A man is as old as his arteries-said a doctor; as his muscles, said the athlete; as his gonads, said the voluptuary; as his amusements, said the philosopher; as his impulses, said the physiologist; as his disappointments, said the cynic; as his hopes and enthusiasms, said the poet.

Some of the News Items about the Bolsheviki remind me of the old saying of the Jerseyites, "There aren't any mosquitoes in our place, but every other town in the State is just thick with them."

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My Country.

Patriotism and Nationalism are the common enthusiasm and urge of race members for a purpose, not as an end in itself. If that purpose is merely increase of power or land or money for the particular Nation; if it is, in a word, autocratic, then I for one see no great Virtue in the trait. If it is an ideal of liberalism, of greater justice, wisdom, and ordered freedom for the individual composing the Nation, then I welcome it as a great and good thing.

Entangling Alliances.

A union with liberalizing forces wherever situated cannot, as far as I can conceive, jeopardize our Institutions or our Interests. There is a form of entangling alliance, however, to which Democracies are prone, namely, those with Privilege and Graft. These open the way to International jealousies, recriminations, rivalries and wars. Each aggression, abroad, of big business backed by Government, starts up an enemy or an enmity, as each aggression, at home, starts a chain of resentment and rancor, as witness, Ireland, Corea, Japan et tutti quanti.

BETWEEN THE LINES.
Joy-Riding With Freud.

We are beginning to sense psycho-analytic implications in art, literature and life which must quite have escaped our unenlightened forbears. To take a poem, a

picture, a passion, literally, nowadays, is to miss half your life, really. It is remarkable how this goes into the highways and by-ways of Man's expression of himself in words, colors or tones. Of course, it is a commonplace that myths are the dream-wishes, the repressed or sublimated, inchoate desires of the early race, that fables are purely a product of the unconscious, largely charged with libido, mainly symbolic and without selfknown intention, endeavoring to avoid the censor by means of symbols, paradox, hyperbole, and other dreamwork. Maybe you know all this, but, maybe, too, you have not seen all its applications. Quite possibly it has never occurred to you that Father Freud can give us valuable, if heretofore hidden, points on Mother Goose. Read over the old lady's Nursery Rhymes in the light of what we know about libido, and it will open your eyes. Take any of the apparently harmless jingles, quite at random. There is "Mary, Mary." Superficially, quite innocent. But the very first line indicates that the heroine had an abnormal psycho-sexual make-up. "Mary, Mary, quite contrary." "And how does her garden grow?" It is obviously a dream-garden, full of strange things which never grew; of "silver bells and cockle shells," than which nothing could be more symbolic. The last line tells the tale, and gives Mary's unconsciousness away. "And pretty girls, all of a row." There is no doubt whatever, in my mind, that this is a frank manifestation of the Oedipous complex. Mary

loved her father so much that when her libido was withdrawn from him at the epoch time of sex differentiation, it failed to fasten naturally on an individual of the opposite sex, and became morbidly and homo-sexually attached. It is rare to find such frank defiance of the censor, as that expressed in the last line. The only sublimation is the suggestion of a garden as the scene of these morbid feelings and activities. I have shown, elsewhere, that "Sing a Song of Six-Pence," is a repressed paean to elemental race desires; food hunger, gold hunger, and sex hunger; the King, counting out his money; the Queen, eating bread and honey; the Maid, hanging out the clothes, is highly suspicious of exhibitionism. We know that lingerie on the line, is always a symbol of sexattraction. And then, the blackbird, that snipped off her nose! Not only is the nose a sexual symbol from classic times, but the sadistic trait of the predatory bird is most striking. An unusually frank exposé, for a Fairy tale. I find undoubted evidence of morbid, nay, hysteric, spirit in Little Jack Horner. He sat in the corner, eating his Christmas pie. Solitary, you see, avoiding his natural

associates, and that, too, at a time of general jollity and good-cheer in crowds. Why, did he seek the corner? It is not alone, or entirely, a sense of guilt, the more poignant because subjectively ignored, and sublimated into a desire for pie. The clue is given, naively, but unmistakably, by the rhyme, itself. He stuck in his thumb. Superficial readers think, of course, he stuck his thumb in the pie. But that is nonsense. He could not "draw out a plum" in that clumsy fashion. No, this is pure symbolism. Like other little boys, before and since Freud, he stuck his thumb in his mouth. And, I do not need to tell you what repressed desires his "unconscious" registered by that. That is about all, for the present. Some day, however, I am going to tell you things, Freudian things, about the multiplication table that will make your hair stand on end. Incidentally, this is itself an instance of sublimation and symbolism. It really means something else!

