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If I knew you better, and if you weren't so far advanced in rank, I would now call on one of you and ask him to report on what was said last time. But I thought it over; I thought I'd better do it myself.

Your own students are potential teachers, potential trainers, and potential instructors. And if you look at the question--what is this? what does this mean?--then we might perhaps say from what I tried to bring up last time, that a trainer is a man who can mold a body; an instructor is a man can -- who can meet a mind; and a teacher is a man who can change his mind.

A teacher is a time-binder. He forces an -- prehistorical being, a young person, to get up on the level of the needs of his time to the point where the next step is prepared, or has to be taken. I have -- put it in a very primitive way there, on the blackboard--it isn't worth much. The main point I tried to make was that education is not molding a man for his own sake; it is not changing a man; it is not influencing him; but it is the recognition of two levels--the ti- -- level of contemporaneity, of real living, and the pre- -- from the prehistoric level. And therefore the "e" in "educate"--you know, it comes from "duction," from "pull"--the "e" in "educate" means to lift -- to dig him out of hi- -- the inertia of the soil from which he springs, and to put him on this moving level, on this conveyor belt through time. The "e" in "educate" then means to put him between past and future. It is not true that a child lives in the present. It lives out of time. And to educate means to lift it.

In this moment here, I'm transgressing, as you see, in my report on yesterday. I'm enlarging on something which -- for which I have -- didn't seem to have enough time. I think any such report--I demand them from all my students at the beginning always of the next class--has the right to do this. When there has been a slip in a -- in any lively delivery, that's unavoidable. Such a report serves a very good purpose, that it can round out the picture.

We then -- went a little further and said that nature knows of no transfer of acquired qualities, and teaching introduces this possibility into the race. And this is what we call historical living.

The other aspect of yesterday may perhaps even be more clearly in your mind, that the classroom is not inducive to recognize any processes beyond the individual -- level of self-interest, of instruction, or of training, because the real life of men with each other is well-timed; it is specific; and it is personal. The life in the classroom is abstract, general, impersonal, and either too late or too early. I

-- think that I come too late with my principles--sound as they are--to you; you know it all, already. When you get these young kids, many of the good things you have to tell them come too early. They aren't mature enough to grasp it. Again, this is an addition of yes- -- to yesterday. Yesterday I had only dwelt on the point that in the classroom, we come too late. But of course we just as often come too early. The spirit comes in good time.

So we have these barriers to teaching, and that was the gist of the matter yesterday. I have given you this report for a practical reason, so that we may geh- -- -o forward, and I may show you some more barriers to teaching and to learning, because I propose that today I start a little bit from the side of the learning process in our students, in ourselves.

What I have done here today is changed my tone. This report is given in a different voice, in a different temper than what I tried today -- yesterday. I tried yesterday to get your interest, get your affection, get your sympathy, get your understanding. Today I only wish to remind you. Now as you well know, all learning needs both phases. It is impossible to teach on an even keel. It has been for the last 30 years--especially in New England--the great idea to speak so that you don't -- couldn't hear the man. He would drop it all here, in the back of his throat. And he shouldn't of course show any emotion; he should be objective. So the result is that our students are completely ignorant of what the man here has taught them.

Because gentlemen, teaching is a life process, and this is the topic of today -- what I have to say today. Life cannot stand still. The -- life in any one moment changes its form. You eat. It tastes good in your mouth. It has to go down your -- to the pharynx. It has to enter the stomach, in every one moment, this food, because it enters a living body, has to take on a different form. Well, it isn't different with learning. It is impossible to receive for the first time a truth in the same manner as it has to be repeated, when you want to memorize it. A report on what I have said yesterday must sound differently from the way I put it -- up to you first. "Memory is the mother of study" -- "Repetition is the mother of study" is an old saying. But only under one condition, gentlemen: when each time that you have your man repeat the thing, and it is repeated, so to speak, in a different style. This is perfectly unknown.

I have to tell you some other new things I've just published in a German book, because in Germany--there is a little more interest now in an unfortunate country, of course--than here where people still believe that you can transmit reason in a rational fashion; you can teach science in a scientific or objective fashion. You cannot. Because learning is life, by living together. Now there is no life that doesn't demand a change of climate, constantly. It is impossible when

you are in love not to marry, finally. That's a selective process. If you are really in love, {the statement is} that you marry, and finally you have a kitchen. Now the climate in a kitchen is very different from the honeymoon. After all, it -- what it comes to is that you wash the dishes. That doesn't mean that the love has ceased. It has changed. And this constant alteration, this constant transformation of any living process is the first thing I think a teacher has to accept.

