"We hold these truths..."

From Gordon S. Wood's "The Five Greatest Words in the Declaration":

In the Declaration of Independence, the 250^th anniversary of which we are celebrating this year, the Founders put down five significant words that came to define America’s culture — “all men are created equal.” No phrase could have been more radical, more momentous. Even the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen in 1789, with its statement that “men are born and remain free and equal in rights,” does not have the same power and significance. ....

This radical idea, of course, had roots in Christianity that went back centuries, but by the 18^th century, for many of the enlightened, it had taken on a literal and secular significance that remains the foundation of America’s democratic faith. In other words, what separated individuals from one another, what explained the obvious inequalities of society, were the circumstances in which people were raised, the environments they experienced through their senses that shaped their lives. A child’s mind, according to a Quaker schoolmaster in Philadelphia in 1793, was “soft wax, which will take the least stamp you put on it, so let it be your care, who teach, to make the stamp good, that the wax be not hurt.” Education, which had been important only to New England Puritans, suddenly became an American obsession.

And not just the education of elites but of all the people. The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 put it best, decreeing that “religion, morality and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.” ....

Once those who considered themselves enlightened realized that they could change people’s minds and character through education, they began to feel morally responsible for the weak and downtrodden. In the minds of society’s leaders, concern and compassion replaced the smugness and indifference of the ancien régime. If the culture — what people thought and believed — was man-made and could be changed, then the status of the lowly and deprived could be reformed and improved. ....

Slavery existed in a multitude of cultures for thousands of years without substantial criticism — until the late 18^th century and the American Revolution. Although many modern historians have called the Revolution’s inability to free all the slaves its greatest failure, they have committed the great sin of anachronism by assuming that everyone in the past must have known that slavery was an evil. These historians, therefore, have not fully appreciated that the Revolution defied a world that for millennia had taken slavery for granted. It was the Revolution that, for the first time in history, made slavery a problem, and it led to the first instance of states’ abolishing the practice. Not only did eight Northern states abolish slavery in the aftermath of the Declaration of Independence, but slaveholders in the Southern states were thrown on the defensive and, for the first time, had to justify an institution that they hitherto had taken for granted. ....

The meaning of these five words in the Declaration of Independence was expanded in the succeeding decades to the point where every white man felt he was equal to every other such American. Once invoked, the idea of equality could not be stopped, and it tore through American culture and society with awesome power. .... (more)

Gordon S. Wood, "The Five Greatest Words in the Declaration," National Review, March, 2026.

Self-esteem

A passing reference in a blog I read almost every day sent me looking for "Psychobabble that shields the seriously selfish," a 1999 essay by Theodore Dalrymple:

When someone says that he lacks self-esteem he says it as if he were denied something that is his of right. Merely by virtue of drawing breath, each person has the right to think well of himself. Are not all men created equal, in some not-quite-specifiable metaphysical sense? And is not man the paragon of animals, the beauty of the world, like unto a god? Should we not all, then, think well of ourselves? ....

Does anyone not know someone who is too full of self-esteem, who is pompous, puffed up, self-important, vainglorious, self-regarding and altogether too pleased with himself? Whose achievements or qualities are minimal, yet who seems walled around by an awareness of his own assumed superiority? And is it not the case that such inflated self-esteem is one of the most unpleasant qualities anyone can have, drawing immediate censure from almost everyone? ....

Many people come to me saying that they need to find themselves, on the assumption that somewhere buried deep within them, like a vein of precious ore in the Witwatersrand, there is a wonderful, exceptional, talented person trying to get out, about whom they will be able to feel good. The doctor is thus a miner in the hard rock of the personality. I sometimes astonish my patients by telling them that it is far more important that they should be able to lose themselves than that they should be able to find themselves. For it is only in losing oneself that one does find oneself. (emphasis added) ....

