this dustInto a metal bright as frost.Substance of snowflakes fallen from the starsAnd crystals of moons and meteors.Changing the stuff of a willow-petal.Cobweb-light, into precious metalAnd I took juniper and thymeAnd pine-boughs powdery with nmeAnd wove her a shroud of fern-leaves thereAnd kissed her eyes and covered herAnd still the glow of her limbs looked through.Cold as the moon, as frosty dew.As winter leaves, and I lay downAnd covered her body with my ownAnd even so at her side all night1 could not sleep for the strange light.COMMENTby JOHN P. BARDENEDUCATION PREFERRED: 1934O- ALL kinds of academic controversy,discussion about general educationis the most explosive. Its provoca¬tive nature probably explains why wewant to attack the problems of definition,administration, reason, and the desirabil¬ity of a general education What such aneducation is. how to get it. and what it isgood for are considerations that suggestthe subject of this article.Our general education will endow uswith an ability to think and a knowledgeof ideas Since we must spend the rest ofour lives thinking about something, weshould know how to think correctly. If welearn to think rationally perhaps we can.at times, cogitate to some advantage. Ra¬tional thinking implies a use of right rea¬son. and a use of right reason demands aknowledge of ideas, which is the secondrequirement of our general education Theability to rhink rationally and to compre¬hend concise useful ideas assumes a train¬ing in speculative thought But speculativethought IS apparently unknown to stu¬dents under the new planAbsence of speculative thought at a uni¬versity where a general education is ad¬ministered involves a peculiar contradic¬tion of terms A university is a communityof scholars Scholars are educated individ¬uals who understand the highest possi¬bilities of the human intellect General ed¬ucation connotes thinking about ideas andshould occur in the college of the univer¬sity Yet we are truly astounded to learnthat general education at the University ofChicago, and even more so at other seatsof learning avoids speculative thought; itis believed unproductive'Since fundamental principles of specu¬lative thought are self evident truths andthese truths are undeniable propositionswhich are relations of ideas, it will be ap¬parent why we are concerned with ideas.For the better comprehension of whatfollows we shall venture to define an ideaand a fact An idea is an abstraction of theintellect It should not be confused withan image which is a mental picture ofsome particular Ideas are always universaland immutable Facts, on the other hand,are sensory observations of external phe¬nomena in reference to a certain timeFacts in this sense are as immutable asideasTo question immutablity of ideas is ab¬surd Small minds like to think that theyare broad when they deny that anythingIS universal or true. Anti-intellectualistshave argued for the mutability of every¬thing, but always manage to reverse theargument by inconspicuous admission ofthe immutability of ideas in some obscurecorner. Pragmatist William James, admit¬ting that his basic idea of flux has been, is,and always will be unchangeable, says,"Concepts form one class of entities thatcannot change under any circumstances.Concerning, not immutability, but thevalue of abstraction itself, John Dewey be¬grudgingly admits. "Abstraction is theheart of thought. There is no other way tocontrol and enrich experience exceptthrough an intermediate flight of thoughtwith conception, relata, and abstraction.Returning to this matter of facts: em¬ phatically we do not deny the use andvalue of facts, in their proper place. Wemerely plead for emphasis of ideas in col¬leges where a general education is to beadministered. But there are further un¬fortunate misunderstandings to be clari¬fied.There is no arbitrary line of division be¬tween ideas and facts. There are manyconcepts and precepts which can be de¬fined as both and are therefore indefin¬able as either. We believe those indefin-ables which approach pure ideas are mostvaluable for general life, while those inde-finables which approach pure facts aremost useful for particular situations.Therefore, as our education progressesfrom general to divisional we shall expectthe fact content to grow. Experience withideas during our general education will en¬hance our understanding of the veritableblizzard of facts that descends upon usduring divisional work. Experience hasproved both facts and ideas, but ideas,having led to the greatest accomplish¬ments of human knowledge are the high¬est expression of human experience.Ideas are the distinguishing feature sepa¬rating man from animal. Believing thatanyone beyond sixteen years is capable ofassimilating a generalization without play¬ing games to drive it home, we intend tounderstand ideas vicariously by readingand discussing.Since we hold that ideas are the highestexpression of man's experience and thatthey are defined as abstractions of the in¬tellect, it seems logical to investigate theideas and propositions advanced by thegreatest intellects during the brief threethousand years of man’s written rational¬ity. This little fraternity of great intellectsIS ridiculously small. Some authorities listtwo hundred, others say the number isless than one hundred. Since the preemi¬nent greatness of about ninety of thesemen is undisputed, we survey the signific¬ance of their work.The writings of these men are calledclassics. If one were to read ninety ofthese classics successfully, one would haveacquired an understanding of the most in¬fluential ideas conceived by man from1000 B. C. to the present day. Since factsare meaningless until related by ideas,principles, propositions and theories, rea¬son leads us to desire an understanding ofideas as a prerequisite to our further edu¬cation If we cannot stand an exposure toideas, that demonstration will be ampleevidence that our education should halt. Ifthis disaster befalls us, we shall give upthe struggle and advance upon Wall Streetto sell bonds. Another reason why highereducation should begin with ideas is foundin the proved assertion that ideas arefewer than facts. Essences (ideas) ofthings, for example, include countless par¬ticulars, each of which is a fact. Even ifwe could learn all the facts man has everdiscovered we should understand nothingunless someone would relate for us withabstraction This is the work reserved forgenius.After reading the cream of the classicswe will want to talk about them. Readingcan easily become a sterile process, but • •discussion will force us to think throughideas and the understanding receivedtherefrom will become a part of us with¬out the formal process of memorization.Such a system would not ignore every cap¬ability of the intellect except the retentivepowers, an alarming principle which thenew plan shows symptoms of adopting.To lead discussions, mature minds whohave read the books several times are ourpreference. They should be prepared to de¬fend their own interpretations of the bookunder discussion, yet tolerate other inter¬pretations to the point of rationally recog¬nizing and opposing them. Argument isthe essence of such discussion. And howinteresting when two instructors discoverthey hold opposed views!Under the stimulus of such discussionwe would be obliged to follow logical linesof reasoning. The ability to follow logic orcriticize it is in direct proportion to theability to think. Anyone who cannot fol¬low reason throws himself open to any¬body’s criticism. Stubbornly adhering to anuntenable position calls for everybody’ssarcasm.Lectures once a week would be in order.On these occasions instructors who leaddiscussion might express their views oncontemporary intellectual opposition en¬countered by the author in question, otherworks of the author, or the relationship ofhis thought to that of other great thinkers.Lecturers would carefully avoid talkingabout the number of wives the author hador the political and economic situation inhis country during his lifetime.Examinations would be extremely diffi¬cult—for the examiners. They themselveswould need a complete knowledge of allof the books read by the classes. By oral ex¬amination the students’ mastery of the con¬tents in the several books could be tested;by written test their critical ability wouldbe exposed. This latter objective could beachieved by, say, presenting the studentwith a classical passage unfamiliar to himand requesting him to write one to twohundred words about it. The result is nota fit subject for speculation but undoubt¬edly would be enlightening to the exam¬iner and valuable to the examined.It is our contention that the modern as¬pect of man’s knowledge has no relation¬ship to general education. Translated intouniversity terminology, this means thatmost of what is taught under the nevv' planbiological, physical and social sciences isirrelevant to general education and belongsin the divisions, not in the college wherethe students are neophytes in thinking.Then, when these college graduates arriveat the divisions there would be real flashesof perspicacity caused by heat of frictionand light of enlightenment. They wouldsee the illogical relations and structures ofthe sciences and humanities, the chaos ofassorted departments, the futility of thepedant who aggregates facts, unrelated toideas, calling the process scientific. Theymight become scholars or they might dis¬continue their education, but they wouldassiduously avoid becoming pedants.Knowing that speculative thought is im¬portant in science as well as in philosophy,(Please tarn to Page Twelve)Page Five COMMENTfeWrVtTe.rs -3'■■a’Bi^ni’'''Cdil6£re -vdi'ftiw- .invl ‘tt/AKKre' df itsC>ifWs :a/s,'Al4.erltt'v.c .aq-'a tin-,.'... the htcah.n^ ^sc.'^wcc of k.u.v>l% r/oj'dv t-fc. do ahvt^ing? -TetM ’^4canife/rrt Vs'kit'ri ctetp I’crrei k’ot .wis'I'lhc tm rr^ ml^ if■'te^tl^K'^ *»' i!Qt 3’f fei 'i#te'i 'm . ' Immm a «« T^ wm ^*®» a* ^2s«86 te »a«am-' te fe Mmw ■€>f my^ m'0^m^ to^’iNp' m.s l«r ® (pirfi I* #^.eji fMm' -Ww5^ I- i'T',.r .et;r.,d#ps'€r a-Vv'ffe m te #f43iiiv -tt^-tidter ti® .pffi« *^#4 iM lit'pP«Wotfii(r§, #)'t iuil^fJt' Ifi^.^^lit te -U^h-% ^'K’lerv^ ;p©rif4 .^£t#.mm® W) i§fa gaal iB 'v>te t# t;#«i iL^i#%cw'iit'-bt^f3!^ fet#ni f'@T«m% n® ;k# @ Wpp it & ^pi^« te»m^ It.V#knij ©# tkf''S«'to(%^.' 'S^ff’i: ft-t r^y,f- )|rl="b®l&?4^ It ii^l «#il wmimmm Ste@vsfi^:, i>;L4' ka 's^h# d%^- itlf «> ii;f^,\|lIfera rf kc fe m -mTO .:tt 9^1 9t)’#^ 1^ %p^.".t^lg i««^terev 'MfO fes Il4s'v^fcgh, Ite ^t^yftecof #d *«t fe'ra^’ 1,^wm ^Jtor te fi§ii@ i?^-wi«©- .te -mm. ai%i «l« tody ,h#t -fefW' t^kaem hs> im^f\p^ i«te- #f fkg #4j4iW «f#5-m 1P»# ifc^N' te# ®fmm, m 'loitt ta mm^ rntmlir '«f »i'ud®h4. ■ ‘btt# w^th ate«fe m® iSw itw’tte^n. wsim ten- t4(sj««p f«f 1^tep, wir^ te «»it ^ tete' 4i^gp^r, arad fto ^t«#.©i9tte 'r«c:i;p«tenr, @! ill m a#adl- -fer «fei-«iri fw te ^dam « d«-g^©, TNsi kuman ®sr k^%R #Ite «©I« Itegtl^ti t»iWi^^tfa©fe®dv »4, m i^n tedyi-try. s,a al‘»C« etecatfen. te p^a^'ln® iJ» te kM.m«toiig, liii^ tkt k«»!' «(fi!g:\ ^ v" i >' \f.WfW ^ * , ,. ^ ' ' J"■ Y^' « 'wwn^AAIt 'i^ .tetf;^ « at. te ©# « ^mtlmk, tef dd. m#ntaiy ^-cteiir^5f 'te«g fp-adbiity 'few! 'sytafy At-^ a ti^wf. vil^i«if«wkfch t-hf bm^ 'b-f«^ will b» rtcognized'’’iii til® ^ te 1'n *^'t# te fwict^i,o#_ alll«f'st thf^, pfin;Cfpl'«» a Iff A«emibt©! 11tet Ik# ^/)^fiv« of ©dyc-ittftfT tf #i« dc«iw-t' ttto tg^i#^:of twbi««ts. 23- 'thtt Ptic# a'-ffi^’ent^Cit^«"i>i*^ ^'tkt w^if^''©f'te»wl»"-^i will te te,s^JtvJl7,^d.atte gepl ©f fducafiort is not to impart ■liijffti ^#is m ilt®. Oifi'lf m a 'v^Mi.®!'©rdsf' cm 1% rfft a*f c#m%Ft1^ ill mIty and wa^iBiis f^f ^hmgh imwlfiplfe-t!iiP«#i m ,p@Art« A h pm-f# u® at a oA-c'lten #f tiftgl®, s:©pi'.-. dwali^, ^ ^^iff* fk» ^Wtit«tf Ift, fnj-t#r:#l t-yf White i n^l■^e# Wilfli'®# _tesi is' wrothjfi tJn® t:pn®§„ tor unto# ©n« to©fww ifi all #ilt «wltl^teltf'no tw^tftAr ’|«. -fl^^ilt > but ttf-discrsat, if7i»ni«!|l.©» spyn-A &it fI # tmi -^„©#'if tk»i teth.# vvh©!.©. rn the co^®ciOys.n«fts a;l te:wk#te. And tkfi holds tip® #V'efyWh®re’tri > W 'N#slW|' l%y w^iTifisliRif iteMtoiife§ mii^ie* traw'^y p©r« fei»y■'ooffits #n msta^ # tto g<fnerai, g»§r^t -. p%bi.cf , or history ten amtekliWV'ln'art'tfe’if^®^ "'1]; fei tm^,m fttwrfiif-vF.;,'-5'*^^*^®® ^it^wf It al• thf §infte ®c;t k®c«n,e;s t-h® e>^pi'e^k)n ot ' 'mpo«‘bjg, for om l«tG'ffl§g«t m' tiiteod/ifl V^lfte» #!©’sii^te rn^ivid^r -" •ew^teng,.. ■•¥■’b^f^ te tit^fiy'-#'«»iki^ ^ . .kit 'mSoltiswithkn^lf^e W« divide 'ntelhionc^ .r«eH; The- mosi u^olflpnt;partiar te mJ; mif»ci»ncer-'artd hiyirtanttifs^ And Itose ire tflllggnc© ind te mftili'pnt ini.nd wkeai'ftiritliif ^y^cs*-c^wmfryt m «%!:’'astrewamy. kjf iti tetejphyiio%y. piy^olpgy, ftc, hiftory; ecp- 'h lov® wifhafen^'pof^-sud k'. te WiiOPp«»l€f, wW^y ^ tnut^ ^ tklt-li ^«rt^ n«r#it^‘ «f^ iftit ^raiti by liisliry. - Hliteftolly it wm 'all ihei« Bm b«t imt^es, pam ol c«® ' w“to1ild'd«i'raitatepos^s|«tp|fcfi#WUwm® te ^win^ilg«ttel’ wrth himsiff hi« world A% M'lrn&mfy, .. tH®y m itfiir^tod to ^gtivxt,then, t’to edocationil p^rocedur© mutt dial .■ riiear§h, white it was Invariably rt^st wh®;dlp«tlf-.wifh''te-p«^rtsk«-t^i'?f^'«-1:> mmt teir ^ ,!‘l«.flaL ,iat tli^ ^fts-'ftl li^ iiJ -fc »--mejniofJes® withoyf a vltiort of the whelt ; li^te-knowte^e we posstss todiy. Tk#yAnd It Is tWf vlflwiv tet •d»c«tten fells witli Ih# vlsi«i of ■gwfirt.^e,W eannot *en for fho tre« ,. th«m lo «elc Wofm^tfen, ar4 not inf«m.m, « the cmwn ^ to fh« «w. -.,' ^ ^ (ntoll.^f,,., .•lubWK.*,a.rfi6ufym ^ but.i».mM*^i,>,,^„,. •,,., •; ,, ,. tptmm^f^m 1^ mimmyvVSd'rA'O''^^:\. ‘ '.'I W ''I...- y- ; 'r,-y.::THE FORMULATIONOF A DILEMMA ....as related to FRITZ LEIBER, JR.by DR. ADOLPH WISCHMEIERCOMMENTThe University of ChicagoLiterary and Critical Quarterly92, Faculty ExchangeUNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOEditorCHARLES TYROLER, IIAssistant EditorE. KENDRICK PORTER, )r.Business BoardWILLIAM ALVIN PITCHER)OHN C. NEUKOMFRANCIS HOYTAssociate EditorsLILLIAN SCHOENMARTIN GARDNERFARRELL TOOMBS)OHN P. BARDENNo responsibility is assumed by the University ofChicago for any statements appearing m COMMENT,or for any contracts entered into by COMMENT.Publisher's AddressCLARKE-McELROY PUBLISHING CO6 MO Cottage Grove AvenueIndividual Copies Twenty-five CentsSponsor Subscription Fifty CentsA Sign ThatWe Have Met“Our aim is to represent the Universityof Chicago, as the University of Chicagorepresents the best in thought and artisticappreciation in the middle west , VVebar nothing that is good "Comment does not pretend to new andsensational ideas and ideals concerningUniversity literary and critical publica¬tions Our predecessor. The Circle, hasstated our aims in their opening editorial,the pregnant section of which we printabove The 1933 Comment barred nothingthat was good but it failed to represent theuniversity when it resorted to writers ofinternational significance, but with noUniversity connections, for the bulk of itscontent We have but two “foreign” con¬tributions in this issue and intend limitingthe number to two or three in all futureissues When Comment finds that it cannot publish a magazine representing thework of this campus, it will essay a grace¬ful exit We do not feel, however, thatan exit is inevitably in the offingThe M S submitted to Comment hasindicated to the editors that students havelargely disavowed pscudo-serious and fat¬alistic fiction and substituted in its placeconstructive critical essays. This is. wefeel, significant of a recrudescence of con¬structive faith built over and dwarfing thecrushed ruins of hollow disillusionment.If, as Comment’s previous editors sug¬gested, “The University is a literary des¬ert,” we cannot understand why theyfailed to see even mirages when we feelwe have found many fertile oases.Comment mourns the death of MelvinTraylor and the almost simultaneous mer¬ger dissolution With the bubble-burstingeffect of the merger we accuse North¬western of pettiness, a pettiness so smallthat when its broad-visioned leader,Traylor, was no longer alive to show it theway, it settled smugly and unseeingly backinto its little cave to education’s detri¬ment.C, T._E. K P. TO MY American friends and to allwhose line of thought unconsc usiyparallels mine. Greetings! Blessingsupon Lobatchewski, who demonstratedthat practically all lines are parallel any¬how, both the great and the small, “meineKinder,” In joyous Teutonic submission tothe categorical imperative, I lay aside mylife work of psychoanalyzing the norsegods by means of carefully constructedeidetic images and take up the pleasanttask of definitizing certain conceptual en¬tities militantly focalized at keypoint num¬ber seven in The Evolving Cosmos ofSuperthought; that is, at Chicago. Specific¬ally, I shall support Real Fact against idea,and Real Idea against fact. I am fitted forthis by my mastery of all branches ofknowledge, but especially by my power ofUnderstanding in the Mode of Unsynthe¬sised Contradiction, a method fully knownonly to the Wischmeier family.'.