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(Philosophy 10, May 28th, 1954.)

I will try to convey to you the importance, or the fruitfulness, and the delight of one phase of the spread of mental -- mental work which you underrate, because you are antithetical to it, in the -- your whole makeup in this country. You remember that we said that France stood for the "I" of the first, of the beginner, or -- of the genius. And the scientific operations of a group of men was today at home in German scholarship. And the educational behavior of the gentleman who wears his education lightly is typical of England. And in America, we have everybody to represent the timid soul who says, "I don't know any better than you, but if you want to listen to my suggestion, I may in my stupidity and humility say to you that I think this is..." and listen to him for what it is worth. This is called the common-sense -- or commonplace attitude. And so you begin with a joke to invite the indulgence of the listener and all this rigamarole which you know of any American speaker, which is so very funny to anybody who hasn't grown up in this -- in this commonplace atmosphere, where nobody is -- dares to pretend that he is any better than anybody else.

Therefore gentlemen, education to you is constantly, so to speak, attacked and to be brought down to the common denominator of the commonplace. That is, what you consider denom- -- education is no long- -- is only as long tol- -- to be tolerated as it isn't a privilege. I tried to tell you last time, I think -- or was it in 58? -- that education is an attempt to have in -- a sufficient number of people in one community, trained in looking at their own life from the outside so that they may impart to the dozens and scores of men -- every one of the educated -- some tolerance and some understanding of a different frame of reference. That is, you can only in my estimation have a limited number of educated people in any community, because to educate means to endanger the intensity of -- community life.

I had a student here, a medical student who implored me not to educate him, because he was so intensely in with his folks, in -- in Nashua -- no, it was in Lowell. Lowell or Lawrence, I've forgotten. One of these mill towns, with all these minority groups there. He was so loved, and his father, too, that he feared that in a college he might lose this na‹vet‚ and this direct approach to his fellow man. And it was very touching to find such a fine boy who had felt that education would estrange him. He would have to speak a language which these boys wouldn't like to hear from his lips.

Gentlemen, I was very moved by this man, by the way he failed here in this

college, in the graduate school, in the medical school later. And he is still a friend of mine, and he's an excellent man. And I respect him for this deep feeling. He still knew the dangers of education. You don't know this, because you have this strange idea that every man in the humanity can get educated. But gentlemen, education is a process in the spread of ideas -- of new ideas, as I try to show you. And I'm obliged today to give you an example of this, which you may keep in mind, and which should remind you that education always is a privilege. You may hate privilege; then you can abolish education. But you cannot have education without making it a privilege.

Because, gentlemen, if you give something to everybody, it no longer moves. Anything that everybody has is commonplace. You may call it education, but it isn't education in the sense in which we try to -- show you that to educate means to stretch somebody out between his -- the past and the present and bring him to full consciousness of his own situation between different times. The natural man, gentlemen, lives only in his own time. The natural man says "me" and "I," and doesn't know anything of anything that happened before his birth and after his death, because he ta- -- thinks that everybody before and after lived like he. He has different facts. You know that there was -- a man, Christoph Columbus, who discovered America. But you na‹vely think that he was a man like you. He wasn't. He was a crusader who went to America in order to -- to enlarge the area of crusades.

Now you have to know what a crusade is. That takes you out of your own mind. Because Mr. Eisenhower certainly does not know what a crusade is, although he has booken -- written a book with this title, in the common sense of an American. But not with the proper sense of an educated man. Then he wouldn't have used this term, and he wouldn't have used in his election campaign the expression that he went on a crusade in this country. Because that's very dangerous, you know. Crusaders have burned the cities which they conquered and have killed the people whom they vanquished. Now I don't think that the president elected by the people of the United States is out to kill and to burn, and that's the condition of a crusade.

So the use -- the commonplace, the common-sense use of the term like "crusade," gentlemen, is quite a different sense -- way of using a term in an educated, or in a scientific, or in an ingenious sense, you see. It is just routine. And if you would pin down the president of the United States to his use of the word "crusade," he would laugh at me and say, "Don't be ridiculous. I never -- I could use another term," he would say. You see, it doesn't matter. And -- so you say. If I want to pin down any student to anything -- here, I have a bun- -- such a batch of terrible papers of philosophy -- well, it's all just in a roundabout fashion. No term really stands on its own feet. You say, "I may call this, this way; or might

call it other way." Common sense will never say that one term is necessary. You say -- you look in the -- dictionary of synonyms and you say, "I can use another term."

Now that is for you the squalid situation in which you -- all your garments are just bought from the rack. Nothing is made to order. Not one of your shirts, and not one of your ties is really your tie. That's how you wear your mental fashions. You see, it is uneducated. It is commonplace. And this college at this moment is just a place for having a good time, as you well know, and it's totally commonplace. It is not an education except in physics perhaps, and in chemistry, where you learn to shed a -- a number of -- of prejudices of your five senses.

For all the rest at this moment, I have to stress the fact, gentlemen, that education is a cataract, like the Nile Cataract. If you have the brilliant idea of a genius -- you remember what we said of Paracelsus, or of Goethe -- who says, "Society" -- Goethe and Saint-Simon said -- "must be made immune against physicists and mathematicians, because they freeze the heart of society. Let's go out and warm up these hearts of men who are made deadly cold by those physicists, those ammunition makers, those bomb fabricators."

Then at first, everybody -- runs away; let them die in starvation; despises them if they don't find a good woman who loves them just the same, or a disciple who -- who -- who saves them from -- from perishing ingloriously. And at this moment, I try to tell you that the real social science is prevented by you, because you only believe in natural science. You are the stumbling block of the progress of the human race. That's not your fault, but you just are lying in the -- in the -- in the middle of the road, as a roadblock, because, gentlemen, this is a movement which takes place over long periods of time. And I tried to intro- -- inflict in -- on you a great awe for the slowness and the certainty, and the timing of this process. And I have tried to show you, without any success, I'm sure, that these processes take their appointed time. That this working from Anselm of Canterbury and Ab‚lard, the -- the two alone, to Luther and Melanchthon, who make it the commonplace of every believer, you see -- this takes 400 years.

Now today I have to try to show you, gentlemen, that in education, we have a middle ground. It's not the first stage. It's not even the second stage. It is a phase that lies between your existence as commonplace people, and the scientific state of exploration by the few. We -- said, the whole story goes: one, a few, many, all. You remember? And we also said: lifetime, or the whole life, what we today call one's whole existence, what the French -- know so well, from birth to death, here; professional time -- we have no word for this. We call "lifetime" when a man chooses his profession. That's -- but that's wrong. That isn't his whole lifetime. Then we have your four years in college, some -- some time. And common-

place, next to no time.