It is right that I should have spoken today--perhaps I haven't even done it sufficiently--with a more detached voice in reporting on yesterday's lecture. But that doesn't mean that you can have any truth -- said for the first time with the same detachment. It has to enter life in an enthusiastic fashion.

And now, I wish to build this up a much -- a little more carefully. The change of climate through which any -- this process of transmission has to pass in order to be assimilated. It is quite impossible, as I said, to teach in a detached manner; then it would be much better that a loudspeaker is turned on in Washington, and all the 145,000 students have to listen to what comes over the loudspeaker at the same time, you see. Why can't we do it? Why is it ridiculous to think of such a system? Well, some people don't even laugh. They think it could be done. It cannot be done, because the loudspeaker deprives you of perceiving in the teacher this flow from one keyboard, so to speak, from one attitude to the next. Let me be -- be much more specific.

I myself have learned a number of languages. And I discovered to my dismay that there are many ways of learning, many degrees. If I -- how we learn our mother tongue I'll say at the end. Every one of us had to learn one language. I had to learn many others, but I didn't learn any one of these languages in the same manner. I learned them in quite different climates. And I would like to draw your attention to the fact that there is a frequency band, of what you may call a vitality spectrum--I put it down here--and that what the modern mind has made out as the normal climate of meeting people of their own time, contemporaries, in objective, rational speech, with "Hello," and "How do you do?" and "The weather is fine"--today it really is--and -- that this is only one climate of meeting another man's mind or of speech.

I have learned Bulgarian at one time. It's a terrible language. I don't know Russian, I don't know Polish, I don't know any Slavic language, so Bulgarian was the ultimate. I had to go to the -- for a study to this country -- study the work service there. And in three months I -- in the country, I became quite capable of ordering a meal, or talking to people. When I left the country, I still remember when I -- the train moved from Bulgaria into Serbia--it was in the '20s--I rejoiced. My brain gave out, and after that, I haven't known one word of Bulgarian. It had -- I had been under terrific strain. I had photographed these words, so to speak,

here on the outer disc of my brain, here in the first layer. It had never penetrated. And with tremendous effort in these three months, I had held onto this mechanical way of learning. It was a dead weight. It had never really been assimilated; it had never become organic, as we say.

So we come to the fact that I can learn a language mechanically. Like any animal, it can be dinned into me.

The second step is organic learning. I have learned English in this manner as a child. We had an English nurse--as a matter of fact, she was Irish. Her gloves were always torn, but that was a very great starting point for us to learn English, because we had to learn to tease her about -- the gloves she would never mend. I have learned English therefore without grammar, without book, without any rational -- rationale, you see, nothing before my eyes. I never asked myself about any English form -- perhaps this is -- that's why I still make grammatical mistakes. But certainly it was an unconscious -- sub- -- preconscious process by which I was allowed to have the English sink in. I learned it especially well, because later we had a wonderful person -- young woman from Amer- -- from New York who taught us to sing, who -- taught us to -- little doggerels, and to -- little acts which we could enact ourselves in English. My first song was "The -- the Old Nigger, Uncle Ned." And so it became a natural. I would call this "organic learning."

French I have learned in the French manner, enlightened, rational, with a grammar. I still always, when I have to speak, see the -- the lists of grammar in my -- before my mind. Terrible. I always make mistakes. Consciousness is not inducive to language learning. And so that's the result of this objective era of treach- -- teaching in our colleges that nobody knows any language. You are -- the Army had to come along and show people how to -- to learn a language. As you know, the -- it had a very brilliant result, but it -- the only way was to throw out the book, to throw out the consciousness and create an instinct, and an organic immersion, you see, total immersion into the language. You have heard of our language schools.

I have learned Italian because I was in love, passionately and mutually--best way of learning any language. If you are -- passionate about something, you see, you -- you really anticipate. Inertia goes ou- -- it's simply an observation of every man who can keep his head above water when he's in love, which is very difficult, that he, like the salmon, wants to go upstream. Man is in this situation uphill animal. Perhaps he is the uphill animal of creation. We go to the Great Divide and cross it, because we go against the trend, against inertia whenever we are passionate. And you learn -- this Italian language then, you anticipate. I mean, you say things -- before you know any part of the sentence,

you can say the whole sentence. The whole sentence is easier to grasp in a language actually than the single words.