Anyone who even asks the question of whether he has sufficient self-esteem is, ipso facto, a lost soul. Whatever answer is given, the person is in trouble, in a state of profound error and confusion. It is a sign of our increasing self-obsession, of the narrowing of our emotional, spiritual and intellectual horizons, that a concept such as self-esteem should have assumed such importance and become central to so many kinds of therapy. I recall the words of Lord Bacon (admittedly not a man entirely without ego himself), which are as true now as they were when he wrote them: “It is a poore centre of a Man’s life, Himselfe.”

Theodore Dalrymple, "Psychobabble that shields the seriously selfish," The New Statesman, August 16, 1999.

A ripping good yarn

From a review of Storyteller: The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson:

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850–94) belongs at the head of a select company of writers renowned in their day—Alexandre ­Dumas, Jules Verne, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle—who are no longer taken seriously, or for that matter read much, by most adults. However, the pleasures of reading adventure stories are not all guilty ones. The very best of such tales not only entertain but also teach—­reminding grown men and women of fundamental truths they took in when young. ....

Treasure Island portrays an adolescent’s initiation into the depths of manly wickedness—and his boldness in fighting against it. The sinister forces that generally flee the daylight penetrate the peaceable life of young Jim Hawkins. A succession of seafaring ruffians, each more rotten than the previous—Billy Bones, Black Dog, Blind Pew—arrive at his father’s inn, and bring with them terror and bloodshed, as they pursue the notorious pirate Captain Flint’s buried treasure. Pelf, loot, plunder: That is what pirates live and die for. But this fascination with riches infects the good men whom Jim knows, and with Flint’s treasure map in their possession a select group of them heads out to sea in quest of a fortune.

They are all innocents, with a lot to learn about the nature of evil. Squire Trelawney, the ringleader, unwittingly hires a crew of pirates who had sailed with Flint, among them Long John Silver, the peg-legged archvillain who has become the favorite buccaneer of popular legend. At first, they strike the Squire as virtuous men; but appearances can be fatefully deceiving, as Jim learns more quickly than his adult companions. Having climbed into a barrel on deck to get one of the few apples remaining there, Jim overhears Silver feverishly tell his fellow cutthroats of his plan to murder the good men—he imagines the most exquisite mutilations for the Squire—and take all the treasure for themselves. As Jim tells the story, “I would not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and listening, in the ­extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended upon me alone.”

One lesson after another in maintaining his composure will follow. The pirates and the honest men will go to war, and several will be killed. Perhaps the biggest excitement comes when Jim fights to the death with the malignant Israel Hands. In a tour de force of practical criticism, Damrosch captures perfectly, sentence by sentence, the intricate and unrelenting narrative movement that renders the violent action, right down to the killing blow. ....

And for all that, it is a ripping good yarn, like Stevenson’s other most remarkable works of fiction. Each of these is singular in plot, but all are similar in their fundamental teaching: that righteous men must resist wrongdoers with all the courage they have, especially when the vicious have superior strength.

In Kidnapped (1886), seventeen-­year-old David Balfour, another slow learner, narrowly escapes a murderous pitfall contrived by his malicious, miserly uncle Ebenezer—yet still trusts the old reprobate enough to be suckered aboard a ship manned by evildoers, whom Ebenezer has paid to transport him into indentured servitude in the Carolinas. David, too, will have to fight for his life, and is fortunate to have at his side an expert ­swordsman who will become his fast friend. .... (more)

Algis Valiunas, "Stevenson’s Treasure," First Things, Jan 21, 2026.

Josephus and Jesus

I've been reading history for a very long time. I love this sort of thing. On an ancient Jewish historian and what he may have written about Jesus:

.... Josephus is our most important historical source for the Roman East—Syria, Galilee, and Judea—offering priceless insights into politics, warfare, religion, and daily life we’d otherwise never know.

