Monday, November 20, 2017

How to Negotiate Effectively - David Oliver

Negotiation is never about digging our heels in.
. . . . .  .
 A number of possibilities exist about the way we view the negotiation process. The moderately aggressive stance is where we look out primarily for a strong gain for ourselves. The win-win concept is where we look for our best interests, if served well, can often serve ours even better. To be effective, both parties must feel they have won.

How to Negotiate Effectively - David Oliver

- Negotiations,

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Counting Coop: Woodcraft and Indian Lore Earnest Thomspon

HEAD BAND
Each brave needs a head band This holds his feathers as they are won and his scalp if he wears one is fastened to it behind It consists of a strip of soft leather long enough to go around the head and overlap by two inches it is fastenedat the rear with a lace through the four holes like the lace of machine belting A bead pattern ornaments the front and it may be finished at each side in some broader design It is the foundation for the warbonnet and has places for twenty four feathers two eagle tails See Warbonnet later The feathers are made of white quill feathers the tip dyed dark brown or black a leather loop is lashed to the quill end of each to fasten it on to the head band Each feather stands for an exploit and is awarded by the Council An oval of paper is glued on near the high end This bears a symbol of the feat it commemorates If it was Grand Coup or High Honor the feather has a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top

WARBONNET OR HEADDRESS ITS MEANING

The typical Indian is always shown with a warbonnet or warcap of eagle feathers Every one is familiar with the look of this headdress but I find that few know its meaning or why the Indian glories in it so In the days when the Redman was unchanged by white men's ways every feather in the brave's headdress was awarded to him by the Grand Council for some great deed usually in warfare Hence the expression a feather in his cap These deeds are now called coups pronounced coo and when of exceptional valor they were grand coups and the eagle's feather had a tuft of horsehair or down fastened on its top Not only was each feather bestowed for some exploit but there were also ways of marking the feathers so as to show the kind of deed Old plainsmen give an exciting picture in Indian life after the return of a successful war party All assemble in the Grand Council lodge of the village First the leader of the party stands up holding in his hands or having near him the scalps or other trophies he has taken and says in a loud voice Great Chief and Council of my Nation I claim a grand coup because I went alone into the enemy's camp and learned about their plans and when I came away I met one of them and killed him within his own camp Then if all the witnesses grunt and say Hul or Howl Howl So it is so the Council awards the warrior an eagle feather with a red tuft and a large red spot on the web which tell why it was given The warrior goes on I claim grand coup because I slapped the enemy's face with my hand thereby warning him and increasing the risk before I killed him with my knife A loud chorus of Howl Howl Howl from the others sustains him and he is awarded another grand coup I claim grand coup because I captured his horse while two of his friends were watching Here perhaps there are murmurs of dissent from the witnesses another man claims that he also had a hand in it There is a dispute and maybe both are awarded a coup but neither gets grand coup The feathers are marked with a horseshoe but without a red tuft The killing of one enemy might according to Mallery 4 Ann Eth p 184 confer feathers on four different men the first second and third to strike him and the one who took his scalp After the chief each of the warriors comes forward in turn and claims and is awarded his due honors to be worn ever afterward on state occasions All awards are made and all disputes settled by the Council and no man would dream of being so foolish as to wear an honor that had not been conferred by them or in any way to dispute their ruling In the light of this we see new interest attach to the headdress of some famous warrior of the West when he is shown with a circle of tufted feathers around his head and then added to that a tail of one hundred or more reaching to the ground or trailing behind him We know that like the rows of medals on an old soldier's breast they are the record of wonderful past achievements that every one of them was won perhaps at the risk of his life What wonder is it that travelers on the plains to day tell us that the Indian values his headdress above all things else He would usually prefer to part with his ponies and his teepee before he will give up that array of eagle plumes the only tangible record that he has of whatever was heroic in his past