And -- and Greek I have learned enthusiastically with the feeling that this was my ticket of entrance to immortality, to the greatness of life. At that time, I thought I would become a Greek scholar and a classicist. And it was, as you know, in times when the Olympics were started, Greek was the highest portals to humanity. Your president, Benjamin Wheeler of Berkeley, was able in 1898, when the -- when the Greeks and the Turks were at war in -- over Thessaly, to enthuse his class in Berkeley, California--now that's saying something, so that they all got up and shouted with joy--by -- quoting some verses of Aeschylus or about the Persians--meaning the Turks, you see, and contrasting them with the Greeks in the Great War -- or wars of Sal- -- Salamis and Marathon. In 1898, Greek was still the -- the mirror of modern man for his fights for freedom, and for the future.

And so to learn Greek--you can hardly understand this, now, because nobody learns Greek -- today, except some people who take advantage of the many scholarships established for Greek in the old days. Greek was -- you learned it with a religious attitude. This was the divine life which would illuminate your own life.

So what is -- does this mean, gentlemen? The same thing--a language--can be learned in five different climates, principally. That doesn't mean that you don't have of course to learn in Greek certain parts of Greek in a rational fashion, and some others in an instinctive fashion, by repetition and rhythmically. But still, I have this personal experience which I want to offer you as very important. In li- -- in living, we move on a frequency band of five different -- let me say: colors or wavelengths. And it is high time that in a civilization which knows so much about frequency bands, of sound, of rays, of colors, we should also mark out life itself as coming to us in different degrees of intensity.

And this is then what I would like to call a "vitality frequency band," which I now shall try to develop, simply on the basis of the fact that I have learned five languages in five different climates, or in -- on five different frequencies.

I am here on dangerous ground, gentlemen, for this reason: that teaching -- even teaching, even this in us, what goes beyond instruction, usually teaches what is known. Now I am here now telling you something which so far is new. Really new. It is not known. And that goes beyond -- usually beyond the business of the ordinary teaching. On the other hand, I think I would fail you if I wouldn't, in a real crisis of our modern thinking, not give you this, what I think

is an auxiliary to your own business. But I'm fully aware, gentlemen, that ordinary teaching means to repeat something which already is known.

Goethe, the German poet, has a terrible wor- - verse in which he says, "Don't teach anything original. Take mediocrity; it's a better teacher." There's a ter- -- great truth in this. In ordinary life, gentlemen, the vitality frequency is -- goes at best from the affectionate level on which I learned Italian and which is necessary for any teacher if he wants to meet the future teacher, the potential teacher in his friend, the student, from this affectionate level--I call it the affectionate climate in which I learned -- Italian; it goes down to the rational, individualistic, and then to the repetitive, organic, by -- in which -- the manner in which I learned English. Here -- you remember: this was the English, that was the French, and that was the Italian level.

Well, we can forget about my own personal experience. But it comes to this, gentlemen, that when I speak to a man about rules, and try to persuade him to follow a process logically, I treat him as an individual outside of me. Here you are, A and B. I try to convince you by logic, you see, so that your own mind can follow this process. Mind meets mind. This is what you think is the only climate in which learning proceeds. I call this, however, as I told you, the level of instruction. It's important, it's -- inevitable, it is your level, it is my level. But it isn't the only level in which we assimilate new truth, or old truth. The affectionate level is mutual. I cannot teach you if I do not receive back from you this feeling which I may now certainly say: that I never had a finer audience. It is a great privilege to teach teachers. It is, as I told you yesterday, the highest a man can achieve in teaching, if he's allowed to teach teachers.

So there must be something mutual. I receive an award from your presence. It is not that I give you, but it is my opportunity. Wherever this feeling develops, you are beyond the usual classroom atmosphere. There is a friendliness and an affection which carries then everything that is said on the individualistic level. Your mind works better when you are in sympathy with me, because it is easier to listen. It is for me easier to {teach}. That's so obvious. But usually people put this logically one side -- to -- side with the other, as though the affection was one thing, and the rational was another. They stand in a very definite relationship, gentlemen, of frequency. The affectionate level, let now -- us now call it very carefully "the mutual." And this would be "the individualistic." Here everybody is taken to be single. In a mutual relation, this doesn't exist. Between husband and wife, between friend and friend, between student and teacher, when the relation is at all lively, you see. Also between -- the colonel and his aide-de-champ, that's not -- not two individuals speaking. In- -- inside any one staff, the relation is quite different of a give-and-take. It's constantly enlarging what you can say to each other in a good staff, you see. It's a pole -- polar pro-

cess. You are two poles that have one ellipse. And therefore, it's constantly, you see, inc- -- in- -- increasing the intensity. It's a process, if you want to have a scientific comparison, of polarization.