That is, you have the ideal that what can be known and what is valuable should be made available within five minutes by putting a dime into a jukebox. That's your ideal. You turn on television. There you have it. You have nothing, but you think you have something. What you get is Mr. Stevens.

Gentlemen, your idea is that life can be shortened. Now the life of the human race, gentlemen, the life of history cannot be shortened. The epochs and the length of time that it takes to penetrate your thick skin, that is predestined and quite independent of you, just as the flowering of New England or the growth of an orange on a tree. You cannot, without great damage, change the nine months during which a child has to be born in the mother's womb. If you try to break it, you have to put the baby in an incubator.

Now you try to think this is not true. You see, at the end of the mechanic age in which you live, in the end of this scientific age of which you boast, you have really tried to make life quicker, faster all the time. Therefore even your soul, and your mind, and your own growth you think you can accelerate. The end of this era sees all the horrors of a child -- children prodigy, as you know. People who are sent to school far beyond -- before their age. I think we have talked about this. You remember when we talked about the 10 commandments of education. I tried to tell you: you cannot accelerate the growth of a child. You cannot make a child doubt when it is two years old. It first has to pass through 20 years of listening, you remember, reading, learning, and playing. And a man who hasn't played becomes a Hitler.

Therefore, gentlemen, what I'm trying to explain to you with the personal example of two men who stand for this education, has a very practical application to your self-consciousness, although you are at this moment in an American educational institution. I have this great difficulty trying to tell you that what you consider education is not what in general has to be understood by education. You are, at this moment, in an -- institution that has given in to your fervent desire not to be educated. And it has surrendered. I told you that you neither have the Bible nor the classics at the foundation of your education. Therefore you have no education.

It doesn't take you outside yourself, outside your own time. It doesn't give you any future. It gives you only current events. That you call these current events "Great Issues" makes them not into anything but mem- -- mem- -- particles of your own momentary existence. If you wanted to be educated, you would have to know everything from Adam, and you would consider seriously the destiny of man in the year 5000 of our era. And you wouldn't be hurried. And you would

know that you will have to work for goals and aims that lie far beyond your own lifetime. I ask you seriously, gentlemen: has any one of you at this moment considered any kind of work whi- -- of which the fruit will only be visible in 2050? You haven't even considered the possibility of such a work.

It would sound foolish to you. To me, you sound foolish, because you don't have such aims. The Puritans who came in this country certainly were serious people, because they couldn't think of anything but a hundred years from their own time. And they were -- therefore bore fruit, and you are their fruits. But you? All you want is to know that you get a pension. That's very little. Or that you make a pile, and make a fortune.

Gentlemen, these are all aims of a completely common-sense character. They have nothing to do with the great circulation of thought in which you would become a member of a marching army, of a campaign in which you would know that any campaign consists of first getting the troops together; mobilizing them; then developing, you see; and deploying, as it is called; then attacking; defending; retreating; re-attacking. It's a long story, you see, of disappointments, of defeats, before you can win. But you are so impatient, you want to have it all in mathematical, straight lines. Your life is -- you may -- mapped out, hour by hour, and you can get it, gentlemen. But what are you, then? A cog on the wheel. Your life runs in a straight line and doesn't circulate, like the spirit -- life of a spirit. But it's mostly uninteresting. It's a mechanical idea. You can predict everything about your dig- -- digestion 10 years from now. But is your digestion your life?

So will you see this paradox? One, few, many, all. In inverse ratio, the time element. I remember -- I have told you all this before. The time element. No time, some time, much time, all time. So you see the inverse ratio. Christ was a Christ -- Christian from the cradle to the grave. You are a Christian occasionally, because there are so many Christians, that you think it can be done five minutes a week. Very simple. The first Christian obviously had to do -- be it totally and completely. That's why Christianity has to celebrate Christmas, to make it quite sure to show that even the Child already was part of the story, that you cannot cut it out, that He didn't make at one time the decision to be a professional Christian, gentlemen. That would be just a minister, you see. But that -- obviously is not the man who is at the same time a layman and a priest, as Christ obviously intended to be, and is understood by everybody.

You can study in His case very clearly these -- these phases, gentlemen. The lip-service Christian is a five-minute Christian, the commonplace -- Christian.

Now, once you understand this, you will give this third place 150 years in any one of the three cycles. We are far from this in the social sciences. We have

reached it, I think, in your education in physics and -- and chemistry, for the natural sciences. And we have reached certainly the common-s- -- -place today in religion, in theology.

I'm going to talk now about the phase in the theological cycle in which every man in Europe who could get an education got more than just commonplace, but was really trained in the considerations of the medieval circulation of thought, and its cycle. Gentlemen, the two men I want to introduce to you are Thomas a Kempis, or -- put in brackets: Gerhard Groote. Or again, the problem of -- of a crayon. Put it this way. Because the real person is this man, and the -- the veneer under which it is sold to the public is this man, Thomas a Kempis, Gerhard Groote.

So, you have to -- also to know the da- -- lifedates of two of these men for your better understanding of the whole situation. That is, Gerhard Groote is 1340 to 1384, and Jean Gerson 1363 to 1429. Now 1429 is the year of Ste. Jeanne d'Arc. You may know this. So it is a con- -- a year -- very easy to go -- keep in mind for any lover of France. These four men have very much to do with each other. And strangely enough, they to this day have to do something with you. You don't know this, gentlemen, but Jean Gerson is the inventor of the grammar school. Now that's an important item in our story. He's the inventor of the grammar school. He died after he had written a pamphlet how to teach the little children the three Rs. And he had this great idea that every child in christendom should go to school.

This was in the last years of his life, when he was in exile. Before -- I go backward. I begin with Gerson. Before, he was the mightiest scholar in christendom. Before, he said it is more important to teach the children than these damn students and the Ph.D.'s. He was the chancellor of the University of Paris. And he presided at the great cou- -- Council of Konstanz in 1415. He was present when Jan Hus was condemned and handed over to the secular -- power to be burned at stake, the predecessor of Luther. The great Bohemian leader, Jan Hus. He also was in the chair of the council when they deposed two popes and forced the election of another. That is, Jean Gerson is the great man -- you may say the Einstein of his time -- in theology. What Einstein is to physics and mathematics. He was the undoubted authority in all matters of theology. And he had to exercise it far beyond his pleasure. He was engaged in the reunification of the Church, because all these -- in his times, gentlemen, the terror was: there was more than one pope. There were in his own days three popes at the same time. And all Christianity was rent to pieces, because the good Christians who wanted to be good Christians, you see, just didn't know where their obedience was lying. It's very much like a Republican -- today who doesn't know whether he should love Eisenhower or McCarthy more. It's a split; it's a schism. The techni-

cal term for this is "schism."