PLENTY COUPS

 I remember vividly a scene I once witnessed years ago in the West when my attention was strongly directed to the significance of the warbonnet I was living among a certain tribe of Indians and one day they were subjected to a petty indignity by a well meaning ill advised missionary Two regiments of United States Cavalry were camped near and so being within the letter of the law he also had power to enforce it But this occurrence was the last of a long series of foolish small attacks on their harmless customs and it roused the Indians especially the younger ones to the point of rebellion A Grand Council was called A warrior got up and made a strong logical appeal to their manhood a tremendously stirring speech He worked them all up and they were ready to go on the warpath with him to lead them I felt that my scalp was in serious danger for an outburst seemed at hand. But now there arose a big square jawed man who had smoked in silence He made a very short speech It was full of plain good sense He told them what he knew about the United States Army how superior it was to all the Indian tribes put together how hopeless it was to fight it and urged them to give up the foob sh notion of the warpath His speech would not compare with that of the other He had neither the fire nor the words he had not even the popular sympathy and yet he quelled the disturbance in his few sentences and as I looked there dawned on me the reason for his power While the gifted orator of the big words had in his hair a single untuf ted eagle feather the other the man with the square jaw had eagle feathers all around his head and trailing down his back and two feet on the ground behind him and every one of them with a bright red tuft of horsehair at its top and I knew then that I was listening to the voice of Plenty Coups the most famous chief on the Upper Missouri and I realized how a few words from the man of deeds will go further than all the stirring speeches of one who has no record of prowess to back up his threats and fiery denunciations Tail feathers of the war eagle were considered essential at one time but many others are now used I should be sorry to increase a demand which would stimulate pursuit of a noble bird already threatened with extinction Most of the big feather dealers have what are known as white quills These are wing feathers of swans and are sold at about 25 cents a dozen These when the tips are dyed brown make a good substitute for eagle feathers They are still more like if a little down from a white hen be lashed on.

- Woodcraft and Indian Lore, Feathers, Earnest Thompson Seton, Coop, HeadDress,

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Painting is - Degas


Painting is easy when you don't know how, but very difficult when you do. 


Edgar Degas

-Art, Human Value, Doing, knowledge, Edgar Degas,

Monday, August 28, 2017

From photos and floor plans, I could write about what makes Rafe's project special. I could describe colors and light, fixtures and finishes. However, when I visited this house and sat in the living room with Rafe, I was less inclined to ask him about the design process or the trim details than I was to be quiet - to experience the house rather than deconstruct it. The building disappeared, and ease and joy settled in.
I could easily spend my time in this house, not because of the floor plan or the trim, but because it just feels right. Great design, too is a special transmission, outside the blueprints, with no dependence on fixtures and materials. It's no surprise that the designers themselves often can't explain what makes their work great.

Brian Potolilo, Design Editor
Fine Home Building Summer 2016 Editors Note
New Farmhouse construction. Clapboard. Shaker style - Rafe Churchill: Traditional Houses

Alexander Solzhenitsyn on government

If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?
The Gulag Archipelago (1973).
In our country the lie has become not just a moral category but a pillar of the State.
As quoted in The Observer (29 December 1974).
Untouched by the breath of God, unrestricted by human conscience, both capitalism and socialism are repulsive.
In his interview with Joseph Pearce. "An Interview with Alexander Solzhenitsyn." St. Austin Review 2 no. 2 (February, 2003)

Sunday, August 20, 2017

David Foster Wallace, This Is Water: Some Thoughts, Delivered on a Significant Occasion, about Living a Compassionate Life

Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.


Thursday, July 13, 2017

Change and staying the same N2

We will keep clear the distinction between “what we stand for” (which WILL never change) and “how we do things” (which should never stop changing).
N2 

Monday, July 10, 2017

New Perspectives - John James Audubon

pg 25Purple Finch
They frequently associate with the common Cross-Bills, feeding on the same trees, and like them are at times fond of alighting against the mud used for closing the log-houses. They are seldom seen on the ground, although their motions there are by no means embarrassed. They are considered as destructive birds by some farmers, who accuse them of committing great depredation on the blossoms of their fruit trees, I never observed this in Louisiana, where they remain long after the peach and pear trees are in full bloom. I have eaten many of them, and consider their flesh equal to that of any other small bird. Excepting the Rice Bunting.

Pg27 Bonaparte's fly-catcher
Monday, Agust 1301. - Lousiana - on arriving at the Cypress Swamp (about five miles from St. Francisville), I saw a great number of small birds of different species, and as I looked at them I observed to engaged in a fight or a quarrel. I shot at them, but only one fell. on reaching the spot, I found the bird was only wounded and saw it standing still and uprights as if stupified by its fall. When I approached it to pick it up, it spread its tail opened its wings and snapped it bill about twenty times sharply and in quick succession, as birds of the genus do when seizing insects on wing. I carried it home and had the pleasure of drawing it while alive and full of spirit. It often made off from my hand, by starting suddenly, and then would hop around the room as quickly as a Carolina Wren, uttering its tweet, tweet, all the while, and snapping its bill every time I took it up. I put it into a cage for a few minutes, it obstinately thrust its head through the lower parts of the wires. I relieved it from this sort of confinement and allowed it to go about the room, Next day it was very week and ruffled up, so I killed it and put it in ju spirits." to this account I have only to add, that I have not seen another individual since.