—IDEAS ABOUT FACTS: a speculativeprolegomenonFirst we postulate that a fact is an im¬mutable ineluctability, not to be arrived atby any ordinary apperceptive methods. The“human” mentality can only know sensa¬tions and memory images of sensations,which are, according to your great Hume,universals and therefore ’’ideas”. (Thehumanity of a certain few mentalities,such as those in my family, is in desirabledoubt). Therefore it is thrust upon us menof the Wee Sma’ Hours of Western Cul¬ture to attain to brute fact because of theImperitive Impenetrability, though theactualization of this purpose (say, by thework of Allswert Wischmeier) will plungeSuperthought once more into The GreatComa.In order to understand this inevitableprocess we must consider the Mechanismof Fact-mysticism by postulating that be¬cause a fact is logically and empirically un¬knowable it must, “for that very reason,”be discovered This statement should becarefully remembered since, in Part II, itwill be systematically denied in all its as¬pects, in strict accordance with Categor¬ical Obligation 69 (see Herman Wisch¬meier, The Philosophy of Absolute Error).Fortunately the whole scientific move¬ment is a groping toward Fact mysticismthat is rapidly outgrowing the CowardHope of Tentative Comprehension. Eventoday one (or two, possibly three) canoutline the Four Stages in the Approach tothe Fact. The first is that of Furious Cir-cumambulation; the neophyte knows thatthere are facts, but cannot break the netof ideas (brahmah). The second is that ofIsolation Absolute; the neophyte findshimself cut off both from ideas and facts.Being aware of nothing, he is in this plasein some slight danger of forgetting wherehe is going; this is the Fallacy of Inade¬quate Continuity and must be carefullyguarded against. Indeed, it is recom¬mended that at this point the seeker with¬out interruption derive Maxwell’s equa¬tions backwards in an ever-quickening tempo. The third stage is that ofIntrusion Gigantic; it is dimly feltwhen one glances down spectroscopetubes, or at gage needles, or makes a dis¬section; in it the neophyte becomes acute¬ly aware of the Fact, of the Power of theFact, and of himself as distinct from andunworthy of the Fact. The fourth stage isthat of Complete Union; the neophyte be¬comes one with the Fact and is no longera neophyte. His own human ego vanishes,or to put it more precisely, becomes PureFact. Even today there are some advancedpeople who have existed as facts and asnothing else for years. Since the union iscomplete, if the ego does not become onewith the Fact, then the fact must becomeone with the Living Ego; this latter is theIdealist Fallacy of Indecent Vivification.II FACTS ABOUT IDEAS; the metaphys-ist manifestoActuality is a buzzing multiplicity ofsimple, particular facts, the relations be¬tween which and the statements of whichare equally facts. Facts are commonlyknown as matter, are matter, and nothingelse matters. They are all the human mindcan know according to your most praise¬worthy Mill. Ansbach Wischmeier once satfor seven years in an igloo trying to dis¬cover at least one idea; one hesitates tomake further attempt where such a manhas failed. Human minds and ideas are onlythe dancing, opalescent surface of theaforementioned multiplicity. When weunderstand completely the electronicforces that play around and about the topend. of the human being, we will havemade the final reduction of ‘idea’ to fact(see Ortwort Wischmeier, The QuantumRythms of Conceptual Thought, with noteson a new technique of excising and dis¬secting mystical experiences; The Wisch¬meier Supplement, no. 2,915).’’Consciousness,” as differing fromatom-built fact, is the form that evil takesin the universe, and is, as evil always is,entirely illusory. Western man must nowturn himself to the task of its abolition.There must be no quarter given. The fightmust be carried on in each of our mindsas well as in the external world. We must“act” and not think first. A good begin¬ning has been made; as a healthy bodylocalizes disease germs, so thought hasbeen finally restricted to the human brain;the rest of matter has been purged of‘mentality’ and ‘spirit’. But now the soremust be squeezed clean! This is the workfacing the true ‘doctor-men’ of our era.However, in order to insert the keystoneof this contention I must have recourse tothat most delicate of instrumentations.Manifesto-counterpoint. When only factremains in the universe then will arise theClimactic Formulation of Truth in theMode of Irresistable Error. This Truth willproclaim that fact is brutal, irreducible,and indescribable, a blemish on theAbsolute, the sole flaw of spirit. RealIdeas will have to be wiped off, freediPh'dse turn to Page Klem a)Page Seven COMMENTSHERIDANIANA hy GEOKGE T. VAN l>liK HOEKIT IS perhaps a commeritary upon thecallousness of the twentieth centurythat after a lapse of one hundred andfifty-nine years, a love letter written byElizabeth Linley to Richard Brinsley Sheri¬dan is published for the first time. Certain¬ly it is notorious that during the nine¬teenth century it was frequently con¬sidered bad taste to expose to the public’seye the intimate correspondence of thedeparted great. For this reason much ofthe Charles Dickens’ correspondence re¬mains unpublished in the archives of theBritish Museum and the Carlyle corre¬spondence has been severely edited. Buttoday, perhaps as the direct result of thescientific approach to literature, as well asto everything else, it is realized that allavailable material concerning the celebri¬ties of the past must be known before wecan hope to form an accurate judgementconcerning their personalities. Yet tracesof the nineteenth century ethics remain,and it is therefore with the mixed feelingsof lack of propriety opposed to the senseof duty that this letter is made public.Of the many scintillating stars of theclosing decades of the eighteenth century.Richard Brinsley was one of the brightestBut we are concerned here with the ap¬prentice days of the future playwright,gallant, and politician. Concerned, morespecifically, with the year 1772. whenSheridan at the age of twenty-one. freshfrom Harrow, fell in love with ElizabethLinley. the sixteen year old oratorio singerof Bath. Miss Linley was the daughter ofthe composer Thomas Linley and was con¬sidered one of the most beautiful womenin England. It was at this time thatThomas Gainsborough used her as themodel for his “Saint Cecelia at the Or¬gan” The Sheridan-Linley romance beganunder the most unauspicious circum¬stances. for her family were violently op¬posed to the future secretary of the treas¬ury. Furthermore, there were two othersuitors suing for her hand. N. B. Halhed.a close friend of Sheridan’s and a certainMajor Mathews. In order to escape the un¬welcome attentions of Major Mathews,and probably because she was in love withSheridan. Elizabeth Linley. accompaniedby Sheridan, fled to a nunnery in France.During the course of the flight they weresecretly married. Leaving his wife inFisher . . .(Contiuned frutn Pnye TliretAket down by the railroad. It was quite anold dog, with brown spots and blue eyes.Charlie paid Mr. Milutich ten dollars.“Why. Charlie!’’ said people when theysaw him on the street. “Now whatever doyou want that old dog for?”Charlie’s mouth twisted up and his eyeslooked across the street. “I always likedhim,” he said.“But why don’t you buy a puppy?”“My mother wouldn’t let rne have apuppy,” said Charlie. “But I like Spottie.He’s a nice dog.”He carried fish wrapped up in his pock¬et, to feed his new friend. He would takeSpottie with him when he went to therestaurant, and Spottie would lie and moon FROM MY BEDhy Eli'.ahvth Linh ii Shcridu iifrom my lUd Sinidoy f—O (lockI am this moment waked from dreamiuy otmy dearest Horatio—/ was resolved not to missthe Post wliieh yoes ont at )iine o Cloek as itdoes not yo ayain before Tuesday—my handtrembles so I ean searee hold my Pen and noth-iny bat the thoayht that 1 am writiny to yoneonid keep me from falliny aslee/) over the l‘a)» •—yon may imayine my Journey ivas not veryayreeable—/ never s})oke to Mr. P.—bat jast a)'es or So to answer his <iaestions irhieh a'vresometimes impertinent enonyh he eomplainedof my silence and said he a'as sare / should notbe so dnil if my Dear Mr. Sheridan was u'ithme—my (uiswer was—very likely (/ was vi x dat his impertinence—) besides / eonid not helpmakiny some eomixirisons not at all favorableto my ayreeable eompanion Yon knon I hadbien in snrh a vehicle beUire—yon wont be snr-pri.-<rd then at my beiny ont of Temper whenyon consider the Difference of my situation Oh,my dearest Horatio with yon / eonid be happyin a di sert—-yonr Love, lovi' would make anysituation a Paradise to mi / have alreadymade some Kni/niries about a proper place tomeet yon in ~bnt have not yet ti.red anythin;/hoiei ver / have yreat hofies that I shall contriveit without any danyer of a Discovery I havenot seen .Miss J. (',. I intend ealliny on herafti r Hreakfast—how she will receive me I donot know / find she is yoiny to be married to.\lr. Ibiisford of Wells - iis that is the ease Ishall yive over all thonyhs of trnstiny her {leith^anyth iny as I have no inclination tor .Mr. P. tobe let into my secrets—keeji yonr /iromise andirrite to me immediately yon see how faithtnily/ have kept mine the Post yoes ont Snndai/Tuesday and Thursday I shall lerite every I\>stand / e.rjnet yon to do the same. On eontrav/days I shall hear from yon therefore before In ritr oyain--(lod Hless yon my Dear HoratioI ii'ill noiv try to recover my dream as that istill only tinny that ean yive me pleasure atpresent Continne to love me and it is impossiblethat my sent intents should i ver ehanye. / needniif soy how dear yon are to the heart of yoarKUza —To Mr. R. SheridanTo be left until called for.\ote :The spelliny and pa net not ion in the above antra ascribed directly from the oriyinal letter.at his feet and dream respectable old dog’sdreams. He was very dignified, for a dog,especially for one with brown spots allover him.Then Charlie bought a motorcycle.The citizens of the town would hear aterrible thundering sound, and then a redthing would go by, bumping and snorting.That was Charlie. His soft body quivered,his fat shoulders shook, the breezewhistled through his grey hair. There wasno time to ask him why.Perhaps it was logical that Charlieshould next be seen eating chicken cro¬quettes with white sauce across the tabicfrom Nellie Swain, and looking with softlooks under her hat. They ate in McCabe’srestaurant, down by the depot. Where elsewould an orphaned bachelor and a queer France, Sheridan returned and fought twoduels with Mathews, (the basis for “TheRivals! which, because of the notorietythey received, only prejudiced her familythe more against him. Upon Elizabeth Lin-ley’s return to England, Sheridan was de¬nied access to her. and her father sent herto their country estate. In the followingyear Sheridan entered the Middle Templeand a week later was openly married toher.The letter, here published for the firsttime, was apparently written in 1772 afterElizabeth Linley's return to England andduring the period she spent at the family'scountry seat As professor Tom PeeteCross has remarked, the letter is altogethercharming in its simplicity and sincerity,and IS an example of what Mr. Cross ob¬serves frequently is the case in eighteenthcentury correspondence, the freshness andvitality of the letters of women as com¬pared to those of the men of the period.As the letter itself states, it is the first theyoung bride has written to her secret hus¬band since her exile Of its many humanpoints, the heading “from my bed" notonly corresponds to similar headings of theperiod, but. as professor Sherburn pointsout, IS eloquent testimony that living con¬ditions have changed little since theeighteenth century, as even today onemust often stay abed during the coldmonths if one is to be at all comfortablein the average English household Butaside from facetious comparisons, the realsignificance of the letter lies in the factthat It fills an important gap in the knowndocuments concerning Sheridan That sheIS making arrangements for a secret placeto meet him in shows that during theperiod of separation her family was not en¬tirely successful in keeping them apartHowever, aside from the biographicalimportance of the letter in supplying a val¬uable document as to Elizabeth Linley’ssituation and sentiments at this period, tomost people it would seem that the realvalue of the letter lies in its intangible,humane qualities; the charming, enthusi¬astic simplicity with which this girl ad¬dresses her lover after over a century anda half, bridges the span of years to give usa glimpse of a fleeting moment of romancein the age of reason.old lady eat if not at McCabe’s. The foodtasted like cellulose and warm water. Soupa la McCabe had a film like the greenmantle of the standing pool. For salad, Mc¬Cabe’s provided wrinkled lettuce moist¬ened with something heavy and gluteous.Dessert was the sticky residue of somefruit, in which the spoon stuck. Charlesand Nellie lingered over their coffee.Nellie had a way of treating her foodlike a toy. She nudged it, she took hermouth by surprise. She always held herlittle finger up. She would daintily sever afragment of cutlet and offer it betweentwo fingers to Charlie’s friend under thetable and they were three friends then.It looked like a romance. The waiterwinked at the cashier. People glanced in as(Please tarn to Paye Ten)COMMENT Page EightHENRY B. FULLER-OBSCURE IMMORTALA PERSONAL REMINISCENCE by PERCY HOLMES BOYNTONI AM in no position to write as an oldfriend of Henry B, Fuller. My contactswere of the slightest and on the wholewere totally different from those of hisreal intimates, because I saw in him onlyan extremely quiet, retiring, self-effacing,impersonal figure, and all the records showthat to those who knew him he was mostvivacious and, when his fancy was re¬leased, an extraordinarily generous andfriendly person.My memories of him gather around alarge number of glimpses of a short, ratherdumpy. totally undistinguished-lookingvisitor to the campus or passer across it.I have wondered since whether he didn’talmost assume undistinction and enjoy akind of anonymity Most frequently hecaught my eye m audiences at Universitylectures not the lectures of headliners butusually of men of a kind of distinction ofmind which attracted the discriminatingand failed to draw large crowds. SometimesI looked forward to a greeting after thelectures, only to find that he had disap¬peared as the applause was subsiding As Isaw him making his way across the campusI suspected him of being on the way to orfrom the studios of Lorado Taft, our col¬league and neighbor on the other side ofthe Midway. Lonido TaftFULLER I have wondered, too, whether he maynot have derived a quiet amusement in thefact that somehow or other I early got theidea that he was deaf and invariably roaredat him when I did speak. After twentyyears of this we were present together ata meeting of the Cercle Francaise at whichI remembered Regis Michaud made an ad¬dress in French to which he and I weresupposed to respond. And I recall myamazement at his brief remarks whichshowed he had caught every nuance of thelecture. It was ridiculous of me, of course—for a deaf man wouldn’t have been sucha frequenter of lectures.This self-effacement of his is empha¬sized in two familiar memories of him. Hesupplied through the title of his book aname for the Cliff Dwellers Club but re¬sisted all the persuasions of his friends tojoin the organization, not being what Dr.johnson called “a clubable man.” And hekept his private address a secret so thateven when his closest friends walkedhomeward with him he invariably dis¬missed them before he came to his door.I have never known a man whose looksand manners so masked the lively vitalityof his mind, but I have said enough toshow that I really didn’t know him at all.h'ilitin's ; Mr. Suhiii/ Slack-lrr'x article on //A’.V/i'Y F!' Ll.K R: HIS I'RFf'KRT .W1) l‘RA('TI('F a'ill a/tpcar in the Spt'iny is^ac of COM MEST.The Demand-for good “homey” foodseems always to exceedthe supply. However,we re doing our bit toequalize the matter byenlarging our main flooispace to serve twice asmany University people.We invite your inspec¬tion any time. Special 209r discount on all work tostudentsLaundering done on premisesWRIGHT HAND LAUNDRY1315 East 57 th StreetMidway 2073 You are cordially invited tovisit the campuses newest tearoom and gift shop—The UniversityWomen’s Exchange5654 Kenwood Avenue- — - -THE BARBERSHOP LUNCHEON - TEA - DINNERGreen We specialize in men’s and ladies’haircuts1 ShutterPea Shop Come in and give us a trialWe solicit University patronage"The German Short Plump” The Exchange is run forthe benefit of5650 Kenwood Avc.“Ifr’s Different ' S. ONSCHUK1329 East 57th Street THE BETHLEHEM DAYNURSERYPage Nine COMMENT<ilr|•>'. ’'ni->‘Tv ;''■* *„■-,' \' '.1 ' f. jvI'lIiJ^’T^JijFf'"' >-Vi»T‘i'/ . '"ifi ''\;^’Vfcr*^WKfV,'' Ipa^4 1^ &%* P»i # ^ te ^ ^fcj^M irfelsi^45!l!luWfl!w ■^K^^SsntfS? tSMi ffi^tflilfej 15vSsJ^ uRjnw^tv vw^I^*& w4H9w t!fi!S@)KnM©5sssfiar^5? iff^ jy>.i<iK^ (0 Cy•wfc’^A '/^^H^WdM^VrOl^ *tSlMiSili'\,,%miMm$ iite ‘@W»I«I M§‘Ams m- ‘ttM'ii! ^ i^itSii^ >i^^} i» 9-!^i^i ti^i^ ■ft'^-tfT%^ iWss^? OT@&f" [i^m^ ,!#“%■, /’fe #»li#r‘/#f ,A@tt^ 9m. ■ ^A,.--!-j^f flemm. itm.^ ’f ltePMte'^’d llltit Si# mm'^: ^^rtmlf^ ^ ikift, M'fs. ^tl®r»i.«ytt“Si#'' '*'' ^ '■-■•-' - '■’ '.;'' :isft't ^ ^ ‘'^i:^ti«.f'r ^ ^w«iie If i iifei wi--:¥®t! ^ Wife Rte 1^ Inr't^lW«^#l/"- -' -^' ■ •,-•■ - -h'} V V ^tuilaaBjIiSit^ -,p|j«iyM^.^||'|3i|.j^ ''^^.■^ ir-^_j=^iCT_'Tf^lB iiif*i |f^;pa^^j;-q»_ ^ * ‘ '‘,'^: .-1 mmim '^m m fe' ® P>^■ »Ww w!« ^^Pn, ip® l!Wf& l^fl^f^P? fiSK®• wlp fiW Ihw^ Ip nm ^m<y.. rl@^.:;'«! 'iii», ii i#^f' ' - ‘ :■:>-,N@lli@ Irtai'pli^/'iir^^wmmmu. WW It'-li,w^t Wm a #frr“ ^’#; Wte mri ilfelt pw#iir. i«fey ^ ^p^ ^It;! 'm&mm in# m mm*t Ir .■©f.ifeaf tA^ w^-«riH^ilaSMiliiiiiMS'COWWiMt:l^jgiifWssS5S#?|S!^sl?feS|:S^siiff|S;||||s|j!|5|§|-;@fe3s^s^iW-^'Is^L.ils-ifi.^ ''i* .^5fc'<4' /y ''!*-«■ H#J}‘,'L.’'^.y^' ,'.„'-.j «- * -»-> ’•> JO-ij;!rt»^i..t^.'Vj.l. . s ,•. . *<-j .-ui. * • • .r- . • 1 -I’ll have another bit of that nice cake. TheLadies’ Aid doesn’t get any better.”Nellie gave her another piece of Mr.McCabe’s Yellow Beauty Special. Shereally did look old enough to be a motherto anyone. She had stopped sewing, and satstill. She forgot to keep her little fingerraised when she cut the cake, and theknife dropped twice from her hand.