Transcript

{ } = word or expression can't be understood
{word} = hard to understand, might be this

[Opening remarks missing]

... the history of man is distinguished from natural history by one simple item, by -- our own recognition of this history. We acknowledge the history. We pronounce it. We express it. Many of you who have taken courses -- with me before know that a part of life is the -- its declaration. Part of love is the declaration of love. If you declare your love, you are in love. And you'll reach that -- state of maturity in which you have to declare it. If you wouldn't declare this love, it would prove to be deficient. So a part, gentlemen, of war is the declaration of war; a part of love is the declaration of love. And that runs against the grain of everything that is taught in this college, where everything is divided in mind and body. Here is a bodily event, some sex urge, and there is its explanation, or its consciousness in your mind. But the -- real life of the human race runs, gentlemen, always from -- for example, feeling to expressing this feeling, and to creating something out of this. Just as the Roman -- the Russians, as we said in 1905, they are thrown into the revolution, and in {1975 -- '55} seemed to emerge { }, and all the -- on the way they have shouted "Revolution!" and until they -- so finally -- have shouted so long until they now have found a way of stabilizing this revolution, you will see that the expression in between of what has happened is itself a part of the transmission of any faculty of humanity. You cannot transmit a faculty to your children without telling them. It has to be said. And we are just now working on a -- on a disk -- "History Has to Be Told" -- why history has to be told, because otherwise it would not mature into an event. An event, gentlemen, is only an event after it has received its name. If there wasn't a -- the Normandy landing so-called, there was no Normandy landing {complete} ...

[Tape interruption]

... the battle on the beach, of the -- you see, on -- in Normandy. This escapes strangely today notice. Even Mr. Toynbee and Mr. Spengler are strangely naturalistic. They think they give the name to the event, and the event exists without having to express itself. That's not true, gentlemen. You are only a human being when you can say, "I am a human being." It should be obvious to you. Before, you aren't. Just -- a baby is not yet a com- -- complete {name}, you see. That's why it has to be baptized, and has to have got two godfathers, because the godfathers already in their heart move around this future name of the baby, and until it can be confirmed, you see, they watch over this completion of his personality. And before, it's incomplete. And then comes this transfer of power of spirit of consciousness to the baby. When it is confirmed the godparents go and are no longer needed. They are sloughed off like the eggshell around the egg.

But nobody knows any of these things in this country, and -- because you believe, gentlemen, that things happen, and then some scientist sits down, writes a book about it. And you always omit this one stage in between, which is the most {interim} stage. Here is here a fact -- what you call a fact, or an event. Let us -- that's a -- a better expression. Try to get -- always to replace "fact" by "event," and you will be surprised how different the world looks. Then comes its own expression, and then comes later -- or never -- may -- may never come, but there can come its scientific analysis. But gentlemen, the funny thing is: in nature you can analyze things that have not spoken. But a human being, and a human event in history you can only analyze scientifically, after the event itself has found an expression { } speech. And the great confusion in this country at this moment is that this is ignored, and that historians are supposedly the -- not the analysts of an expressed event, you see, but the people who express the event, which they aren't. The battle -- the World War II has happened before Mr. Ada- -- Professor Adams has any way of anal- -- analyzing the World War II. Therefore, he is not analyzing a fact, but he is analyzing an expression. He has to explain why this is called "World War II." And the callers of this event are real people and not historians. And historians are not real people. They have not lived the event. The event itself presses you to an explanation, to an expression.

As I said, if you really are in love with somebody, you have to write her a letter or write a poem about her. And if you are too shy, you may never show what you put in your diary, you see. But still you have to express it somehow. And this is a phase, a stage in the life of the event, and has nothing to do with science. But it is funny enough, gentlemen. You and I are people who are provoked to express what happens to them, lest it not happen. A part of the happening is that you and I say so, are explicit about it. And as long as you do not say that you want to go to Dartmouth College, you obviously cannot go there. It is necessary that you express your intent to go to Dartmouth College before you can get on the waiting list.

Very funny that people in this country have -- in this terrible tradition of mind and body -- have not seen, gentlemen, that you, as real people, eventually use your mind, and eventually use your body to promote your affairs and your intentions. And obviously a human soul has at -- sometimes paid a ticket to Smith College, or -- buy a car to drive there. And sometimes you have to write a letter, and sometimes you have to say something over the telephone, and sometimes you have to defend the reputation of your girl in front of strangers. That is, speaking is just as much a part of real life as what you call "action," which usually only concerns your pique, and your souls, and your gasoline bill.

But you actually, gentlemen, believe that action is mute, and that words are just words. And the whole history of the human race, as we shall see now, is a

very wonderful way of words coming true, and facts becoming mere words. The -- the life -- way of life of mankind, gentlemen, is that you first say that you want to become a doctor, then you become a doctor. And then at the end you go stupid, or lazy, or senile. And then you are still called a doctor, by name, but you are no longer a doctor in fact. And so we can see when you say everything is mere words, as it is in this country to a large extent, that means that the fact no longer bears up -- stands behind the event. But you have overlooked the fact that the life of mankind goes from word to fact to word. You cannot get married before saying so. And Christ couldn't come before He wasn't prophesied. And the Jews couldn't get into -- into Canaan, before it wasn't promised. And you cannot get -- become a graduate student before having expected it. You cannot graduate in Dartmouth College unless you have expected it for four years, and done everything for doing -- for getting { }. That is, it has been in your mind as a word, "graduation," long before it becomes a fact.

This you do not know. You actually live from accident to accident. It's the ideal of the last 200 years in America to -- to lower oneself to an unconscious animal. But the greatness of consciousness is that you know what your doing? No. But that you tell a person ahead of time what you're going to do. And that the person then can remind you -- especially your girl -- that you have promised to be faithful to her.

The whole divorce problem in this country is connected with this misunderstanding of speech. Since you have promised in your marriage ceremony, or you are going to promise that you will live with her for better or for worse, if something happens and you kiss another girl, that's no reason for a divorce. But only a reason for her forgiving you. But in this country, when you look at another woman you say, "Oh! { }!" So in Newport, they all are married, you see, with everybody else's wife in a circle because they dance with each other, and they of course fall in love with each other, and they always get divorced. And the next time the -- the same thing happens. And they never know the difference between a real betrothal and a real vow, and such moody affairs of an evening. And so most people in this country are married because they once have kissed a woman. That's not a good reason to marry somebody, because you do not understand what a promise is.

