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

See the wrong time sense? This is the physicists' time sense. Look at it. A really dead time. { } the word "time sense"? Well, you missed something.

I asked you to write on the speech, The Reply to Haynes, by Mr. Daniel Webster. To help you, I have put on reserve for two hours -- one of you, a bibliography of the speeches, the works of Webster. It's on -- in the library in the -- college library reading room downstairs. And it's by a gentleman, Clapp -- C-l-ap-p. It's the 13th volume of the Bibliographical Society of America. All you have to ask, I suppose is -- is 180 in History. And it's only meant to help you in finding some text, some complete text of this speech. I was glad to find in this bibliography that it was printed at the time, 1813, 40,000 copies, and then reprinted in the same year in 20 different, other editions. And it is the most publicized speech in the English language ever published, and ever sold. And it was the high point of Daniel Webster's career. He has never made a better or more important speech before or after. I all -- think therefore that it's quite right that this speech should shine and tower over your historical approach to the whole period, from 1783 to today.

And I want to repeat: my prescription or my assignment is that you should apply the principles of this speech, about the open and unorganized part of the American scene, to either previous or later stages. The more, the merrier. I mean, I insist that you at least draw one comparison with one other period of history, be it after 1898, or after the First World War, or after the Second, or after 1817, after the Treaty of Versailles, the {Number 1} in 1783, so that you learn to apply human speech and human principles to corresponding situations.

In history, every situation certainly is different. But the -- we have this continuously identical premise that after any war in this country, there was one part of the land organized. And another part not yet organized, yet demanding organization. And this -- historian's task obviously is to shorten the period of obliviousness in which you are sunk at this moment, thinking that the war is over. And obviously my generation and the next generation have to take all pains to force you back into the future, so that you don't go daydreaming and live this mythical existence of no time, nowhere, no place, in which you -- everything is, so to speak, conspiring to -- to drown you. You do -- have -- not find with our -- neither a national holiday, nor any symbolism, nor any ritual by which you are prevented from living before these two world wars. So you don't live after them. You live before them. You live outside them. That's very serious. And all history writing, all history telling is an attempt to bring the next generation up to this historical level on which the past events count, you see, and which

you -- they cannot be discounted.

In this sense, gentlemen, history has to do with dates. The complete contempt for dates is as bad as the complete contempt for learning by heart hymns, or -- or verses, or poetry. Dates are the skeleton of history, because they remind you that something { } this event -- counts. The word "count" is not accidental. It is the most simple, the most -- plainest of terms. "Count the years," you see. But if you not even count, you see -- if you discount them, as you all do, you think, you live anyway after the -- after this event, you can't help it, so to speak, you are steeped in superstition, in the superstition that surrounds us {today} from the childishness of the scientist. The scientist has not this {health} of historical time, because there is abstract time of physics. In this, events do not count.

So this is the first thi- -- my assignment. Any questions about this paper? You can make it as long and as short as you please. It can be an excellent paper if it is short. And it can be a poor paper if it is long. I mean, length has nothing to do with the quality of the paper, obviously. It can't be too short, as you can find out, because Mr. Webster has given a very long speech. And I'll find out if you -- actually read the speech. I mean, if you do that, that's just already quite some work.

Now to come back to our proposition. You remember that we tried to divide man's affairs in society in these three situations: the political, the religious, and here, the social. I leave this at this moment. And I tried to show you with -- without much success that the Church speaks of man's destiny, of the future, and is trying to pull up stakes whenever we get stuck. Take the question of slavery. It's a religious question if man is free, and you have to pull up stakes. John Brown's -- is a good example, because religion forbids all the -- goes against all the material interests of the North and of the South in 1859, and he goes to -- what's this, the place where he goes to? Wie?

(Harpers Ferry.)

Quite. To Harpers Ferry, not because of any political or social interest. It's anti-economic. It's -- disturbs the peace. But man's destiny cannot be reached if there is denied equality and freedom. And so the future of the human race see -- is at stake. And so John Brown is a religious martyr. You may disapprove of his religion, but he has the religion. And religion -- because it must get out of the dead-end streets, religion will always defy economic advantage, and will always defy political peace. It must. It's more important, the future, than anything else.