Pg 35 Purple Grakle or Common Crow-Blackbird
I could not think of any better mode of representing these birds than that which I have adopted, as it exhibits them in the exercise of their nefarious propensities. Look at them: The male, as if full of delight at the sight of the havoc which he has already committed on the tender, juicy, unripe corn on which he stands, has swelled his throat, and is calling in exultation to his companions to come and assist him in demolishing it. the female has fed herself, and is about to fly off with a well-loaded bill to her hungry and expectant brood, that, from the nest look on their [plundering parents, joyously anticipating the pleasures of which they shall ere long be allowed to participate. See who the husk is torn from the ear, and how nearly devoured are the grains of corn! This is the tithe our Blackbirds take from our planters and farmers; but it was so appointed, and such is the will of the beneficent Creator.

Ornithologic Biography volume 1



John James Audubon

April 26, 1785 – January 27, 1851

Friday, July 07, 2017

As a democracy is perfected - H.L. Mencken

 
As democracy is perfected, the office of the president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.
H.L Mencken 1880 -1956

- People, Politics, White House, democracy,

When I was a boy - Clarence Darrow

When I was a boy I was told that anybody could become president. I'm beginning to believe it.
Clarence Darrow 1857 - 1938

- President, Politics, politicians, congress,

Monday, June 26, 2017

Grief . . . . - Madeleine L'Engle

But grief still has to be worked through. It is like walking through water. Sometimes there are little waves lapping about my feet. Sometimes there is an enormous breaker that knocks me down. Sometimes there is a sudden and fierce squall. But I know that many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.
- Madeleine L'Engle

by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts - Madeleine L'Engle


“We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”


― Madeleine L'Engle

Monday, June 05, 2017

CS lewis A Word About Praising” in Reflections on the Psalms

C.S. Lewis, “A Word About Praising” in Reflections on the Psalms (New York: Harcourt, 1986) p.90-98

It is possible (and it is to be hoped) that this chapter will be unnecessary for most people. Those who were never thick-headed enough to get into the difficulty it deals with may even find it funny. I have not the least objection to their laughing; a little comic relief in the discussion does no harm, however serious the topic may be. (In my own experience, the funniest things have occurred in the gravest and most sincere conversations).

When I first began to draw near to belief in God and even for some time after it had been given to me, I found a stumbling block in the demand so clamorously made by all religious people that we should “praise” God; still more in the suggestion that God Himself demanded it. We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand. Thus a picture, at once ludicrous and horrible, both of God and of His worshippers threatened to appear in my mind. The Psalms were especially troublesome in this way – “Praise the Lord” “O praise the Lord with me,” “Praise Him” (And why, incidentally,did praising God always consist in telling other people to praise Him? Even in telling whales, snowstorms, etc, to go on doing what they would certainly do whether we told them or not?). Worse still was the statement put into God’s own mouth, “whoso offereth me thanks and praise, he honoreth me” (50, 23). It was hideously like saying, “What I most want is to be told that I am good and great.” Worst of all was the suggestion of the very silliest Pagan bargaining, that of the savage who makes offerings to his idol when the fishing is good and beats it when he has caught nothing. More than once the Psalmist seemed to be saying, “You like praise. Do this for me, and you shall have some.” Thus in 54 the poet begins “save me” (I), and in verse 6, adds an inducement, “An offering of a free heart will I give thee, and praise thy name.” Again and again the speaker asks to be saved from death on the ground that if God lets His suppliants die HE will get no more praise from them, for the ghosts in Sheol cannot praise (30,10; 88,10; 119,175). And mere quantity of praise seemed to count; “seven times a day do I praise thee” (119,164). It was extremely distressing. It made one think what one least wanted to think. Gratitude to God, reverence to Him, obedience to Him, I thought I could understand; not this perpetual eulogy. Nor were matters mended by a modern author who talked of God’s “right” to be praised.