A promise is something of which you wish to be reminded when it becomes critical, when the promise seems to be broken; and then it can be restored by remembering the vow. And that's a good reason, therefore, if you fall in love while you are married, and who will not? It's not a scandal, the women are made so beautiful. But then you have to learn that that's not very important. But in this country everybody thinks every mood is of the same importance, because you do not travel on the power of your word. As a man of honor, you should know that

your word is much more important than your glands. But you think the glands have spoken. That's the only thing that seems to speak in you -- vitamins, and calories, and glands. That's why you live by. I -- a man of honor lives by his word. That's the highest gland -- expression of his glands, my dear people. That is filtered and -- that's -- comes only out when it's absolutely necessary. That's why we call it "ex-pression," when the pressure is so much that you have to say something. But that -- you always mistake your prattle and your chatting, and your gossiping for speech. But human speech, gentlemen, is an event in your actual life. And it is not an addition of some pleasant remarks of your stupid mentality. But you -- are split. All schizophrenic. We could -- that's why all our state asylums are filled to overcrowding, gentlemen, because you have made it a habit to say "Here I do one thing, and then I analyze myself and look at it in the mirror." Is this human life?

Human life is: I fa- -- go where I stumble, and I say, "I was an ass," and I go on. That's not a statement of the mind over the body. But that's my own self, judging myself, and putting it behind myself. And then I go on to the next statement, usually it's another asinine action of mine, because if we are -- own judges are rather merciless and we feel -- give up -- commit many follies. So we -- then somebody else however comes and says, "It isn't so bad." And this word re-establishes our self-esteem. Just think any coach in a -- in a sport. You are depressed and you say, "I can't improve my style." And he says, "You will. {I'll show} you." And then you can see how his word then promises you a glorious future, you see. And your own word is, so to speak, less important than his word which you put into your own life, as an event in your own life as a great comfort.

It's -- everybody knows these things unless he goes to college. But as soon as you go to college, everything is falsified. Every normal human being, of course, lives by this constant braiding of word and act. There is no act that isn't elucidated by a word, gentlemen. And there is no word that hasn't to be backed up by action. But you can't have it in separation. Here. I throw a knife at you. Nothing is said. Can you know what I -- why I did it? Because I am a prestidigitateur and want to make a living on tricks, or I'm a murder, or I'm crazy, or it's an accident. It has to be said. I have to say to you, "I want to kill you," before you know that this is intent of murder, you see. Without the word, either the prosecutor of the government in court, or the judge, or the plaintiff, or I myself, the actor, have to say what I do. Before, it isn't done. You will admit that if the knife is just accidentally falling out of my hand, this is not the same act as if I throw it into your -- into your face in order -- with intent to kill. Do you see the difference? But you won't admit it, gentlemen. In this country, nobody wants to admit that words beget acts, and acts that are no longer { } kill words.

So we have a very wonderful march, gentlemen. The world is created -- our

world -- your and my world is created by speech. The child exists when the parent does not kill him, but goes to the sheriff and says, "This boy { } -- going to be { }." If the father and the mother decline to report the child to the sheriff, to the public office, something terrible happens. I know such a case. This country is, of course, gone so haywire that anything can happen. I know a boy whose mother was so jealous of this boy being born -- I don't know -- was a very complicated story in the family -- that she declined to have him named. And this boy was 24 when he ran into a friend of mine, a girl, and -- who cured his calamity, that he felt that he had never been recognized as a human being, because his own parents had declined to give him a real name. He was X. Then they called him "Peter." But they always told him that wasn't his real name, that he had -- that he had to live without a name. So then he got married and she understood, and now they have children again, and the worst is over. The boy has been out -- at the age of 24 been recognized as a human being. He was a very unhappy creature. And it's just accidental that he didn't commit suicide. And such a woman, of course, such a mother, should be spanked. The whip and the flogging would be the only recipe for such a witch.

But that happens in America, gentlemen, because this mother did not know that when she married, she promised to speak about her family relations, and to recognize the fruit of her love as the legitimate offspring of her love for her husband. She didn't know these things, you see. She thought she had just married for fun, { } were tremendously rich, and so all this was even covered up by so much money that they could pay all the analysts and psychiatrists in the world, which they did.

That's a disease of this country, gentlemen, and that is one of the reasons why you will have a hard time to believe, for example, that Mr. Malenkov and Mr. Khrushchev, as we said last time, managed successfully to finish the revolution as a mere act of violence, and to stabilize it as an event in the history of the human race.

Now what's the -- the program, gentlemen? The point I wanted you to -- to -- to recollect of -- last time was that we may recognize the words -- all -- the people of the whole world as our brothers in time and in space. I gave you the two examples of Dartmouth College as a founding of Christians in the wilderness before there was any America as a distinct entity. And I told you that the Earl of Dartmouth fell under the sway of Charles Wesley, and for this reason this college has been founded. And I told you that the -- dismissal of -- or resignation of Malenkov was the first attempt to legalize change, to legalize the transmission of power in this new, strange entity of the Soviets. And that -- that this hadn't happened successfully since 1905. And that if we wanted to show sympathy to the Russians, we should acknowledge their dilemma, and the dilemma has

nothing to do with agriculture, and with the army, and all these cheap prognostications which { } really { } shamed. What I tell you one can know, because one has to remember 40 years. These people, however, these poor people -- they have to stand the news of the last week. That doesn't offer any solution, and any explanation.

So we want to sh- -- see the unity of mankind, gentlemen, through time. And the method I have already shown you in these two examples, because it means to neglect -- to neglect the physical appearance of the moment, gentlemen, just as you cannot explain the life of a rose or of a tadpole if you only look at this moment of its existence. You have to -- know how the rose looks in August, and how it looks in October, and how it looks in spring before you know what a rose is. Everybody would agree to that. But you cannot explain Bolshevism by looking into the year 1955 either, obviously. It's impossible. Doesn't tell you anything. Look at all these lipstick ladies. How will they look 30 years from now? That's a decisive item, not how your wife -- your spouse looks at this moment. You have to see in her eyes something that will outlast her physical beauty. Otherwise don't marry her. Then she's just -- well, I won't say what she is.