This is always omitted in all your handbooks on education and on teaching. I had to find this in a long life all by myself against the -- all odds. This is polarization. This then would be the logic, you see, of rationalization, when you try to -- to prove something to another. That's what the mathematicians do, these poor devils.

Well, they're all half-crazy, the good mathematicians. They are all missing out on love, on affection, I mean. A mathematician is always in great danger. He is. I mean, I have many friends in this branch. And -- what they go through in their attempt to love or to be loved. Usually very bad luck.

Gentlemen, my report today was echoing--mark this well--the -- the -- the simplest state of life, the organic, is something that vibrates, that is rhythmic, that is repetitive, but it is still alive. And perhaps some of you have enough knowledge of their Church, and their Church history, to know that the old Church recognized this distinction by having a whole group of people before they were taken into -- as full members -- rational, individual members of the Church and were called "catechumen." And you have still the catechism as the remnant of this word. And "catechism" means to echo. That, most people don't know. The Church also has some very beautiful blessings of salt and water, in which it assumes that the -- the whole nature around us is not dead. But it cannot speak. It's something in between. The organic world of vegetation, the flowers, the animals, they can listen. I can speak to my horse, but my horse can't speak back to me. It is a catechumen. It can be catechized. It can be -- as you know when you train any animal, it can give back the rhythm. When I speak one way, the dog comes back, you see, and reacts in a certain manner. Our children do this in the same way, of course. This is the sphere of ritual, the sphere of repetition, the sphere of rhythm. All you have in -- are your discipline, your uniform of the saluting, you see, the ritual of service. Without it, there is no lasting order.

Our classrooms are -- have degenerated because men try to keep the classroom in one climate of objective communication, as you call it, you see. And there never was a living process beginning enthusiastically, begin- -- going to a mutual process of friendly polarization, then going into the rational persuasion of mi- -- the mind of this individual, you see, and finally allowing him to be immersed into a double rhythm, so to speak, in which this thing comes back to his mind, you see, in some or- -- as -- like any organic matter, in a process of circular motion, like the burden, the refrain of a song.

This musical way of learning is terribly important. At the end, we all must

know what we know in this organic fashion, you see. It can never begin that way; it is always the last, because when we repeat the doggerel, you see, we no longer think about its meaning. One time we have to face it, what it means, you see, but then it must stay with us, and be rem- -- memorized and remembered in a rhythmical way.

Now gentlemen, each time the human being that learns--your student--is treated by you as a different specimen, this is what you know: here is your student {A. B. Kelley}. You appeal to his mind. You are at a loss to find it. He is absent-minded. He's right. You cannot speak first to {A. B. Kelley}, to his mind, before you have spoken to {A. B. Kelley}. Instinctively, we all know this by calling this man by his name, and only later speaking to him about some rational thing.

This appeal, gentlemen, to the person -- to the personal, mystically, is -- has to precede all teaching on the level of the individual. Mr. {Kelley} must have answered and given you his nam- -- your name. There has to be established a minimum of mutuality before you can teach him. Gentlemen, our rational friends, our logician friends, our -- our psychoanalytical enemies, they say -- they say that there is no such phase. But names -- what is in a name? Gentlemen, when you speak, however, to Mr. {Kelley}, he rises far beyond the occasion of this hour. You acknowledge in calling a man by his name, his whole future, all his potentiality. And you create this potential-teacher situation, this potentialtrainer, potential-instructor situation in him, because all the mistakes he may make now in the last lesson, you see, do not outweigh and outrun the fact that you have given him his full name by which he has the right to live beyond this lesson. You give him a future when you give him his name.

These are simple things, and they -- most people think I am talking about mysterious things. We could know -- everybody could know these things. The churches--every religion on the earth--has been based on these experiences of the people, that you have to acknowledge these various climates. The first climate you have to create between people is that you assure them that they may enter the future beyond this moment in which you cope with them. Then they'll feel secure. Then there's peace of mind. And if you have given Mr. {A. B. Kelley} this peace of mind, that whatever happens in this hour he shall survive it, you see, then he can listen. Before, he is in the fear of the Lord. Anything can happen in this hour, you see. It -- can -- may break him, completely so. Of course he -- he can't listen to you, you see. He's afraid. He's overawed. And he is kept at a distance.