I still think “right” is a bad way of expressing it, but I believe I now see what that author meant. It is perhaps easiest to begin with inanimate objects which have no rights. What do we mean when we say that a picture is “admirable”? We certainly don’t mean that it is admired (that’s as may be) for bad work is admired by thousands and good work may be ignored. Nor that it “deserves” admiration in the sense in which a candidate “deserves” a high mark from the examiners – i.e. that a human being will have suffered injustice if it is not awarded. The sense in which the picture “deserves” or “demands” admiration is rather this; that admiration is the correct, adequate, appropriate, response to it, that, if paid, admiration will not be “thrown away”, and that if we do not admire we shall be stupid, insensible, and great losers, we shall have missed something. In that way many objects both h in Nature and in Art may be said to deserve, or merit, or demand, admiration. It was from this end, which will seem to some irreverent, that I found it best to approach the idea that God “demands” praise. He is that Object to admire which (or, if you like, to appreciate which) is simply to be awake, to have entered the real world; not to appreciate which is to have lost the greatest experience, and in the end to have lost all. The incomplete and crippled lives of those who are tone deaf, have never been in love, never known true friendship, never cared for a good book, never enjoyed the feel of the morning air of their cheeks, never (I am one of these) enjoyed football, are faint images of it.

But of course this is not all. God does not only “demand” praise as the supremely beautiful and all-satisfying Object. He does apparently command it as lawgiver. The Jews were told to sacrifice. We are under an obligation to go to church. But this was a difficulty only because I did not then understand any of what I have tried to say above in Chapter V. I did not see that it is in the process of being worshipped that God communicates His presence to men. It is not of course the only way. But for many people at many times the “fair beauty of the Lord” is revealed chiefly or only while they worship Him together. Even in Judaism the essence of the sacrifice was not really that men gave bulls and goats to God, but that by their so doing God gave Himself to men; in the central act of our own worship of course this is far clearer – there it is manifestly, even physically, God who gives and we who receive. The miserable idea that God should in any sense need, or crave for, our worship like a vain woman wanting compliments, or a vain author presenting his new books to people who have never met or heard of him, is implicitly answered by the words “If I be hungry I will not tell thee” (50,12). Even if such an absurd Deity could be conceived, He would hardly come to us, the lowest of rational creatures, to gratify His appetite. I don’t want my dog to bark approval of my books. Now that I come to think of it, there are some humans whose enthusiastically favorable criticism would not much gratify me.

But the most obvious fact about praise – whether of God or anything – strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise unless (sometimes even if) shyness or the fear of boring others is deliberately brought in to check it. The world rings with praise – lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favorite poet, walkers praising the countryside, players praising their favorite game – praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars. I had not noticed how the humblest, and at the same time most balanced and capacious minds, praised most, while the cranks, misfits, and malcontents praised least. The good critics found something to praise in many imperfect works; the bad ones continually narrowed the list of books we might be allowed to read. The healthy and unaffected man, even if luxuriously brought up and widely experienced in good cookery, could praise a very modest meal: the dyspeptic and the snob found fault with all. Except where intolerably adverse circumstances interfere, praise almost seems to be inner health made audible. Nor does it cease to be so when, through lack of skill, the forms of its expression are very uncouth or even ridiculous. heaven knows, many poems of praise addressed to an earthly beloved are as bad as our bad hymns, and an anthology of love poems for public and perpetual use would probably be as sore a trial to literary taste as Hymns Ancient and Modern. I had not noticed either that just as men spontaneously praise whatever they value, so they spontaneously urge us to join them in praising it: “Isn’t she lovely? Wasn’t it glorious? Don’t you think that magnificent” The Psalmists in telling everyone to praise God are doing what all men do when they speak of what they care about. My whole, more general difficulty about the praise of God depended on my absurdly denying to us, as regards the supremely Valuable, what we delight to do, what we indeed cant’ help doing, about everything else we value.