You'll remember this lady who was a schoolteacher in her own right, and

thought the schools in her state were terrible, and she had the certificate I think from Michigan, and she lived in Illinois. Do you read this a few years ago -- it went through papers? And so, since her child after all is her religious pawn, her religious trust, she taught the child herself. And she was sent to prison, in this year of the Lord 1957, because she had a certificate not from Illinois, but from Michigan state.

To this idolatry of certificates and examinations have we come, you see, that man today is sn- -- ensnared and enslaved by the question whether he has a teacher certificate of the state of New Y- -- of Illinois or of Michigan. That's a religious question for a decent mother. Most mothers, of course, dump their children in a nursery school and think that's their religious duty. I don't think that's true. I think their religious duty is to -- to make this child into a free creature. And if she sees that all these modern, behaviorist schools destroy the genius of a child, she has no right to send the child there. May -- the law and the government say this 10 times all over. You're not free from your responsibility with your child, just because there are state schools. You have to look into the matter, how they are. You can't still -- from my estimation, I couldn't have sent my child to a school in Mississippi or Georgia without ruining his character forever. Now fortunately I didn't have to live there. But how somebody can live there and reconcile his conscience with sending these child -- children to school of Mr. Eugene Talmadge, I don't know.

So it's a religious issue when the future is at stake. The political is one of our surrounding nature. There are frontiers. There are rivers. There is peace. There are roads. There is property. And so all state law, and all political order of the nation has to do with nativity, where we are born, the place where we come from, the place where we settle. And therefore, the state always points backward. All political nationalism in Europe, in the last 150 years, has pointed backward. The Poles are where they were in 900 A.D., and every claim in Europe, from the Balkans to the Scandinavian countries, is based on a -- situations a thousand years back. So much is nationalism, you see, always backward-looking to the laws of nature, to what has gone on before. Why is it today? Because it was yesterday, as some of you suggested the other day.

So all -- natural order is based on things that have been. Take the Colorado River question. Now people try to prove one way or the other to whom the water should go. There is the water, which has been running for thousands of years, you see. And the -- attempt to derive laws from this past is very difficult. It's a waxen nose, I assure you, you see. As long as you try to fight it on -- on purely political grounds, you can prove anything { }. The best solution is to go to war. And it is only the peace- -- you see -- -loving community that can afford not to go back to nature, but find a new solution, a forward-looking solution.

And that is, you see, forget about the laws of nature. All life on earth is a defiance of the laws of nature. This in -- in -- in passing. But we can't always defy it. There are certain minimum situations. Especially when we are asleep, the police must take care of us, with our gravity and our { } prop- -- property interests, and protects us.

And so the state is backward looking. The Church is impressing us with demands from the future. I should put it this way. And now work -- society as a factory system, as a system of production and consumption, of transportation, of trade, of commerce, of inventions, obviously is concerned with everyday consumption, with the day. As we go along, we have to eat. I mean, it's very nice to hear something about my religious destiny; in the meantime, I have to eat.

And so even -- even John Brown, and there you have a very good case of -- of the con- -- conflict of these three orders. John Brown of course had to give his men to eat when they passed the --. That doesn't detract at least -- at all from his religious goal. You can see that. But the bread has to be produced. There was a mill, there was a baker. There was even for his horses a -- a -- his blacksmith. And so work, a productive society, which today -- nearly consumes all your interests, industry of all kinds, is of the present. Here. It's day-by-day living.

This is the -- the creation to which we are tended. That's where -- why we are creatures. That which is still in becoming a creature is something that is in being created. And here we are in the state of nature, what already is there. You will perhaps understand that it is very obvious that in the 20th and 21st century, industry holds the limelight. Goods, production. At this moment, we therefore speak of all these social problems, capital and labor, and the social revolution, and -- and the corporations, and bigness, and distribution, and inflation. All these are economic problems, are they not? And they are problems of the day. And there is much attempt in your own mind, I think, and in many other's mind, to say the -- our whole time should be satisfied with the economic solution of all ills. And everybody is rich, everybody can go on -- to the mile or the Strip and have dinner there. Then the rest takes care of itself. Rich people are always religious and always politically wise. This is an attempt -- I mean, the Bolsheviks had this religion, this faith, that the future is purely economic. And if the economic problem is solved, everything else falls into place.

