One of the most confusing incidents in the history of Roman Catholicism in the United States is the condemnation of Americanism by Pope Leo XIII. In his apostolic letter, Testem Benevolentiae, of January 22, 1899, Pope Leo condemned those methods of apologetics which stressed natural virtues to the neglect of dogmatic teachings and those notions of spiritual direction which insisted on individual inspiration and the active virtues in preference to external guidance and the passive virtues. These doctrines had acquired the name of Americanism in European theological circles, partly as a result of the French adaptation of the biography of Father Isaac Hecker written in English by Father Walter Elliott, and partly as a result of a controversy waged in several European Catholic periodicals. The subsequent denials of most of the American prelates that the heretical Americanism ever existed in the United States, together with the counter-charges of certain conservative prelates and foreign-language groups, only add to the confusion of the historical account. The astute silence of most Catholic historians on the controversy for fear of reawakening the sharp animosities of the time has given rise to many misconceptions about the affair, even causing some suspicion that Pope Leo in some way condemned American national traits or even the loyalty of American Catholics to American political institutions.

It is now two hundred years since the birth of Thomas Jefferson. His name has become one of the major symbols in the tradition we call American. The personality of the man shows vigorously in his letters, in the results of his policies as a leader and in the restored Monticello which he loved more than any other spot on the face of the earth. We study his personality because of his interest in science, his appreciation of invention, but surely not because of his metaphysics. We admire him because of his belief in progress, but not because he avowed himself a materialist. We remember him because he could see in outline the drama of a growing United States, but not because of his perverse judgments on New England leaders. Those who love America as it is, can see the results of his policy in our imperial domain and in the establishment of political traditions that still seem valid for contemporary life. To those who dream of a society that yet is not, Jefferson stands as a symbol of the new world, the progenitor of benevolent reforms that may yet make men happy. Both the realist and the Utopian can find in the complexities of Jefferson's personality much that gives them encouragement and emotional support. We see Jefferson's work in the living America, both that which is and that which many believe ought to be.

It is a terribly responsible task to write on Polish-Russian relations at the present moment. It is a moment of dangerous tension in these relations, perhaps even of decisive crisis. Therefore, everything should be avoided that could contribute on either side to excitement which would be equally harmful to the two countries concerned and to the United Nations as a whole. Since the reciprocal misunderstanding has, to a large extent, historical bases, the more realistic approach to the problem would seem to be simply to forget the whole historical background and to look for an entirely new start.

Joachim De Flora, the Calabrian Abbot whom Dante places in Paradise as “one who possessed the spirit of prophecy,” had foreseen the year 1260 as the beginning of a new age. And there is asense in which we may consider him justified. History is a continuous process—Joachim himself made the fruitio of one age the preparatio of the next—but there are certain periods that give the impression of turning points.

The Storm of the revolution of 1917 not only swept away the old Russian historical landmarks, but it also spread confusion among the leaders of literary and philosophical movements of the time. On the eve of the great upheaval, Russia had known what can be called a true spiritual and artisticrenaissance. It was the period of Diagilev's Russian Ballet, of Stravinsky's first masterpieces, of Chaliapin's and Rachmaninov's triumphs, and of the creation of the “World of Art”, a brilliant school of painters. In the field of literature and thought, Dostoievsky's posthumous influence was still strongly felt. There were the trends of religious philosophy developed by Vladimir Soloviev and the ethical doctrines of Tolstoy. There were the writings of Leonid Andreiev and the rising fame of Gorky. Vassily Rozanov, Nicholas Berdiaev and Dmitry Merejkovsky stimulated a deeper and more direct understanding of Christianity. They threw new light on spiritual and social problems.

For Thought and art and even for politics in the United States, the publication of this Peguy book is one of the important events of the past three decades. It is nearly thirty years since Charles Péguy fell, leading his men, in the first battle of the Marne. Yet, so fatas I am aware, no attempt has been made before to translate into English any substantial portion of the extensive work he managed to write and to print, through his own little publishing house in Paris, during a short life of forty-one years. A powerful poet, a moving and profoundly original prose writer, an intellectual and moral force of the highest rank, Péguy's place is already secure as one of less thana score of the world's leading men of letters of the last half century. The only other writers of his generation in France who have as sure a place as he in the history of French literature are threeartists of a very different kind: Proust, Gide, and Valéry.