So gentlemen, this -- these two levels of behavior, which lie beyond the individualistic, the polarizing, and this to which I come in a moment--the enthu-

siastic--gives the person his full name. On the individual level, you would say anybody must grasp what I teach: A, B, C, D, in -- on the level of logical performance, you see. Take a mathematical equation of -- nobody is there in person, so to speak, you see. We are just there as mental machines.

So man changes--perhaps you use this term in your own mind to keep this, what I say, clear--changes his configuration in every frequency of the vitality spectrum. He is named in person in the first two climates of enthusiasm and affection. He is just mind, universal. He's replaceable, exchangeable, one like any other mind, on the level of individualistic behavior.

How about the rhythmical, when children sing a doggerel and dance around the holly bush? Well, they are members. That is the state of membership of an organic body. The kidney and the heart, everything moves in harmony. But none -- one of them has a consciousness of their own. They have a consciousness as a group, together. Song is always the best and clearest expression of the fact that there, membership is achieved. "He is a jolly good fellow." We sing this to mean that the man has not just a brain, but that he can be a member of the Kiwanis.

So gentlemen, we go beyond the -- below the level of the individual to membership, here. Any trainer of a team must create this membership instinct in the men he trains. Our bodies must move in such a harmony as teamwork. It's very much in demand today. And rightly so. This is all rhythmical, instinct. You can't describe why a man suddenly finds how his body should fit in -- on -- on the football -- on the playground, you see, into the whole team. He just does it.

And so we have three levels with which you and I have to deal daily. Membership level or organic level, which corresponds to the fact that we are organic substance, and be {reared like} plants. The rational level of the individual animal in us, the logical level, where you can deduce one step after the other; as a best example, mathematics. The affectionate level, of mutuality, where we give each other our names, and where a father and son, teacher and student, become better father and better student through every move -- a process of constant polarization.

If you ask yourself when most of you -- how many of you are married, gentlemen? May I ask this? Well, wonderful. So have you ever asked yourself how one becomes a father? Certainly not when the child is born. It's a very slow process. At first you are -- just act the -- the mother, I mean. The nurse. You take the child out in the perambulator, and you do the chores which your wife delegates to you. You are still just a second mother to the child. When do you become a father? Well, as soon as the child and you can call each other "Daddy" and

"Sonny." It's a mutual process. Your son makes you into his father. Or the thing is just on paper, you see. And mother and father certainly very often remain just second-rate mothers. I mean, they -- they -- they take over what the mother of the child leaves to them, the chores. If you wish to act the father, you -- the son must gradually experience what you are to him, what you can give. And every question he asks you makes you into more into the father.

A father is a man who can change his mind from love to his son. And that is a definition which I would like to offer to you in -- in enlarging on my definition of the teacher. The teacher is a pseudo-father, a second-rate father, the vicar of the father. He acts as a substitute. And I didn't wish to use the word "love" yesterday in defining the relation between teacher and student. Between father and son it is permissible, I think, to say. That a father is a man who can change his mind from love of his son. He is a tyrant who can't do this, you see. He is a pedant, a martinet. Any father renews his own insights in the light of what he learns his son needs.

I think every father has experienced this shock. And when the boy is 20, he has made quite an adjustment, suddenly to say that the son -- takes steps which at first the father, you see, can only tolerate by sheer endurance. Later, however, he may find that just the decision that hurt him most was most -- was the best decision of the son in the spirit of himself, that he represented more the father's spirit in his free and independent decision than all the worries of the father who would just prevent the boy from becoming a man.

What I'm saying at this moment, gentlemen, is that I have tried to place you as teachers clearly on the affectionate level. A teacher is a man who can change his mind. An instructor is not for this layer. You have to give the instruction. But you all know there is a limit to instructing. I mean, there is a point where you have to help a boy, and where you even have to write back to -- here to {Maxwell Field} that the instruction is mad, that they should -- change the book of instruction. In this moment, you act as teachers, because you are stung by the -- by the needs of the student, you see. And under the impact of your interest in your students, you say, "Do it differently. You must do something about this." I think this will come to -- every one of you, the opportunity to think up an improvement of the manual which you have to use. And you do it from this urge to be able to go on in this mutual relation to your student in a constantly increasing and intensifying manner.