Now we can say that the Pilgrim -- fathers, like John Brown--or the Boers, by the way, in South Africa, when they seceded from the British in 1830 -- it's a very similar development, or the Mormons in 1847--that they thought it was vice versa only necessary to have the religious socie- -- order at heart, that everything else would then, you see, fall into place. I suggest that we make this distinction that in the 18th century--and in the 17th--the religious order was the most spo-

ken-of, and the political took second seat, and the economic, third. So that we get the history which lies behind our course here, as one which is led on by the religious vocabulary and interest. Not that the other didn't exist. People had to have laws, of course, and they had property. And they also had to do hard work. You see, but these things were not in the limelight. They were not the first under discussion. Under discussion was, as you know, in the 18th century--we'll come to that once more--the religious question: predestination, revival. The Pilgrim fathers after all drew up a religious covenant.

Now if you speak of a religious century then, you do not need to say -- you never can say this is purely religious. But it -- it is talked about as, you see, as being primarily this. Today, of course, you can see that we try to live in a state of nature. The physicists hold sway, and I always hear, as I told you, "American religion," "religion in America," "South California, fairy land -- come here and bask in the sunshine, and you are a better person." That's a distinct, natural, you see, approach -- naturalistic, it has always been here, the right place to be, and finally we have reached it, and forget all our political and religious quarrels, and everything else. And everybody becomes an orange.

So this going back to un- -- subconscious, preconscious, anti-conscious living is, I think at this moment, very dominant, very --. In the 19th century, you have of course a tremendous outburst of nationalism, and therefore of state pride. Whether the individual state of South Carolina, or the United States, they pride themselves. And what the United States forbore in -- in humility with the insolence of South Carolina, they took -- they took out in arrogance against the British. You see, you always alternate. Somewhere you are very pompous, and somewhere you are very -- very humble.

And so we can say that the 19th century is distinctly one of political ideology, of political talk. And as I said, we are now living in a century of economic predominance. The talk is about economics every day in the paper. At least, that's the leading thing.

Now since I already tried to explain to you that in the 18th century, religion was the headline, but underneath of course, there were political, legal, and property questions, and economic questions, it is obvious that this today is the case again. It isn't that we can talk in religious terms first, but they are there. If a man, as I said, if the schoolteacher feels wrong in her conscience that her child should go, you see, to this inferiority complex--which today is called a modern school--and she feels bound to watch over the genius of this child, her { } had not -- { } destroyed, she is in conscience-bound, and there's -- certainly against the economics; it's much more expensive, as you know, to bring up a child yourself. And -- it may very -- she may transgress the laws from her state, but

who wouldn't go with her into prison? The same, like this newspaperwoman of the Herald Tribune in New York, who -- you remember, two months ago went to prison, because she couldn't -- she couldn't give away her informer. That's a religious question, is it not? The laws of the state say she has no right to keep it a secret. But her professional religion is that she must. So she goes to prison. Who was it?

(Marie {Torres}.)

Wie?

(Marie {Torres}.)

Well, I'm glad somebody knows.

So the -- the religious, and the political, and the economic issue are always there, because the day-by-day living, the future of the human race, and native conditions of speech, of -- of -- of custom, of geography, of climate are also with us all the time. And of { } -- of race, or whatever you call it. And so we have a -- a tripartite history always. A threefold stra- -- three strands make out the historical march of events: a religious, political, economic. But we can say that from 1800 to 18- -- to 1950, people like you are lulled into the certainty that there is only a political history necessary to know, that you can discount the religious history. And even to the crusade of Mr. Eisenhower in -- in Europe, and to Mr. Hoover's presidency, the politics of the country seemed to be more or less above economics. You could starve to death as a citizen of the United States in 1930, and Mr. Hoover thought he couldn't do anything about it. That had nothing to do with the law of the land.