So gentlemen, in this schism of Christianity, of the Church, the educational problem, which is burning, because they said -- the priests, the theologians are split. They are without authority. We have to go now deeper down to the rank and file to get educated people everywhere, because the upper, you see, can't swing it. We have to get now peace into the hearts of men who are holding their own and every little parish of the land. {It all} was a very providential story, obviously, that Gerson, this inventor of the grammar school idea -- stands towards Groot.

Gerhard Groot, and Thomas a Kempis, the other names I have put there, was little bit like Melanchthon and Luther. You remember Luther was the man who became a layman. And that Melanchthon, 15 years -- born 15 years later, was able to say how all laymen should be instructed. The relation of -- between the two on the commonplace level was: one does it in his own person. And the other resumes and theorizes what the consequence of this event is for the life of everybody else, of all other laymen. It's a very -- that's why I expressed to you last time this difference of 15 years, which enabled Melanchthon already to size up Luther's action and to formulate it in his book, The Commonplaces of Theology, And in his school agenda, and all his other achievements by which theology became commonplace to the rest of the world.

In the same sense, gentlemen, Gerson draws the conclusion of a life of tremendous impact which had been lived before, and with which he came in contact on the Cou- -- at the Council of Konstanz. You must take down these fact: there are no books. A -- a Catholic, Dutch priest during the war years has published this in Dutch, in a number of articles and investigations in the academy of Amsterdam, the Academy of Sciences of the capital of Holland. And most people in this country don't read Dutch, you know, and -- despite the -- that the name -- the fact that the name "Roosevelt" is Dutch, and "Harlem" is Dutch, nothing more is Dutch in this moment in this country. And certainly Dutch books, which are very good, I assure you, are completely unknown. I tried to hunt up the other day a -- an outstanding Dutch book on science and it was not in one library of the United States. I had to buy it from Holland, although it had appeared in two editions in Holland within the last 20 years. We are cut off from Holland. But Holland is still a little more advanced than we are in many things, and -- especially in the things of the spirit.

And so this man -- this Dutch clergyman has published this number of investigations which has remained completely unknown and unused in this country for the last 12 years. Only to show you what can happen in this modern world. You must not think that knowledge is known. Most what -- of the things that

should be known are not known.

Now he proved in a very splendid manner that -- that when poor Jean Gerson -- Gerson is his name, as he called himself; his real name was Charlier -- who lived from 1363 to 1429, when he was 40 and 45, and went to these various councils in Pisa, and Vienna, and -- Vien- -- and finally in Konstanz, on the Lake of Konstanz in the south of Germany, at the border of Switzerland and Austria, that -- he was shown by pious people a manuscript, and deeply impressed by it, because it gave the experiences of one individual who had ceased to be a theologian, and had ceased to be a priest, a monk, and had preferred to become a layman. So he had lived the life advocated now by the school reformer, Gerson, who said, "All children who go to grammar school are really my parishioners. I must make them into Christians, and I must forget the upper 10,000, the highest of the -- the -- the leaders."

This man, who had lived this was Gerhard Groote, the founder of the li- -- uni- -- Brotherhoods of the Common Life, as they are still known. Has anybody been in Belgium? Have you seen Bruges? The city of Bruges is filled with these wonderful buildings of the {Beghines}, of the sisters and brothers of the common life. And if you ever -- have an opportunity to go to the -- Europe, don't go to the Ritz, or to the Carlton. But go to these places where you see the 15thand 14th-century life of the laity, of the end -- at the end of the Middle Ages. It's the flowering of Gerhard Groote's idea. That's the man's name. Groote. You have to be careful to use the "e" at the end, because there is a famous Gerhard -- Groot, of course, the -- the jurist later, Grotius, who is we dis- -- also a Dutchman. But he is not the same man. He lived 300 years later.

Gerhard Groote. Now the story of this man is perfectly fantastic. The manuscript, which influenced Gerson like a revelation, gives the story of his first experiences, when he turned away from the years of his studies as a student in Paris. This boy of very rich parents was the Nelson Rockefeller of his generation, I suppose, or something like that. That is, he was then a -- richest heir in Holland. And he went to Paris and indulged in every -- in every jubilation and exuberation you could have. We hear from -- himself that there was not a girl in Paris which he did not possess. And he also says that he had -- underwent the ceremony of trepanation; you know, the old, tribal ritual here of having made two holes into his skull, so that he might commune with the devil more easily.

And so there was -- he was an alchemist. And he tried to bewitch people. He knew witchcraft. And he was the Faust -- you have heard this man -- this name; he was the Faust of his day. Gentlemen, Faust is not inven- -- an invention of Goethe. But Faust comes right down -- since there was a University of Paris, the people also, of course, did wrong. All the students at Paris were not all students

of Ab‚lard, or Bona- -- Bonaventura, or Thomas. But most of them, of course, were babes just like you. They did the other way. They tried to get by, and they flunked their exams, and had a very good time on the other hand. And they gradually created this other world of -- of earthliness. And Gerhard Groote was no exception.

He was so steeped in all these superstitions, and all these abuses, as I said, and these obscenities, that it became too much. He also used the -- the status of affairs with his wealth to buy a number of {prepends} in the church. He was at the same time deacon in Aix-la-Chapelle, and in Deventer and Zwolle in Holland, and he finally woke up to the fact that he had abused his -- his privileges as a rich boy by buying these forbidden combinations, you see, of different offices in a church, of which of course not one you -- could be provided by him, really, which were just sources of income and wealth; and that he had abused his body and his mind, and his pretenses of studying theology.

And he went to an old friend, who had been his co-student. And I mention this man; and he's quite important in our story, too: Henry of Calcar, who was an -- an abbot on the Nether Rhine, Lower Rhine. And there was at that time no boundary between Germany and Holland. It was all one. Didn't exist any difference. Holland was just a part of the -- of the Lower Rhine Valley. And so he went to Calcar. Calcar -- there's a famous poet -- poem in German on Kalkar, because Kalkar means "spur." And a famous German general also came from Kalkar. Famous cavalry hero, so it's a very good name for a place to be -- have the name "spur," and then give birth to a general of the cavalry. But the same may be said about this base Calcar, because it spurred Gerhard Groote to {reach} a -- a -- quite a new level of Christian life.

For the first time, gentlemen, in -- in Gerhard Groote, the layman's Christian life becomes preferable to the priest's or the monk's Christian life. These Brethren and Sisters of the Common Life, as they were instituted by Gerhard Groote, deliberately said, "We will not become or- -- be ordained. The good life has not to be aspired by our being set aside as clergy, but by remaining in the world as laity." And in this sense, you see, these Brethren of the Common Life anticipated the Quakers of later days, and the Baptists of later days, and the whole Reformation. And therefore, they are also a -- very important in the history of the Church.