“Yes, that's how it is,” said Mrs. Pet-terson ‘Well. I suppose you are troubledby lots of noise here, on Main Street andall. You'd think those boys would findsome other place to hang around nights.You must find it hard to sleep. Well, it’snice to be in the center of things whereyou can hear what's going on And con¬venient to the restaurant too. Nice din¬ners Mr, McCabe serves, aren’t they^ Didhe make this cake^ Well, I wouldn't haveknown' I wouldn’t have believed it camefrom a store No thank you, I guess Iwon t have ariy more I really must be go¬ing My boys are a lot of trouble thesedays, with school out and nothing to dobut hang around the house when theyaren't at the Pharmacy with those good-for nothing loafers I really don't knowwhat to do with them Well. I've had alovely time ”Nellie said goodby very politely, hold¬ing the door open for her. and afterwardsshe listened as Mrs Petterson went heavilydown tlie stairs.That night she did not go out to dinner.But she saw Charlie go The boys downunder the electric sign whistled after h'rn,and one of them cried. Hey. where s littleNellie^”The next night she also stayed in untilshe saw Charlie go out. and then she wentdown to tfie Pharntacy and bought somesandwiches.The night after that she waited untilCliarlie came stealing in. looking round asthough afraid to see anybody who might bethere He niounted the stairs so softly shedid not even hear him go past her door.Thien she went out to McCabes, walking cjuickly piist the snickering boys, pre-tendifig not to see them Mr. McCabe pro-vidctl a dinrier of spare ribs that evening,with dumf.dmgs and grey potatoes.Before two weeks had passed peoplenoticed them taking their dinner at separate tables. Nellie would sit with her backto the room, eating delicately and holdingher little finger up She would be surprisedwhen she saw Charlie And he, looking softand warm, with the old dog at his heels,would tip his liat as he went by. He wouldeven stop and talk a minute "Well, guessI’ll be getting along," he would say.’’Won’t keep you from your dinner."Oh, I’m sorry I'm not finished, ” Nelliewould say ”1 haven't finished mychicken”Charlie would go tiptoeing out withSpottie after him, whining because of hisrheumat ismThat autumn the old dog died, andCharlie went walking alone He seemed tohave lost interest in his motorcycle too.One of the Pharmacy boys made a dealWith him “Thought you might be wantingto sell, Mr. Bly,” he said. “If you re willingto talk business, I can make it worth yourwhile. ”So Charlie roared and thundered nomore through the streets of the town. Itwas getting colder, and snow was coming soon. He took to spending his days rakingthe leaves off the lawn of his mother’s oldhouse, and tinkering round the woodshed.One day in November he moved back in.The neighbors heard him pulling tne nailsout of the window frames.“Well!” they cried. “Back again, Char¬lie!”“Yes, mam,” Charlie answered, smilinghis soft foolish smile.“Well, its nice to see you back again,Charlie, they said. And it was not longbefore it seemed as if he had never beenaway. When he and Nellie met on thestreet she would nod and hurry on, and hewould tip his hat politely.Sometimes still the neighbors wouldpoint them out and make a remark or two,but generally the town had lost its interestin them. They were amusing, though:Charlie with his aimless, friendly smile andhis little trotting legs, and Nellie in her oldfamiliar coat and hat, still decorated withlast spring’s flowers.Lei her . . .{('outiiiiicd from i'oye Seritnof the dust of particularity. This isthe duty of the dustmen’, tfie glisteningheroes of the Last Act of Occidental Civil¬ization. And when they have sufficientlypolished the Sublime Nonentity, the cur¬tain (karma) will fall on the MuseumScene, and Superthougfit will nod once andbe still (except possibly for a few chanceWischmeiers).All this is beautifully illustrated by thestory related to me bv Worsted Wisch-meicr when hypnotized into a perfectsemblance of the divinity Thor, of howThe Elder Cods sent two of their numberover the edge of the ultimate with twincaskets of indefinite size in which to bringback the two most valuable treasures ofthe godlings. In after-eons they returned,one with a major premise, the other witha guinea pig. Yet not even The Great Onecould tell what the meanings of these ob¬jects were, or even which was which.The debate still goes on, and from the nos¬trils of The Elder Cods crackle eternallythe lambent blue flames that are theirthoughts. (Here my account breaks off.Dr. 'vVischmeier went suddenly rigid andspoke automatically of most importantthings for sixteen hours, but unfortunatelyin a perverted form of Sanskrit that baffledthe wiliest of his trance-stenographers. Byway of supplement I should like to offertfie profound illustrations produced by thebody of Wieviel Wischmeier, while hissoul was supposedly cavorting in the sev¬enth dimension of hyper-space).{'(loiioii for pictorc of ulr<i: (upper Irionijli ).til Uleii in the most roriohle and Kiisiire tinnyin 'the nnirersn. M'r nnderstnnd the nnirers<‘ hymenus ot idens.('nptit n for pietnre of Inet: (loiver trmnyh ).t fnet is somethiny that eon he interpreted innime.st ony fashion. H’c hnoie the nniversr hy))i<(tns of taets. Hyman ...(Continued from Paye Four)ous with green and yellow as the millsreleased their gasses after a turn. On thestreet below a wave of women, as if bycommon agreement rose and returned totheir homes to prepare their husband’slunches. Down on the street corner thecrowd was dispersing as the men returnedto their homes to pick up those lunches.Their laughter had ceased and their lipswere sealed in the suppression of the painthat would soon be upon them. Even theMarawana joint across the street wasbecoming depopulated as one by one themen, wild eyed and leering, left the shopto prepare for their return to work on rhetwelve o’clock night shift. Even Mara-wana’s—dope—could not smooth over in¬grained habit. Like the insects that ap¬pear from nowhere to swarm about asource of light, men who had slept untilthe last possible moment, emerged fromthe doorways. To the North they walked.Four abreast. Three abreast. All silent.With their knees bent like the curve of aboomerang, the men shuffled to theNorth. The mill is the cardiac center ofthe city and Adams Street is its mainartery. In a short time the boy in the win¬dow would be swept up in this flow.But maybe he’d become a foreman—aboss. Then the West side for him. Theidea was pleasant to the boy and his mindwandered in the development of this idealworld that might be. To interrupt thesemusings, there passed beneath the boy’swindow at that moment Al jackson andthe boy’s eyes surveyed him intently as hepassed, for jackson’s great high schoolcareer of three years back had alwaysshadowed his own—In the dim reflectedlight of the Creek coffee shop the boycould see jackson’s blood shot sunkeneyes and the brown splotches on his cheekbones which the boy knew were toastedthere by the mill fires, jackson’s blueshirt seemed to waver as from hunger forthe flesh and sinews that formerly hadcovered a massive frame, now withered,bent, and staggering to the North.There’s nothing much a fellow could doabout it but go to bed. Tomorrow he’dhave to start in at the mills.To the North where the mills flankedthe lake, the sky of the summer nightappeared to the boy like an interminableplate of dirty copper. The copper, the boywould have with him forever, but abovethe boy the moon shone like a silver plateimbedded in a flowered wall.Schoen , . .(('ontinned from Faye Sir)The problem of education comes therito this: an institution so organized, sostaffed and so equipped, as to give the stu¬dent a vision of knowledge in its totalityand in its human significance. Once thestudent catches even a glimmer of such avision he will do the rest eagerly, usingteachers, laboratories, libraries and class¬rooms as the food with which to still hishunger.Page Eleven COMMENTBardenThree minutes from campusYou’ll find a new restaurantyou’re bound to enjoy. Falk’sfeature fresh pastries bakedin their own kitchens andserved in delightful surround¬ings. You’ll find popularlypriced meals from extensivemenus, offered daily. Againwe say you’ll enjoy Falk’s.You are invited to investigateFalk’s special services andmenus for group parties.Falk’sRestaurantandBakery1449 East 57th Street {Continued from Page Five)they would entertain as healthy a scornfor anti-intellectualists as for pedants, whoare indistinguishable.The new plan, if we may venture suchtraitorous statements, is anti-intellectual.It is devoted to administering bits of prac¬tical information. The humanities courseattempts to account for man’s intellectbut gets mired in historical exposition. Op¬tional readings under the new plan are notincluded in this denunciation — exceptthat they are extremely optional!The type of education we are trying toadvocate has been found plausible in the¬ory and practice. 1 hose students who arefortunate enough to have experienced itare fit for many evenings of conversationconcerning topics other than football, lightwines and campus political strategy. Thenew plan student, after the first evening,is likely to cry in his beer about conferencechampionships, rather than attempt tojustify his presence at the university.Admitting that any educational systemdepends upon the caliber of intellect andpersonality possessed by its instructorsdoes not decry the value of the systemOur plan, whose first exponent was Socra¬tes, allows plentiful latitude for expressionof intellect and personality by instructorand by student The college we are advo¬cating would be unique: it would assumethat education is a philosophy, not a sci¬ence.Have You VisitedREX PETTY’SCAMPUSBARBER SHOP1334 East 57th StreetVARSITY TAILOR1331 East 57th StreetSuits to orde r—$22.50 upOne day service for cleaningand pressing“Give it to jake”Keep in Touch With Thingsby readingTHE DAILY MAROON2c per copy $2.50 per year International House andRenaissance SocietypresentsMar 12 & 13—-Berkeley Square (inEnglish)20—Kameradschaf t (inGerman)26 & 27- Primavera en Otona(in Spanish)Admission25 cents at 4:3035 cents at 8:30In April and May severaloutstanding French andGerman films v^ill be shownfor the first time in Chicago.Oberg*s1461 East 57th StreetThe South Side’s Favorite FloristSWISHER’S BOOK STALL‘The Little Shop Around the Corner”Books bought and sold - Rental Library6248 Ellis Avenue CORSAGESPLANTS FLOWERS ForLUNCHEONandDINNERTHEA\AID-RITEGRILL1309 E. 57rh StreetOfferingSPECIAL STUDENTSLUNCHEONSat 25c and 35cSpecial Steak, Chicken and jTurkey Dinners, iDAILY and SUNDAYS50cNot a CafeteriaPrompt, Courteous ServiceTHEA^AID-RITESANDWICH SHOP1320 E. 57th St.Open Until 2AMOffering—Club Breakfasts, 15c to 30cStudent Luncheons.25c and 35cSpecial Steak Dinners.40c and 50cStudents Rendexvous from7 A. M. till 2 A. M.Pure Filtered Water that youappreciate.A superior sort of personal serv¬ice that you’ll enjoy.An informal, yet refined atmos¬phere especially adapted to ourUniversity clientele.Delivery service from the Sand¬wich Shop from 6 p. m. to mid-nite.NOT A CAFETERIABooth, Counter and Table ServiceTHEMAID-RITESHOPS1309-1320 E. 57th St.Just Two Blocks East of Mandel HallCOMMENT Page TwelveCOMMENTThe University of Chicago Literary and Critical QuarterlyVolume 2 Number 2 Spring Quarter, 1934 Price Twenty-five CentsTHE HIGHER LEARNING IN AMERICAThe note that recurs most often inThomas jefferson’s writings is his in¬sistence on the importance of educa¬tion The reason for this was of courseprincipally political He was a democratHe had to prove that the people could op¬erate their institutions He had to supplysome method by which the poor mightmeet the rich on equal terms and the slow-witted protect themselves against theirmore intelligent but perhaps less scrupu¬lous compatriots The doctrine of equalityof opportunity was meaningless if knowl¬edge was to be a monopoly of the fewThat doctrine was to rest on universal com¬prehension and individual leadership Thecommon schools were to provide the first,the universities were to develop the latterSo Jefferson wrote in 1818, “A systemof general instruction, which shall reachevery description of our citizens, from therichest to the poorest, as it was the earliest,so will It be the latest, of all the publicconcerns in which I shall permit myself totake an interest ’’ Again he said, “Educa¬tion generates habits of application, of or¬der, and the love of virtue, and controls bythe force of habit, any innate obliquities inour moral organization What, but edu¬cation, has advanced us beyond the condition of our indigenous neighbors^ Normust we omit to mention among the bene¬fits of education, the incalculable advantage of training up able counselors to ad¬minister the affairs of our country in all itsdepartments . ; nothing more than cducation advancing the prosperity, the power,and the happiness of a nation “ In 1816he wrote, “Although I do not. with someenthusiasts, believe that the human condi¬tion will ever advance to such a state ofperfection as that there shall no longer bepain or vice in the world, yet I believe itsusceptible of much improvement, andmost of all in matters of government andreligion, and that the diffusion of knowl¬edge among the people is to be the instru¬ment by which it is to be effected ’’ Againin 1818 he said, “If the condition of man isto be progressively ameliorated, as wefondly hope and believe, education is to bethe chief instrument in effecting it “ Hisobject, he said, was to “give activity to amass of mind, which, in proportion to ourpopulation shall be double or treble of whatit is in most countries “To give double or treble activity to thismass of mind he did more than any otherstatesman to advance the cause of publiceducation, and left as his greatest monu¬ment a historic university, “the pride andidol of his old age.” To ensure the domi¬nance of the educated he proposed an edu¬cational qualification for the suffrage. A A paper concerning Jefferson, democracy and educationby ROBERT MAYNARD HUTCHINSdelivered as an address at The University of Virginia on theoccasion of Founder's dayMdude HutchinsCHARCOAL PORTRAITconfirmed devotee of states' rights, nenevertheless advocated, as President, Fed¬eral aid to the public schools through fundsacquired by duties on luxuries. He pro¬vided the basis for the tremendous struc¬ture of public education to which we havegrown accustomed; he supplied the reasonswhich support it; he first employed the slo¬gans which are still used to justify it.Because of the impetus given us by theideas and language of jefferson we havetoday a system of popular education whichis the wonder, if not the admiration, of theworld. It is extensive. It is free. It iselaborate. It is costly. In these respectsit exceeds the most highly colored ofThomas jefferson’s dreams We haveeverything he wanted and a great dealmere. But I think no one will deny thatdemocracy is in a worse plight than it wasbefore jefferson began to labor in its be¬half. We should hardly today be ready tosay that education has corrected any innateobliquities in our moral organization orthat because of it we had advanced beyondthe condition of our indigenous neighbors,or that through it we had trained up ablecounselors to administer the affairs of ourcountry; and an educational qualificationtor the suffrage would seem to us a mean¬ingless addition to the multiplicity of ourlaws.How (_an this bei^ Why is it that we nolonger feel that naive confidence in educa¬tion which was natural to jeffersonr’ Whyis it that the blessing of universal enlight¬enment has not produced the results thatseemed inevitable to him^ I propose toshow that education has failed to fulfil thehopes jefferson had of it in the first placebecause we have not followed him wherewe should have done so.As to the organization, methods, andscope of education jefferson’s views weresound when they were expressed and aresound today. The trouble is that we havenot adhered to them The great democratunderstood very well that the same kind ofeducation is not equally desirable foreverybody. He divided the community in¬to the laboring and the learned and pro¬vided a different type of education for eachgroup. He knev/ that some adolescentsought to go to work while others were con¬tinuing their education. It would haveseemed to him fantastic that all studentsshould pursue the same course of study upto their twentieth year. His letter toPeter Carr in 1814 stated the basis of theBill for Establishing a System of PublicEducation which he drew in 1817. Hewrote to Carr: “At the discharging of thepupils from the elementary schools, (afterthree years of schooling) the two classesseparate—those destined for labor will en¬gage in the business of agriculture, or enterinto apprenticeships to such handicraft artas may be their choice; their companions,destined to the pursuits of science, willproceed to the College. ...”It would have seemed to him equallyfantastic that a pupil might educate him¬self indefinitely at public expense merelyby minimizing his stupidity or misconduct.He would have seen little merit in grantingsuch an individual a bachelor’s degree be¬cause he had been around a long time, hadmemorized some things he had beentaught, and had resorted only to the lessnoisy and noticeable vices. The rigid sys¬tem of selection which he proposed from1779 to 1817 was carefully designed to ONE FELT HAThjf JattH'ii li. KiiigluimLL this happened when I was quiteyoung.Cooper was a plump English sports¬man; Paul, a Eurasian who lived and fishedwith the Indians.The sky was clear. The ocean reflectedthe sun with metallic harshness. Therewas no shade in the big. open, native boatCooper—in his dashingly-cut sport shirt,white flannels, smart black and whiteshoes, and expensive double-brimmed ^felthat—looked still more absurd now that hisfat face was scarlet; and his clothes weresweaty and soiled It was tiresome wait-ing.At last the sharks, twenty or so. gath¬ered around the boat They smelled thebait, but were not able to locate it exactlyCooper picked up the line and jerked thechunk of pork so that it splashed a little.Silver bellies gleamed as several sharksturned over to bite it. One got the bigsteel hook; the