So what lasts -- outlasts time, gentlemen, and what bears fruit is the problem of our course. And we already may add one thing, gentlemen: that for anything that bears fruit, there is one period always still -- to be listed that looks very disagreeable -- birth, travail, all -- all production of fruit, gentlemen, goes through a phase of very great inconspicuousness, even ugliness -- blood, sweat and tears. The famous word of Churchill is literally true in nature. If you see how a baby is born, or an animal is born, you shudder. And as you know, one of the reasons why our newspapers are so insipid about historical events, that they always make you understand that all this -- real things could happen without travail, that, for example, "That's just a struggle for power in Russia now." But do these -- gentlemen of the newspapers tell you how the big government should change hands? How it could all be done pleasant -- in the -- pleasantly in a living room? I have never seen children born on the couch in the living room in front of the fireplace. They are usually born in bed and under great agony. But if you -- the suggestion of American newspaper and public opinion is that everything could be done without pain. And that it is the wickedness, or usually the stupidity of people who have no -- drive no Packards and no Chryslers that makes the rest of the world so very unhappy, because why bother? Why have so much excitement? Why shoot? Well, in fact, of course, there's more shooting in this country than anywhere else -- murder. But we won't admit it. We say, "A reasonable people could agree on the change -- transmission of power in Russia, just with ri- -- without such a letter written by Mr. Malenkov," you see, and the sneering, and the calumny, and the -- the dishonesty of these editorials, it makes me vomit, because the assumption in this country is always that everything could be

settled without tears, and without toil, and that we -- if only had auto- -- automation, then we wouldn't get excited over anything.

Gentlemen, history is always the passing through a moment of despair, where the rest of the world says it will never work. Never. You just have to be a father of a child, and attend your -- the travail of your wife to know that if you were -- if you have -- had to judge at that moment, you would say, "It will never come out well. It's too terrible." You see, you break down and you weep and, as with the old Indian tribes, you go to bed yourself, you see, because you feel so sick when your wife is in travail. It is just too much for you. You can't stand it.

The coward cannot stand the battlefield, where decisions are reached. And so you do actually not believe how history is produced. History is produced of course by just the same vital process as fruits are begotten on a flower, or children are begotten from a woman, or our young cubs are begotten from a -- from a grizzly bear. They are born under sweat, and toil, and tears, and under danger of life. Law -- gentlemen, no human quality of history is interesting that hasn't been begotten in danger of life. All the rest, everything beautiful, enlightening, and sweet that happens in the world, in the newspapers on the front page, is unimportant.

Give you an example: we had here a tennis club -- a tennis team on -- in Dartmouth. And 10 years ago it was going to play Mary and William's. And perhaps somebody has heard the story. And we had a -- do you know it? Who is on the tennis team? Well, should not be forgotten. It's a great story in honor of Dartmouth, but it was made to be forgotten, unfortunately. And I want to revive it to show you how great events look. They look disagreeable.

Well, this tennis team had a colored boy on it -- in its ranks. And Mary and William's decided that they could not afford to expose their white skin to such a dishonor. And therefore, Dartmouth was put before the dilemma either to call off the match or, you see, to give up their -- their solidarity. And fortunately, they -- of course, they said, "Sorry, we can't play." That's to the honor of Dartmouth. But then we have a -- a paper called The Valley News, and the -- publisher and editor at that time was Mr. {Clarke}, who is a Dartmouth graduate. And everybody here, of course, thought that Dartmouth would be glorified in his paper. And he -- the Clairemont Eagle, Clairemont Eagle it was. Not the -- The Valley News. The Clairemont Eagle. There was no Valley News at that time. It was all Clairemont Eagle. And the Clairemont Eagle said, "This is not sweet, and this is not light, and this is not kindness, and therefore we will not report this story." And so something that happened, after all, in New England, and I recall that there was a civil war for the purpose, you see, and all the people -- boys from New Hampshire and Vermont fought for this, but the editor of a paper in Clairemont, New

Hampshire, declined to report that Dartmouth had kept its word, because it would only make for bad feeling.

That is the state of this country, gentlemen. It's one big lie. Life is not sweetness. Life is hardship. But since you do not report the honorable hardship of Dartmouth College with this tennis team, you must report the murderer. You must report the criminal, and all the arson, and theft and larceny, because some truth must of course be in life. So the papers, gentlemen, since they cheat you out of the real birth of positive events, of fruitful events -- for example, the real story of the Russian revolution, as it unfolds under your noses -- you have to report the murder, which is purely negative and is of no interest to anybody except the person murdered.

Gentlemen, all your Hearst Press principle of -- of fear, and jealousy, and love, as a -- content for the first page is substitution for true history. Is substitution, because they are absolutely -- Mr. Sheppard's murder is of no importance at all, except that he has to be done away. He has to be executed. That's all. And unfortunately he isn't. But otherwise, he's negative. That's negative. In all -- in all this country, you can always hear, "Be positive. Be constructive." And what do you see? Only destruction is filling your minds, because the constructive effort, gentlemen, is always controversial. If you say of anything he's controversial, he's finished. You don't talk with him -- with him, of him, to him anything, you see. A controversial person is a person who is in history, gentlemen. And a criminal is a person who is this side of history, who is not good enough to enter the ranks of history, because he's destructive. He destroys history. And you live with the criminals in your heart and mind, and you live without all your controversial contemporaries, because in your fraternities and in your cocktail parties, you only have to meet the non-controversial person. That's your idea. Controversial people are not invited.

That's how you live. This is a wonderful system, gentlemen, of second-rate living. In order to get the excitement, you deal with the -- with the hardships that are purely destructive. { } Because you decline that good life must have hardships. You say the good life is all sweet, funny, light. It's quite something. But this is the truth, gentlemen. I'm afraid there is not exception to the rule. There's absolutely no exception to the rule. A man like Bill -- Bill Mitchell, who went to -- was court-martialed, you see, because he wanted to break this jinx, went to his death unsung. Now we may mention him -- you know the great man who was court-martialed. MacArthur was one of his judges, as you know. And they say he was the only one who acquitted him, because the vote is secret. But Bill Mitchell had said that if the United States would not arm, there would be a terrible catastrophe. If the people had heeded him, there would have been no Second World War, and you would have no draft. You would only have had 10,000

airplanes in 1937, and that would have been enough to prevent the war. Now this is a big event. Is it written with larg- -- letters in your history course? Does anybody mention this, except as a footnote? Does anybody say, "This is the great event of the '30s?" No. They speak of the Depression and all kinds of things. But nobody says that there was one man who was willing to be court-martialed in order to save the whole world from the stupidity of American politics.