Now Gerhard Groote was brought up short by Henry von Kalkar to this fact that his only way of conversion was to cease to pretend to be a priest or a theol- -- student of theology. He was -- become -- became conscious, gentlemen, that he had abused these two positions already, and that a man cannot be cured, gentlemen, by using the same means which he has defiled. I know many philosophers who should give up philosophizing. Instead of -- they go on and -- invent-

ing the next philosophy, and of course they become sicker all the time. Most people, as you know, cure their own devil by driving out, you see -- how do you say the devil? -- by "Beelzebub," don't you? And they all -- and this is the general practice of most people. People who read too many books, and read another book about not reading books. That doesn't help. Obviously not reading books makes it necessary that you should do something quite different from reading books.

But it is a strange rule you can find that -- we have now these existentialists, Mr. Heidegger, who drives out philosophy by philosophy, you see. He says, "All other philosophies are worthless, but I'm an existential philosopher, so I talk all the time on being." His only cure would be if he would not now philosophize. But this he doesn't know.

So Gerhard Groote had this father confessor, which Mis- -- whom Mr. Heidegger unfortunately does not have, or Mr. Sartre. And so Sartre and Heidegger remain in their self-made hell, whereas Groote got out of it. Groote was told by Henry of Calcar that if he wanted to show that he had a sense of values, he had to -- stop posing as a theologian, or as a -- a priest, but he had to find a new substitute. And so you see, educating -- education is not unoriginal. Education is a renunciation to your own creative authority. The educated man is not in the same type of authority as Mr. Einstein is, or Mr. -- any leading scholar, you see. People don't come to him to form a school -- to the educated man, but -- a scholar can have the great pleasure of founding a school.

I had to read today 20 papers unfortunately in -- who all assume -- or the authors of which all assume that Mr. Niebuhr -- was their authority. There you see Reinhold Niebuhr can be an authority in Dartmouth College because he belongs to the realm of the second { }, you see. If he were just a gentlemen, an educated man, he could be loved and liked, but he couldn't have the same influence on the minds of students at Dartmouth College. Is that clear?

So it is a -- a kind of self-denial, which Gerhard Groote put upon himself. He bought a house in Zwolle, and later in Deventer, and today you see it in Bruges, and gathered people to live with him the -- a day of work -- a daily life of work and worship, and reading the Bible, and contemplation without the assumption that they had to preach or to teach others.

Now for a man of his means, of his background, this was a tremendous conversion, you see, because he cert- -- certainly limited his sphere of activities from the wide world of Paris. He also went to Prague, by the way, in Bohemia, and traveled to -- living in one community devoutly, you see, and resignedly. And he wrote a book on his experience.

And now all I have to say about his -- the circumstances of his life are overshadowed by the story of this book. Because gentlemen, without your knowing it, you all have, directly or indirectly, been in contact with this book. Very few of you will not have. It is still inescapable to find this book somewhere on the night table -- the bed table of a lady in New England, or even in Wisconsin, because it is the only book of the Middle Ages, gentlemen, the only one which has defied the rift between Protestantism and Roman Catholicism. And that's why it's such an important book. It is called The Imitation of Christ, and it goes under the name, Thomas a Kempis. Who has heard of this book before, The Imitation of Christ? Well, I'm glad to see that it's really true. And the others might have heard of it. And suddenly you find somebody in your family who has heard of it.

The Imitation of Christ is written in a strange manner. The idea of the first two books -- it's the diary of Gerhard Groot's first year in the convent after he had retired from his worldly life. The idea of writing it in plain, modern cla- -- or humanistic Latin and not in medieval Latin obviously goes back to Henry of Calcar. And since Gerhard Groote was considered such a great sinner and had to step back from the eye -- out of the eye of the public, under the -- in -- in -- instruction of his friend and teacher Henry, the editing of the book was entrusted much later to Thomas a Kempis. How much later you can see from the fact that Thomas a Kempis reached a ripe old age of nearly 100, but only died in 1471. Now you see this is the story. In 14- -- in 1371, Gerhard Groote entered this monastery of Henry of Calcar. The man whose name is today connected with the book is a man who died in 1471, and in these hundred years, this education of the Christian laity all over Europe then happens.

When Gerhard -- when Gerson read this book and became so impressed that he acted upon it -- you see, he is born 20 years after Gerhard Groote. It was not yet edited by Thomas a Kempis. It was just in manuscript form, but it already impressed him, just as Luther was the impressive instructor of Melanchthon. So at the councils of the Christian Church, the -- this manuscript made the rounds. And everywhere these communities of the Brethren and Sisters of the Common Life then came into being. But the glory of the authorship of this book was kept from Gerhard Groote for very practical reasons. We can assume, that since Gerhard Groote had been such a profligate, that it was very dangerous and very risky to publish a book of devotion, you see, and church discipline under his name. You know how long it takes to live down a prejudice once aroused. That he had become very pious would not have made any difference. People would still have said, "Oh, that's this profligate, this rou‚," you know, this man who was in with -- with Sigmund Freud in Paris.

And so obviously his brethren, and his instructor, and he himself said, "This must not go out under my name." And at first it must have circulated anony-

mously, just as the texts of all the people who had this new way of life at heart. And then Thomas a Kempis added some stylistic improvements and gave to the book this incredibly conciseness -- incredible conciseness. If you read Thomas Aquinas, Imitation of Christ, Julius Caesar, and Cicero, and St. Augustine write a very clumsy style, compared with his. His is as simple as the Gospel. And you see the Gospel also comes at the end of Greek, the history of Greek. And so The Imitation of Christ is, so to speak, the shortest Latin, the most -- simplest Latin ever written. And -- that's -- was very important for the success of this book in the world at large. And you still read in English translations now The Imitation of Christ because not only of the content, but -- also because of its perfection in style.

And so you see three people have cooperated to produce this miracle, that there is one book in christendom which has nothing to do with your nice divisions in Roman Catholics and Protestants, which defies this division as these laymen defied it. You can see how a layman in 1450, who lived in this Common Life centers, with prayer and meditation, from your point of view is neither a Protestant nor a Catholic. You cannot decide this, you see, because he lives a good life, despite the schism of the Church, despite there -- the upper people, the three popes, you see, and the two councils and so, are at war. And he says, "That's not for me. I concentrate on my devotion here," you see, "and I don't mix up with these partisanships in the upper ranks."

And this is the deepest secret, gentlemen, of the Reformation, that there went before an education. And the deepest secret of Harvard and Dartmouth, that there went before Oxford and Cambridge. If you want to understand the relation of Luther to Gerhard Groot, then think of the relation of Dartmouth College to Oxford and Cambridge, you see. It is not the same, but it -- one is hardly thinkable without the other. You can understand that. We have done something different in this country with the college, but without Harvard and Cambridge as educational institutions for the upper society in England, we wouldn't have now this commonplace liberal arts college for 4 million Americans in 1960.