line pulled Cooper over¬board and into the midst of them Silverbellies gleamed again The water waschurned to suds Red was added to thesuds, “like milk and blood being mingledtogether”Paul dived in without stopping to kickoff his ducks—all he usually wore Helanded up to our crew of two fishermenwhat was left of Cooper. Paul got aboardwithout a scratch Cooper was still alivewhen he came aboard; he lived five min¬utes and then sighed; the fishermencrossed themselves and mumbled Mean¬while the four of us stood staring atCooper.I looked at the sky; it was clear. Theocean was calm It was hot Everythingwas the same as before Cooper’s hatfloated on the water near the boat; Ireached for it with an oar. The water hadnot damaged it badly. I handed it to PaulIt was a perfect fit. He went to a mirrorwhich was tacked to the stern post andlooked at his reflection. He tried his headin several attitudes He looked pleasedwith the effect He kept the hat onlimit free education for all to three yearsof elementary schooling. Beyond that edu¬cation at public expense was to depend onsurvival of a competitive process the likeof which has never been seen in theUnited States. The present democratic no¬tion that higher education is open to a student merely because he is the offspring ofa voter would have seemed sheer nonsenseto the most democratic of the FoundingFathers.Nor would he, I think, have been muchimpressed by the intricate labryinth ofcourse examinations, course grades, coursecredits, and the complicated schedule ofarithmetical calculations which have madea patchwork and a counting bee of educa¬tion. The adding machine method of de¬termining the intelligence of the young haslittle in common with the system of in¬tensive external examinations from theward schools onward which jefferson pro¬posed.Still less would he have permitted the nation as a whole to ignore the nationalproblem of education. As one of his biog¬raphers has pointed out, he felt so strong¬ly the necessary connection between freeinstitutions and free education that hewould have been able to think of no wayin which the Union could guarantee a re¬publican form of government to the Statesunless it guaranteed them adequate sup¬port for their public schools. Had we fol¬lowed jefferson to this conclusion, illiter¬acy would long since have disappearedfrom our country; we should not haveschools dosed all over it at the presenttime, and the administration might regardreopening them as almost as important asreopening the banks.The variation m jefferson’s program thathe would now introduce are made necessaryby the change from an economy of scarcityto an economy of plenty. Children cannotnow go to work after three years in thegrades They cannot go to work aftereight vears there We must construct oureducational system with a view to sendingihe ordinary individual into gainful occupa¬tions not earlier than his eighteenth oreven his twentieth year The alternativeto keeping him in school until that age isto put him in jail or enlist him in the armyor navy I doubt if jefferson would favoreither course Instead he would insist onhis two principles: differentiation and se¬lection The principle of differentiationmeans that the pupil should find his wayinto an institution adapted to his individ¬ual needs and capacities If such institu¬tions do not exist, they must be createdjefferson would understand that studentswho have difficulty in existing institutionsshould not necessarily be excluded from alleducational opportunities Nor is theirfailure a reflection on the institution theyhappen to attend It simply shows thatthey ought to be in another one Underpresent conditions they must be educated,there is nothing else that can be done withthemjefferson would, I believe, extend hisward schools and his county colleges tocover a longer period of the pupil’s life Inaddition he would provide in them or par¬allel with them training for those who arethe modern counterpart of his group des¬tined to labor He would understand thatthese students must be taught to be self-sustaining, that they cannot be expected tothrive in institutions whose sole function isto enrich the mind or prepare for the pro¬fessions or advance knowledge Their pres¬ence tfiere merely confuses the faculty, thestudents, and the public as to what it isthe institution is aboutIf we had followed jefferson, then, weshould have today a system of publicschools, supported where necessary by thenational as well as the local authorities,culminating in numerous local colleges andtechnical institutes designed to accommo¬date the youth of the land up to their twen¬tieth year We should have, in short, atremendous expan^^n and diversificationof educational opportunity. The principleof d fferentiaticn would operate all throughthese institutions; the principle of selec¬tion would not operate at all; for the rea¬son that It cannot do so in the present eco¬nomic situation.This does not mean that the principle{I'icasc linn In 1‘in/c Srmi)Page TwoCOMMENTON HISTORY .CURRENT versions of the fiistory ofhistory reveal a subject matter suf¬fering the same accidents and treat¬ments that any science suffers. It has hadits roots pointed out in legend and myth; ithas had its higher autiiorirics questionedand its lower foundations laid in facts; ithas been used for the sanctication and pro¬mulgation of human plans and social pro¬grams as well as for the explosion and anni¬hilation of traditions and customs; it hasbeen systematised and then hypostatised inlost golden ages and beckoning utopias; nhas proved the futility and viciousness ofmetaphysics and then has taken the placeof metaphysics as the solulion of all ul¬timate problems. In all these appearancesit has behaved like a science, but still irhas not been admitted to the scientificpantheon Usually it has been classed byuniversity and college deans as a human¬ity,’ perhaps less usually as an art Since Iam not going to settle this cjuestion exceptfor the purpose of getting on with thispaper. I shall take the side of the deans, asit IS usually wise to do, and assume thathistory is some kind of an art, or if notquite an art, then some kind of a humanity.Supposedly an art or a humanity involvesseme kind of form or some kind of disci¬pline as its essential characteristic It isthis form or discipline that I wish to talkaboutI shall take my cue from Aristotle andwith sucfi backing will burst in where his¬torians fear to tread I propose the thesisiliat history IS a kind of poetry, where[)oetry is the representation of action.Further, I shall add Herodotus to my list ofauthorities and say that history is tragedywritten in the form of narrative The restof what I have to say will then be the ex¬plication of these oracular pronouncements.It would seem al first sight that I wouldnot have to explain or justify the first re¬mark, that history is the representation ofaction, but since I have drafted Aristotle.I shall tiave to give him some assurancethat his position will not be misunderstood,an assurance that he by this time after somany centuries of learned misunderstand¬ing will be surprised to get and I imaginenot very ready to accept But my assuranceIS in the way of a pledge not to forget oneaspect of his metaphysics which throwslight on the meaning of his term action.Action in Aristotle means the fulfillmentor realisation of a form, actualisation mightbetter convey the sense History then is therepresentation of the realisation of a form.Further, a form for Aristotle was fairlycomplex, it had a structure which involvedother subforms, and this subordinationmight go on indefinitely to lower and lowerforms until everything but prime matterhad been rendered intelligible and signifi¬cant It is by taking two such forms fromAristotle’s Poetics and subsuming one un¬der the other that I hope to exhibit theform of history The explication of thesecond remark with which I started, thathistory is tragedy written in the form of anarrative, refers to the subsumption oftragedy under the form of the epic. As itturns out the epic form will show the con¬ventional characteristics of history abdtragedy will sho'w the less understood in¬ternal structure. ••••••••One further word of explication and weshall go on to the main exposition. Historyis the realisation of a form, and though itdoes not always require it, realisation inthis case involves time. In other cases reali¬sation may have always existed, or it maytake place instantaneously, but here we aredealing with the narrative form which it¬self demands a beginning, a middle and anend that have temporal relations, such asbefore, between and after. The form of his¬tory, or the forms of histories are eternal,and they give us that finality which anygood history confers on its material, butthe realisation is temporal both in the tell¬ing and in what is told. The static and thedynamic are so related in any subject mat¬ter of thought that involves time, and wecan take them apart and look at them sepa¬rately if we wish. It is a matter of viewingmerely the form or the realisation as awhole; the former is static and the latters dynamic.I have said enough for the moment toshow that the epic form is the form of ac¬tion, and that will do until we have seenthe internal structure which comes fromtragedy. This structure can best be seen asthe functional subsumption of three terms.Action is a function of plot; plot is a func¬tion of character, and character is a func¬tion of thought; or action depends on plot,plot on character, and character on thought.In the context of the plot the three tem¬poral terms, beginning, middle and end,take on a new meaning. Here the beginningIS a situation, the middle is a complicationthat grows out of the situation, and theend is a denouement History has beenmuch puzzled by the meaning of causality,and has often gone to the sciences to findout what notion of causality is correct, andthen tried to make use of what it has foundthe dominant conception at the time. Thehistorian, and certainly the non-historian,is surprised and upset to find that historiesget out of date chiefly because the scientisthas shifted his notion of causality as soonas he has told the historian which he wasusing at any given time. Recently the sci¬entist has announced no need of a theoryof causality at all and the historian, in orderto keep up with the scientist has an¬nounced complete scepticism in history.My proposal would restore his confidenceand set him free. The type of causality in agiven history would depend on the plot hechooses and as I shall show that dependson the characters and the thought of thestory. Causality is the sort of connectionthat the plot g.ves to the incidents in thestory, and it may be anything that the his¬torian-poet wishes to make it. Once taken itgives the order and connection which trag¬edy demands. The plot is the soul of historyas it was of tragedy.But the content of the plot depends onthe character or characters. Here perhapsis the worst of the historians’ confusions.Most of fiis confusions are coi.cerned withthe determination of facts as distinguishedfrem interpretations. I believe that histroubles would be solved by a greater bold¬ness in the use of poetic license. Charac¬ters look like facts; actually they are typesand hence the primary abstract elements inthe interpretation of facts. The historianshould borrow the techniques of the novel-ibt or perhaps more boldly the idealisa- . by SCOTT BUCHANANtions of the Creek tragedians. Aristotlesays that the tragic hero is better than theaverage man. This has often been under¬stood to mean that Aristotle thought thatthe hero must be morally better than theaverage man; actually he meant, as anyCreek would mean, that the hero must bemore of a type, a better thief as well as abetter king or sorceress. This is a partialexplanation of the special quality that allgood tragedy has, namely irony. The tragichero being a type must also be blind. Inmorals this means that following a prin¬ciple necessitates the ignoring of otherprinciples, in psychology this means thatconscious moral rectitude is paid for by thesuppression of complexes, in logic it meansthat every affirmation involves many nega¬tions. Blindness of this sort is vitally ex¬pensive. The principled man runs the riskof making mistakes, and in a tragedy theaudience should see the dangers as well asthe excellence of the hero’s character. Thehistorian must be willing to run the samerisks with his characters, and he can affordto do that since he is also a part of theaudience and may appreciate the tragicirony that a clearly defined character af¬fords. The only other alternative is vaguear J characterless characters, confusedplots and dead history. The historian mustbe democratic and tolerant enough to seeand make clear the heroic in his charactersno matter who they are; he may have totake lessons from Tolstoi or Dostoevski inorder to overcome his provincial conven¬tional evaluations and acquire the moral in¬sight to see souls in men. Having seen thesoul he should see that the character wearsits outward and visible sign, the tragicmask, throughout the story.To accomplish this he has thought, thethird term in the structure, to work with.Thought in this Aristoelian sense may beunderstood as the explicit manifestation ofthe type-character, but it is more adequate¬ly seen as the plan or purpose to which thecharacter is dedicated. The dedication maybe overtly conscious and voluntary or itmay be implicit and habitual, but it mustclearly exhibit the tie between the actingbody and the soul. In effect the soul thenbecomes the proposition for which thecharacter will lay down his life. Obviouslythis is the most difficult part of historicalinterpretation, but unless some attempt ismade to exhibit the key proposition there isuncertainty in action, inconsequence inplot and indeterminateness in character.So far I have given the vertical structure,but it should be noted that each elementin it has been an increasingly explicit state¬ment of a single principle of tragedy. Char¬acters provide the hypotheses for history.Suppose now we try to describe the crucialstages in the realisation of the form. Theprologue of a tragedy draws in the relevantitems of the situation, the data of history,and when the characters appear, theseitems undergo transformation into the con¬ditions of their actions. Each character byhis thought, as evidenced in speech andconduct, picks up and interprets one itemafter another until they all appear as meansor hindrances to his ends. At the same timeeach character is expressing himself inthese interpretations; characters become(Please tani to Page Eight)Page Three COMMENTTHE REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS 10 COME . .Wishmeyer, johann Wolfgang. TheRemembrance of Things ^o Come, orWork in Digress. 3 vols. 1,500 pages.Bound in alligator and papier mache.Special Provincial American Edition bythe Will o’ the Wisp Press. $7.50.This extraordinary supernovel is thework of a genius, well enough knownin his native Europe, but who is, un¬fortunately, a stranger to the Americanreading public. It is true that some of hiswork has been published in the Pincushionand other of the more popular Parisianmagazines and various members of the ex¬patriate colony have hailed him as the mostdaring and original novelist of this or anyage; but up to now, no publisher on thisside of the wat-'>r has been courageousenough to attempt to distribute an Ameri¬can ed't'on of Wishm.eier’s works. TheWill c’ the Wisp Press however, announcesthat if their first venture. The Remem¬brance (not to be confused with a longer,distinctly inferior work of Proust’s whichbears a similar title) is successful, we willbe favored with a complete edition of theWishmeier’s novels.Perhaps it would not be amiss to reveala little of this previously unknown author’slife. Johann Wolfgang Wishmeier wasborn in Vienna somewhere in between1839 and 1876. The exact date of hisbirth is not knowm because a cow got intothe archive room—or rather closet—of thechurch w'here he was baptised and gorgeditself to death on birth certificates. (For afurther account of this interesting and im¬portant incident see Otto Wishmeier’s DieCeschichte dor cclircckiichen V/ie:ieri:chenKuheselb'tmcrderin. Leipzig, 1893.) Theelder Wishmeier, johann Wolfgang’s fa¬ther, was the famous authority on the useof the preposition in primitive Macedoniandialects; Johann’s relatives, on his father’sside were all noted scholars, philosophers,and artists. Of his mother, .not much isknown. In accordance with a custom ofthe Wishmeier family which was estab¬lished before the beginning of recordedtime, he was educated in the Jesu.t schools.There he was allowed no reading but thebooks of Thomas Aquinas, and occasion¬ally, as relaxation, some of the weightierworks of William of Champeaux In ac¬cordance with his father’s wishes he wasnot taught German until he was fourteen,although he was familiar with Creek-—-that is, he had a reading, not a speakingknowledge of it—at the somewhat earlyage of eight and a half months.He left the Jesuit academy at the age ofeighteen and immediately retired to hiscountry seat, the tower Sinnios, where hestill lives. Due to this seclusion, all hisknowledge about the world was acquired inschool or from the Summa Thcoiogica. Thelatter work has been particularly helpful inhis analysis of the telephone, the motionpicture, and Picasso. v; •One of Wishmeier’s personal character¬istics, which the unthinking might betempted to call peculiar, is the fact that he-has not opened his eyes in the past fortyyears (these forty years have also been theperiod of his most fertile literary creation).The explanation for this action is uncer¬tain; some critics have ventured to guessat a disappointment in love, others—moreCOMMENT fond of detraction than truth—have as¬serted that he is simply too lazy to openthem. But history shows us that the great¬est geniuses have too often been the