That's how everything that you are told, gentlemen, is out of proportion. There's a course given in Harvard at this moment by a professor of history, where he says the decisive event is -- is the fact that in 1874, the first blacktop road was built in New York. Gentlemen, in history only the events count that are done under danger of life. Imagine. The Civil War, the robber barons, everything goes fault -- by default in the mind of this gentlemen of -- for American history: the macadam road is the great cultural progress.

Well, as you know, the -- the road to Hell is always paved well.

This goes on under our -- you know it all, gentlemen. That's how you are treated. You are treated like children in a nursery. Nobody in a -- in a nursery may know that children are born with terror. It's just nice. The stork brings you. And you are down on the fairy tales if you say, "The stork, that's an immoral story." And you live by this immorality. To you the whole world is full of children brought by the stork, because you think all progress is just done by kindness. Of course, it's done by a fight, by resisting evil.

So gentlemen, the history of mankind is one of long suffering and travail, in each case where a new life has to be produced. Because when God created life, He made it a condition that it should be stronger than death. Therefore, it had to test -- be tested by death. A woman in -- Hollywood who marries a man, adopts children, is not married, because from her waistline, she had declined to bear the meaning of the -- of marriage. It is travail. And you look at these women and don't spit at them. You even have them -- make them your pinup girls. They're contemptible. All the heroes of America are contemptible people, because -- second-class people. People who make you think that Bob Hope -- that everything is laughter and smiles, all of California.

You know what Bob Hope was -- has said, when -- when he was asked about -- how he liked California. He said, "Oh, it's a wonderful country, if you are an orange."

The technique of our proceedings, then, must be, gentlemen, that we always show a danger spot, and a tremendous sacrifice of -- risk of life at which a new order, a new quality is acquired. You -- you know this very well, gentlemen, that

no new quality is acquired without hardship. You can't become a professional in any -- in any -- in any class without getting up your second wind. The second wind is this hardship, you see. It's a moment where you give up. I love mountain climbing, because there's no climb at which you do not feel complete despair after the first four or five hours and said, "What a fool I have been that I went out. I'll never do it again." And then the thing becomes -- begins to become interesting. But if this wouldn't happen, I wouldn't love mountain climbing, because in one mountain climb, I go through the reality of human life, because there is always at least one -- but usually three or four periods during the climb where you want to give up, where it is -- seems impossible for you to succeed. And without this, gentlemen, nothing extraordinary has ever been achieved in life. The new quality, gentlemen, of life, is always acquired by putting yourself above your ordinary strength. That's the law. And that's why it is called "extraordinary." Now the new is always at the moment where it is new extraordinary. It goes beyond that which has already been done. It's very simple. But what is not known in this country is that this extra makes always a -- a -- lays claim on your extra effort. It could not come to pass if with your ordinary circulation of blood, without higher blood pressure, you would try to achieve it. Nothing extra is done without this second wind, or third wind, or fourth wind.

The advocate of this principle of historical tradition, gentlemen, in this country has been the great William James. And I want to invoke him, because William James has opened the road for a new writing of history in this country. You have heard of him, of course. He lived from 1842 to 1910. And so you think he's dead long ago. But gentlemen, he will be alive after we all are dead, because he is a prophet of America. He is a prophet. And prophets begin to live after the people who have killed them have died. And the very strange thing happened in this country because William James happened to live -- die 30 years before John Dewey -- people actually in this country actually think that John Dewey is younger than William James. But William James is the prophet of the country of the United States as it has to be after pragmatism, and John Dewey, and the sweet-and-kindness generation have run their course, and the whole progressive education, when people -- children again will be spanked, and grownups will be disciplined, and life will be recognized for what it is, a fight against death and the danger of death, the new life is -- triumphs again.

So William James is the man of the future. And his principle has been, gentlemen, his great principle, that the new thing can only be acquired if you -- get up our third or fourth wind. That's the first principle of history, gentlemen: that the ordinary li- -- way of life cannot produce the extraordinary. It cannot. And the second law laid down by William James -- as the prophet of your entering history as all human groups had to do it, the United States have postponed it by 50 years -- the second law is that the power to build up this second wind is a decisive

element in any human society. That is, a group that has not trained its members in eventually giving up the second wind may have all the standards of life -- of living, and all the acquisitions of high civilization, it's doomed. He has expressed it very paradoxically, gentlemen. {One -- a} quality that is needed once in the existence of the race -- every 40 years let's say, or every 50 years -- is more important than a quality of every- -- of everyday living. You would believe the opposite. You would say that since I have to shit, and to breathe, and to eat, and to clothe myself every day, the government of the United States should make for a high standard of living, and should forget the emergency. But you know, we have a government that speaks of national security. And the Third World War may happen once in a century. But woe to us if we aren't prepared for it. And everything else is of second-rate importance compared to this one moment in 1969.

Can you see this? That's just -- you cannot. Gentlemen. Well, how old are you?

(Twenty-one.)

Twenty-one. Oh, unfortunately, already. So, ill-trained, ill-fed, ill-clothed.

[unintelligible]

You. Well, gentlemen, once in every -- to every man and nation comes the hour to decide. So one day -- I don't know { } are already engaged to marry? Are you?

(No.)