That's one story I had to tell you. And so you see, it's very miraculous how these people are interwoven. And all the time I have tried to tell you, gentlemen, that the peace of society depends on this unity of spirit between people who speak, and say, and write different things. I have tried to show you that an elder, and a fighter, and a child must never say the same thing. But they belong to each other, and they are the same man in his various stages, you remember.

And now we come back to this fact in all these phases of the greater life of the whole of the -- mankind, gentlemen, not one of these four men had the same life. Henry of Calcar was just an abbot in his monastery, you see, a conservative,

good man. Gerhard Groote was washed with all the waters of the Seine River, and that isn't very clean. And Thomas a Kempis then was just a man loyal to the things he found. And Jean Gerson was a leader of men, a president of the world really, at that time, of the United Nations, you may think -- or more than that -- very powerful, with heavy responsibilities, and yet he found time during his sessions at the council to read this book and to say, "This is it." And then to go about it and open the way for everybody, you see, by founding the first grammar school in Lyons, France, and abdicating all his dignities, stepping down from his chair, you see, at the University of Paris, and his chair at the Council and saying, "I -- never again. That's -- I'm -- that's behind me."

Now you remember John Quincy Adams, you remember -- those who have written on him -- how great it was when he became member of Congress after he had been president. With this you can compare Jean Gerson, who is president of the Council of Konstanz, you see, and presid- -- chancellor of the university, and then becomes just the founder of a grammar school, far away from any center of the Christian world at that time.

Let me say now -- and that's the end -- bring this together, gentlemen, with the problem of the next phase in the social sciences. This is still far from being achieved. You remember, we had these two forerunners or founders. Who are these people here, whose dates I have put down?

You have to know this in your sleep, gentlemen! You must learn that such years are life. They are not just dead. They are not just mathematics, gentlemen. They are your own pulse; they are the rhythm of that s- -- that dance inside of which you have to perform. Who are these men?

(Goethe and Saint-Simon.)

Wie?

(Goethe and Saint-Simon.)

Who comes first? Who is the upper here?

(Saint-Simon.)

Ja. Saint-Simon. Well, I'm glad. { } In the next course, we'll only talk through biographical dates.

We have now to point out, gentlemen, when social science will be a science. I told you that we have today sciences of society, but they are all ruled by the

superstition that they are in fact natural sciences. The -- our sociologists deal with questionnaires, and statistics, and they deal with psychological experiments, and with needles, or with the graphs, or with all kind of -- of things which presuppose that the scientist is a doctor, a physician of society, and that the others are his customers, his patients.

Now we tried to see -- say at the very beginning: society contains the sociologist, the social scientist. And therefore the scientist himself is at best a corpuscle of the bloodstream of this society. He can never be called a physician, because he's not outside the society. If you cure the body politic, my dear man, you -- cure it because perhaps you are a medicine, but certainly not because you are a prescribing doctor, because the doctor himself is the product of the society and goes on to live in this society.

Now that's your first superstition. If you ask most sociologists today in this country, they really think that they are doctors of society, physicians. And -- by this you can test them and say, "Then you aren't the man for whom we are waiting. You misunderstand your task. You are still in the old academic cycle, because you say `I' and `it.' And you treat me as `it,' as `they,' as things, you see, and you observe me, and try to predict what I'm going to do," you see. Take on all the predicters in this country, you see. They are natural scientists. And to a certain extent, we behave, you see, like stones, by gravity. And you can predict my laziness, of course, with a certain probability, you see. I can predict that -- so many pers- -- people -- students in -- when cutting classes was introduced, of course, we had no illusions about the result. We said, all -- everybody knew in the -- at the -- on the faculty that 50 percent of the students would take advantage of this right to cut to an -- in -- in an unmoderate degree at first, because that is predictable, because -- and this far as human laziness goes -- you are inert mass. And I am, too. You offer me an opportunity between work and not-work, then I prefer not to work, at first. You see, it's the first reaction. It isn't the second, with most people, you see, strangely enough. As you well know, it is equally great, the temptation to -- to work and not to work. But at your age, I suppose -- the temptation is greater to -- if you are told that it makes no difference whether you go to class or not -- or go not to class, that you will say, "Well, let's try how is it not to go to class." Isn't that true? That's physics, you see.

And Saint-Simon himself, gentlemen, believed that this could be a -- what he called a natural politics, or a natural sociology. And up to his -- 60th year, he -- as I have told you, he was steeped in the idea that he could persuade the mathematicians and the physicists to help him. That he and they together would work out some treatment of society. Only later became he aware that he had to use quite a different method.

So the distinctive method of the social sciences, first of all, we know now, cannot be that of the natural sciences, that of mathematics. We have already made s- -- other progress. We have also seen that the underlying dogma of the natural scientist is that everybody understands movement. You cannot talk to the layman or to the expert on physics, or electricity, or anything in nature, if he doesn't know and has not experienced what movement is. And he does know this, because his heart, I suppose, beats, and his feet move, and his arms. He knows what breathing is. Therefore he knows movement. He knows even more. He knows rhythm and many other things, but of this, the physicists try not to make use. Although when they talk of waves, they already appeal to your sense of rhythm. Again, a wave cannot be conveyed to anybody without a primary experience in every human living being, you see. Rhythm is empirically known. It cannot be deduced really, proven to the -- to -- to you if you have never felt a rhythm, you see. I can talk to you about this like the -- you see, and you would be like the blind to whom I talk of colors.

So gentlemen, we have -- we could broaden perhaps this wide field of naturali- -- dogma of natural presuppositions, but certainly movement is the minimum presupposition without which no person can dabble with science. And movement is irra- -- irrational. You must know this, you see. Nature can never be rational, because movement is an irrational experience already highly compo- -- composite. And when people tell you they are rationalists and scientists, don't believe it for a minute. They are just as dogmatic about their presumption as we all are. You make presum- -- assumptions; I make assumptions. And the main point is only to agree on the central assumption. But you can't debate with people who say, "I make no assumption." That's hopeless. And these human beings in this country who always say, "I am just a human being," they are undebatable fools, because these human beings always tell you that they make no assumptions. And they don't know what they're talking about, and they just try, and they just observe facts. Idiotic. They make tremendous assumptions. They make assumptions that they can speak. They make assumptions that you can understand what they say. They make ass- -- make assumptions that they have been exposed to the right experiences so they can know the truth and hand it over. It's incredible, the number of assumptions these -- these good human beings make. But they don't want to know that they make assumptions. And so they pose as these common-sense people who say, "I'm just poor me, and I really know nothing, and will you forgive me for existing? And on the other hand, I'm quite sure that I'm right."

