I gave out what appears to have been arntoney-sounding address on the high roadrnto Bern, and felt the atmosphere mellowrntoward respectful deference in spite ofrnniv embarrassingly rusty French. My femalerncabby spoke well, beyond her vocation,rnand seemed the soul of Alpinerncomposure now more or less flummoxedrnby an overturned truckload of demijohnsrnand shards in the middle of a one-way,rnhighly tilted alleyway called a thoroughfare.rnIt all came back as, late but stately, wernpulled around onto the level entryway atrnlast—emerald grounds, the panoramarnabout to reveal itself from behind thernparting storm, fruited trees in haze, arnjust-drained pool far off, the Chateau dernVennes, its mullioned windows, its escutcheonedrndoors, its neat ranks of roofrnslates slick still with barely abated downpourrn—and my chauffeuse (not one tornfeel outclassed, apparently) commented,rn”Ca fait tres British,” though hardly arnfeature bespoke anything other than thernFrench Swiss Alps but for one small signrnthat read, “The Erasmus Institute,” notrnBritish, but American, where I had beenrninvited to give a lecture. It was my firstrnvisit.rnIt came back, our lost good life, as Irnstood at ceremonious table, my hostrnenunciating Grace, all my companyrncrossing themselves and sitting down tornan expert mountain meal, the glass ofrngood wine, the American conversationrnpunctuated by French, Italian, German,rnthe ice cream cake dessert, the ring of radiantrnfaces of offspring of large old-fashionedrnfamilies, their evident delight inrnseemly dress, refreshingly couth speech,rnease of good manners, their talk of treksrnand glaciers and Lake Geneva rowingrnclubs, concerts, art openings, the idealrnlength of a contemporary work of literaturernin light of the speed of modern life,rnthe trip to Florence past, a coming trip tornRome, varied progress in getting beyondrnhigh school French, ‘aried reactions tornarious ethical themes brought up inrnclass, the snag in visa procurement.rnIt came back as I watched, conversedrnwith, got to know my hosts, an exceptionallyrnhappy couple in middle years,rnmarvelously adept at getting theirrncharges to talk seriously of serious thingsrnin their virtual freshman year abroad, Irnmyself almost regretting not havingrnknown them before, though I felt I hadrnsomehow always known them—bothrnhusband and wife out of Columbia, bothrnof educator families, now with adolescentsrnof their own to try and raise to resistrnthe obtundities of popular culture andrnMTV, making their stand and offeringrnrefuge to a baker’s dozen or so of almostadultsrnso unusual in being the offspringrnof whole families. One hopes they willrnsurvive this era to become the progenitorsrnof whole families of their own. Theyrnare here because they want (or have parentsrnwho may be commended for wantingrnthem to want) an introduction to thernhumanities as conceived not by SaintrnLenin but Saint Augustine.rnAt one point my host mentioned thernthree theological virtues and averred thatrnhe felt a lifelong struggle over what herncalled the necessity of hope in a world sornbereft of it, that one must ha’e it beforernone can hope to give it. Perhaps it is notrntoo much to say that what Dr. Michaelrnand Mrs. Lynn Aesehliman principallyrndo, after all, is create conditions for thernincubation of hope. Their hospice, then,rnis actually an inn, an inn enclosing arnschool, a school enclosing an inn, offeringrnAmericans the haven of its enrichingrnyear between ideologically tainted highrnschools and ideologically tainted universities.rnThis really ought not to be necessary,rnof course, except that few, if any, of ourrnschools are what they pretend to be, letrnalone what they were a mere threerndecades ago. One young woman, the eldest,rnas it happened, had had to bernhomeschooled by parents in protestrnagainst the unconstitutional business ofrnso-called referrals, a euphemism for thernobtrusion of psychological counseling intornthe rights of families to communicaterntheir own values, those they actually livernby, should they be other than collectivist,rnuniformitarian, other-directed,rnsecular. N’loreover, our present universityrngraduates know conspicuously less aboutrnalmost everything pertaining to humanrnsurvival itself, let alone general culture,rnlet alone civilities, than high school graduatesrndid in my salad days. Yet becausernof their intense virtual indoctrination inrnwhat passes for The New Learning—a larn”Condoms Forever! Vivisection Never!”rn—which has produced so far only fanaticalrnhypocrisies and hypocritical fanaticisms,rneveryone appears to believernthat no one ever knew so much since thernworld began.rnHere Dr. Aesehliman’s Erasmus Instituternperforms a public service, quiternapart from an imparting by exemplumrnand exemplar of manners, morals, conversationalrnaplomb, genuine apprecia-rnThe E. F. SchumacherrnSocietyrnDecentralistrnConferencernJune 28-30,1996rnWilliams CollegernWilliamstown, MassachusettsrnWe believe that it isrntime for many interestedrnindividuals and groups withrnwidely varying perspectives torncome together and discuss thernimplications and possibilitiesrnof decentralization —and atrnthe same time talk through therndetails of creating morernhuman-scale institutions.rnSince 1980 the E. R SchumacherrnSociety has workedrninternationally to promote thernideas of the rich decentralistrntradition—^Human-Scale,rnRespect for the Land, CommunityrnRenewal, and MutualrnAid—^and worked locally tornimplement these ideas inrnpractical programs for localrneconomic self-reUance.rnPresentations andrnworking groups at thernConference will focus onrnlocal currencies, enterprisernloan funds, consumer andrnworker cooperatives, smallrntown revitalization, communityrnland trusts, communityrninformation technology, andrncitizen initiated environmentalrnprojects.rnConference fees, room andrnboard, $200. To register contact:rnE. F. Schumacher Societyrn140 Jug End RoadrnGreat Barrington, MA 01230rn(413)528-1737rne-mail: efssociety@aol.comrnJUNE 1996/53rnrnrn