I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed. It is frustrating to have discovered a new author and not to be able to tell anyone how good he is; to come suddenly at the turn of the road, upon some mountain valley of unexpected grandeur and then to have to keep silent because the people with you care for it no more than for a tin can in the ditch; to hear a good joke and find no one to share it with (the perfect hearer died a year ago). This is so even when our expressions are inadequate, as of course they usually are. But how if one could really and fully praise even such things to perfection – utterly “get out” in poetry or music of paint the upsurge of appreciation that almost bursts you? Then indeed object would be fully appreciated and our delight would have attained perfect development. The worthier the object, the more intense this delight would be. If it were possible for a created soul fully (I mean, up to the full measure conceivable in a finite being) to “appreciate”, that is to love and delight in, the worthiest object of all, and simultaneously at every moment to give this delight perfect expression, then that soul would be in supreme beautitude. It is along these lines that I find it easiest to understand the Christian doctrine that “heaven” is a state in which angels now, and men hereafter, are perpetually employed in praising God. This does not mean, as it can so dismally suggest, that it is like “being in Church”. For our “services” both in their conduct and in our power to participate, are merely attempts at worship; never fully successful, often 99.9 percent failures, sometimes total failures. We are not riders but pupils in the riding school; for most of us the falls and bruises, the aching muscles and the severity of the exercise, far outweigh those few moments in which we were, to our own astonishment, actually galloping without terror and without disaster. To see what the doctrine means, we must suppose ourselves to be in perfect love with God – drunk with, drowned in, dissolved by, that delight which, far from remaining pent up within ourselves as incommunicable, hence hardly tolerable, bliss, flows out from us incessantly again in effortless and perfect expression, our joy no more separable from the praise in which it liberates and utters itself than the brightness a mirror receives is separable from the brightness it sheds. The Scotch catechism says that man’s chief end is “to glorify God and enjoy Him forever”. But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify Him, god is inviting us to enjoy Him.

Meanwhile, of course, we are merely, as Donne says, tuning our instruments. The tuning up of the orchestra can be itself delightful, but only to those who can in some measure, however little, anticipate the symphony. The Jewish sacrifices, and even our own most sacred rites, as they actually occur in human experience, are, like the tuning, promise, not performance. Hence, like the tuning, they many have in them much duty and little delight or none. But the duty exists for the delight. When we carry out our “religious duties” we are like people digging channels in a waterless land, in order that when at last the water comes, it may find them ready. I mean, for the most part. There are happy moments, even now, when a trickle creeps along the dry beds; and happy souls to whom this happens often.

As for the element of bargaining in the Psalms (Do this and I will praise you), that silly dash of Paganism certainly existed. The flame does not ascend pure from the altar. But the impurities are not its essence. And we are not all in a position to despise even the crudest Psalmist on this score. Of course we would not blunder in our words like them. But there is, for ill as well as for good, a wordless prayer. I have often, on my knees, been shocked to find what sort of thoughts I have, for a moment, been addressing to God; what infantile placations I was really offering, what claims I have really made, even what absurd adjustments or compromises I was, half- consciously, proposing. There is a Pagan, savage heart in me somewhere. For unfortunately the folly and idiot-cunning of Paganism seem to have far more power of surviving than its innocent or even beautiful elements. It is easy, once you have power, to silence the pipes, still the dances, disfigure the statues, and forget the stories; but not easy to kill the savage, the greedy, frightened creature now cringing, now blustering, in one’s soul – the creature to whom God may well say”though thoughtest I am even such a one as thyself” (50,21).

But all this, as I have said, will be illuminating to only a few of my readers. To the others, such a comedy of errors, so circuitous a journey to reach the obvious, will furnish occasion or charitable laughter.C.S. Lewis, “A Word About Praising” in Reflections on the Psalms (New York: Harcourt, 1986) p.90-98

It is possible (and it is to be hoped) that this chapter will be unnecessary for most people. Those who were never thick-headed enough to get into the difficulty it deals with may even find it funny. I have not the least objection to their laughing; a little comic relief in the discussion does no harm, however serious the topic may be. (In my own experience, the funniest things have occurred in the gravest and most sincere conversations).