You and I, if we want to judge the progress of the social sciences must know then the assumptions on which these various scientific cycles rest. We said that the theological cycle rests on the assumption of authority. And therefore I now give you the key sentence which the medieval thinkers themselves put into the

center of their university life. You remember St. Augustine's sentence? In {necessariis} unitas; in {dubiis} libertas; in everything charity, in everything -- caritas -- in omnibus caritas. Now add to this the following sentence, gentlemen: any medieval schoolman, since he began his day with prayer and the invocation of the divine name -- you remember what we said with regard to the universals, that all these people knew that they had to invoke God not by a name of an idol, but as the living father of mankind. They said, credo ut intelligam. That is, I have prayed before I can understand. I have already been taught names of men, and God, and world, before I now can make a system of theology about it, or philosophy, or law.

So that is the medieval, famous sentence, gentlemen: "I believe, so that I may understand." This would unite Anselm, and Ab‚lard, and Gerson, and Luther and Melanchthon. They all could subscribe to this sentence, that first a child has heard how to move his lips, then it can doubt. Doubting is the fifth stage of the 10 commandments, is it not? And you cannot doubt if you have not lived before the life of a faithful, you see, obeying, and listening child. You all are in this boat, whether you like it or not.

Descartes, the founder of the science of the new cycle -- the second cycle, objected to this sentence very strongly. He suppressed, as he literally said, as best he could, the four first commandments of education. Cartesius -- I'll give you his name and dates: 1599 to 1650, said literally, "If I only could forget what they have told me in the first 20 years of my life, if I could only be a semantic blank, and begin all over, then I would be able, you see, not to be haunted by doubts, but to think clearly from a good starting point."

This is the personification, gentlemen, of the natural scientist. You have never found a greater expression than his obstinacy, his recalcitrance to -- to admit that the people did well by him. I think they did, because he was a genius, and obviously he got a very good education. But he declined to accept this, and he said, "I begin from scratch." And in order to express this -- his attitude, you have here the "thou" and the "thee" of the child in this sentence. And in Descartes' sentence, you have the famous -- you have heard of this stupid sentence, Cogito ergo sum. It is stupid, gentlemen, because life here begins with "I." "I think, therefore I am." Who has heard this sentence? Well, we talked about it { }. Cogito ergo sum. This means that the fifth commandment is put in front. The adult can doubt. "I think you are wrong." If they -- you write this with a capital letter, then life begins with your own consciousness. It does not begin with the people who have prepared you for becoming conscious. That's, you see, the complete, different approach. You begin where you break in, and where you say "no" to somebody else's sayings. So the Cogito ergo sum is not just only cogito, gentlemen, "I think." But it means, "I can say no, therefore I am," because there is no cogitare or

cogitation that -- without going back and forth and saying, "This is" or "This is not."

The fruitful doubt, gentlemen, of sciences, of Mr. Descartes, is so fruitful because he said at the same time, "This may be or it may not be, and let me find out." So you understand. You have to translate into good English this sentence, "I can say `no,' therefore I am." I want you to understand that literal translations don't -- don't explain to you the fullness of such a sentence. In these three words, Cogito ergo sum, the man who can defy tradition comes into his own. You -- what you call yours- -- you call yourself an individual, without knowing what you are saying. An individual is certainly a man who can say "no." As long as he can't say "no," he's just a mass man, is he not? He becomes an individual at that very moment where he can definitely say, "Not I," "Not me," you see. Before, you have not risen to the height of an -- real individual, because you are undistinguishable before. You run, you see, with the -- with the rest of the -- of the horde. Cogito ergo sum.

Now gentlemen, our new science has no use for either one of these two sentences, because it must include the scientist himself, the social scientist. And the scientist is obviously a man who is excited over the state of society, and feels that his thinking now is needed to change that society, that if he doesn't think about slums, there will be no slum clearing. If he doesn't think about -- sex, there will be no improvement on sex relations. That if he doesn't think about education or the League of Nations, you see, they -- they cannot reach their goal.

So gentlemen, the first thing you have to admit in the social sciences is that they imply the possibility of change. And we have therefore to look for this great fact that this scientist, who deals with living beings, and is himself as a living being must include the fact that these living beings, because he now thinks about them, begin to change. You see, for a hundred years, the anti-Semites have told the Jews that they all were usurers. And they never did a good -- a thing with -- by their hands. So all now in -- in -- in Palestine, you see, are digging the earth and planting citr- -- citrus trees, and are all farmers, agriculturists and mechanics to pro- -- just to prove that what the sociologist has said about them is all wrong.

Any human being, gentlemen, to whom you speak about his social role has the right to shift, and to say, "Good night. This is all over." Like the American people who, after Mr. Gallup had said that they had to elect Mr. Dewey, said, "That's the only thing we are not going to do." So you know all the editorials who appeared in 1948 about -- on the election of Mr. Dewey. It's very -- behold -- not to forget that Mr. Walter Lippmann came out with a leading article which was unfortunately even printed, congratulating Mr. Dewey, and asking Mr.

Truman to abdicate right away, even before January 20th, and to step down so that a stable government in the person of Mr. Dewey could be established.

It's a good story, gentlemen, about the wrong social science. You know the story of the prophet Jonah, whose prophecy that Nineveh was destroyed led the people of Nineveh to repent, and so they weren't destroyed. And that is the -- whole meaning of the social sciences, gentlemen, that when we say the present conditions are such-and-such, and they are untenable, that not the social scientist changed them then -- changes them then, but the others. And defy his prediction that, you see, they must go on and fall into a rut and go to pieces.

Very strange how this always happens. Marx predicted that the workers would abolish the state, so the workers of Russia went and -- established a super state. Very similar to the Jews, you see. They always -- the people always do exactly the opposite from what the social scientists foretell.

Now you may say that's a very desperate situation; then there can be no social science. I'll give you the secret of Goethe, and of Saint-Simon. And I'll give you the secret of every -- all good people who have already worked -- and there are thousands of them, men and women -- in this field of social relations with great devotion, and not as natural scientists. They have not treated human beings as guinea pigs. What have they done, gentlemen? They have admitted that they themselves also had to change. The condition, gentlemen, of a social science is that the social scientist says, "This is such a challenge, the situation in society as I find it now, eternal war -- thr- -- bombs, for example..."

[tape interruption]

...take this down. As it is a -- of course, at -- at this moment a rather mysterious formula. It becomes, I think, meaning if you compare these two senten- -- three sentences. Gentlemen, in the world of -- of the authority, any child of man has to admit that it has first been educated by the authority of his parents, of the orphan asylum, of the laws of his country, of the Constitution. You are under authority. I am your authority at this moment. We talked about this. The authority cannot be denied for any reasonable creature. Before he can throw off the authority, he has been exposed to it.

The second thing is, with regard to things, I say, all the other people look at the sun without the telescope, Cogito ergo sum, I'm the first who looks at the sun with fresh eyes, and therefore I'm the scientist now of the world of nature. So in the world where there is no authority, but just things, the senten- -- second sentence is right, you see. I'm not dependent on anybody else's prejudices. I'm looking for myself. Can you see this? That in nature, there are no authority. In

the family, there is.