tar¬gets for the vilenesses of petty minds.Up to now. he has essayed novels insix languages. German. French, Italian,English, Middle High Mongolian, and Dada.The novel in Middle High Mongolian—thetitle has so completely caught the flavor ofthe vernacular that it is untranslatable—is the result of training under his uncle.Joseph Humboldt Wishmeier. who is thegreatest and only authority on that tongue.Th's novel is understood by only two peo¬ple, the uncle and nephew; but no one, noteven the author, pretends to understandthe experiment in the Dadaistic mediumAlthough naturally of a modest and re¬tiring nature, the great success of hisnovels has brought Herr Doktor Wish¬meier much into the public eye. The realmof Viennese letters, over which he rules asa benignant and unseen despot, eagerly de¬vours his slightest and most inccnsequen-t’al utterance. But when, after much persuasion, he announced. "I have met butthree geniuses in my life, Gertrude Stem.Madame Blavatsky, and myself,” thestreets of Vienna were filled with a cheer¬ing, shouting, rioting mob of writers andscholars, the like of which had not beenseen s nee the editor of the Tagcblaft wascaught in the bedroom of the wife of thechief of police.As may have been inferred. The Re¬membrance of Things to Come is not aneasy novel <^o understand The complicatedand unknown myth which forms the basisof the plot is far too esoteric for the com¬prehension of the scholar, let alone the manin the street. But several excellent com¬mentaries have been written. and with thehelp of nine or ten of these the reader willbe able to grasp some small part of theauthor’s meaning. ; :Superficially, the novel relates the tramof thought that passes through the mindof a New York riveter, William Snod-'gross during the five m nutes which it takeshim to wake up one Sunday morning. Theobvious incoherence of the narrative iscaused by the extreme reluctance of Snod¬grass to get out of bed Here commentatorsdiffer. One faction claims that Snodgrass’hangover interferes with the logical pro¬gression of events, while another school isof the opinion that the whole scene is pureallegory and represents the struggle of thehuman race to procure fire from the gods.Wishmeier himself is properly silent onthis point. ^ ; ?The central theme of hopelessness isamplified by the introduction of the oldGeltic legend of Finian Macthool. theFierce Fighter of Fingal. In the matter ofchoosing mythological and legendary paral¬lels we must award Wishmeier the palmover his contemporaries; Joyce was contentwith vulgar Homer and O’Neill utilized thepulp paper dramatics of ancient Greece. Butwhen a Wishmeier stoops to the use ofmyth he does not pander to the populartaste; when he condescends to adapt olderliterature he makes certain that no oneshall understand his sources. No one, withthe possible exception of the novelist and arelative or two, has any idea of what theancient legend was about. Were it not for by GEORG MANNthe sole explanaiory note in the novel, thecritics and the public would be unable toguess the name, much less the matter, ofthe sources of the Remembrance.The best writing in the novel concernsthe episode wherein Snodgrass imagineshimself to be an amphioxus and swimsabout through hazy seas of buttermilk Thecharacter of Albert Partridge, who also ap¬pears as Parson Jones. Don Enrico Doyle,and sometimes only as an old embroideredhcopskirt, is clearly defined. The style isappropriate to the subject, the use of com¬pletely unknown words, subjectively shat¬tered syllables, and majestic obscurity hasseldom been equalled by any sane writer.Wishmeier outdoes himself; in certain pas¬sages no one has dared to guess his mean¬ing.There is also a distinct improvementover the best of contemporary writers inthe handling of sex Nowhere does it ap¬pear in any more tangible or explicit formthan in the. description of a cup of coldchocolateBut It IS an almost impossible task toenumerate all the beauties of the novel.Page after page of impossible delicate an¬alysis. chapter after chapter of undeci¬pherable symbolism clamor for quotation,but sentences and phrases cannot be re¬moved from the body of the text withoutmaterial damage When the reader realisesthat this classic was written upon a brickwall with purple chalk by a man who neveropens his eyes, the immensity of the taskwill confound, not his intelligence whichhas nothing to do with the case, but hisrespect and admirationAll the tremendous erudition of a fam¬ily that has been famous in scholarlv an¬nals for centuries finds expression in TheRemembrance of Things to Come. The solid,not to say ossified, background of learning,the numerous modern classic and prehis¬toric references indicate a mind brimful ofacademic and scholastic lore All these ele¬ments contribute to the profound pes¬simism that IS the core of Wishmeier’sWeltanschaung This obscure scholarly at¬titude toward life, which is the highest ex¬pression of the ceaseless human desire tounknow the knowable, characterized by in¬tense anti rationalism, anti-empiricism,and anti-mysticism, is what the Germanshave learned to call 'Wishmeierismus”.the way of the WishmeiersToo much cannot be said for the brill¬iance of the style Each separate para¬graph, in addition to the individual man¬nerisms of Wishmeier. is done in imitationof a separate author, and each paragraphmanages to exceed the greatness of the or¬iginal.Perhaps the best way to close this review\A'Ould be to quote from a critical essay ofEmil Wishmeier’s on the unique and brilliant style of Johann Wolfgang He says, inP^rt.’’The prose of Johartn Wolfgang Wish¬meier is the envy and admiration of everyliving writer Within itself it combines thesimplicity of Spengler, the preciseness of- Pound, the delicacy of Dreiser, the clarityof Gummings. the joy of Jeffers, the sweet¬ness o'f Strindberg, and the syntax of Ger¬trude Stein.”The human mind cannot conceive norhuman art express greater appreciation.Page FourTHREE TAKE A WALK . ... by LOUISE COLEMANThe sun over Mexico City is sometimesvery hot in the late afternoon. It wasjust such an afternoon when the streetswere sun-choked and the city fatiguedand perspiring, that Mother and Father de¬cided to take a walk. They were anxious togo somewhere where they would not findtheir fellow Americans clamoring for hamsandwiches and ice-water.“What shall we do with Hardy?” askedMother. Sight-seeing with Hardy was atedious business, for his short, fat legs madeswift walking impossible,and Mother disliked hav¬ing to look at the samething very long.“Guess we might aswell take him along,”said Father He oftenwondered why the agesbetween five and sixteenhad to be endured. Nowif Hardy were sixteen in¬stead of SIX, they couldgo to a bull-fight to¬gether, shout and boowith tfie crowd, and thentalk It all over later overa glass of tequila with apinch of salt“Shall we go^” askedMother, and looked atFather questioningly“I’d like to go,” saidHardy, taking advantageof the moment’s indeci¬sion He had been watch¬ing out of the windowand had noticed the peonwomen swinging slowlydown the street withlarge bunches of fruiton top of their heads Hewondered if it reallygrew out of their hair inthat strange manner, andif he didn’t get down onthe street near them hewould never know.“All right,” sighedMother, “get your hat,and mind you, the onewith the wide brim orthe sun will make youdi:zy.”Hardy hurried into thebedroom He took downthe large sailor hat,looked at it a moment,then cast it on the bedand put on his cap He had heard Victor,the bus-boy, tell Mother that the sun wasapt to produce the queerest feeling; every¬thing went around in circles. It must reallybe quite nice, thought Hardy. A walk withMother and Father was usually very dull,and this might be most exciting. Sort oflike sailing about on a carousel. Peppertrees, dirty street pups, camions and beg¬gars all mixed up, so that it looked liked thecamions were climbing the pepper treesand the dogs were sitting on top of thosebothersome beggars. He giggled. It must bequite jolly And then you would get verydizzy and your stomach would turn somer¬saults like it did on the carousel. He didlike a carousel. Mother didn’t notice the cap until theywere out in the Plaza. She started to saysomething but only sighed, so Hardy knewhe was safe and began to enjoy himself. Hewatched the peon women intently. Hisproblem was very difficult to solve. Thefruit looked quite the same as that grownon a tree, but then the stems stuck downin their black hair as if rooted, and theirflat brown faces did have an earthy look.Mother was walking fast and he had toskip to keep up with her. He tugged at herarm.“Mother, does that fruit grow out ofthose ladies’ heads?”“Don't ask silly questions,” said Mothersharply.Well, better to think it did then. It wasnice to think they could reach up and pluckoff a banana whenever they were hungry.They passed the lopsided NationalTheater with its uncovered dome, and thechurch of Santa Brigida.“Let’s go down here,” said Father, turn¬ing into the Calle San juan de Letran. Fromthe Plaza the street narrowed suddenly,and the sandstone blocks absorbed the heatof the sinking sun like a blotter. The side¬walk blended down into the street, and finally disappeared entirely. Mother peeredinto the shop windows and ooh-ed andah-ed at the beaten tin shrines with theircolorful glass doors. Father mopped hisbrow and said “Come on.”Hardy was playing games. He was Han¬sel, and he held an imaginary Cretel bythe hand. They had just escaped from thewitch’s house and had come to a big lake.The dark faced men standing along thestreet were trees in the forest. He smiledback at Cretel. Here were the steppingstones on which theymust cross the lake. Hestepped carefully in thecenter of the stoneblocks, avoiding thecracks which were thedeep water of the lake.The street becameever smaller. Pedestriantraffic seemed an insultto the urgent business oflife struggling within itsborders. They werejostled and bumped bythe aberrant bazaar ofpeddlers and hawkers.Father was interestednow because he couldshew off some of hisMexican. “Carramba,vamuse,” he cried to thepullers who kept shovinglottery tickets in hisface.Hardy was pushed andnearly upset from hisstepping stones by theanxious merchants. Hehad to step on a greatmany cracks. He decidednot to play they were thelake any more, for afterall it wasn’t any fun toplay drowning. A big,dirty-white dog cametoward him pausingevery few feet to givehimself a vigorousscratch. Here comes thewhite duck, thoughtflardy. He sang softly:“Duck, duck, here westand.Hansel and Cretel onthe land.Stepping stones andbridge w-- lack.Carry us over on yournice white back.”He ran over to the dog and caught at itstail. Mother grabbed his hand, the handthat was holding Cretel and said, “Keepaway from that terrible dog. He’s probablycrawling with fleas.”Mother seriously spoiled the game soHardy watched his feet do a strangejigging step. One, two, bump, three, four.One, two, three, trip, four. It was far bet¬ter to look down than up, because the sunwas so hot it made spots jump before hiseyes, and he got very confused. His headfelt awfully light as if it were a balloon tiedto a stick and tugging to be off up to thesky. He began to wish he’d worn the bighat.{Please tai)) fa !*(t(/e Ki()ht)GIRLSby Mortimer AdlerI.Girls are funny creatures.Though some have pretty features;And with their whims and waysSometimes they can put boys in a daze.Though girls can’t play baseball.Or climb a tree and fall;They can do many things that boys cannot.They can sew a button; or fix a cot.II.bePretty soon many offices the girls wiholding,A policemans job some will be shouldering;Some will be auctioneers trying to sellWhat others will do we never can tell.IV.The girls weren’t made for soldiers brave.Nor were they made for boys to save;But they were made by Him above.For boys to honor, respect, and love.\af, : .l.s' (Ill ill list III f iaii of the iiifiiiif sjiirit flint.^■|l|■ess:ll itself iiiiiliireljf in "Diiii/riiininiities'', lee atf'iiiliaee jiiii in, eain imseil hi/ Mai tii■ anil tender iii/e at nine. .Mi('O.^tMoroLIT \ .\ afterla terthlildhi nier Adler at the irresi>an-r. .{(Her siihinitted the poein to'',''.1/<// I////I 1 .N linn emniiosinij it and theij irere inditenoni/h to return it, aneaiiseioiislp })reserrini) it far jiasterifif,’ the e.rpillnatian that then f^d not pnlilisli eerse. It leasMr. .[iller's shjiness and ahharenee at the (/larinp spatliyhtpiildie atti iitiaii, eren then an antstainlinij eharaeferistie atpersaiialitI/, that iirerented him train snhiniftinp Ini'a ithaid nIII I persaiialitII, that prerented him fram siihmittini/ Ins verse,^( 'PIl!.\ h'irs ar H.MlPh'irS ar .same allier ivarthii iaiiriial.it is leitli nndi rstandalde pride and leith admirafian afisr Ill'll lai'iilde eharaeteristies at Mr. .Adler's that lee aresent„ ('O.M.MP.\T far the first time in print that ijieiit .Aristaf-haii’s initial attempt at versitiea t ianPage Five COMMENTCOMMENTThe University of ChicagoLiterary and Critical Quarterly92, Faculty ExchangeUNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOEditorCHARLES TYROLER, IIAssistant EditorE. KENDRICK PORTER, Jr.Business BoardWILLIAM ALVIN PITCHERFRANCIS HOYTAssociate EditorsMARTIN GARDNERJOHN BARDEN, IIIBAYNE O'BRIENLILLIAN SCHOENHUNTINGTON HARRISFARRELL TOOMBSNo responsibility is assumed by the University ofChicago for any statements appearing in COMMENT,or for any contracts entered into by COMMENT.Publisher’s AddressCLARKE-McELROY PUBLISHING CO6140 Cottage Grove AvenueIndividual Copies Twenty-five CentsSponsor Subscription Fifty CentsA Sign ThatWe Have MetWith endless misgivings and fears aplenty, coupled, however, with a very defi¬nite sense of relief, the editors offer thesecond and last COMMENT of the year. Ithas become increasingly evident to the edi ¬tors during the past few months that undera system whereby the appearances of themagazine are spasmodic and few in num¬ber, there can perforce be very little influ¬ence exerted by the organ, regardless of thenature or merit of its content. With this inmind, we have decided to attempt frequentand regular publication during the nextyear. Frequent meaning twice a quarter andregular being assumed by the nature of be¬ing frequent. This will mean work and busi¬ness worries by the score, but we are forcedout of the lethargy that has overtaken usin the long lapses between our appearancesand before our initial issue, by our relative¬ly sincere desire to exploit the definite andfertile fields that we feel can be encom¬passed by an organ of COMMENT’S natureat this University. With this off our chest,at present burdened with proof reading andmakeup problems, we again offer thespring issue of COMMENT with profusepromises of greater things, or should wesay great things, in the offing.While we are in the policy-advancingmood, perm t us to again reiterate ouravowed intention of being a University pub¬lication. Admittedly from time to time wewill import contributions from outsidesources by nationally and internationallyacclaimed authorities who have somethingto say of pertinence to the University, butwe shall always maintain our character asan organ of this University. This implies apredominance of the content being thework of either students or faculty at theUniversity. The foreign contributions willbe welcome and valuable but the majorportion of COMMENT must be the work ofthe community that it is to represent; al¬ though attempting to present the best inthought and appreciation at the Universityis a dangerous task for as it has been said“what prophets are honored in their owncountry?”In formating an editorial policy forCOMMENT at its birth a few months agowe were assailed from all sides to espousethis cause and that. We remained aloof—not however, from any exaggerated senseof our own infallibility, but from our firmconviction that literature at its best is avibrant means of communication and thatits intransic value is not destroyed by what¬ever subject matter it may have. We areavowedly a literary publication and there¬fore fee! it our obligation to pick and choosefrom material submitted to us for the bestexpression of thought But in the selectionfor any given issue we try to exercise in thefinal format an intellectual detachmentfrom controversy and give to our readers abalanced publication based, as far we areable, upon the classic mean of Aristotle.We feel obligated, with a small sectionof the editorial columns unfilled, to ex¬press our appreciation to certain of ourhelpful friends First, to E Kendrick Por¬ter, without whose assistance even such amagazine as this would not have been pos¬sible. Then to William E Scott, for genu¬ine interest, sympathy and cooperation ToVin Newman of the Maroon, for pub¬licity, without which COMMENT wouldnever have achieved even the audiencethat it has And lastly to those who readthe magazine, few in number, but noble,we feel, in spirit C T 2ndMarxism In College . . .by Mrs. .A. W. DiningHE grim dogma of Marxism is that theproletariat, by bloody terror, must sub¬jugate the bourgeoisie, rob them oftheir possessions, and then hold them un¬der the strict dictatorship of the enemyproletariat. Soviet Russia, putting thisprecept into practice by first murderingmillions of its bourgeoisie, finds it still nec¬essary to constantly "liquidate great num¬bers of unconvinced bourgeoisie who havebecome a little tired, aHer seventeen years,cf living in constant fear, without privacyin crowded quarters, waiting in line forblack bread and cucumbers and shoddy ar¬ticles, listening to "plans”, promises andpropaganda, and scratching bites with therest of the Russian masses.Yet, amusingly, capitalists in Americacheerfully support institutions like theUniversity of Chicago where bourgeoisproperty owning professors propagandizeMarxism to capitalistic students whooblig.ngly go out and riot in behalf of theirjoint “liquidation"' Many real proletariansat the same time are