When I first began to draw near to belief in God and even for some time after it had been given to me, I found a stumbling block in the demand so clamorously made by all religious people that we should “praise” God; still more in the suggestion that God Himself demanded it. We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand. Thus a picture, at once ludicrous and horrible, both of God and of His worshippers threatened to appear in my mind. The Psalms were especially troublesome in this way – “Praise the Lord” “O praise the Lord with me,” “Praise Him” (And why, incidentally,did praising God always consist in telling other people to praise Him? Even in telling whales, snowstorms, etc, to go on doing what they would certainly do whether we told them or not?). Worse still was the statement put into God’s own mouth, “whoso offereth me thanks and praise, he honoreth me” (50, 23). It was hideously like saying, “What I most want is to be told that I am good and great.” Worst of all was the suggestion of the very silliest Pagan bargaining, that of the savage who makes offerings to his idol when the fishing is good and beats it when he has caught nothing. More than once the Psalmist seemed to be saying, “You like praise. Do this for me, and you shall have some.” Thus in 54 the poet begins “save me” (I), and in verse 6, adds an inducement, “An offering of a free heart will I give thee, and praise thy name.” Again and again the speaker asks to be saved from death on the ground that if God lets His suppliants die HE will get no more praise from them, for the ghosts in Sheol cannot praise (30,10; 88,10; 119,175). And mere quantity of praise seemed to count; “seven times a day do I praise thee” (119,164). It was extremely distressing. It made one think what one least wanted to think. Gratitude to God, reverence to Him, obedience to Him, I thought I could understand; not this perpetual eulogy. Nor were matters mended by a modern author who talked of God’s “right” to be praised.


I still think “right” is a bad way of expressing it, but I believe I now see what that author meant. It is perhaps easiest to begin with inanimate objects which have no rights. What do we mean when we say that a picture is “admirable”? We certainly don’t mean that it is admired (that’s as may be) for bad work is admired by thousands and good work may be ignored. Nor that it “deserves” admiration in the sense in which a candidate “deserves” a high mark from the examiners – i.e. that a human being will have suffered injustice if it is not awarded. The sense in which the picture “deserves” or “demands” admiration is rather this; that admiration is the correct, adequate, appropriate, response to it, that, if paid, admiration will not be “thrown away”, and that if we do not admire we shall be stupid, insensible, and great losers, we shall have missed something. In that way many objects both h in Nature and in Art may be said to deserve, or merit, or demand, admiration. It was from this end, which will seem to some irreverent, that I found it best to approach the idea that God “demands” praise. He is that Object to admire which (or, if you like, to appreciate which) is simply to be awake, to have entered the real world; not to appreciate which is to have lost the greatest experience, and in the end to have lost all. The incomplete and crippled lives of those who are tone deaf, have never been in love, never known true friendship, never cared for a good book, never enjoyed the feel of the morning air of their cheeks, never (I am one of these) enjoyed football, are faint images of it.

But of course this is not all. God does not only “demand” praise as the supremely beautiful and all-satisfying Object. He does apparently command it as lawgiver. The Jews were told to sacrifice. We are under an obligation to go to church. But this was a difficulty only because I did not then understand any of what I have tried to say above in Chapter V. I did not see that it is in the process of being worshipped that God communicates His presence to men. It is not of course the only way. But for many people at many times the “fair beauty of the Lord” is revealed chiefly or only while they worship Him together. Even in Judaism the essence of the sacrifice was not really that men gave bulls and goats to God, but that by their so doing God gave Himself to men; in the central act of our own worship of course this is far clearer – there it is manifestly, even physically, God who gives and we who receive. The miserable idea that God should in any sense need, or crave for, our worship like a vain woman wanting compliments, or a vain author presenting his new books to people who have never met or heard of him, is implicitly answered by the words “If I be hungry I will not tell thee” (50,12). Even if such an absurd Deity could be conceived, He would hardly come to us, the lowest of rational creatures, to gratify His appetite. I don’t want my dog to bark approval of my books. Now that I come to think of it, there are some humans whose enthusiastically favorable criticism would not much gratify me.

But the most obvious fact about praise – whether of God or anything – strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise unless (sometimes even if) shyness or the fear of boring others is deliberately brought in to check it. The world rings with praise – lovers praising their mistresses, readers their favorite poet, walkers praising the countryside, players praising their favorite game – praise of weather, wines, dishes, actors, motors, horses, colleges, countries, historical personages, children, flowers, mountains, rare stamps, rare beetles, even sometimes politicians or scholars. I had not noticed how the humblest, and at the same time most balanced and capacious minds, praised most, while the cranks, misfits, and malcontents praised least. The good critics found something to praise in many imperfect works; the bad ones continually narrowed the list of books we might be allowed to read. The healthy and unaffected man, even if luxuriously brought up and widely experienced in good cookery, could praise a very modest meal: the dyspeptic and the snob found fault with all. Except where intolerably adverse circumstances interfere, praise almost seems to be inner health made audible. Nor does it cease to be so when, through lack of skill, the forms of its expression are very uncouth or even ridiculous. heaven knows, many poems of praise addressed to an earthly beloved are as bad as our bad hymns, and an anthology of love poems for public and perpetual use would probably be as sore a trial to literary taste as Hymns Ancient and Modern. I had not noticed either that just as men spontaneously praise whatever they value, so they spontaneously urge us to join them in praising it: “Isn’t she lovely? Wasn’t it glorious? Don’t you think that magnificent” The Psalmists in telling everyone to praise God are doing what all men do when they speak of what they care about. My whole, more general difficulty about the praise of God depended on my absurdly denying to us, as regards the supremely Valuable, what we delight to do, what we indeed cant’ help doing, about everything else we value.