Ah-ha. So there's still hope. So let's assume that you are reasonable and you wait until your 28th year for such a serious step. You have seven years. All right, the -- this event in -- your 28th year is more important than all the ice creams you eat in the meantime. That is, whether you have the money to buy ice cream is utterly unimportant in the meantime. But it is terribly important that you should have the guts at 28 to do this fatal thing. This is only once, and -- you see, if you do it well, you will never have to do -- to undo it, or to repeat it. Only the fools have to get married five or six times. And always end in divorce. Obviously the man who does right does it once. Now this once in his life obviously is determining all his other little decisions. Everything that would destroy his capacity to make this decision, you see, all his empty pursuits of women's shirts before, that is, only dissipation would dissipate his energy. Therefore it isn't wise to get accustomed to have a diff- -- another -- a different girl every night, because it would incapacitate you for your real mea- -- the real meaning of your life. There-

fore it's poor policy to give in to the day's pleasure. You have to wait till the right girl comes. This means -- makes it true that one event in 28 years, one moment, is decisive for your whole constellation, for your stature, for your status, for your character, for your personality. And I cannot know anything about the real value of a man who -- before I have not seen how he behaves in such a crisis. If then, you see, he begins to tremble, and if then he has to ask a friend, "What shall I do?" he falls down on the job, although he may have been balloted into all the fraternities on Dartmouth campus. They are unimportant compared to this one great choice and selection, isn't that true? Can you now -- would you follow?

[unintelligible]

Wie? Now, imagine. Here is one event in 70 years which will make the judgment of posterity stick, one way or the other, whereas whether you speak haltingly or whether you dress clumsily, you see, or whether you are -- you are a poor shot or what-not can all be forgotten. But it cannot be forgotten, you see, that you never understood what marriage is, and yet proposed and made a woman unhappy. Very strange, gentlemen.

This is William James' great thesis. The second thesis, gentlemen: one event, raring to be accomplished, counts more for the institutional order of society than a thousand events done every day. It's all against your grain, I know. It's all against statistics. He would say, William James, and did say, that they -- if you have -- you have to breathe -- how many times a day? 36,000 times a day -- that's less important for knowing who man is, than the one decision that his brother made to volunteer in the Civil War and to come home as an invalid, and die a five -- few years later in a wreck. And William James was harangued and harassed by the fact that he hadn't gone to war and his two brothers were ruined there in the war. And he never forgot this simple fact, gentlemen, that their oncedecision made more of a man out of them, you see, than all his little habits and all the many books which he bought every day and read every day and all the little items of routine. This you do not wish to admit. William James is still absolutely unreceived in this country. This country has called -- has -- has declined -- reneged on his doctrine. And yet he is the greatest American of the 19th -- last century in -- in spirit and in life. And the most original one, and the one who has made a contribution that no European has made, because he has drawn attention to this fact of numbers and he has said the important events are the rare ones. The unimportant events -- sorry, as we say, are the everyday events. And human society must be organized by the emergency events and not by the routine events, because -- you can see, if you -- if man wouldn't have to marry, and people wouldn't have to go to war, you could live by Macy's and Gimbel's, couldn't you? And what a world it would be. William James said that would be a cattleyard. It would be a detestable world. But that's the American official way of

putting things, that if you only keep Macy's going, and the sales at Macy's, then the country is satisfied. Macy's -- I mean, the whole government speeches -- Mr. Wilson speaks not -- of nothing but of Macy's. It's all a glorified Macy's. You see, everybody can buy a refrigerator, a television set, et cetera, et cetera. Then they are prosperous. Of course, we are on the brink of -- of defeat.

(Would it have been smarter for James to make the right choice in his mind to go to war then and take the possibility of our losing { }, as our history { }, everything that he has taught?)

You know that William James was convinced that the times of war -- of actual war were gone. And therefore he broke his -- how would you say? -- racked his brain and I have, too -- all my life, finding a moral equivalent of war. He was not a {very} belligerent person in the sense that he thought it had to be soldiering. But he said that if people are not ready for such an emergency in their own attitude, you see, they go to seed. They decline. They decay.

(Why didn't he feel ashamed not to go to war?)

He was sick. He didn't -- they didn't accept it -- you mean in his own time?

(Yes.)

Oh, you see, there were five brothers, and the military just didn't accept him because he had some -- some -- some physical trouble. Was just F-4 -- 4-F, that's all.

(But he thought in his own mind, he should have gone.)

He would have gone. And Henry James was in the same predicament. His brother, you know, the novelist. The two were -- too -- too weak to go. And the younger brothers were taken. It's just actual -- I mean, if you have -- if you have hay fever, I don't think they take you into the army now. Isn't that true? Wie?

(Well, I think they do.)

How is it?

(How would these weak guys, like Nietzsche, who are -- William James is to the left, and we say Nietzsche is to the { }, weak people feel, because they can't do things, but they work with their minds.)

Well, but Nietzsche and James would both be in the same boat in this sense,

that they would say, "Since we happen to be physically weak, we must never draw a picture in the universe in which the physically weak are just right." You see, that's not good enough, the accident of birth. "I must have a -- a plan for the universe which is true to fact." And it would be like a monk -- drawing up, you see, a plan for society in which marriage would be interdicted, forbidden. So these two non-soldiers said, "We must not exclude soldiering from reality, because we live by the deeds of these soldiers. We'll have to be grateful to them." It would be just foolishness if you would say, "Oh, if everybody would only look like Frederick Nietzsche or William James," then the whole country would consist of decadence. But that's the official American dream of all the little red schoolhouse teachers.

(But they always seem to -- do just the opposite of what they are. Nietzsche is blind, and { } was a little, skinny guy with -- with social diseases and -- )

Social diseases? Well, you better lean over backward like Nietzsche or James, than by judging the world by your schoolteachers' standards. It is usually not your own judgment which is in you at this moment, but somehow, the -- the sheteacher has crept into -- under your skin. And you misjudge the universe, gentlemen, by thinking that the gentle type of man is the only type that God want -- wanted to create. God has created tigers and lions. And there is some meaning in this. And the people without teeth and without gum, I don't think he created only -- only doves and pigeons.

There's a famous poem by the German, Goethe, where a -- a lion cub and a dove speak to each other. And the dove wants to convince the lion, you see, that it's really not necessary to get so excited and to roar. She doesn't roar, you know. She says, "coo-coo-coo." And so the lion very proudly and very generously -- strong people usually are generous -- listens to her and -- at the end he only says, "Oh, my dear pigeon. You talk like a pigeon. That's all."