So we have a -- a strictly political approach to history -- to the history of the United States, officially at least, from 1780 to 1933, I would say, to the New Deal. Then comes in a new aspect, you see, of history, that history is there, for example, to develop productivity, you see, under public sanction, that it isn't left to accident how much steel is produced in this country, which is a very real question. And -- so economics at this moment are certainly in the foreground, as compared to 1928, when you had to decide, I mean, the old-fashioned question whether a Catholic could become president of the United States. That's a purely -- quarrel between Church and state. Obviously no economic issue involved at all. It's obsolete at this moment, because the only question of this country is: shall we have a government in authority, or shall we have a -- a government of inflation? A government of inflation has no authority. So that's the choice in the next election. And whether it's called Kennedy or Rockefeller makes no difference.

We have then a clear-cut break in the leading ideas of this period from 1780 to 1945. Because from 1780 on, the people kept -- are allowed to grow up in the conviction that if they share in the citizenship of this country, take part in the elections, read the newspapers, that more or less, the other things come to them pri- -- as private citizens. As you know, in the 19th century--and today, many people still in -- here in the -- in the more conservative western regions, to which the novelties always come a little later--the -- you see, the frontier is always very conservative, and always harks back to obsolete histories -- the -- here you still think that the question is: everything is between church and state, and that religion is private. So you have the greatest assembly of quack -- quacks in this -- religious quacks in this country in Los Angeles. And because the need for religion is there, but it has to be served by, so to speak, minimum groups, and dayby-day groups. The essence of the quack is that it has all -- can all be done in 24 hours. And this is quite interesting, because it is the last, I think the last outpost here in the West of the idea that religion is purely private.

I went to the library this morning, wanted to take out some books on -- on the most famous religious leaders of the 19th century. Of course, the books weren't there. Religious books aren't bought by the state university. And if there is a book -- here, I have -- finally got this book, but it is under Special Collections. It's like forbidden literature. It isn't a French novel. It's the Episcopal hymnbook.

Now the attempt -- that's why I was late, you see. I had to get this book from a special collection. That's elsewhere in the library. So.

Now I want you -- to convince you that despite the fact that I'm quite aware that we live in a secular society at this moment, and perhaps only even in a -- in a barter society, of cash or installment-plan living, with the American Express pocketbook, that still even to this day, the religious issue is with us. Bear with me, because I only want to make you see that every century makes an effort to monopolize, with its war cry, the limelight, the stage, the historical headlines. And so in the 19th century, you couldn't be mistaken by thinking politics, state rights, frontiers, conquest, colonies, whatever it is, are the only content of American history. I already mentioned to you John Brown's Body. We'll come to the Mormons later to show you that they made a desperate attempt to unite Church and state, and to save the 18th-century tradition, you see, into the 19th century, and make something, you see, a concoction, so to speak, that would cope with both ages and both eras of the American history and spirit.

So we get as a tension, as a problem, as a polarity I may say, of these last 150 years, one group, or one number of groups who try to eliminate anything ecclesiastical, and to forget the economic, and to live on a political solution only. See? They are, so to speak, the people of this age only. And I would s- -- think

that a man like Daniel Webster is a very great representative of -- of this belief, that if the people can only agree on politics, then that's all it takes, you see. That's all.

On the other hand, there are then groups who feel the curtailing of the historical scene, by only speaking politics, and by never allowing anybody to mention religion except as a private thing, you see. And they re- -- rebuke this, and they revolt like the Mormons. And then you get, of course, after Daniel Webster's death, right awail -- away the first strikes, the first revolts of the working man, and an attempt -- he had still called them mechanics. When he addressed them -- Daniel Webster addressed the workers, he wouldn't call them "workers." He still called them with the 18th-century expression, "mechanics." Then this was no class, you see. Then this was just one group in a large society, and it was not at issue, the economic problem. But as you know, for a hundred years, we have been beset by it in many ways. And so today you see the Russians offering us a purely economical solution, and we have to hold out for political and religious liberties. And you read -- Doctor Zhivago for this reason, you see, because it brings home this fact that even in Russia there is no -- not simply an economic solution.