putting up a fight forliberty against Red domination of theirlabor unions.The radical professor whose real joy inlife is his American liberty to be contrary,“different”, revolutionary, in his utter¬ances, with the air of an original thinker,parrots Marxian arguments in behalf ofSocialism-Communism under wh^ch hewould have no liberty at all. One wordagainst the “party line” and out he wouldgo like a Trotsky.While Hate is the basis for all warfare,the Marxian tells us the cure for war is disarmament (of non-Marxian govern¬ments) at the same time that he is whip¬ping up class hate for the most horrible ofall warfare—civil class war—and all ofthis is labeled “pacifism”.A college is a sort of mental boardinghouse at which boarders who go to eat as¬sume that the food served complies withcommon pure food laws and rules of de¬cency, The boarding house keepers arenot expected to be so broad minded as toexpectorate or put typhoid germs in theboarders’ milk or to disguise garbage withintellectual salad dressing. “Boarders” atthe U of C should certainly not be blamedif they become mentally sick on the gar¬bage-like diet dished out by the continuousprocession of speakers at the Universitysuch as. recently: Herbert Newton. NegroCommunist agitator now under criminalsyndicalism charges in Atlanta. Ca,; An¬drew Newhoff. District 8 Communist I L Dsecretary; Emma Goldman, atheist-an¬archist free love advocate; etc., etc., etc.,all of whom would be in jail if the lawwere enforcedAs long as. surrounded by bourgeoiscomforts, Marxism merely offers profes¬sors diversion as arm-chair warriors andrestless students a modern battlefield uponwhich to win arrests in riots, it will retainits popularity; but, were these theoreti¬cians to experience what Marxism reallymeans, most of them would become themost rabid of patriots in behalf of Ameri¬can Constitutional government, which hasactually achieved the highest standard ofliving for the largest proportion of its peo¬ple of any government in history and givenpresent day bourgeois descendants of im¬migrant proletarians the opportunity oflearning Marxism at collegeThe Writers . . .ROBERT MAYNARD HUTCHINS• “The Higher Learn ng m Education”) ispresident of the Un vsrsity of Chicago, agraduate of Yale University, member ofPhi Beta Kappa, and Alpha Delta PhiMRS A W DILLINC is the author of“The Red NetworkJAMES KINCHAM ( ’One Felt Hat”)IS a junior in the University of Chicago.SCOTT BUCHANAN (“On History”) isprofessor of philosophy at the Universityof Virgin-aCEORC MANN (“The Remembranceof Things to Come ”) is a graduate of theUn versity of Chicago and is working inthe department of English He will be re¬membered as the first new plan graduateLOUISE COLEMAN (’’Three Take aWalk ”) is an unclassified student at theUniversity of Chicago.MORTIMER ADLER (“Girls”) is asso¬ciate professor of philosophy of law at theUnivers ty of ChicagoMAUDE PHELPS HUTCHINS (CharcoalDrawing) is an artist of distinction andfamed for “Diagrammatics”W. S (“Sonnet” I Of W S. little isknown. He left, however, a curious will.PAUL FATOUT (“Greenwich WorksInstruction”) is a student at Purdue Uni¬versity.EVERETT PARKER (“The Year in Pass¬ing”) is a junior in the University and thepresent editor of the Cap and Gown.COMMENT Page SixHutchins . . .{inni'd from Payr Tiro)of selection should disappear from the edu¬cational scene. On the contrary, it shouldbe invoked in all its jeffersonian rigor atthe end of the schools, colleges, and insti¬tutes that I have just described. It shouldbe invoked at the beginning of the Univer¬sity, Our failure to invoke it there, whereJefferson would have insisted on it mostforcibly, has done more than most things todebase the higher learning in America. Isee true university work as beginning withthe opening of what we commonly call thejunior year. No student is entitled to pro¬ceed at public expense beyond this pointunless he can demonstrate that he has theinterest and the ability which scholarly andprofessional work requires He is not en¬titled as a matter of right to residence inthe academic shades merely because hedoes not wish to labor in more sordid sur¬roundings nor because his parents wish toavoid the responsibility or monotony ofhaving him at home The state must fos¬ter the state university because of thenecessity of fostering scholarship, elevatingthe professions, and providing opportuni¬ties for the cultivation of the minds ofthose who have minds to cultivateSuch. I take it, would be the conse¬quences of being truly jeffersonian aboutthe methods, scope, and organization ofeducation at the present day Our failureto take a jeffersonian attitude on these is¬sues IS partiv responsible tor the failure ofeducation to realize the hopes Jeffersonhad of it But the principal failure of edu¬cation is more fundamental it has failed todevelop a content which can achieve theresults for which Jefferson yearned Thereason is either that we have followed Jef¬ferson's language without understanding itor that Jefferson himself, faced with thepractical problems of his day. overlookedthe intellectual problems of the higherlearning The language that he used hasbeen employed to describe institutionsquite different from those he was describ¬ing. the intellectual life was not a primaryconcern of the democratic statesmanIt is clear that Jefferson thougfit of edu¬cation chiefly as the accumulation of use¬ful information This information was tohelp people earn a Lvmg and become goodCitizens. They were to carry their know'l-edge to the polls He rejected any curricu¬lum that was not useful He reduced thespeculative elements in the course of studyto a minimum We are deceived in look¬ing at his program today because it seemsmuch less useful than our own Actuallyit was much more utilitarian than any thathad appeared before his time Actually itcontains the elements of the present cur¬riculum, and the language used to justify itcould be and has been employed to justifythe worst features of the modern course ofstudyIn the letter to Peter C.arr of 18H Jef¬ferson expressed the hope that Virginiawould make an establishment, “w'hereevery branch of science, deemed useful atthis day and in our country should betaught . . In his letter to GovernorNicholas in 1816, he said, “The universitymust be intended for all the useful sciences.. The report will have to present theplan of an university, analyzing thesciences, selecting those which are useful,• . The report of the Commissioners Ap¬ pointed to Fix the Site of the University,written by Jefferson in 1818, referred to“the sciences which may be useful andeven necessary to the various vocations oflife.”The preliminary drafts of a course ofstudy for the University and the enactmentof the Board of Visitors on April 7, 1824are the embodiment of these views. Ofthe eight schools or departments in theUniversity only one does not contain spe¬cific mention of subjects designed to im-Sonnet by w. s.For shame! (lean fftou hrar'st lore foa nil.Who for fhiiself art so unprorhleni.(ixnif. It thou ii'ilf, fhon art helor'd of1)1(11111,Hat that none lor’sf is most eridenf;For thon art so possessed irith ninrderonshateThat '(laiiist thiis)’!/ fhon sfick'st not toeon spire,Sei kinp that heanteons roof to ruinateWhich to n'jiair should he thp chief desire.(F. ehanpe thii thouffht, that I man chanpenijl mind:Shall hate he fairer lodp’d than fientlelore!I>(. as thii pres( iie<' is, pradons and kind.Or to thjiself at least kind-hearted prorr:Mak( th(( another self, for lore ofni(,That Ixantii still mail lire in thineHdifor'x XiUi : ('()MMK\T has tdinnis nt>'irr)ito itKsriit fhr iritrk' of rrhifii'clj/ iink'iiou'ii andIImil iHi riiifrd iirtisls. If iriis iritli this frrliiiyrinirri iiiiii/ 11’. N. tliiif irr drridrd fo prinf iisiirr.'iiK II of his irork. Admiffi'dlii hr is iiof offhr riiirrisifii nor of fhis nyr: in fnrf ii Irssrrjioif, fdiij/irriyht nnd drnnkord, and a ronfnn-liororij of ir. .S'.'.S' onrr sai<l of him: “Hr hrionysto no ai/i lint to all timr.”prove morals or develop vocational apti¬tudes That exception, the school of an¬cient languages, is more apparent thanreal; that school was thought of either aspreparatory to something else or as illumi¬nating the current scene in which theyoung Virginian would hav'e to vote andearn his living.Jefferson was not proposing a plan forthe higher learning. He was proposingrather a system of education designed toproduce self-sustaming and law ab'dingCitizens. That is. he was interested in thelower ranges of education. He used thewords college and university in such a wayas to confuse us now. He did not meancollege and university in our sense. Thestudent went to his college, for example, atthe age of ten, and to his university at fif¬teen. hHe was advocating an educationalsystem that centered on external goodsand the moral virtues. The intellectualvirtues were not for him. What used tobe called the intellectual love of Cod. whatwe now call the pursuit of truth for its ownsake, the inculcation of which is the objectof the higher learning, scarcely appeared inhis prospectus. He was a practical, socialreformer anxious to make his people pros¬perous and civilized. He was correct as faras he went. Our mistake is in taking himfarther than he meant to go. At the lower levels of education the po¬litical and economic situation determinesthe content of education; education doesnot determine the political and economicsituation. The pupil must be taught toearn a living in the society that exists, notin one that ought to exist sometime. Hemust be made a good citizen of this com¬monwealth, not of another, no matter howmuch better that other may be. Jeffersoncould not hope to improve society, there¬fore, by improving elementary education.The quality of society must inevitablygovern the quality of elementary educa¬tion. Those representatives of the educa¬tional profession who today urge that theschools should be turned into engines ofsocial reform, preferably designed to pro¬duce “collectivism”, whatever that maymean, are making an error that we cantrace to Jefferson. I am not here dis¬cussing the merits of collectivism. It maybe possible and desirable in some form forthe United States. The schools cannot andshould not be the agency that will bringit to pass. An effort to turn them intosuch an agency will merely succeed in ruin¬ing the schools. The society we get willnot depend on the schools we have; theschools we get will depend on the societywe have.Jefferson’s plan of producing decent citi¬zens able to earn a living was sound. Hecould not hope to secure an improved so¬ciety by this means. He could legitimatelyhope to perpetuate the one he had. Be¬cause he said college when we should sayhigh school, and university when we shouldsay junior college and vocational school,we have been led to import his plan intothe higher learning. But it is quite inap¬propriate. As a result, in the higher learn¬ing the intellectual love of Cod has beensubmerged by external goods and the moralvirtues. These are proper objects of ele¬mentary and secondary education. Theyshould be the objects of such education asmay be required to enable the citizen to beeconomically independent and politicallyresponsible. We might even go so far asto say that they should be the objects of alltechnical and vocational training. Theyplay only an incidental role in the higherlearning. The intellectual virtues shouldbe the preoccupation of the university.Now it is clear that the intellectual loveof Cod is the same in any good state. Ex¬ternal goods and the moral virtues mavvary in quality and supply from nation tonation. The intellectual virtues remain thesame in a democracy, an aristocracy, ancl'garchy, or a monarchy. It is through theexercise of the intellectual virtues that thestatesman orders means to ends andachieves the common good. The principalsignification of a bad state is that it pre¬vents the free and independent exercise ofthe intelligence. We may with confidenceforesee the decline and fall of some Euro¬pean governments because they are by thistest bad states. We can discern the dan¬gers in the proposal of the professionaleducators who desire collectivism; theywcu'd force the intelligence to subordinateitself to the social purposes that they de¬sire. The free and independent exercise ofthe intellect is the means by which societymay be improved.Because we have misunderstood Jeffer¬son we have not yet secured a universityin the United States. And what we callPage Seven COMMENTuniversities have been made less effectivethan they would be if we had grasped thefact that Jefferson was not really talkingabout the higher learning because he wasnot talking about the intellectual life. Theaccumulation of useful information hasbeen made the object of our universities aswell as our inferior schools. And becausewe have not been pursuing the truth, buthave been piling up helpful facts, we havehad to multiply courses and departments.VVe couldn't get them all or teach themall otherwise. We have been able to justifythe social aspects of college life—you makefriends who will help you in business. vVehave been able to devote much time, ef¬fort, and money to the physical and moralwelfare of students. We have been ableto forget that a university should be de¬voted to the intellectual love of Cod.The university is the home of the in¬tellect; it is its natural and perhaps its onlyhome. This means that the universityshould renounce any ambition to increasethe ability of its graduates to acquire ex¬ternal goods and should relax its desire totrain them in the moral virtues. Instead itshould see to it that in the college or in theuniversity itself students might first learnhow to deal with ideas. This means anedu::t cn in disciplines designed to teachthe student how to discover, analyze, andutilize ideas. At the same time he shouldbecome acquainted with the principal ideaswhich have directed the activities of man¬kind. These are to be found in books. Itis true that many of them were written inthe ancient languages. I am not suggest¬ing. however, a curriculum largely com¬posed of those languages. I am suggestinga curriculum composed in part of thesebooks, which may be studied in translation.This preliminary period would equip thestudent with the techniques which heneeds to deal with ideas and would famil¬iarize him with important examples. Heshould now be ready for the real work ofthe university. This should consist of theutilization of his previous training in someone large intellectual field; even thisshould not be studied by itself, but in rela¬tion to the other major disciplines. Forexample, medicine and the natural sciencesat its base, law and the social sciences onwhich it rests, and theology are intellec¬tual areas of study having a definite ration¬al content, any one of which might con¬stitute the scene of the student’s intellec¬tual activity. You will note that this ac¬tivity should be intellectual and not voca¬tional. It would have nothing to do withtraining a student to be a teacher, or a doc¬tor, or a lawyer, or a preacher. It wouldinvolve the search for truth for its ownsake, the practice of the intellectual vir¬tues, that study which is the intellectuallove of Cod.A university with students and facultyso trained and so occupied would be freedautomatically of the burdens which thecurriculum and the extra-curriculum nowimpose upon it. Its graduates would beeducated. They might then through theindependent exercise of the understandingmake their contribution to the evolution ofour political and social life. With clearideas, instead of a mass of rapidly aginginformation, they would face the world,bringing to its problems the ordering andbeneficent influence of trained intelli¬gence. This is the influence that both our educational and our political institutionsrequire today as at no earlier period. Nowthat we have passed the pioneering stage,now that we have established the crudestructure of the basic educational systemwhich was the concern of Jefferson, wemust press forward to secure for our coun¬try the blessings of the higher learning.The intellectual love of Cod is indispensa¬ble to the achievement of the democraticideal.Coleman . . .