This is only now the beginning. On these -- in these three climates of mutuality and polarization; of individualistic treatment and logic; and of rhythmical, catechetic, echoing, singing, musical, instinctive, organic teaching, we are the teacher, the instructor, and the trainer. If you can train into children a certain

rhythmical behavior, they know certain -- get a certain wisdom just into their members, into their limbs. And that's why we call membership of people in such a community with the very same term which we give to members of our body. It is something organic -- an organism is created. There's no doubt about it.

Gentlemen, this is still an incomplete frequency band. The spectrum which I have offered you corresponds to part of your life experience. And I can name them now.

The organic {matter} you find clearest expressed and isolated in yourself whenever we sleep. Sleeping man is breathing -- is even better, organic. He is -- you know, it's a growing stage; it's vegetative. We grow at night. And therefore the or- -- the sleeping stage is a very important part of our learning process, because in growing, of course, we assimilate most intensively.

So gentlemen, this situation, the organic situation of a student learning a language--from which I started--of your student being molded and in your hands by following ritual of discipline, of service, of saluting, of drill -- the drillground, these motions correspond to a definite climate, a definite state of aggregate: sleep. "To his own, the Lord s- -- gives it in their sleep." Sleep is not to be despised. Beware of sleeping pills. Try to sleep soundly yourself. "A man who cannot sleep"--you know, it's already in Julius Caesar--very bad: "Let people be around me who can sleep well," he says. In our over-enlightened century, sleep has not gotten -- received his dues. The Hindus, you see, are very {pronounced}. They think all wisdom is only given us in our -- in our sleep. The religion of the Hindus picked out this organic state and based every wisdom on yogi, you see, which is based on this sinking deep into sleep, because they felt that there is something substantially true about the fact that what you don't get in your sleep, you never get.

I only mean now to relate the learning process, gentlemen, to biological reality. This is the sleeping state of man; this is the wakening state of man, the way we are sitting here together, we are awake. But you know there is this higher state, the inspired state of love, of writing poetry to your sweetheart, of waiting for mail, of meeting a friend, of being enthused by a great piece of art. The arts are the wedding gown of our state of being in love. And we are all, if we are at all open to the Muses, if you can read a poem with -- you can delight in a painting, you are in a mood which has nothing to do with the critical mood of the rational individual, you see. But you enter there into this higher vitality frequency, which we would call the passionate, the affectionate, the being-inlove.

Again, this has been talked down by the analysts to such an extent that

people are ashamed of it. They say it's a "sex appeal," when you see a beautiful woman. It is a scandal, gentlemen. It is more than the -- the ordinary animal in us can experience. We are -- lifted up; we are on a higher frequency band when we are in love, when -- not sex, but a -- a part of the human race appeals to us as being already pointing the way to what we yearn for, what we desire. Our desires are on a higher ground than our reason. They -- people have tried to tell us that our desires are on a lower ground. I don't see this at all. By desire, I keep the power to change my mind. I keep it, you see, for the -- its worthwhile aims. Desire knows purpose. Reason has no purpose. It's just a machine. I can make the -- your computation machine--which they now call the "thinking brain," you know, and nobody laughs, this greatest laughter of the century, the --. No thinking brain in this, you see. No brain at all. It's a means to an end. If you know what you want to get out of the machine, you can get it out. But please, gentlemen, don't be seduced by the bigness of this machine of computation to think that it is more clever than you, who can give it purpose, and can set goals and targets.

-- Wherever we -- we can use means--get a mortgage to buy a house for your wife and yourself--the decision to get this house and the knowledge that you have to live with this one woman in one house, obviously precedes and outweighs by far all the tricks you have to play on the -- on Uncle Sam to get the loan.

So gentlemen, this is the realm of purpose, of ends. To be in love is an end in itself. To have a brain is a means without an end. You instruct people so they are willing to serve as officers. And when they are called by their name, "{A. B. Kelley,} Lieutenant Kelley, you fly this mission," that they know -- take all they know and put it into this mission, but they must be in love with their duty. They must be in love with the Air Force, and they must be in love with the plane and with their crew. And however you call it, you may not like the expression "be in love," they must be friendly; they must be affectionate; they must have this great, burning passion to do this.

This is so simple, gentlemen, so they -- the -- to be in love -- well, it's --. Or in nature. Look at the animals. It's a frenzy to go -- it goes beyond the wakening state. To be very careful, I would call it this uphill state of ours, because inertia there is then just a thing to be overcome. Anybody in love is -- untiring. If you are in love, you don't have to sleep. You rush down to where your sweetheart lives, taus- -- thousand miles from here, you see, spend the whole night there, have not one hour of sleep; next day you are on duty, and you don't feel it. You are not -- once this -- this -- this strange state of affairs is over, you see, you need your 10 hours' sleep again.