So the interesting thing of a social history of the United States, from 1750 to this day, is this constant attempt of the spirit of the age to monopolize, to give a unified, a one-way solution and say, "Either religious unity," you see, in the little town of the -- of the Pilgrim fathers, or the political unity of the 19th century, or today, the -- the economic unity. And -- I'm -- if -- as soon as you see these orders, these front lines drawn in this way, here on the one-hand side, the impatient people who want this problem totally solved, once for all--either one Church, or one state, you see, or one economy--and on the other hand, those who say, "No, patient," there is also between the economy, and the political, and the religious, a problem to be solved, you -- I think you will get a more interesting slant on history than our textbooks give today.

I have given you three assignments about this historical approach. The American Democrat, as you well know, is a very optimistic approach in the first half of the 19th century by -- whom?

(Cooper.)

And he deserves much more credit for this period of his life in which he wrote these -- these articles on popular education than for his novels, because he was much more in earnest. He was then a grownup person. He had written those novels at a very -- you see, at a student's age. And later he tried very hard, for the last 20 years of his life, to do something really for his people. And it's still

highly optimistic, but of course it ended nowhere. It ended in nothingness. He was not able to do -- accomplish what he tried to -- to do there. But it -- I give you this to read the cheerful tone of an optimistic solution, you see, that through the right handling of the political issue, the first half of the century in -- the -- 19th, people thought they would go to Heaven in the -- automatically.

Then I gave you the second half of the 19th century, the deep dismay of Brooks Adams. And Brooks Adams comes, after all, from the famous line of presidents, the Adams family. And so you can see here, as in Henry Adams, the deep disappointment with the purely political solution. And yet no step out. And then I gave you the curse of the last 50 years, the neutrality mind, the mind who thinks he can write up this history without taking sides, without even knowing that there has to be such a trini- -- threefold history always of faith in the future, hope from the past, and love and charity in the present. And I -- that's why I gave you this textbook of Nevins and Commager, as that which you have to overcome if you want to be efficient citizens.

A man in history, whoever sees this three-stranded secret of our existence--that we live from day to day, that we are propelled into the future as by a jet, and that we are already something since our birth, from nature--whoever -- whenever you see this collision of three tenses, of three times, of three periods who make claim on us--the day, the end of time, our destiny, and our origins--when you are into this you over- -- can overlook then Mr. -- the optimism of Cooper, and the pessimism of Adams, and the neutrality of Mr. Nevins and Commager. Because in history, gentlemen, the human opinions and moods do not count. It is quite uninteresting whether John Brown trembled when he crossed Roper -- Harpers Ferry. The main point is that he went. And it is quite uninteresting what an opinion you have of me. You have to listen at this moment. If -- as long as you listen, something -- you allow something to enter you, take you by surprise. Your sitting here in history is more important than what you think. Now that's in rever- -- the reverse what you think, of course, of the importance of your opinions. I know that.

But if I see a -- a hypocrite going to the stripteaser, and Sunday to church, I know that it isn't important what he thinks. He is -- thinks he is a churchgoing Christian, you see. But I know that while he goes to the stripteaser, he is just a pig.

So what we do counts in history. Please remember this. And therefore, optimism, pessimism, and neutrality are three attitudes are -- that are perfectly uninteresting for history. The neutral is always fed by other people's laws, and movements, you see, because he's pushed on in the street. He's nowhere. You can't be neutral in history. And in effect, I mean, if you are neutral, you take

sides. To be neutral is a decision, just as much as not to be neutral. And you can be neutral in this sense, but then you must know that you are responsible for your neutrality, just as much as somebody, you see, who is -- taken sides. The neutral has decided not to help one of the two sides.

I have seen people--it's terrible to behold--in -- at an accident pass the -- the victim who had fallen down on the street, you see, without lifting a finger. That's neutrality. But then you have decided that this person doesn't deserve your help. And if you read these neutral histories of the United States, gentlemen, I, as a newcomer to this country, as a poor immigrant, as a citizen secondclass, I can only say that if -- I have to lift a hand in any crisis, to this country, because I'm proud that I'm here. But I see that today people boast that they can be neutral and sink back, and first take stock of their wonderful opinions and -- before they rush to help.