I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed. It is frustrating to have discovered a new author and not to be able to tell anyone how good he is; to come suddenly at the turn of the road, upon some mountain valley of unexpected grandeur and then to have to keep silent because the people with you care for it no more than for a tin can in the ditch; to hear a good joke and find no one to share it with (the perfect hearer died a year ago). This is so even when our expressions are inadequate, as of course they usually are. But how if one could really and fully praise even such things to perfection – utterly “get out” in poetry or music of paint the upsurge of appreciation that almost bursts you? Then indeed object would be fully appreciated and our delight would have attained perfect development. The worthier the object, the more intense this delight would be. If it were possible for a created soul fully (I mean, up to the full measure conceivable in a finite being) to “appreciate”, that is to love and delight in, the worthiest object of all, and simultaneously at every moment to give this delight perfect expression, then that soul would be in supreme beautitude. It is along these lines that I find it easiest to understand the Christian doctrine that “heaven” is a state in which angels now, and men hereafter, are perpetually employed in praising God. This does not mean, as it can so dismally suggest, that it is like “being in Church”. For our “services” both in their conduct and in our power to participate, are merely attempts at worship; never fully successful, often 99.9 percent failures, sometimes total failures. We are not riders but pupils in the riding school; for most of us the falls and bruises, the aching muscles and the severity of the exercise, far outweigh those few moments in which we were, to our own astonishment, actually galloping without terror and without disaster. To see what the doctrine means, we must suppose ourselves to be in perfect love with God – drunk with, drowned in, dissolved by, that delight which, far from remaining pent up within ourselves as incommunicable, hence hardly tolerable, bliss, flows out from us incessantly again in effortless and perfect expression, our joy no more separable from the praise in which it liberates and utters itself than the brightness a mirror receives is separable from the brightness it sheds. The Scotch catechism says that man’s chief end is “to glorify God and enjoy Him forever”. But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify Him, god is inviting us to enjoy Him.

Meanwhile, of course, we are merely, as Donne says, tuning our instruments. The tuning up of the orchestra can be itself delightful, but only to those who can in some measure, however little, anticipate the symphony. The Jewish sacrifices, and even our own most sacred rites, as they actually occur in human experience, are, like the tuning, promise, not performance. Hence, like the tuning, they many have in them much duty and little delight or none. But the duty exists for the delight. When we carry out our “religious duties” we are like people digging channels in a waterless land, in order that when at last the water comes, it may find them ready. I mean, for the most part. There are happy moments, even now, when a trickle creeps along the dry beds; and happy souls to whom this happens often.

As for the element of bargaining in the Psalms (Do this and I will praise you), that silly dash of Paganism certainly existed. The flame does not ascend pure from the altar. But the impurities are not its essence. And we are not all in a position to despise even the crudest Psalmist on this score. Of course we would not blunder in our words like them. But there is, for ill as well as for good, a wordless prayer. I have often, on my knees, been shocked to find what sort of thoughts I have, for a moment, been addressing to God; what infantile placations I was really offering, what claims I have really made, even what absurd adjustments or compromises I was, half- consciously, proposing. There is a Pagan, savage heart in me somewhere. For unfortunately the folly and idiot-cunning of Paganism seem to have far more power of surviving than its innocent or even beautiful elements. It is easy, once you have power, to silence the pipes, still the dances, disfigure the statues, and forget the stories; but not easy to kill the savage, the greedy, frightened creature now cringing, now blustering, in one’s soul – the creature to whom God may well say”though thoughtest I am even such a one as thyself” (50,21).

But all this, as I have said, will be illuminating to only a few of my readers. To the others, such a comedy of errors, so circuitous a journey to reach the obvious, will furnish occasion or charitable laughter.

- King, Queen, Praise, Ego, Egotistical, Humanism,

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