I’ve taught about Josephus’s life and works for more than 20 years—first in secular settings like Macquarie University and the University of Sydney, and now at Wheaton College. But Josephus and Jesus: New Evidence for the One Called Christ by T.C. Schmidt, associate professor of religious studies at Fairfield University, has forced me to rewrite my lectures—and it might just have changed my mind. It seems that a controversial passage about Jesus’s resurrection might be original after all.

Of everything Josephus wrote, a single paragraph has been analyzed and debated more than all the rest. Those 90 words are even given their own name in scholarship: the Testimonium Flavianum—the testimony of Flavius Josephus about Jesus.

It appears in Book 18 of Jewish Antiquities. Here’s the standard translation from the Loeb Classical Library, with brackets around the words I’ve described for decades as “dodgy.” (Not exactly a technical term, but I always thought it apt.)

About this time there lived Jesus, a wise man, [if indeed one ought to call him a man]. For he was one who wrought surprising feats and was a teacher of such people as accept the truth gladly. He won over many Jews and many of the Greeks. [He was the Messiah.] When Pilate, upon hearing him accused by men of the highest standing among us, had condemned him to be crucified, those who had in the first place come to love him did not give up their affection for him. [For he appeared to them alive again on the third day, the divine prophets having foretold these and countless other marvellous things about him.] And the tribe of the Christians, so called after him, has still to this day not disappeared.

Since a famous 1987 article by Géza Vermes (professor of Jewish studies at Oxford University), the scholarly consensus about this paragraph has been that Josephus himself wrote a brief, neutral—or perhaps negative—remark about Jesus, which was later “improved” by a Christian scribe copying out Josephus’s works in the fourth, fifth, or sixth century. ....

Schmidt does a terrific job in the early chapters of his book chasing down all the manuscripts that contain the Testimonium Flavianum. Josephus wrote in Greek, but his work—at least parts of it—was quickly translated into Latin, as well as Syriac, Armenian, and Arabic. Unlike most classical and New Testament scholars, Schmidt seems comfortable swimming in all these linguistic oceans.

The upshot of his analysis is that we may have to rethink a key line. ....

I’ve spent my career trying to ensure my teaching about the historical Jesus stays within the bounds of mainstream (secular) scholarship, and Schmidt’s book is a major, serious challenge to the consensus on the Testimonium Flavianum. It won’t completely convince everyone, but if I’m any indication, it could partly convince many. I might owe my former students an apology. (more, summarizing the argument made in the book)

This appears at the end of the review: "Editors’ note: A generous donor has made Josephus and Jesus freely available in PDF format."

John Dickson, "I Might Owe My Students an Apology About Josephus," TGC, Jan. 19, 2026.

Transported

I can remember being so engrossed in a book that I was unaware of my surroundings or of the passage of time. A book can transport you somewhere else entirely.

 

Blessed are the dead...

When my father died, I asked the pastor to use scriptures that remind us of the hope we have. They are scriptures used for the funeral of a believer in the Book of Common Prayer.

I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.

I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though this body be destroyed, yet shall I see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger.

We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?

One thing have I desired of the Lord, which I will require; even that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to visit his temple.

Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.

Jesus said, Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, From henceforth blessed are the dead who die in the Lord: even so saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labours.

Finally and ultimately

Re-posted.

Modern Heresies is a book I found in the Milton College Library. I was an undergraduate, and my work-study job was shelving books, ensuring that they were in the proper Dewey order. I tended to browse a lot, and that's how I came across this one. I soon ordered a copy for myself. It was for me an early introduction to the idea of heresy. (If reprinted, it should be re-titled Perennial Heresies.) This is from Chapter Three, "The Personal God":