{('oiitiiiKKl tram /'(/»/< h'ivc)Mother looked distressed and held herskirts tightly about her. The maimed beg¬gars clad in stringy rags, held out theirdirty paws and tried to clutch her skirt,"Centavo, centavo, ” they pleaded, rollingtheir sightless eyes imploringly.Hardy hung on limply to Mother’s hand.He tripped over a sleeping street urchin,curled up in a ball with his face betweenhis hands. The boy looked sick, thoughtHardy, but not as sick as he felt now withhis head acting so strangely.Father had stopped, and was janglingwith a dark-eyed Jew over a carved caneThe Jew wanted twelve pesos. Father of¬fered five. The Jew steamed and pantedand beat his brow, and enjoyed himse*fgreatly. Cheating his purchasers seemed tobe an all-absorbing pursuit Father got thecane for seven pesos.The sun had dropped behind the moun¬tains now. but the pavements breathedforth heat A beggar on the curb was play¬ing a grimy mouth-organ, interspersing itsdiscords with a song rendered in an asth¬matic whine It hurt Hardy’s ears."Mother." he said tugging back on herhand, "I feel sick, let’s go home”"Now see." said Mother in her to-prove-a-point voice, "I told you to wear your bighat or you would feel badly. If you can'tdo as your parents tell you, you shall haveto stay home after this”Mother was pretty tired though, so shecalled to Father, "John, Hardy’s feelingsick, I think we had better start back.’'Father’s face was beaming. He was hav¬ing a fine time, "Oh. let’s see where thisgoes, then we can take a camion home. I’msure there must be something even moreinteresting further on” He plunged onthrough the crowd.Mother and Hardy rested a moment inthe ccol shade of the Colezio de Vizainas.The steady hammer of tinker's tools issuedfrom the dark cells. The Colezio had longsince become a tinker’s haven, where junkwas converted into new useless articles tobe hawked in the streets.Hardy began to feel better. H-s head feltits normal weight once more, and he sud¬denly became aware that Father was farahead of them Mother saw a strange darkfigure appear in an alcove and stare atthem, so they hurried after Father.The women of the street were beginningto appear now, sitting on doorsteps or lean¬ing cut of windows. One young woman saron the curb, holding her brown breast fromwhich a wizen-faced baby was nursinghungrily. She was humming, softly, slowly,in a heavy, full voice. Hardy droppedMother’s hand and stood still. Her songwas soothing and cool, and the pounding in his head had stopped now. Her face wasdifferent from the ladies with the fruit. Itwas sad and deep like the pictures of thelovely lady in his Sunday-school book. Hethought he would like to sit beside her,under her soft arm, and listen quietly toher song.Mother crinkled up her nose, grabbedHardy’s hand, gave him a slight tug. andhurriecj down the street. Father tipped hishat far back on his head, paused, becamea little embarrased. and walked hurriedlyafter Mother Hardy came not quite sofast All he heard was the song, it echoedand re echoed in his ears as he truggedalong.The street broadened again as they cameto a small plaza bordered by rickety houseswhich gave an impression of great antiquityfrom their general need of fresh paint.Father hailed a camion, gave instructionsto the driver, and they climbed in Hardysnuggled up against the dark leather backthat smelled like the old story books Grand¬mother had sent himMother sighed loudly. "Oh dear, thatwas depressing How do you suppose thosepeople convince themselves that life is atall worth the living^’’"I liked the song," said Hardy sleepily.Buchanan . . .[('outitHD'd troin Thrti )mutually interpretive as the action bringsthem together The appearance of the pro¬tagonist almost immediately leads to thecomplication of the situation His characterthrows the isolated conditions into thespecifically dramatic pattern of conflictand reveals the beginning of the major plotwhich IS the formal reflection of the com¬plicated Situation Complication means ofcourse the increase of complexity in therelations between the characters and thecircumstances, but it also means the splitbetween the mam purpose or plan of thehero and the incompatible and opposingpurposes and plans of the other characterswhich he ignores or misinterprets. Every¬thing the hero says and does has atleast tv\o meanings, one with respectto his own plan and character and oneor more with respect to the other charac¬ters and circumstances Irony thus electri-f.cs trie Situation, and all the echoes andshadows cf events to come |)lay theirsuper dramatic roles.As the action proceeds, the complicationincreases until finally the hero is caught ina Situation where he is faced with an ines¬capable dilemma His thought has inter-fMCtcd his own action and his circumstancesin such a way that he must make a crucialchoice, f^c Isas prev OLisly chosen one roadto arr.ve at his destination, and he nowf.nds that he must move the mountain oftroubles that have come in his way, or flyrver them. Idis r h.-ii ucU'r will nut let himretrace his steps He decides to move themountain; as a matter of fact he can do noother. F'e attempts to move the mountainby one more act of thought which will re¬interpret his obstacles in terms of meansfavorable to his end, but in so doing hishybris. or arrogance, becomes his nemesisand the result is a complete reversal of cir¬cumstance. This reversal of circumstance isCOMMENT Page Eighta necessary part of any tragedy and needsspecial attention.Aristotle suggests that it has variousphases, and his suggestions lead to theguess that the phases are to be referred tothe various parts of the tragic structure.First, there is the break in the continuityof the plot. Action has been proceedingwith a crescendo of success; the plan ofthe hero is being fulfilled. With respect tothis the reversal is a calamity; fortuneshows another face and the effect is an un¬happy accident which is apparently com¬pletely destructive. With respect to thehero’s character there is what would nowbe called a dissociation of personality; thesituation has presented a dilemma whichforces the surrender of his integrity. Thecharacter type is violated in the forced de¬cision Both of these phases of the reversalare reflected in the thought and the analy¬sis here is logical. The thought of the herowhich appears as his plan or purpose andalso as the thread of the plot is similar tothat in scientific method, more particularlythat part of it which deals with the formu¬lation of a hypothesis, the setting up of anexperiment or a series of experiments andattempts at verification Usually in sciencethe first two stages present no great diffi¬culties; so It IS in the tragedy But the cru¬cial experiment must grow out of resultsof these two first stages The reason¬ing up to the crucial experiment has fol-low-ed the form of the fallacy known as af¬firming the consequent: If A, then x, y,and z The experiments have supplied x,y and z The scientific hero has successfullycomplicated the phenomena, and he infersfrom his successes that A, the hypothesis, istrue But he knows that there are morecases of the phenomena to be included andthat there are other possible hypotheses tobe eliminated, so he gathers up hisstrengthened hypothesis and his estab¬lished findings, and constructs a situationwhich will eliminate as far as possible allalternative conditions that represent otherhypotheses and include important newcases of the phenomena He tries to framefor himself a dilemma as near water-tightas possible. In nine cases out of ten thehypothesis is disproved by the experiment,and it IS a wise scientist who withholds hiscredence in the one successful case, andlooks around for a still more crucial experi¬ment One can see here the reversal of cir¬cumstance, but one should also see the im¬portance of the failure of verification. Itforces on the real scientist a revision andgeneralising of his hypothesis and this cor¬responds to what Aristotle says is the nextnecessity of a tragedy, the discovery orrecognition. Perhaps another formulationof the logic will be clearer here. The scient¬ist has been working with a mathematicalformula and constructing experimentalsituations that will represent the formula.He has been constructing a factual ana¬logue with his thought. In the crucial ex¬periment, the facts out run the thoughtand he has to add to or reconstruct theformula. In tragedy the hero’s character is involved in the thought and he is himselfthe subject of the experiment. The reversalforces him to reconstruct himself, his char¬acter as well as his thought and the tragiccatastrophe registers these in the plot. Thereconstruction of all these when completedis like the theophany or the appearance ofthe deus ex machina in the denouement,and it is thus symbolised in Creek tragedies.So much for the structure and dynamicsof tragedy. Aristotle was also interested inthe effect of tragedy, first on the audienceand second on the characters. As he puts it“through pity and fear it effects relief tothese and similar emotions”. Many havefollowed the literal medical interpretationof the Creek word catharsis that he useshere. But again on the background of Aris¬totelian metaphysics and epistemology, wecan interpret the metaphor. The combina¬tion of the hero’s rational clarity and ironicblindness has accumulated intellectual poi¬sons in the course of the complication. Hehas intellectual constipation and its symp¬toms are a surplus of passion. But the onlyway to draw off passion is through ideas;these are the cleansers of the mind, theonly cathartics that have a benign after¬effect The sudden discovery and clearBOOKS to readBOOKS to buyIhe New’estThe OlciestTo challengeTo interestTo absorbTo amuseU. of C. BOOKSTOREGeneral Book Section Rental Library5802 Ellis AvenueSpecial 20'< discount on allwork to studentsLaundering done on premisesWrightHand Laundry1315 East 57th StreetMidway 2073 recognition that follows or accompaniesthe reversal is the symptom of recovery. Inso far as the audience has shared in thespectacle they too have accumulated andbeen relieved of their chronic ills of senti¬mental opinion and fanatic conviction.But perhaps we had better get back tohistory. Its desired effect is similar to thetragic effect. Legend, report, memory, uto¬pian imagination, propagandist pleading,and historical nostalgia are the materials ofhistory, and the tragic poet whom I havepictured dealing with this material has theend and aim of purging himself and hisreaders of these and similar opinions andemotions. Like the philosopher’s his schol¬arly and critical function is to bring clarityto human passions, opinions and problems.But there will no doubt be objections tothis easy and abstract advice. After all thehistorian has to be faithful to the facts andeven to the apparent chaos. This formalmethod will distort the facts and violatethe historian’s reality. I will let thetragic and the epic poet answer for them¬selves.First the tragic poet, he answers that hetook recourse to the tragic pattern for thevery reason that he found it impossible todetermine facts without it. He watchedhuman affairs in societies where institu¬tions were dimly understood, and wherenatural facts were loaded with mystery. Hewatched these institutions and affairs be¬come established and crystallised, at firstwith delight in the order that appeared,then later with disappointment and horrorat the caricatures that their pronounce¬ments and judgments made of human af¬fairs. Facts were the distorted products ofthese rational and communal judgments.Then he noted the breaks with traditionsand the new starts that soon build the oldmistakes into the new structures. His re¬spect for facts shifted to a respect for theonly things that could be called facts, onthe one hand the necessity of everythingbeing as it is, and on the other hand, theinevitable repetition of the pattern, and hethen decided that the only way to be faith¬ful to his material was to refer it to his pat¬tern and the necessity. Therefore he ex¬pressed his sense of reality in the notion offate or Necessity behind, below and aroundhis drama, and allowed chaos to act as asounding board and amplifier of what littlehe could clearly see on the immediatestage. These were concretely representedin the dramatic necessities of the plot andin the lyrics and dances of the chorus res¬pectively. The plot, the characters and thethought were the tripartite soul of thetragedy and he allowed them their fullpower over its body, which through thechorus and stage business extended itselfto include all.The epic poet has one consoling point toadd. He says that the point of any literaryart is to tell a story. Let the characters bewhat they will, people, races, families,gods, demons, corporations, fairies, ma¬chines, or insects. Put them in action andthey will weave a plot, reveal their char¬acters, and tell you their thoughts. In fact,this is the only way you will ever learn any¬thing about them. Tell a good story and thefacts will take care of themselves.Page Nine COMMENTGREENWICH WORKS INSTRUCriON.. h paui.fatoutI’D HEARD a lot about American effi¬ciency, of course, before I ever thoughtof working for the Northern ElectricCompany, But I’d never seen it in actionuntil I met up with C W. I.—GreenwichWorks Iristructions. When I went in eightmonths ago as a research man for theNorthern Electric at the Greenwich plantin Chicago the first thing I heard of wasC. W. I. A whole lot of rules and regula¬tions tagged C. W. I. Letters and noticeson bulletin boards calling attention to C.W. I. Every day and all day long C. W. I.ran that plant. A carpenter couldn’t saw aboard in two, an electrician couldn’t screwin a light bulb, a man couldn’t move a chairin his office or go out to lunch withoutlooking up instructions. One thing I foundout the first day was that C. W. I. allowedevery man to be late to work eighteentimes during the year. I don’t know whyeighteen, but there it was. Well, right offthe bat, I took all eighteen of mine thefirst eighteen days. That fogged up theworks because the rules didn’t say anythingabout that. They’re still writing me lettersabout it. I suppose there’ll have to be anew edition of C. W. I.Then blueprints. My Cod' Rolls and rollsof blueprints, great big blueprints as big asa table top. Details of water pipes, wiringinstallations, plumbing, positions of desks—Oh hellsfire, every nail in the floor’smarked on blueprints. Lord, I never sawsuch a place' Works engineers, and sani¬tary engineers, and health engineers, andefficiency engineers. You couldn’t turnaround without running into a flock of en¬gineers—with blueprints.There’s so damned much organizationthey have to hire a man just to get aroundit when somebody wants something donein a hurry. Ordinarily to have a piece ofapparatus built, say of sheet metal andwood, you send up your plans to the worksdepartment for approval. Then they go tothe executive department, and in about amonth, if the executive department O. K.’sthem, they go to the construction depart¬ment. Well hell, when they get to the con¬struction department they’re sunk. Theyget a serial number and are stuck in one ofthese organized files. It’s built on the the¬ory that the mechanics, carpenters, and soon are all going to do their jobs on scheduleso that when the serial number comes upthe various pieces of the apparatus areready and all there is to do is to assemblethem. Well, the way it works out is thatthe carpenters are all ready to put the ap¬paratus together, and then they find thetinsmiths haven’t cut the pieces out yet. Sothe plans are set back so many numbers,and it might be a year before anythingcomes out of the construction department.I found out that the thing to do if youwanted anything in a hurry was to see Otto.Otto is a—well, he’s a politician. He goesaround and sees the carpenters and tin¬smiths and gets them to work by offeringto fix up their radios. He finds out whatnew parts they need, and then by Georgehe goes around through the plant and stealsthose parts for them so they’ll build theapparatus on the side. We couldn’t getalong up there without OttoAnother man I like is the janitor whosweeps out my laboratory. He’s about the most interesting man I’ve met at theNorthern Electric. His name’s John, andhe’s from Latvia. He lives out in Ciceronext door to a bootlegger who makes beerin a couple of big vats in his garage. Well,every once in a while the prohibition agentscatch up with him and come out and chopup the vats. Then John goes out and talkswith them, and finally they’ll throw thewood over in his yard. The bootleggerdoesn’t have anything to start up withagain; so John loans him the money to getgoing with. “You know, ” he said, ”if theychop up those vats just once more I’ll haveenough wood to last all winter”I must tell you about the fracas about thewindow. This is good. My laboratory on thesecond floor has a couple of good sizedwindows in it that open on an alley Lastsummer the place got pretty hot, and I al¬ways opened both windows. One morninga man walked in. He didn’t say anything,just looked all around, saw the open win¬dows. closed one, and walked out Well,as soon as he’d left I opened it up againIn a day or so we did the same thing overThen it happened a third time; so I said.“Why do you keep closing that window^It's pretty hot in here. ”“Well.” he said, “that window’s notsupposed to be open”“Why not^“ I said.So he hauled out a notebook and lookedinto it for a long time. Then he said, “Notaccording to C. W. I”“Well, burn my shoes'” I said. “I knowdamn well I’ll open it as soon as you leave”So he looked in his book again and shookhis head. Then ne took my telephone andcalled up somebody. In about two minutesin came three men—works engineers —with five or six big rolls of blueprints andall kinds of thick wads of typewrittenpages. They cleared off a table and laid theblueprints down and started to unwindthem trying to find the windows in mylaboratory. They messed around a hell of alot All you could see was blueprints wav¬ing in the air; lord, it took two men to turnone over. Well finally they found the placeand all crowded around with their pencilsand all talking at once Then they stood andlooked up at the window and talked aboutthe weather and their golf scores. Thenthey thumbed over the typewriting andunwound the blueprints again. Then theylooked at the window. At last they decidedG. W. I. required that that particular win¬dow had to be kept closed“What the hell!” I said. “Why can’t Ihave that window open?’’’Well they didn’t know. They scrambledaround in the blueprints, looked at the win¬dow. and shook their heads. G W. I. speci¬fied a closed window, and hell there wasjust no getting around it. But they said Icould write a letter and send it through theproper channels requesting a change in theinstructions so I could open the window.So I wrote a letter. That was two monthsago, and I suppose the letter is still in thechannels because I haven’t heard from it.I went on opening the window every day,though, just the same.G. W. I. sure raised hell with poor oldEinmetz. Dr. Karl Einmetz. He’d come infrom the University of Chicago; he’s beena brilliant physicist over there. I guess he didn’t know what he was getting into atNorthern Electric. He worked in the samelaboratory with me for awhile, but hecouldn’t stand the efficiency racket verylong. He’d been used to doing things aboutas he pleased at the University, taking timeoff when he felt like it. and nobody to tellhim what to do. And all the experts at theplant, and the inspectors, and the routinegot more and more on his nerves. Everytime a man came in and began lookingaround and putting things down in a note¬book you could see Einmetz sink a littlelower He got sort of wild-cycd—had adevil of a time. The only way he couldstand things at all was to get drunk Christ,he was snozzled all the timeWell, we had a telephone stuck away ina kind of a tall floor cabinet, tall enoughto stand up in, and the telephone was on ashelf We didn’t think anything about itsbeing there It seemed a good enoughplace; we didn’t use a telephone much any¬way But one day—a day when Einmetzwas |ust about fed up—in came another ofthe fifty-seven varieties of experts, cockedhis eye all around, poked into the cabinet,and found our telephone Well, he damnnear had a hemorrhage He told us C W Ipermitted no telephones to be installed infloor cabinets and said ours must come outof there right away and be re installedsomewhere else"But good lord.” I said “What s thedifference^ We don t use it much and it’shandy there ”Nothing doing He said it had to comeout And by George it d'd come out Ein¬metz just boiled over He grabbed thattelephone and broke the cord with a yankand threw the telephone on the floor andyelled, “Take your god damn telephone'”Then he tore out of the lab waving his armsand that was the last we saw of poor oldEinmetz 1 guess that expert must havemade some other notes, too. because I gota letter after awhile telling me that I wasmaking a fire hazard It seems I left someblocks of wood on a radiatorSo all the time things happen like thatto show how efficient and well organizedthe plant is. Eor instance, along one sideof my laboratory is a contraption called a“hood ” It's not a very big thing, just aglass-enclosed space about four feet longand four feet high connected with a fluefor carrying off smells generated by heatingchemical compounds Every laboratoryhas a hood Mine was a little fancier thanusual with a sliding glass front that pulleddown and cut off the smells. When thissliding front was open it stuck up abovethe top of the hood, and then you noticedthat the wood frame around the glass,about an inch wide, was painted white Thelaboratory walls were a kind of light grey.This front was open a good deal of thetime, and one day it caught the eye of somekind of engineer or other wandering aroundas usual Well, right away he was all ex¬cited about itHe said, “How long has that hood beenpainted white?”