Now Nietzsche said, "I am not going to talk like a pigeon. I'm going to represent the complete manhood," you see, "including myself." He never excluded hi- -- his type. He said, "There is room for my type, too -- for my soft and mental type," you see. "But the world for which I'm speaking, the humanity which I'm representing in my thought, you see, must include all the other types, too." I think this is a fair statement. And I think that's why Mr. -- Mr. Dewey is not a great man, and not a great philosopher, because he only includes the Deweys into his ration- -- rationale. The most boring type of humanity. { } never roar, and people who never scold, and people who never get angry -- always sweet, light and kindness, and not a {mouse born}.

(Sir, this point about the great man. Is that the man who can do the right thing

at the right time: { } or be the pigeon? In other words, you have to come at the right moment, this -- either strength or {intellectual life}.)

What does the Gospel say about this? Very simple, gentlemen. The great man is the man who can be at one time one thing and at another time something else -- exactly as the -- his -- as the -- the future of the human race needs it. Be simple as the -- what does the Gospel say? What? Don't you know? That you have to be as clever as the serpents and as simple as the dove. You have to be able to be both.

As soon as you want just to be a lion, or a dove, you are a -- a boring personality. You have no personality. A person is a man who can combine, like a cherub, or the sphinx, different qualities. The -- that's why -- we shall see this, in history the discovery of man consisted in giving him attributes that were contradictory. You know the cherub -- how it was painted? With wings, and angel, and lion's body, or the sphinx, the same way. These were attempts of expressing the contradictions that were necessary to represent the full character of you and me. Gentlemen, I would defy you if you always were enraged. And I would defy you if you always were sweet and forgiving.

For example, take this simple example in our modern society. You hurt a man. You say, "Excuse me," then you take it for granted that he has to excuse you. You do not even give him a chance to say, "Yes. It doesn't matter." You take it for granted. You go away without having heard his answer, because it's a formula for you. It's a label. But gentlemen, if somebody asks my forgiveness, I still have the right to decline, and to say, "I -- this is such a bastard- -- dastardly deed that I -- I'm not going to forgive you so cheaply. First make up for it." And I find in this country that we are over-Christian, that there is -- everybody takes it for granted that everybody else has to forgive him after he has murdered his mother-in-law.

Yes. The -- the man says, "Forgive me, excuse me." And he takes it for granted that he is excused. That's not the story, gentlemen. The story is that you have to expose yourself, you have to risk his not forgiving you. Before it is not -- you don't ask forgiveness. You only -- only -- the word "Excuse me" makes only sense if it is the other fellow's decision to excuse you. If you anticipate his excuse, you see, you have broken the relations of human society. And that is your great fault, gentlemen. We live in a -- constantly all-forgiving society. That's why the Rosenbergs had to be executed, because it had come to an impasse, where everybody was pardoned. This is impossible. You have to wait till somebody is pardoned. If the man who is hurt wants to pardon him, that's up to the man who was hurt, and not to the man who asks for pardon. But isn't that true? That you have -- it has never dawned on you that the formula, "Excuse me," is treated by you as black magic. And you say you don't believe in magic. Everybody in America

believes in the magic of his own excuses. You go to the dean of the college, you lie -- him -- as something to him -- lie up -- something you -- you make up. And then you think he has to forgive you. "Oh yes, my dear boy. Of course, we won't report you and we won't write your father," and of course 77 times forgiven. But you have it all in black and white in your own pocket. It's not the other fellow who forgives you 77 times, who has waited, you see, with great restraint. But you think you forgive yourself, because you pull the trigger and you use the magic formula, "Excuse me," and so you dominate the scene.

Gentlemen, you believe in magic just as much as any primitive savage. You believe in the magic of your formula for forgiveness. And you know how all these criminals here weep in this country. "Oh, Cop," they say, "I didn't mean to shoot you." This last man who was -- who was -- who was caught. You remember, perhaps, in this terrible murder in Boston, where they invaded this house in Newton, and four men and one entered and shot the -- the poor son-in-law, and outside the -- they had their pistols and then they were caught against their expectation. And the first thing they -- they -- of course, they wept immediately and said, "Oh Cop, we didn't mean to shoot you. We would never have shot you." And so they are brought up on this line, you see: Oh, the -- the she-teacher always forgives everything. It's always the -- here your grade school experience which -- which make -- puts you under the expectation of a society in which your formula, "I'll be good again," works. Well, it won't work. Shouldn't work.

(Could I {pose} that into the formal situation in a case of war? You're moving a group of troops forward, you cleaned out the general part of an area, and during the course of a day you draw fire from a sniper that is in an isolated spot. He continues firing. One by one, he'll hit some of your men until finally, you work your men forward. You get him under fire, you pin him down, there's no escape. No assistants spotted. His hands go up in the air. And he surrenders. Is someone justified in shooting him when he surrenders?)

Not at all. That's an honorable fight. The conditions were clear. He hasn't cheated you. He was your enemy. And now he ceases to be your enemy. I have no fear, you see. As a soldier myself, I feel that the code of honor in a war is very simple. There is no -- there has been no crime committed. This was his good right. He defended his country, as you defend yours. What's wrong about that? What's wrong?

I can't see this -- is all above board. I mean, that's all clear. He never cheated you. You knew where -- what he -- he was your enemy, declared. A declared enemy, you see, is such a -- is a noble creature. An undeclared enemy is a criminal. That's why I say, declaration of war is a part of war, you see. You stay. Now with war, then it's all clear.

(This is not a crime against humanity? And { } perhaps, killing.)

They kill, too. They -- didn't they shoot?

(Then perhaps --)

Wie?

(Then perhaps they both were crimes against the brotherhood { } if you take humanity and the study of history as one, then aren't the -- aren't they both crimes and not fair to the { }?)

I think at this moment, I do not -- would like to enter this. Let me discuss war, the warpath of the primitive man. I think we have to come back to this eternal question. Your question of brotherhood is -- I think we'll have to {handle} it a little different. You have to -- only to give you one suggestion how we have to approach this. If you have the buds on a -- on a tree -- on the branches of a tree, in bloom, every human being could be compared to such one bud, such one blossom. And they would all have to be brothers or sisters. All right. But you can also say -- that they are -- distributed on branches. And if three or four of these branches get twisted, the question is whether the loyalty of the blossom is not to his branch but in access -- or excess to his being compared and an equal to the blossom of -- on the other branch. This is the tragic situation of war, you see, that the branches get in -- twisted in a -- in a tempest, in a storm. And there you can't argue, you see, about the individual blossoms.