Human Nature.

The essential Blasphemy is not Denial of God, but Denial of the basic Decency of Man. And just as there are those who never call on their Creator except in Despair or Hatred, so there are those who never speak of Human Nature unless by it they mean all the Vileness, none of the Goodness, of which they feel their own little selves capable. To say that a scheme is Utopian because environment, may not at once adapt itself, is to say that Human Nature, made vile and dirty by a vile and dirty the crooked, stunted plant, product of a dark cellar, is an argument against sunshine and a warm soil. Selfishness is no more inherent in us than self-sacrifice; the truth as well as the lie is implicit in Man; and decent conditions will bring out one, as indecent, unjust, and oppressive conditions will foster the others.

Benefactors.

The essence of liberality is not necessarily in giving, and the milk of human kindness is not distilled from dollars nor secreted by the pocketbook. I know of more than one Lady Bountiful whose instinct is suspicion of her neighbors, her thought more or less good-natured or critical, patronizing, and whose words are scandal in which malice is implicit. She might give till Doomsday without ever discovering the real secret of Charity, which consists, so little in giving, and so infinitely much in a big, generous instinct, which gathers itself from a universal diffusion, humanity, to bless one, The Milk of human kindness comes from the Breast, and not from the Purse. P. H. F.

And the chieftains of the nations

Called together all their wise men, Called the wise men of the nations.

From the North and from the Southland, From the East and West they gathered At the call of the great chieftains. They, too, gazed upon the waters,

Gushing from the mystic mountains,
Bubbling with warm life abundant;

And they told the waiting chieftains,
These were e'en the healing waters,
Of their dreams and ancient promise.

Then a truce among the peoples,

Was declared between the nations, With the Sioux and the Dakotas, With the Ouichatas and Quapaws, With the Seminoles and Hurons, With the Creeks and Minnesotas.

All agreed to use the waters,

For the banishing of devils, For the resting of the weary,

For the healing of the wounded, And no harm should come to any

Gathered here in peace together. Then like leaves blown from the forest,

Indians from all tribes together, Came with sadness, came with wonder, Came with dire, dread diseases, Came to drink the holy waters,

And to bathe in their hot splendorBoth the poor ones and the wealthy,

Sang and danced with joyous laughter, Singing praises of the waters,

That had freed them from their ailments,

To return unto their people,

Strong, restored in health and youthful.

When the white men, seeking riches,

Ventured over the great ocean,
Leaving wives and sons and daughters
Searching for the road to India,
On the Island of Espanola,

Found they red men of the waters.
Chieftains told the brave Columbus,
Greatest he of Spain's great sailors,
Of the steaming, bubbling fountains,
Blest of God to heal the nations,
Made to cure the ills of people,
Flowing, sparkling from the mountains.

Told him of the old made youthful,

Of the frail made well and happy, Of the wounded healed and ready For the hunting and the battle. Told him how the blind were seeing,

How the lame once more walked nimbly.

And this tale of matchless wonder,

Told to him with simple candor, Took he back to Spain with gladness. So he told it to the people,

To the king and queen he told it,

But they deemed it traveler's madness. Then there came the great De Soto, Seeking for the magic fountain, Searching for the wondrous water,

Which would give him youth eternal,
Youth and strength again for battle,

And would fill his heart with laughter.
But, although he found these waters,
Gushing forth in all their splendor,
Steaming, bubbling, singing skyward,
'Twas too late for him to profit
By the magic of their healing-

The Great Spirit called him onward.
Then for years the noble red men

Gathered here from all the nations, Gaining health and strength and gladness, Till the white men came in myriads, Came with all their sins and vileness,

And the red men left in sadness. Left to wander ever onward,

Seeking always for another Spring of water, hot and steaming,

Like the ones the wicked white men Stole from them with base intentions, Stole and kept with wanton scheming. But in spite of vile corruption

Of betrayers of their brothers, Skilled physicians trained in healing,

Who for gold would sell their birthright,
Prostituting all their learning,

Still the waters, ever stealing
From the depths within the mountains,

Kept their virtue unpolluted;

Kept their sparkling, steaming splendor
For the healing of the people,

For the curing of their illness,

With new strength and warmth and cleansing.