.... A friend of mine has characterized most preaching which he hears as consisting of "if-only" sermons: "If only people would obey the Sermon on the Mount, the world would be ever so much better." The image of God that such sermons project is of a Divine floor-pacer, wringing his hands over the mess men are getting into and wishing desperately he could think of something to do about it. How often one hears in sermons phrases like this : "God is trying to do so and so"; "God hopes we will hear and obey him." Some of this language is inevitable as the language of analogy, but we ought to be quite sure we see how very misleading it can be. God isn't really "trying" to do anything; he is doing it. God doesn't "hope" for anything; he is quite aware that his will is done perfectly both in earth and in heaven. The danger of talking about a limited God who is trying things out and hoping things will work out well is that one can put no confidence or trust in such a God. For if a limited and finite God is really our image of the Divine, then he may very well fail. Perhaps our experience with democracy has misled us into thinking that God is not so much the eternal King of creation as just a candidate seeking that office (and the preachers are his precinct workers, out drumming up votes). But what if he isn't elected?

Orthodoxy's answer to this heresy has always been the assertion that God can do anything he wants, but what he wants is to create free beings able to respond to him wholeheartedly and trustingly. Omnipotence is not the ability to do anything; it is the ability to achieve one's purpose. .... God's omnipotence is proved by the freedom with which he allows man to run the world as he wants. If he were interfering all the time, shrilly insisting that men hew to the line and seizing them by the scruff of the neck if they did not, one would conclude that he was a very nervous and uncertain Deity, indeed. God's omnipotence lies in his capacity to make all things work together for good, finally and ultimately. Perhaps the most powerful evidence for this is the story of the Cross and the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

John M Krumm, Modern Heresies (1961), pp. 48-49.

A day of civic obligation

Once again, I find myself agreeing with this liberal former mayor of the city where I live. In "Let’s vote in person on Election Day," Dave Cieslewicz makes a case I've also argued:

I’ve never liked early voting for several reasons.

The first reason is that it serves to reinforce our current polarization. The unspoken assumption behind early voting is that you’ve already made up your mind and nothing that happens in the closing weeks of a campaign will matter. Turns out that Donald Trump really did gun down an innocent man in the middle of Fifth Avenue? Doesn’t matter. I’m for Trump. Besides, the guy probably had it coming. When you vote early, you’re saying that there’s nothing a candidate can do or say, no policy idea, nothing in their background that comes to light, that will change your mind. That candidate’s color is red or blue, and that’s all that matters. It used to be popular for voters to say that they voted for the candidate and not the party. I never hear that anymore. I want to hear it again. ....

I see voting as a civic sacrament. And, fitting its importance, Election Day should be what Catholics call a holy day of obligation. It should be a special day. It should require a little effort. It is an experience you should share with your neighbors. By making it easy, we’ve also cheapened it. ....

I realize that I’m shouting into the wind here. I don’t see early voting going away. Like red and blue teams and all manner of tribalism, it has become too well established now. And that’s a shame because we need more civic sacraments. (more)

I consistently and intentionally vote on Election Day.

Dave Cieslewicz, "Let’s vote in person on Election Day," Isthmus, Jan. 16, 2026.

Rear Window

Hitchcock is the director whose films I rewatch most often. I enjoy some of the early British movies, especially The Thirty-Nine Steps and The Lady Vanishes, but even more those made at the height of his American career: Foreign Correspondent, Saboteur, Shadow of a Doubt, Notorious, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, and North by Northwest. And that list isn't exhaustive. The most important not listed is Rear Window. From "Looking Back at Rear Window" reviewing a recent, apparently flawed, book about the film:

Released in the summer of 1954 to general acclaim and impressive box-office receipts, Rear Window endures as a genuine pop-art achievement, its big-budget Hollywood approach—glamorous stars, enviable costume design, blazing Technicolor, and studio-system craftsmanship—enlivened by a restless intelligence behind the camera. By mixing suspense, comedy, romance, and mystery, Hitchcock delivered a rousing if incongruous tour de force, its lighthearted tone occasionally contrasting wildly with its sordid subject. After all, if any film featuring (off-screen) murder and dismemberment can be considered lighthearted, Rear Window would be it. With a witty screenplay, an appealing star with longstanding box-office prowess (Jimmy Stewart), a promising young actress of striking, almost numinous beauty (Grace Kelly), and a talented supporting cast (including Raymond Burr as the villain and the irrepressible Thelma Ritter), Rear Window offers new delights with every viewing. ....