(Wouldn't the word "surrender" be equated just a bit with the black magic word, "Excuse me"?)

Pardon me? What?

(Couldn't "surrender" be the same as "Excuse me"? In other words, the person {waving} is black magic?)

Oh, no. No. You see, I have -- I tread on your toe, and I say, "Excuse me," because you had every right to expect that I would not tread on your toe. But when I surrender, I have before not surrendered. I have never -- tell you before that I would not shoot. This is the opposite situation. The very opposite situation. I was at war. But the man who treads on your toe and says, "Excuse me" was not expected to tread on your toe. It's the opposite situation. The very opposite, because you live with him in peace, and with the other man who's the -- now surrenders, the moment before you were at war. And you had also a very good conscience about shooting at him, taking aim at him. You wouldn't have -- mind

shooting him a minute before. You always forget your own action to this man. You didn't only expect him to kill you, but you also hoped to kill him, before he could surrender. Then he -- he is lucky to surrender. And you are very glad that somebody steps out of this whole -- whole morass and -- and -- and says, "It's over." So I do not see why you shouldn't enjoy very greatly his surrender and act accordingly. You always forget yourself in the moment before the surrender. You were shooting, too, armed to the teeth.

(What if you were the sniper sitting up in the tree? What would you --?)

It makes absolutely no difference. They -- I don't see that -- gentlemen, the only people who understand each other are people on the front. They despise only two -- one group of people, the newspaper correspondent, and the people back home. And all soldiers are at one. The soldiers on both sides of any front form a unity, a moral unity, if they are good soldiers. If they are poor soldiers and cowards, not. But any chivalrous war is fought as between Lee and Grant. So then Grant says, "Take home your horses."

(When was the last chivalrous war fought, professor?)

There is always the last chivalrous war fought, and it's always tomorrow the first chivalrous war. Gentlemen, that these people are at -- nine-tenths beasts and uneducated, and cowards, but never they been so {slovenly} as nowadays, I admit. But that doesn't mean that the war hasn't been exposed to moral breakdowns before, Sir. It's up to you to say, "I won't share in this breakdown," that's all. If you tell me, gentlemen, that any time is worse than any other time, and your time is the worst, I just laugh at you. The times have been the same all the time. In looking at anything from the outside, you only have reason to {despair}, and think that people -- but that's what -- why it's so {helpful}.

William James has said thirdly -- let us finish this list. For- -- unfortunately we have no -- had no break today. I apologize. I will -- I repent and do better next time. But now we have this.

He also said that for this reason, the one man who does the extraordinary thing is more important for the future of the human race than the 999 who are caught in their ordinary routines and decline to act under the emergency. Gentlemen, whom do you remember? You do remember Bill Mitchell, and you do not remember all the -- the brass which did not come out for re-armament in time. And I do remember in this college, of course, the boys who did resign from the fraternity. And I do not recall the names of those boys who stayed in their fraternities and went on with this -- with this hypocrisy. Who is remembered? The man who does the extraordinary thing. And the man who does not the

extraordinary thing goes down with his own time as a part of his own time. And this is then the third thesis, gentlemen, William James: that the one man who is ready for the emergency is the only one that counts. And the other don't count. They don't count.

And the fourth thing, that the people who don't count absolutely rely on the one man who is -- can be counted upon. That is, there is a -- these people who say, "Oh, he's ridiculous. He risks his life," mostly do not even know that unless Bill Mitchell had acted in 1933, there would not even nowadays be this little bit of morale which enabled us to win the Second World War. That is, he is the condition for your existence, whereas the 99 generals of 1933 who didn't say anything are perfectly superfluous for your own survival.

So that's the whole story, gentlemen, of Christianity: that Jesus died for the people who were no Christians, who were not Christians, but were too stupid to see that it was important to act. He didn't die for -- for His twelve apostles. And He didn't die for Mary Magdalene. He didn't die for His mother or His father. He didn't die for the decent people. He died for the people who crucified Him, who said it wasn't necessary to go to the Cross, the people with the standard of living, all you. And every generation, gentlemen, the people -- the man is always crucified who says, "You all will perish unless one of us sticks his neck out." You will perish, the people who say, "You don't have to stick your neck out." That's so funny, you see, that the people -- the ordinary people, gentlemen, are saved by the extraordinary. That's the hardest thing for you to believe, although you know it. Of course, Abraham Lincoln and George Washington -- you know very well that they were extraordinary people. But you wish to elect Mr. Truman. And so you say, "The ordinary man will do the extraordinary." I'm afraid he will not.

There was one president of New Hampshire, who was it?

(James Pierce.)

Yes. Yes. And he was a complete failure, because he tried to do the ordinary, only. You know his only merit? Well? What?

(He was handsome?)

No, no. He made Nathaniel Hawthorne consul in Liverpool so that he could live in England. That's his only meritorious act, because Haw- -- and it was for a very dastardly thing, because Hawthorne had read -- written a full-praise pamphlet -- pamphlet in favor of Pierce's election. And for this he was ni- -- neatly paid off by Pierce. And that was the only action of Mr. Pierce.

(Can one of the ordinary men become an extraordinary man?)

Any minute! You know the ordinary man -- there is no extraordinary man, of course. You see, there is {no} extraordinary man. The extraordinary man is the man who's really a man. The ordinary men have only the features of men, but don't make any use of them. They -- the word "men" is applied to them, but the fact is no longer with them. I told you that most -- most realities finally only bear the name, you see.

You are not students in this college. You amuse yourselves. A hundred years ago, people worked in a college. You don't work. So -- I mean, you have the name of Dartmouth. I have -- the president of this college and your teachers know very well that it isn't yet sure that there will be Dartmouth College in 30 years. The Army and the Navy will take up all your time, and this will -- the four years will not be granted to the youth of America. It's too great a luxury. You make no use of it. You just idle away your times. What do you do? Nothing. So it's -- I mean, you are at this moment on -- on trial. I don't -- I don't think that the liberal arts college has any future. I don't believe it. It has been abused too much. Because the ordinary people, you see, are by name students, but you are not students in the sense in which 70 years ago people would have to study and learn Latin and Greek. You don't learn anything. And you haven't learned anything before, so why should there be a college? It's absolutely unnecessary. Just for your having a good time?