Gentlemen, there are two more stages in which -- an infrared of the frequency band of life, and an ultraviolet. The hypersonic, the ultra-ultra frequency of life, is when an emergency arises. That's the leadership situation of which so many people talk today, and don't know how to place it. They want to bury leadership in -- also in this, here on this frequency. Can't be done. It cannot even be done on this frequency, gentlemen. A leader can sacrifice his men. They must die. This is not one of affection, you see. You spare your wife. On the merely affectionate level, you see, there is not this higher necessity to which we have to go.

So gentlemen, calamity, catastrophe, a war, a revolution, a depression, a crisis, a famine begets ultra-frequency of vitality. You look for the man of destiny; you look for the leader; you look for the savior; you look for that power in us that can add a new quality to the life -- forms of life as they exist already. All the three forms of sleeping, wakening, and loving--the three forms with which every normal being in us is acquainted, and on which we mentally draw when we treat ourselves as teachers: affectionate; as instructors: rational, logical, you see; and as trainers: organic, rhythmical--all these three stages are contained on this frequency band of vitality by the fact that there is emergency. There emerges beyond the known at any minute a completely new situation, like the frontier, like the -- or Alaska Gold Rush, like the War. Anything totally unheard-of, all the powers not under our control. You can say that it is the realm from which the life, as it exists, is threatened, which begets this last and highest attitude of leadership and of saintly -- saintliness, in the operative way. Like fatherhood and motherhood in the normal state of affection, so you have on the highest level of calamity the suffering way and the acting way, to take the calamity.

The -- our tradition, our religious tradition has taught us that there is this higher level. Christianity is not an abstraction from which we do not have to speak in a -- in a -- in an instructor's, so to speak, business, gentlemen. Then it would be a luxury. Religion is no luxury, except when it is just meaning -- means going to church. That's ritualistic. That's religion on the organic level, you see, on the Sunday school level. Nothing to be said against it, but it is only the fourth level. But it enters any man -- any nation's life, and Bob Mitchell is court-martialed. He was out on a limb. Yet if there had been no Bob Mitchell, obvious- --is it Bill Mitchell, or Bob?

(Bill.)

Bill. Pardon me. When such a man appears, you can see that -- a dimension which in normal days of life doesn't exist, which is hidden away from your working day, and of which you do not seem to think that it should ever be mentioned. It's unpleasant. The whole court-martial of Bill Mitchell--whether Mac-

Arthur voted for or against it, in the court-martial; you know they say he -- he did acquit him--is a story which is usually not mentioned in normal teaching. It is not right, gentlemen. It should. You should teach your men that there are these exceptional situations which not always have a happy ending. Mitchell died, you see, a little too early to see himself justified. Without him, the -- the '20s and '30s would be really -- stand condemned in your branch of life, you see. In other branches, it's similar, you see, because it really -- it would mean that the -- a great country could treat the First World War as though it hadn't happened, which was the attempt that was made, you see, just to say that it was no education. People have -- tried in 1920 literally to say, "We don't have to be educated into what has happened. We don't have to be lifted up, you see, to this real place in our time." And this is therefore a tremendous accusation against our education.

I have made this accusation for the last 30 years with such a loud voice that I betray no secret that I--and I repeat it, here, gentlemen: it has been the churches, it has been the educational institutions themselves who have tried to, with their pacifism, by their -- by their -- disintegrating teaching to make the people -- believe that the First World War hadn't happened. That is, that it had -- would have no consequences. That we -- you see, this country went back. The other countries, by the way, exactly in the same manner. "Try to forget, try to forget." There was no "Lest we forget." And since this "Lest we forget," you see, was not said by teaching, ser- -- the leaders at that moment were left up in the air.

Woodrow Wilson died with the great speech predicting the -- bloodshed of the Second World War. You may have heard the -- his speech in 1920, it was just before he died. With a broken heart, and saying, "The fundamentalists -- are -- are right. The Cross is the only truth." Bill Mitchell is -- gets court-martialed, because everybody says he is just a boaster, a hoax, a hysterical man. Well, you may well be hysterical if you know calamity, and all the other people say, "It's all rational; it's all self-interest; it is all just -- nothing has happened."