Now with regard to the -- gentlemen, to the wide world of men, of human relations, where we love and hate, work and -- and play, the situation is neither one of authority, nor one of things, moving. But as we said, it's a question of peace or {conflict}. You remember that we said the decisive experience in society without which nobody has any judgment is that he must know what peace is. And what is peace, gentlemen? Peace is the explicit -- explicit harmony between opposites. A mother and a father who -- a husband and a wife who get married, you see, by saying this, can have peace. As long as the man won't speak to the woman, he can only rape her. But by declaring his love, and by allowing her to answer him, the whole situation changes. They can make peace.

Gentlemen, you remember we had a long story about peace, that peace has to be declared. You remember this? So gentlemen, peace is never natural, because it must be said, and it must be answered. Nature is life without speech. Society is -- is nature becoming vocal. Gentlemen, when I speak here to you, I make the world in which you live vocal to you. I articulate it. I'm not speaking about the world, but I conjure up in you that which wants to be word, wants to be articulate. And if I hit it off right, you now can say it to you, because it has become word.

The whole relation of -- in society, gentlemen, of speech, and things is not that I tell something of this chair. That's natural science. But I say to you, "Don't you know who you are?" And you say "Yes. I recognize myself in your description. I really am this kind of man." And in this very moment, gentlemen, we haven't talked about anything, but we have articulated our own existence. Can you see this? In a few days, we will have Pentecost. And the Church on this Pentecost has a very strange saying from the Old Testament, from a Greek text. It says, "The same world that contains everything also contains speech." Also contains speech. Very strange. And the -- the meaning of the celebration of this strange holiday, which is -- has been forgotten in this naturalistic country, totally, Whitsunday, or Pentecost, is that man become vocal and can articulate, and say to each other that they are brothers, and sisters. They can say it. That's all. And by saying something, gentlemen, that which is said changes its own form of -- mode of existence. While I can speak, gentlemen, I'm quite a different person from the person I look when I walk over the campus. I'm not the man whom you see. I'm the man who speaks to you. Isn't that true?

As you may have heard, the old Dr. Johnson, Samuel Johnson always used to say, "Bring this man to me and make him speak so that I can see him." In society, gentlemen, you only see a man after he has spoken. If you get this distinction, you will never mistake nature and society -- again as being anything similar.

Society is the real world; nature is an abstract world. Nature is second-rate, because you artificially don't allow the forget-me-not to say to you, "Forget me not." That's artificial. Any flower speaks to you, right away. But in botany, however, you say, "I'll analyze this flower, regardless of her looks. I'll say, very tempting, but it's poisonous. Or very blue," you see, but in fact the blue is just -- I don't know, the reflection of some way in which the -- the -- the stems and the leaves are to be seen."

That is, we reduce in -- when we say "nature," gentlemen, we reduce everything to a powerless state of impotency, of not being able to speak to us. When you write a poem on a forget-me-not, you must allow the flower to speak to you. And you play on the words, "forget," "me," "not." And you suddenly understand that this is a very reasonable word. It's a very small flower, but very impressive when you suddenly come upon it in a swamp. And therefore, "forget-me-not," you see, is the way in which this flower alone can subsist and be saved from your destruction among the grasses of the field, because it is in itself insignificant.

You laugh at this, of course, in your heart of hearts. You think I'm sentimental gentlemen. But first of all, the lion says to you, "Wouldn't you like to be like me?" And you put the lion then on the coat-of-arms of the king of England. And that's a speaking lion, as they say in arm- -- today still in the -- in heraldry -- heraldics. The lion roars. To you, the lion is a mammal. You don't know who a lion is, because you don't allow him to be introduced to you, except in a zoo. Or you shoot him from a driving automobile at 70 miles' speed in Africa, as the rich Americans now destroy the rest of the animal life in Africa at great expense, and great satisfaction to them- -- their wives.

Horrid, what goes on there now. Well, you don't know this, but the rich Chicagoans, they go all for a fortnight. They fly into Africa, then there is -- put in a car, you see, and the natives drive all the mammals -- these big mammals -- the elephants and so against them. Sh- -- pup! -- pup! -- pup! -- pup! -- pup! And it's a kind of organized insanity. Because these poor animals no longer have any power to speak to these people, and to impress them with their incredible beauty and their -- right to exist. You don't know. You treat -- you exploit everything. You have no relation to mater- -- the material. You call even --.

I gave a man a sermon -- he was a minister -- to read. I had written really -- spoken my heart out of -- about America and my becoming an American. It was a 4th of July sermon. You know, next day I met him, he said, "Very interesting material." Very interesting material. A minister. In this country, you see, living speech is made into material. You -- you don't find anything wrong with this expression, gentlemen. It's murderous. As long as you think of living speech as material, you treat it, just like these lion-hunters in Africa, the lion, or like

anybody here treats a piece of land, or his own house. It is for sale, or it may -- the family may have lived there 70 years.

I came up to my selectman's house when I moved into Norwich, in the morning at 8, was a wonderful morning. His house was situated on a -- located on a hill with a marvelous sight over the whole Connecticut Valley. They had lived there for five generations, his family. And I never met the gentleman. I'd -- we rode up, my wife and I, and I said, "Margrit, I want to introduce you to Mr. Bradley. He is our former selectman."

And he said, "Don't you know a buyer for m- -- this place?"

That was his welcome: Don't you know a buyer for this place? Now we just moved in and tried to settle in that place, you see, so in this town. So we had a queer feeling that everything was for sale.

Yes. To him, his house was just material. And so a sermon is material. You do not think it is wrong, to treat your -- your so-called research material as material. When you have the great privilege of reading up on John Quincy Adams or on Plato, you think that's material. Or a -- a Shakespeare play -- a play of Shakespeare. That's not material, gentlemen. The Bible is not material. The Bible is a closed book, which waits for the moment in which you can understand and read it. And if you treat it as material, it will never come to life. Never. It's impossible, because it's up higher than you. It's not lower. Not because it's book, not because -- there is any sacredness about the paper binding, or the leather binding, but because these words, you see, are still ahead of you, and try to get you into life. And as long as you treat them as material, you have already said beforehand, that the life is not in them, and has to come to life in you, but you have turned around the whole process and said you are alive. And this is material. And you are the judges of its content.