And so I gave you these three assignments to show you that the 19th century has based its decisions on optimism, pessimism, and neutrality, and that this is of no interest whatsoever. If Mr. Dulles has cancer, and he is very pessimistic, probably, he has to make his decision on Berlin just the same. Whether he is in a pessimistic mood or an optimistic mood can make no difference for this decision. And we all hope it will not. How can a mood make the difference? But this is today the question: Are you an optimist? Are you a pessimist? Gentlemen, it doesn't count in history. This is a -- your private mood. Moods are -- may be private, you see, but decisions aren't.

I have made up my mind, before going back to the beginning, and showing you in the Free Masons and in the currency of the United States, and all the symbolism of the early republic, the honest attempt to go purely secular, to forget about religion, and to have it all out on a new basis of purely secularized pol- -- history and politics, that all through this century, despite this honest effort of the leading statesmen to unite the people in spite their religious squabbles, there has been always a religious issue right through the century from 1780 to -- and I put these dates rather pedantically, so that you see that there are epochs in human history. And I will give you two examples of this abiding religious tradition. The an- -- I will -- may state it in this way. The political and governmental principles of the United States were based on the assumption that the edu- -- education by the Church had done its trick, that anybody who now entered into the political compound was not an idolater, was not a pagan, but had already received a certain status, you see, by which he was able to enjoy the fruits of his religious instruction of the forgoing Christian era.

You see this, it's my first incident, from the famous decision to mobilize troops against the Mormons when they proclaimed Islamic -- a Muslim tenet of

polygamy. Mormonism is--we shall see this, I think, to a larger extent even later developed--is a revival on this shores of Islam. It is -- has two tenets. No -- no spirits. The -- any primitive community, pre-Christian community, pre-revelation community is held together by the use of a common drink, of a common fermented drink--whether it's rice wine, or it's wine, or beer, or -- or whiskey, whatever have you, you see, all pre-Christian communities based their cohesion and their enthusiasm by -- by -- on the support of liquors. All attempts of go -- getting beyond the national boundaries, therefore, have always attempted, like Mohammed, to break up these communities with regard to their special drink.

When the Bavarians, in the First World War -- you know, the famous producers of the Bavarian beer, fought side by side with the Bulgarians, one of their officers was quite peeved, because the -- the -- they didn't like the Bulgarians, the Bavarians. And Bulgarians, you know, are these interesting Balkan peo- -- people. And my friend, this officer, said, "Why don't you like them? I think they are wonderful. They are farmers. They are shepherds. They are strong people. They are -- they are sober, brave. Why -- what's the matter?"

Well, they had no answer. They said they had -- he had -- they had no culture.

He said, "That's no answer to me. What do you mean, they have no culture? Think it over. Tell me next morning."

So next morning, he asked again, "Now, what's the matter with your enmity to the Bulgar- -- towards the Bulgarians?"

They said, "They drink no beer."

You see. They don't drink beer. And that's -- for any primitive group a good enough reason. They don't eat the same food. They don't drink the same thing. That sets them apart. Like the Jews are set apart by their diet. They are orthodox on purpose, to show that they do not wish to -- to disappear, so to speak, among the Gentiles.

So the Mormons, of course, abolished the -- the liquors. And polygamy and prohibition of liquor go together in Islam, as well as in -- as in the Mormon groups. The Americans, however, decided that on their soil the religious issue of monogamy had been settled. And it is never sufficiently discussed that in a purely secular realm, as this was in the United States of America, polygamy was enough of a reason to send the Army against Utah, and to insist that they couldn't become a state unless they gave up this tenet, which was pre-Christian, or anti-Christian, or certainly not in the religious tradition of this country.

Only to show you that all the people who want to tell you that religion today does -- is ex- -- superfluous are quite mistaken. If you go to war on polygamy, you still have a religion. You know that man and his wife are created in the image of bride and bridegroom, of Christ and His church, and for this reason, it has to be monogamy, although very few Americans -- practice it. At least they pretend so. One at a time.