Though what has happened over the last 20 years--that's why I have to bring this to your attention; I have tried to wake you up, gentlemen--is that people could live on this level of -- mere individualistic thinking and behavior, look at the world, and not being -- feeling that they are called for to share enthusiastically in the demands made on the whole of us as one common body of man who have to march into a very dangerous and unknown future. This is -- there the leadership problem comes in. There the newness of teaching comes in. The ordinary teacher has to tell you just--affectionately, you see--what has been known from generation to generation. But there has to be added something in every generation to teach. We call this "research" today. But again, research is nothing, gentlemen, what you think of, just what you get by plodding. A 10-year

project in research is not very promising, you see, because the enthusiasm is missing, you see, of the -- the one hypothesis, you see, which comes because you walk in the fields and an idea comes to you, and you say, "Let's -- let's try this." You don't get this by sitting in an office nine hours a day. Every general knows that he has to be able to have -- to -- to dismiss the routine of work from his mind, you see. Leadership, newness, new qualities of life enter you only in an -- like sparks, suddenly, like lightning. You have -- to expose yourself to this possibility that lightning can strike.

Now as I said, in this sphere of leadership, calamity can beget victims, martyrs--like Mitchell or Wilson--and it can beget leadership. You can have leadership when the other climates--the wakening, the loving, and the organic state of the -- your society--are connected, and there is still an electric current, there is still enough of the knowledge of calamity, of the crucifixion, of -- of martyr- -- of the necessity of sacrifice in the other three spheres of society of -- you see, so that they can hear when this, the leader comes. You can't be a leader when nobody wants to be led. There could be no leader in 1928 in this country, because everybody wanted to have two cars in his garage.

Leadership depends on the -- on -- on the organic substance which can be led. And there is -- that is your problem, gentlemen. You cannot for one moment, while you are instructors on campus, forget the fact that these boys, which are under your care, must remain connected, like the elements in an electric -- element, the -- the copper -- within the sulfur bath so that they can hear, be sensitized to what comes out of the open and unknown, and that they are ready to allow others to tell them so, to take heed.

On the other hand of the frequency band, gentlemen, there is a mechanic, the dead matter. I told you about Bulgarian. The last -- boys in your corps -- in your -- in your ROTC outfit, will be those who will just get by, by reading the book just a minute before the exam, you see, and have -- treat it mechanically. There is always this dead wood. This corresponds in -- in life to the mechanic state of affairs, the purely dead. We are today a little reluctant even to call iron "dead." We know it vibrates. It isn't total- -- the metals are not totally dead. They have a life of their own. Crystals have, you know. We are enlarging constantly our insight that dead is not quite dead. And we will -- probably come to the solution that we will -- have to create the comparative "deader," the "deadest."

In other words, gentlemen, it is -- the five -- the infrared of death, of deadness, of the corpse in us is less and less acceptable. Modern physicists will tell you that even the atom is not quite dead. They are enlarging the aspect of vitality even into the 20 percent of the spa- -- spectrum which so far has always been presumably dead. There is nothing, it still seems, completely dead in na-

ture.

However I want now to go into this: to analyze is to assume that that which we analyze may be treated as dead, as not talking back, as not being changed by my observation. If you catechize children in the Sunday school, you certainly treat them as only half-conscious, as half-alive. But you treat them as alive, because you want to make them participate. You make them into members. If you analyze these same children, you see, you do the opposite. Analysis treats its subject matter as dead. That's just an assumption. I can analyze a hero. A certain way of killing him in the memory of man, you see. Analysis is one way of coping with the universe on the -- with the assumption that at this moment I'm not a living part of it, and I therefore can eliminate myself from it, or eliminate it from my own life. It's a separation of what I call "to be alive" from the thing analyzed, which I treat, as in an anatomy of the corpse, as dead.

Now therefore I wish to add to membership, individual treatment, mutual treatment, enthusiastic treatment on this end, the word "atomistic treatment." Because gentlemen, when things are dead, they putrefy and they disintegrate. And we talk so much about disintegration, gentlemen--we mean by "disintegration" as far as I can make out, you see--that a thing falls down and gets deader and deader. To disintegrate means to fall into -- disintegrate into atoms, not into members, you see. Those parts of our body which, when we are alive, are mutual -- beautiful members of a living process, you see, become atomistic. This is very important, I think, for your mental- -- mind, that you should face the fact that analysis means to condemn the object which you analyze, to be considered as dead. There is nothing wrong with psychoanalysis, except that the relation between parents and children, through the analysis, is murdered, is killed. It's over, you see. The normal relation is denied. They tell you that if you -- if you want to sleep with your mother; you want to kill your father...

[tape interruption; end]