love — so out of touch with realnlove that it even defines then”right to privacy” as the licensento insert a suction tube . . . intonthe mother’s womb to kill anbaby, now claims only it cannprovide the covering for thisnvulnerable child. At the samentime, the State offers nonprotection and support to thenfamily’s claim to privacy againstnthe social suction tubes … ofnthe . . . department of HumannServices. . . . Insteadnof . . . protection from [falsenaccusations of child abuse], thenState encourages, throughnpromised anonymity andnimmunity, . . . devastating blowsnto the family’s sheltered wombnof personal and social integrity.nFew people, I daresay, would detectnmuch moral difference between thenperpetrators of such “cleansings andnhealings” and the perhaps more noblynmotivated witch-hunters of the past.nThe ostensible intent to “help” is stillnthere, but now the inexorable coercionnof this philanthropy is applied by busybodiesnwho believe ultimately not inneternal salvation, but in temporaln”health” and “safety.” As the old Inquisitionntried to save people forever spirituallynby forcing them to think and tonspeak in accordance with Catholic orthodoxy,nso modern “health professionals”nof every stripe attempt to exactnconformity to their state-licensed authoritynin every sphere of bodily andnpsychological life. The evil of both liesnin their denial of the individual’s personalnresponsibility before God; andnthus, in the name of eliminating allnrisks, they eliminate both the freedomnand the humanity of those they purportnto save.nThe Bill of Rights in the U.S. Constitution,nthat beleaguered guardian ofnour individual liberties, grew orit of thenassumption that free men would alwaysnunderstand and embrace their personalnresponsibilities. The amendments werenwritten by Europeans of Christian backgroundnwho well knew the sinful tendencynof majorities to oppress the consciencesnand persons of dissenters, and itnis no accident that the primal liberty ofnconscience guaranteed by the FirstnAmendment is immediately bolsterednby the implied right of self-defensenguaranteed in the Second Amendment.nThe one thing our Founding Fathersnfeared more than anything was an allpowerfulnstate operating under the mysticalnmajoritarian authority of “the people.”nIronically, however, the Calvinistnbelief in general human depravity,nwhich led the Founders to limit thenpowers of government, has since degeneratedninto a pseudo-Calvinist assumptionnof general human incompetence,nleading inexorably (unless we repent) tonthe unlimited social and moral surveillancenof Big Brother.nAs the traditional nesting grounds ofnpersonal responsibility, the Church andnthe family have been bulwarks againstnthe encroachment of state authoritynthroughout this nation’s history. Butnnow, with the Church increasingly betrayednfrom within by the acceptance ofnhumanist doctrines and with the familynemasculated to a degree unprecedentednin any age, little — if anything —nremains to protect an individual fromnthe commodious jaws of social planningnmonopolists intent on making the worldnvery safe for themselves, and very sterilenfor their subjects.nC. Winsor Wheeler is a poet,nfreelance writer, and hook reviewer fornThe Duke Review.nUp From the Ashesnby Gertrude M. WhitenGerard Manley Hopkins: A VerynPrivate Lifenby Robert Bernard MartinnNew York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons;n448 pp., $29.95nHe was unknown and disregardednduring the whole of his short lifenand for years thereafter. But fortunenrelented. Gerard Manley Hopkins,ndead for 30 years, was provided with anneditor who had known, admired, andnloved him and who had preserved thenbody of his work until he felt the timenwas ripe. Once known, his difficultnpoems found their own way. Goodncritics considered him the greatest of thengreat Victorian poets. Now his belatedngood fortune continues: he has foundnthe biographer for whom any poetnmight wish: informed, sympathetic, perÂÂnnnceptive, judicious. And all readers ofnHopkins must hereafter feel themselvesnin debt to Robert Bernard Martin, professornemeritus of English at bothnPrinceton University and the Universitynof Hawaii.nGerard Manley Hopkins’ life wasnshort, obscure, and dogged by failure innhis chosen vocation. His superiors in thenSociety of Jesus did their best to find anpost where his manifest talents of mindnand character might serve their ordernand bring Hopkins himself satisfactionnand peace of mind. They failed. HensuflFered throughout his life from depressionsnso deep as to threaten hisnmental balance and, indeed, seems tonhave been happy at the end to acceptndeath. The craft to which he appliednhimself with so many misgivings butnwith such devotion amid the manifoldnand trying exigencies of his life broughtnhim neither understanding nor .appreciationnnor reputation. Only a handful ofnclose friends even knew he wrote poetry.nHe habitually referred to himself, innletters and in verse, as “Time’s eunuch,”nand his sense of sterility seemednthe final cruel judgment on his life, hisnhopes, and his unvalued works.nBehold now how true is the ancientnmyth of the phoenix! A century agonHopkins died of typhoid contracted in anfilth-ridden Dublin. He was laid to restnamong his fellow Jesuits in the Glasnevinncemetery, and a Latin inscription,none among some two hundred carvednon a granite crucifix, is his only memorial.nYet from this earth, this grave, thisndust, the poetry he wrote so painfullynduring his short, unhappy life has risennto speak like a trumpet to the modernnear, or like the golden echo of his ownntitle. As the most powerful poet in annera of great poets, Hopkins left thenrecord of his love, his suffering, and hisnfaith in verse which, like the world ofn”God’s Grandeur,” is charged withnenergy and sustained by his passionatenaffirmation of the glory of creation.nRobert Bernard Martin’s biographyngives a fully detailed picture of thencircumstances and the social and intellectualnbackground of Hopkins’ life: ofnhis family, particulariy his mother andnfather, with whom the poet had all hisnlife a close, complex, and somewhatndifficult relationship; of his education atnschool and at Balliol College, Oxford;nof his conversion to Roman Catholicismnat the age of 22, in the teeth ofnMARCH 1992/37n
January 1975July 26, 2022By The Archive
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