Though Rear Window was his third film with a restricted setting (after Lifeboat and Rope), Hitchcock seemed to relish the scale of the challenge this time around. Rear Window takes place entirely in a single room: where Jefferies watches the action across the courtyard (first with binoculars, then with a camera/telephoto lens combination), forcing the audience to share his subjective point of view. To realize his bravura vision, Hitchcock had one of the most elaborate sets since the days of Cecil B. DeMille constructed. At a cost of “$9,000 to design and $72,000 to build,” Paramount erected a life-size model of a Greenwich Village apartment complex. .... (more)

Carlos Acevedo, "Looking Back at Rear Window," City Journal, Jan. 9, 2026.

My alma mater

Main Hall

I graduated from Milton College, the college my father and grandfather attended. Milton was one of the oldest institutions of higher education in Wisconsin, founded before the Civil War and chartered by the state in 1867. Seventh Day Baptists created it and, although it never had a formal relationship with the denomination, that connection sustained it for much of its history, supplying both faculty and students. The college never prospered financially, relying on dedicated faculty willing to serve sacrificially. My father, for instance, was persuaded to return to the college by its president after World War II. He had been teaching at CCNY. His salary at Milton was never significant — I believe my brother and I each made more in our first years of employment than he did after decades there, although he had served as professor of mathematics, interim college president, and, for many years, registrar. The school had no endowment. I vividly recall the happiness in our house when the Main Hall bell would ring some evening to let everyone know that the budget had been raised and the college could continue for another year.

When I was growing up, life centered around the college. We lived across the street from campus, and my alarm clock was the 7:25 ringing of the Main Hall bell. Both the public high school and Milton College football was played on the college field. My brother and I were taken to every college basketball game. Our parents' closest friends were members of the faculty, many of whom were also members of our church. The college library was the village library. We attended Glee Club reunions and commencement ceremonies. We learned the fight song, "The Song of the Bell," and the alma mater. We attended music recitals, choral concerts, and plays, as did most on campus and many from the community. My parents would read us the plot from Lamb's Shakespeare before taking us to the Shakespearean play on campus — a play which continued an annual tradition begun in the 19^th century, not even broken during world wars when male roles were performed by women. In high school and college, I worked in the library and, during the summers, on the maintenance crew. Because both our parents worked at the college (Mom was both the women's phy ed teacher and the women's counselor), we participated in just about every event — athletic, dramatic, social, musical — at the school.

It was foreordained that my brother and I would attend Milton. Not only had grandfather and Dad gone to Milton, but because our parents were faculty members, we could attend on a "faculty scholarship," that is, we could attend tuition-free, and since we could live at home, there was essentially no expense at all. I don't recall ever even considering going anywhere else. I graduated in 1968.

Brick walk to the Music Studio

The college closed in 1982, burdened by debt, and really no longer the institution it had been. The curriculum had devolved, pursuing the faddish educational nonsense common to the '60s and '70s  — I remember accounts of long-serving faculty, including my father, being subjected to "sensitivity training" involving "trust walks" and other idiocy. By the time my brother attended, some classes were self-graded. The on-campus student body had dwindled, and some of the once strong departments had been eviscerated. And many of those who had served the college faithfully and sacrificially, including my parents, were gone.

Almost all the college buildings were sold and converted to other uses. Main Hall, the oldest building, was turned over to the alumni association and has been restored and maintained as a museum. Since the last class graduated over forty years ago, the youngest alumni are now in their sixties. Our numbers are dwindling. So, some years ago, the alumni gave over Main Hall to the "Milton College Preservation Society," which dedicates itself to "Keeping the Spirit Alive." I'm not certain what spirit that is. My own emotional connection probably has more to do with the years before I was a student — the '50s and early '60s before everything started to change, or even, based on stories told and read, what I imagine the place was like when my grandfather attended before the turn of the last century, or my father in the '30s, or my uncle in the '20s.