“I don’t know,’’ I said. “Ever since I’vebeen here”“Well,” he said, “I’ll have to send in acriticism on that”So he made some notes on a card. AndGO M M E NT Page Tenabout the middle of the afternoon therewas a commotion outside; then the doubledoors were flung open and in walked twomen with ladders. Another man camealong pushing a rubber-tired double-deckertruck—Oh. a hell of a fancy truck full ofpaint cans and brushes and putty and lordknows what all. One man had a slip ofpaper in his hand, and he said, "Where’sthe paint job^’’"What paint job-^" I said."Is this laboratory 201^""Yes.""Well, there’s a paint job here”"Oh," I said "Maybe you mean thehood”So I showed them the glass front withits inch frame painted white. This bri¬gade had come in to paint it gray like thewalls They snapped into action, unlim-bered the brushes and cans, and did the jobin three minutes. Then they put the stuff back on the truck, picked up the ladders,wheeled the truck out, and closed the dou¬ble doors. Nobody smiled, and nobodysaid anything.I went up to my office—even though Ido spend most of my time in the labora¬tory I do have an office and desk—to tellDave Conner, who was in the same officewith me. about the painting business, butI found that Dave had moved to anotheroffice. Sometimes I didn’t get up therefor a week; so I didn’t always know whatwas going on. Well, I guess Dave was nomore than out the door before a squad ofmovers came around to move his desk tothe storeroom. One of the rules in C.W.I.is that all unused office furniture must betaken immediately to the storeroom. Sonothing was left of Dave but three inchesof pipe sticking up out of the floor, a con¬duit for telephone wire that had been un¬der Dave’s desk. Nothing was done about it until a manwho came in to see me stumbled over it.Then I called in the health engineer. Hesaid the pipe was undoubtedly a healthhazard, and he sent for three assistantswho came in with bales of instructions androlls of blueprints. They spread out theblueprints on my desk and looked at themand read the instructions. The pipe could¬n’t be cut off. All wire conduits mustproject three inches. The pipe either hadto be there or not to be there. There wasno cutting it off. Well, nothing happenedthe first day. The pipe still stuck up. Nextday they came back again and struggled along time. They finally figured out thatthe only thing to do was to bring the deskback and set it over the pipe. So they senta requisition to the storeroom to get thedesk back, and that destroyed the healthhazard. I’d never realized what efficiencywas until I got into the Northern Electric.THE YEAR IN PASSING . . by EVERETT PARKERPerhaps it would be well to explam|ust how this epic came into beingTyroler had a page to fill just beforehe had to spank little Comment and put itto bed, and lacking the energy to fill ithimself, he went hunting for someonefoolish enough to do it for him He hap¬pened to meet me first and. being a smoothtalker, convinced me that it would be a fineidea for me to give my impressions of theacademic year 1933 1934 in 2,000 words.Wfien I regained my senses, the idea didnot look nearly so good, but I was com¬mitted, so I strolled into the Maid-Ritelocking for consolation and inspiration andfound Barden, Watson. Sandman, Quinnand Harris holding a binge It was thenthat the brilliant thought struck me Here,I mused, is a good cross section of under¬graduate life—Barden handles our newsand tells us what to think, Watson is thecampus’ premier socialite, Quinn is an art¬ist. Sandman knows all the dirt; and Har¬ris IS a keen critic of campus affairs, albeita little morose at times—why not let themtell their impressions of the year^ I musthave been as persuasive as was lyroler,for they all went to work with the resultswhich you can see belowI haven't read the other articles yet, butI imagine they will be somewhat like this:Barden will probably tell of the undergrad¬uate intellectual revival of which he wasthe undoubted leader He will tell as doesPresident Hutchins that there is more in¬tellectual activity on this campus than onany other in the country; but he will beforced to admit that this activity is carriedon by only a small group. Watson will tellof football, basketball, track and the resof the sports and will describe the athleticrevival and the rebirth of "collegiatt*spirit. He will recall the highlights Oithe proms, the fraternity and club partiesBlackfriars. Mirror, and the Drarnat.c As¬sociation productions. Quinn may find theinterest of the year centering in art—theexhibits and the excellent creative effortsof such workers as Krevitsky, Humphrey, Sturges and himself. Sandman may reviewthe engagements, the marriages and thebroken hearts. Harris may talk of books,the theatre, and George Mann’s soirees.But all will tell of the outstanding successof the undergraduate publications, of theshame of fhe fraternities and the interfra¬ternity committee, of merger plans andtheir failure, of anii-war agitation and itsamusing results, of Rapp and the last ofthe old planners, of music and drama andstudies and dates, . . and more and moreand more. But read for yourself.JOHN BARDEN:Since the realization of President Har¬per’s structural dreams and the jelling ofthe new plan in a structural mold, un¬recognizable even to its administrator, theUniversity community had become as setin its ways as the country parson of thelittle white church on Main Street. Aca¬demic year, 1933-1934 promised nothingbut prosaic routine.But undergraduates by nature are disap¬pointing, and they handed peace-lovers inthe University community the greatest dis¬appointment since original whoopee daysof new plan promulgation. All undergrad¬uates were guilty of putting on the finestand most atrocious demonstration in Uni-versiy history before the Purdue game.What did it matter that the gods ordainedthat the Maroons should drown in theirown back yard and Purdue splashed to amud victory?But the magnificent school spirit there¬after was reduced from actuality to poten¬tiality, and students turned to higherthings—even higher education.The greatest single proposal in behalf ofhigher education was the merger. For pur¬poses of revenge President Hutchins waspersuaded to address the undergraduatebody on his visionary proposal. The presi¬dent’s command of English is indeed ad¬mirable. He spoke for half an hour and saidnothingBut he did say a great deal at the De¬cember convocation. Perhaps that com¬mand of the language had deteriorated. After much contemplation. The DailyMaroon conducted a campaign to explainwhat the President had said at convocation.Unfortunately it turned out that he had notonly said the first but also the last word.It might also be said that the Maroonraised intellectual activity of Universityundergraduates to that very low level thatwas somewhat superior to that of anyother undergraduate body.As a reward for intellectual endeavorcertain campus personages—to their owngreat personal enjoyment—were satirizedin the best Blackfriar show in six years—Merger for Millions.The Maroon’s noble efforts produced aninferior piece of academic legislation fromthe college faculty, a new pre-legal curric¬ulum, an excellent after-dinner speech byPresident Hutchins, and a genuine aca¬demic urge in its writer.Meanwhile the University won six con¬ference championships. Mirror staged afine show, the usual proms and balls flour¬ished, and the year drew to a tired close.Its c'ose might also have been happy, wereit not for our abominable American habitof defying our Mays and Junes by feverishexamination-cramming. But June 15 ap¬proaches and the bliss of ignorance willprevail.The only bright light in these closingdays is the Cap and Gown—one of the fin¬est we have ever thumbed through.VINCENT QUINN:He sits there, his pen poised above thepaper, and he thinks about THE YEARhe thinks about that magazine, Phoenix,was it outstanding? Yes, when it pickedthe sweetest gal on campus, but for mostamusmg reasons, the D. A. elections? Sure,the six too-many-votes and the re-votingwere certainly outstanding. The MilitaryBall, because it was staged and the AlmostAnti-Military Ball was a rosy bubble, andthe daily bombshell in the Maroon whichinduced this unworthy one to start pickingup threads when THAT MAN began loom¬ing up larger and larger, and there was aPage Eleven COMMENTcolumn in it, the Maroon, I mean, Sweet¬ness and Light, and good too, and therewas Blackfriars when H. H. played the or¬iginal score and someone read what heclaimed was the original manuscript, andthere were parties, and battles, and SidHyman’s borrowed tuxedo and, let’s see, anight at the theatre, but whathehell,whathehell! And there was Sandman, getaway from me gal, you bother me.AOcLE SANDMAN:The Comment must go to press so theevents of the year flit through our mindsas easily as events do flit. The first, per¬haps, is the Dartmouth game (the othershaving been conveniently forgotten*. BillBerg’s spectacular debut on the footballfield. And then there was Phoenix’’Sweetest Little Cal” contest Of coursewe all knew who the winner would be, butimag ne the excitement and wild bettingon those luminaries placing and showing.Many were anxious to see what ye editorwould do to the old mag, while othersthought any change would be for the bet¬ter.The Inter-fraternity, Washington Prom,and Military Balls are just vague blanks—’’being in the nature of sour grapes by onewho couldn’t make the grade. ”The elections are always ’’good copy,”the Daily Maroon can always become in¬censed at elections. Sometimes we thinkthat is one reason for the perpetrators ofcampus aopointments, “of course everyone knows it’s fixed ” but the news periodicalmust have copy for editorials.Blackfriars ah—noble institution, neverwill forget the beautiful expression thatpassed over H. Harris’ face when he sat inat dress rehearsal and shocked the troupby shouting “Whoops, that’s my line!Good show, good show.Good year—good fun—good work—though little.WILLIAM WATSON:The Chicago band parading down StaggField .. . an excited crowd wonders, willthey play “Wave the Flag ” or will theyhave to stick to “Chicago, We’re True to'V'our’’’ But there’s Rapp sitting down thereon the bench; what’s wrong. . . plead¬ingly he says, “Put me in Coach, I’ll fight”Another football season over. . . Ber-wanger, Berwanger, Berwanger; it’s beenBerwanger all yearThe publications office . we sleeppublications, we eat them, we dream ofthem; but what do we get . a directorywith all the names spelled wrong. Oh well,the Maroon does good work, so does thePhoenix, and by the way, what's so badabout the Cap and Gown?Then come our Proms. . . what couldwe do without them^ Kings relax—whyshouldn’t we, and we do with our favoritewomen Remember the Military Ball. . .it made the biggest impression on me Iwasn’t there . . why can’t a fellow geta d^te when he wants to^ Politics and more politics this year. . . .everyone seems to be turning politician. . . .oh well, we all get our little posi¬tions some way or other. Elections. . . .exciting, fascinating elections. . . .happyfaces, disappointed ones. Cheer up. they’reall drag. . . .’’How m Cod’s name did youever get to be a marshal anyway?”Another year rolled away again and theU. of C has turned out another gang ofintellects, like the C M building turnsout Che ^ r’ ^ at the World’s Fair. Oh welllife can’t go on without that certainthing.HUNTtNCTON HARRIS:On May twenty-eighth the Universitywitnessed the phenomenal spectacle of anon-political organization put on a showand, what is more, the best show that hasbeen here in my memory. The opera itselfis no tremendous drama, it is. as a certainfaculty member said, an opera designedfor the delectation of the virgin But itwas presented in a truly finished formApart from the fact that there was no Ponsnor Martinelli in the cast, the performanceleft nothing that could be wished If theDepartment of Music is unable to produceDido and Aeneas again this year, I sin¬cerely hope that it will do much the samething next year For, if it be the end of themusical and dramatic organizations on thecampus to produce a good show, thechorus and the Department of Music un¬doubtedly have most closely approximatedthe idealWE PAY TRIBUTE h\ T. 2ndTo MILT OLIN for editing a good Phoe¬nix, writing the leading column in TheDaily Maroon and, in Frank O’Hara’s words,“Who has done more for dramatics at theUniversity than my good friend Milt Olini’’To JOHN BARDEN for being responsiblefor the most controversy-provoking DailyMaroon in history.To EVERETT PARKER. WILLIAMWATSON and WALDEMAR SOLF, threenew plan juniors, for the prodigous under¬taking of reviving the Cap and Gown andmaking it beyond all doubt the most orig¬inal and refreshing year book, both fromthe point of view of content and makeup,that we have ever seen.To MORTIMER ADLER for being themost discussed and possibly the most mis¬understood man on the campus.To AMOS ALONZO STAGG. JR,, for fol¬lowing in the footsteps of his illustriousfather and for giving Chicago its secondsuccessive conference tennis champion¬ship.To MAX DAVIDSON, captain of Chi¬cago’s tennis team and conference singlesand doubles champion, for being one ofthe outstanding Maroon athletes of theyear.To GEORGE WRIGHTE, captain of theConference champion gym team and con¬ference individual title-holder, for beingthe other. To ROBERT MAYNARD HUTCHINSfor overnight making himself the best likedman on the campus.To HAL JAMES, ALEX KEHOE. LOISCROMWELL. NORMAN MASTERSONand ROBERT EBERT for carrying thegreater share of the Dramatic Association'sacting burden throughout the year.To PHIL WHITE for proving that quiet,conscientious and able effort receives itsjust recognition in^the long runTo ROBERT VALENTINE MERRILL,coach of the fencing team and head mar¬shal of the University, for being the University’s only amateur athletic coach.To the late ARTHUR SHUMWAY. for¬mer contributor to these pages, whose mys¬terious death this winter was a shock tothe admiring followers of his budding liter¬ary and journalistic career.To the late PAUL SHOREY, greatest ofall Creek scholars and one of the Univer¬sity’s and all scholarship’s immortals.To GEORG MANN for being the firstnew plan graduateTo HENRY LEDERER and LESTER LEEHASSENBUSCH for graduating in threeyears under the new plan with an “A”record.To BOB STORER for saving the day forthe Blackfriars by stepping into the leadingrole on seventy-two hours notice and then“stealing the show” To ELL PATTERSON and PETE 21 MiMER for being captain elect and captainof Chicago's gridiron players, and furtherfor being the high type of man that Chi¬cago's athletics have always attractedTo the Chicago society of the ALPHADELTA PHI for not forgetting some of theideals upon which their fraternity was or¬iginally founded and giving visible evidenceof their admirable ideals each year in thetraditional A D playsTo RUTH WORKS and GERALDINESMIITHWICK for being the most af'^ableand least self-important B W O C’s thatwe have ever known, and all of this whilebeing two of the most attractive specimensof femininity that the campus has beenblessed with in many a dayTo LORRAINE WATSON for beingeverybody’s ideal, the president of Phi BetaKappa and the most outstanding repre¬sentative of w'omen’s activities and themost popular girl on the campusTo GEORGE T VAN DER HOEF fordirecting his brain child. The Student Lec¬ture Service, through its second successfulyear, for furnishing new employmentthereby to needy students and lastly forupholding the intellectual traditions of theUniversity as the leader and host at Hitch¬cock hall of the most versatile and diver¬sified interest group on the campusO M M E N T Page TwelveDAILY MAROONOF FILMV"PLEASE REWINDI