(So the ex- -- extraordinary person leaves college. Divorces himself from the ordinary things.)

Oh, some do. Oh, yes. Some leave college in disgust.

(Then what? You're out of college. { } I mean, suppose that somebody walked out of this class and figured, "Oh I'm going to be extraordinary." He quits college. He's through. What next?)

You see, he has one great advantage. He can't become a barber. They have to have a college degree now for becoming a barber.

[unintelligible rejoinder]

Well, it's much simpler, Sir. The words "extraordinary" and "ordinary" again be -- adopt our method in time. They -- they are -- look at -- by looking at them, you get angry and say, "I'm an ordinary human being, and I don't have anything to do with extraordinary things." That sounds very reasonable, and very humble. And very generous, and very human. And gentlemen, if you put it in a sequence

of time, you will admit that the first generation that founded Dartmouth College, the founding generations, the founding fathers, had to accept hardships, which you do not have to accept, because they wanted to make sure that there was a college. That's the extraordinary, who makes sure that there is this way of life on which you embark at this moment for the first time. You are people who enjoy a way of life that has been laid out for you over 150 years. You do not ask what it costs to establish this way of life. You eat it up. You abuse it or use it, or exploit it, or whatever it is. And you are -- that is called ordinary, gentlemen, which inherits an order. Ordinary people are people who inherit an order. Extraordinary people are the people who pay the price for having the order.

So there is nothing so mystical about extraordinary and ordinary. The extraordinary man, gentlemen, in this country -- look at him -- is the man who created all the skyscrapers. Before they were there had -- he had the courage to say there shall be skyscrapers. You poor people live in apartments and in skyscraper-cities. You have never seen the country. There are boys at Dartmouth who don't even know where Norwich or where Lebanon are situated. And -- let alone Hanover Center. That's a mysterious place, and you no longer live in the country while you are in college, because you don't know that there is such a thing as country. You come from the big city, and this is just a suburb. And unfortunately, we have no Long Island Railroad to New York. But otherwise we just behave -- and you are behaving here like suburbans.

And therefore, gentlemen, you have inherited an order. And you are not -- not the people who at this moment lay -- create Dartmouth College, as though it had never existed. Therefore, I know the -- the worldlings, gentlemen -- we call people in the old language "worldlings" who lived as parasites off the existing order. That's a worldling, who says, "The world is as it is, and I live on its -- I skim the milk." The real man is not a divine man in the -- the -- the human being says, "I'm in process of organizing the world, of laying down the law, of ordering it." And the worldlings have very cleverly called these people "extraordinary," to brush them aside and say, "They are fools." Obviously Jesus is a normal man, and Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate are subnormal. But they call themselves ordinary, you see, and so the poor man becomes extraordinary. He's just a normal man. The normal man knows that all order has to be done {by him}. And the extraordinary -- the ordinary man says, "Oh there is some order, and I'm just skimming along."

So I -- I grant you, the very use of the word "ordinary" and "extraordinary" is a concession to the Devil. Can you see this? As soon as you call the decent fellow extraordinary, you call him an idealist, you of course are hurting the world order. The world order consists of people who can have children, and consists of movie stars who adopt children. Now if you say that the movie star is ordinary, then of

course, any mother who has still -- gives birth to seven children becomes extraordinary. But who is ordinary? And who is extraordinary? Wouldn't you say that the movie star is just below parity? She's unspeakable. But the -- you have got -- built her up into the normal, even to the ideal. This whole country looks to Hollywood for its normalcy. This is incredible. Absolutely incredible.

So let us -- this is the last thing, gentlemen. The so-called "extraordinary" -- this is very good that you brought this in, you see -- the so-called "extraordinary" is the person on whom the order depends. And the so-called "ordinary" peo- -- person is the person who exploits the order, and who never asks the question, "Whence did this order arrive? Whence did it come?"

Gentlemen, you have today, for example -- take the last simple example, marriage. Everybody thinks that because there is a church, you can go to Church, and then it becomes the sacrament, and then it is consecrated, and that's then a religious wedding ceremony, with the bridesmaids, and the New York Times, and everything, too. And gentlemen, when there are two decent human beings, and they declare in the face of the world that they are going to stick together, obviously they are without and with Church, celebrating the original sacrament of marriage. Isn't that simply true? And the sacrament has nothing to do with the Roman, or the Episcopal, or the Congregational Church, and the Roman Catholic canon law says very clearly that the sacrament of marriage is administered by the partners, in the presence of a priest. But the -- nobody can administer the real sacrament of a marriage except husband and wife, because they -- they nominate each other at this moment as partners of this sacrament. They are doing. And therefore it could be done if the whole world collapsed and there would be -- two surviving people they would, of course, if they were fullfledged -- what we now said "extraordinary" people, you see, just normal people -- they would see themselves in the light of eternity and say, "We are the missing link. We are the link between the past and the future and through us life shall go on, on this earth." Very simple.

So, what I meant to say: forget about all these extraordinaries. Today the ordinary people -- the person who marries, tries to make it extraordinarily solemn, by going to the -- St. John's Cathedral. Gentlemen, it is in your full power to make it extraordinary, your own marriage, just by being a complete person, and knowing what you are saying, and not reserving your right to get a divorce next day. If you do this, you see, you -- in your hands is the full-fledged organizing, the ordering of society. You create something that everyone else seems to have forgotten. And so you see, such a married couple obviously is not ordinary, because the order depends on them. Whereas the people who go to the -- to the -- to the church and are consecrated by the cardinal, as it happened to the daughter of -- who was the famous Irishman in Boston? Now, who was the

great man, the mayor of Boston?

(Curley.)

Curley, you see. Well, next day, the -- the marriage had to be annulled. The cardinal had to -- consecrated it, but it didn't work out. And the whole ceremony doesn't make a thing extraordinary. They still abuse the order, you see. That is, they made a tremendous splash on the existing organization, but they -- two people -- I don't know the reason that they may have -- they just weren't able to fulfill themselves their task to recreate marriage.

Thank you.