Now it may be that the weakening of the monogamous tradition has reached a state at this moment that you -- we couldn't be quite sure whether the American soldiers would march against such a colony in a Caribbean island, let us say, you see, because polygamy's out of the question. I'm not so sure now. But in 19- -- 1868, it was. And that's all that counts at this moment. I wanted to show you that all through the 19th century, religion was there.

My other example is a little more subtle, but I think even more striking. In the long run, I think it may stay with you and make a -- more lasting impression.

The 19th century tried to break the monopoly of religious history, of ecclesiastical history. We told this. And the outcome of this has been the Unitarian movement. The Unitarianism, in England and the United States, came as a reflection of the rights of men in the French Revolution, and the greatest Unitarian in Boston was Channing -- William Ellery Channing. Has anybody heard his name? I put him down because of his life dates. We'll have to say something about him later. William Ellery Channing.

Now -- the content of Unitarianism, you see, his life covers the optimistic period of the American secular history. Born in -- in the midst of the Revolution War, and lives to 1842 -- quite important, before the annexation of Texas, before the darkening of the horizon to the Civil War, you see, because that was felt by the optimists at that time, you see, the -- the end of the optimism. They then knew that's -- the catastrophe was brewing of the Civil War. And he wrote violently against the annexation of Texas for this reason, just before he died, because he felt that this -- you see, would shatter all his mystical claim that man was in uni- -- unity with God as his -- the founder of the Christian religion. And the essence of the Unitarianism is an appeal to reason that everybody can be as good as the savior of the world. That's -- the tenet of Unitarianism, as you know, is doing away with the Trinity and saying that everybody is able to -- to represent the divine on earth themselves.

Now my story goes on like that. In 1841, a Unitarian in England, Sarah Flower Adams, who was a great poetess, but who -- and was a Unitarian, but still hadn't severed her bonds with Christianity, wrote a famous hymn. And of course this hymn began -- and her works are not in the library of this great university.

Sarah Flowers Adams is her name, died in 1842, and wrote in 1841 the famous hymn, "Nearer, My God, to Thee." Now this hymn supposedly, you may have heard, was played when this -- "Titanic" s- -- went down, on April 15th, 1912, with 1500 leading socialites from New York and America. And this famous disaster then was transfigured by the fact that allegedly the chapel played to the last, "Nearer, My God, to Me." Now you see, Channing, the great prophet of Unitarianism; the authoress of the song; and the disaster of the "Titanic" then had something to do with each other. It hasn't been proven that the hymn was played at that time.

You'll allow me one more minute.

But I ran into something that may be of interest to you as California people. While I was browsing through the library, I found that Mrs. -- the wife of Joachin Miller -- you say [Jo-AAH-kin] or [Jo-AY-kin] -- or how do you pronounce it? Wie?

(Wah-KEEN.)

[Yo-ah-KEEN], yes. His -- original name of the poor man was Cincinnatus. Did you know that? Cincinnatus. You remember my Order of the -- Society of the Order of Cincinnatus? Well, his father was still an old-fashioned, you see, Cincinnatus man, and he baptized the boy "Cincinnatus" in 1841. But then he couldn't stand it, and -- and so he -- he picked up this -- this pen name, Joaquin Miller. Now in 1913, the end came to him on February 17th, 1913, one year after the Titanic sank.

"His wife, telling of his death, as reported at the time by a local paper, said, "On Sunday, he admired the sunset, and later on the evening stars. Then I sang him to sleep with 'Nearer, my God, to Thee.'"

I think that's a very significant story that in 1913, this radical of the West, you see, was put to sleep in hi- -- on his dying day by this hymn, composed in 18- -- 19- -- in 1841, by a Unitarian, and that {Unitarianism} again goes back to -- of course Thomas Paine's Common Sense, and the days in which Channing was born. You have here 150 years, you see, of an unbroken tradition. There is a language. And I ask your permission next time to read the text of this minimum of religion, so to speak, because of -- one has rightly said, Unitarianism is the minimum religion, you see. It's an attempt to try to -- how little you can live religiously.