Now gentlemen, the formula says, "I must respond, although I will have to change." Will you take down this translation? I must respond, although I will have to change. {As so far} the social scientist, gentlemen, anticipates a new "we," a new we-situation, he becomes the next elder of society. You have in John Quincy Adams, and in Gerson, you have such people, gentlemen, who had an office in society, and said, "We must discover quite a new function, because otherwise the country goes to pot." There will be no peace. And so they invented, without anybody understanding it even in their own lifetime, you see, a new function for themselves. They changed in order to -- respond to an unrecognized need. That is the definition, gentlemen, of social science: that the social scientist himself must change before he can hope that he articulates something that hasn't yet been articulated. Gentlemen, the social scientist articulates a process of socie-

ty that so far has not been ar- -- been articulated. This makes it clear, gentlemen, that he is just like any other man in the society speaking. But he's speaking about something nobody else has yet, you see, been willing to speak, because it was too dangerous, or it was too disagreeable, or it had been overlooked, or it had -- had -- nobody had been pained by it. You can see that the sociology, in the Negro question in the middle of the 19th century was a mixture of response and change of the people who did the responding.

Well, I can't go into all the detail of the consequences of this sentence. But I want to tell you, that a soci- -- a sociologist must know that he only abdicates his pride from being the physician, the natural scientist, once he admits that his natural response is based on his own readiness to change his station in life. If he -- is not willing to live existentially, to respond existentially, you can question his -- the importance, the value of his insight. The predicters, gentlemen, fortunately are always wrong, because they want to keep their income, they want to keep their dignity in society. I have a friend who is an economic predicter in New York, 120 Broadway, where they all sit. And well, they are all lame ducks, because they all sit. And one thing they are quite sure of: they want to keep their desks, and their income, and they all want to be professional predicters.

Gentlemen, if you want to know the difference between a social scientist, for example, and a judge -- an authority of the Middle Ages, as we have them to this day, or in -- I'll give you an example. A judge in New York comes very near my ideal. He said to me, "The real way of judging today would be that any judge has only one case before him. And that he has to leave the bench after he has passed judgment and goes and lives with the criminal a new life. In this moment, he would be a real -- enter this life of society, you see, in a new capacity, as an exjudge. And an ex-judge, coupled together with a criminal, they can go pretty far in reforming the world."

Now that's of course an overstatement. You can see. He exaggerates. But if you understand this, you see, the difference between being a judge, and being a social scientist. A social scientist must be so taken with the issue at hand that he himself first remodels his own way before he can underst- -- can say to others what they should do. He is the test case in whom the response must work itself out into reality. That's why you will find that the life of Goethe, with his many loves, which kept him capable of standing the boredom of a little princedom, and all the routines of a philistine life, or the terrible tragedy of Saint-Simon is intimately connected with their insights. If they hadn't been able to find a way out of everyday life, of their own present {-state} society, you would have no reason to remember these people. You remember them, because they gave a response, and at the same time, tried to live a different life.

Well, it's normal for most people to ask, "What's he doing?" Beware of the parlor socialist. The parlor socialist is a natural scientist of society who lives in Park Avenue and says it would be -- who's -- good thing to be a Communist or a socialist. I -- said "parlor socialist." You could have just as well said, "parlor Communist." It was the fashion of the -- in the last 20 years in America to live on Park Avenue and to find it very necessary that Communism should be rampant.

A friend of mine, a conservative reactionary like myself, came to see -- Charlie Chaplin in Los Angeles. And the man had been beaten up by the Nazis in a concentration camp, and he had been persecuted by the Russians, to whom he had fled from the Nazis. So he had been -- he had lost his teeth, and one eye, and was deaf -- of hearing from all the beatings. So he knew exactly what totalitarianism is on both sides. And he said Charlie Chaplin -- received him in silken pyjamas, and naked feet -- bare feet. And there were all these ladies who had -- well, how do you call these -- kieckerikinis? And -- bikinis. And they had their palms and their swimming pool. And they were just going into the water when he was -- his coming was announced. And so Charlie Chaplin came out and said, "You must understand, of course, that we all," with their Cadillacs and their perfume, "we all are Communist."

Despise these people! That's the only thing you can say. Just as you must now despise the McCarthy churchgoers. They are equally bad.

The social scientist, gentlemen -- this man who was, in a small way one, by the way, is a man who knows that insight costs a price. Knowledge and society, gentlemen, always cost a change of station, because knowledge is acquired by making peace with something not yet articulate, with some opponent party. And in a -- the way, gentlemen, in which we in society defy the natural sciences, and their dynamism, their supersonic flying, is that we move. In natural science, we make the atoms move. In the social sciences, the scientists themselves move. We also, gentlemen, cannot know anything in society before we haven't moved from one place to another, and thereby made a little more peace. If you understand that peace is explicit, or made explicit, you will understand that the movement to respond is movement. The movement towards peace in the mind of the sociologist must be accompanied by the movement of the whole man, before this peace can result. I can perhaps not explain to you fully the implications of this analogy of movement and movement. But use the formula, gentlemen.

In nature, we try to see the movements of the things, of the atoms, you see. In society, the sociologist must make his own movement explicit, before he can wake up the society to the necessity of following his response. The movement of the sociologist -- in sociology, corresponds to the movement of the atoms in the test tube in the laboratory. We are the atoms, gentlemen, in the social sciences,

the ones -- the people who try to {teach you something}. This is terribly important, because as long as you look in the wrong direction, you will always today sell out to the quack. The quack in social science is the man who takes -- thinks that he can make the guinea pigs move, and he can sit himself, and remain in a fixed position. Life begins after -- in society only -- when the man who has the privilege of articulating something is thereby moved to do -- to move. He is moved, you see. He is so impressed himself. He must be impressed first.

So gentlemen, peace is only to be had by those who are impressed by the danger of not making peace. Cogito ergo sum means "I can say `no'; therefore I am." Respondeo etsi mutabor means "I must say `no' to myself, lest there be peace -- lest there be war." { }. You see, the condition of peacemaking is that one man at least must act differently than from what he acted before. And the social scientist is the first who says, "I at least must do something different from what I did before. Otherwise, there cannot be -- be peace."

Well, I'm sorry. I would have to say many more things. But perhaps I have connected the lives of these great people, gentlemen, of whom we had the privilege to hear during last three weeks, with my own thesis. Every one of these people -- Anselm, Ab‚lard, beginning; and Goethe and Saint-Simon ending, have acted under this assumption that they had to change in order to respond. Every one of them. And so, gentlemen, the secret of this course is: it is a course in social science, itself. I have tried to show you that the cycle of theology, of authoritarian tradition, and the cycle of natural science, exploration themselves are under the law of society. You have not heard here a -- a course on natural science, and not a course on theology, and not a course on education. But I have tried to show you yourself, and your elders, and your children, and the -- world around you -- the colleges, and the schools, as part of a tremendous process of living in which at every moment, new, living members have freely originated, and have changed themselves in order to help you enter it. And that's why we have the privilege of having a tremendous ancestry. A very proud pedigree, gentlemen. If you don't forget this, you will carry on.