Lytle writes that the book was intendednto “tell his daughters who they are andnwhere they come from.” A veritablengold mine of anecdotes and tall tales,nLytle’s book is a marvelous introductionnto the writer whom Robert PennnWarren has called the “best story tellernin America.” In his The SouthernnVision of Andrew Lytle Lucas leads usnto a writer who is finally receiving thenwide appreciation he has always deserved.nDavid Hallman is professor of Englishnat James Madison University.nHumanism as anFine Artnby Carl C. CurtisnPaul Elmer More: Literary Criticismnas the History of Ideas bynStephen L. Tanner, Albany: StatenUniversity of New York Press;n$19.50.nIt is a common fact of our century —nappreciated most by George Orwell—nthat men who lust after power willndistort words to gain their own ends. Inn1933, a significant distortion took place.nA group of men, John Dewey amongnthem, drafted and published a nownfamous document, the HumanistnManifesto I, in which they declaredntheir allegiance to a world free of “anynsupernatural or cosmic guarantees ofnhuman values.” Steadily, this creed hasncome to define the humanist (or secularnhumanist) in our day, to the pointnthat “humanism” has become a bywordnto conservatives, especially conservativenChristians.nIt was not always so. In the decadesnimmediately preceding the 1933 manifesto,nthe term “humanist” had beennassociated with a few isolated scholars,nfor the most part acting independentlynof one another, who had developednrather traditional ideas about education,nletters, and man’s place in thenuniverse. Their ideas, however diversenthe application, were based on thenpremise that “supernatural or cosmicnguarantees” had a great deal to do withn”human values.” One of the mainnfigures to emerge from this circle ofnscholars was Paul Elmer More, whosenthought is the subject of a new book bynStephen L. Tanner.nIn one sense. More had somethingnin common with the men who draftednthe Humanist Manifesto I. Like allnmen who claim the title of humanist,nhe asserted the dignity of human life,nthe responsibility of the individual, andnthe importance of free will. Yet Morenhas never ceased to be treated withncontempt by the post-Manifesto humanists,nbecause he saw clearly thatnhumanism, in order to survive as andistinct philosophy, had to rest onnsomething more than itself. “Will not _nthe humanist,” he said, “unless henadds to his creed the faith and the hopenof religion, find himself at the last,ndespite his protests, dragged back intonthe camp of the naturalist?” This attitudenapplied even to More’s allies,nmen such as Irving Babbitt. For More,nit was necessary to harness humanismnto a body of ideas and beliefs totallynalien to the modern ethos. Specifically,nthese ideas and beliefs were Platonismnand Christianity. Hence, the split withnmodern humanists.nTo avoid falling into the error hencriticized. More set himself the task ofninvestigating, in Tanner’s words, “thenfundamental questions of what is thennature of man and how should henbelieve and act.” These are old questionsnbased on a view of man whichnfewer and fewer of the intellectuals ofnthe day were able to accept. Askingnthem was a result of More’s fascinationnwith two forces at work in the historynof modern ideas, humanism and naturalism.nHumanism, according to More, primarilynmeant accepting a dualisticnview of man. Man is simultaneously annatural and supernatural being. Tonignore either aspect of the soul leads toncultural and political dangers that havenbecome familiar to us all: the loss ofnthe special position of man in Creationnand the lowering of man to a cog in anstatist machine. Naturalism, in othernwords. More saw in the tendency towardnnaturalism (what we now mistakenlyncall humanism) the chief heresynin the West from the Renaissance tonour day, manifesting itself in a varietynof forms and creeds — rationalism, scientism,nromanticism, humanitarianismn— all carrying the basic messagenthat man was, one way or another, inncontrol of his own destiny and notnresponsible to either any transcendentnnnBeing or code.nThe decline of true humanism andnthe rise of naturalism in the thinking ofnWestern men became More’s greatntheme. He made it his objective tonanalyze the conflict of these two creedsnin the literature of the 17th, 18th, andn19th centuries and, as Tanner puts it,n”to cultivate within himself the historicnsense and thus trace the history of thenhuman spirit.”nIt is no surprise, then, that Morenchose to dedicate himself to the callingn(indeed, he considered it a very highncalling) of literary criticism. But it wasnliterary criticism of a kind unknown tonthose of us who have been schooled innthe New Criticism or in Deconstructionism.nMore’s writing was moral,nphilosophical, and historical in its emphasis.nFocusing on individual writersnand periods. More attempted to isolatenthe central ideas behind each artist andnplace them within the context of annintellectual and historical movement.nIn his Shelburne Essays, he chose tonmeasure the worth of his subjects primarilynin terms of where they fell innthe humanist-naturalist debate. Thenmethod has its limits, as Tanner isnquick to point out. More tends tonignore the formal and stylistic side ofnsome of the greatest writers. But thenbenefits far outweigh the disadvantages.nThe disciple of the New Criticismnwho reads a poem as an isolated eventnmay come away with a very goodnunderstanding of the work, but notnmuch else. The humanist is muchnmore likely to leave his reading with ansense of moral and spiritual enrichment.nHe may also be better preparednto do battle with a few Philistines.nStephen Tanner has done an excellentnjob of discussing More’s achievement.nLike More’s criticism. Tanner’snstudy has its limits, as, indeed, thenauthor is ready to confess. But it standsnas a superb introduction to a mannwhom most conservatives hear of nownand again (mostly in the writings ofnRussell Kirk) but never bother to read.nWe could spend a profitable week innslowly digesting this book. But the truendividend will be realized only if wenthen turn to the works of More himselfnCarl C. Curtis is a free-lance writernliving in Tyler, Texas.nAPRIL 19881 39n