Ayn Rand on C.S. Lewis

Today I reviewed the posts on this site that I had tagged "Ayn Rand." Among them, I found "Ayn Rand Really, Really Hated C.S. Lewis," a 2013 article at First Things by Matthew Schmitz (it now seems to have moved behind a paywall):

Ayn Rand was no fan of C.S. Lewis. She called the famous apologist an "abysmal bastard," a "monstrosity," a "cheap, awful, miserable, touchy, social-metaphysical mediocrity," a "pickpocket of concepts," and a "God-damn, beaten mystic." (I suspect Lewis would have particularly relished the last of these.)

These insults and more can be found in her marginal notes on a copy of Lewis' Abolition of Man, as printed in Ayn Rand's Marginalia: Her critical comments on the writings of over 20 authors, edited by Robert Mayhew. Excerpts appear below, with Lewis' writing (complete with Rand's highlighting and underlining) on the left and Rand's notes on the right.

Two examples:

Either we are rational spirit obliged for ever to obey the absolute values of the Tao, or else we are mere nature to be kneaded and cut into new shapes for the pleasures of masters who must, by hypothesis, have no motive but their own ‘natural’ impulses. Only the Tao provides a common human law of action which can over-arch rulers and ruled alike. A dogmatic belief in objective value is necessary to the very idea of a rule which is not tyranny or an obedience which is not slavery.

The lousy bastard who is a pickpocket of concepts, not a thief, which is too big a word for him. Either we are mystics of spirit or mystics of muscle – reason? who ever heard of it?– such as in the Middle Ages?

You cannot go on ‘explaining away’ for ever: you will find that you have explained explanation itself away. You cannot go on ‘seeing through’ things for ever. The whole point of seeing through something is to see some­thing through it. It is good that the window should be transparent, because the street or garden beyond it is opaque. How if you saw through the garden too? It is no use trying to ‘see through’ first principles. If you see through everything, then everything is transparent. But a wholly transparent world is an invisible world. To ‘see through’ all things is the same as not to see.

The abysmal caricature who postures as a “gentle­man and a scholar” treats sub­jects like these by means of a corner lout’s equivocation on “seeing through.”! By “seeing through,” he means “rational understanding”! Oh,BS! – and total BS!

Ayn Rand, avatar of Reason!

C.S. Lewis and T.S. Eliot

At Prufrock this morning, there was a link to an article about the eventual friendship between T.S. Eliot and C.S. Lewis. Lewis detested Eliot's poetry and literary criticism but they did, finally, become good friends. From "C.S. Lewis and T.S. Eliot: A Tale of Two Critics."

The opening greeting, “My Dear Eliot,” from the pen of C.S. Lewis may not seem particularly notable, but that simple yet warm greeting from Lewis to Eliot in several letters from 1959 to 1960 was an achievement that took decades. Since the beginning of their respective careers there had been an entrenched coolness. But as they gathered in 1959, summoned by Geoffrey Fisher, Archbishop of Canterbury, to serve on the Committee to Revise the Psalter, impressions changed, and old prejudices evaporated as both men found that they held much in common. It appears that while they worked on the committee to preserve much of the Coverdale translation, which they both loved deeply, the personal gulf between the men was bridged. Soon the men were meeting together with their wives over lunch. Lewis, ever the accumulator of friends that differed from him greatly, made his peace with Eliot, remarking to Walter Hooper, “You know that I never cared for Eliot’s poetry and criticism, but when we met I loved him at once.” There is no noted change in Lewis’s attitude toward Eliot’s work, but he did find the man behind the words and counted him in the end as a friend. ....

Suspicions faded and Lewis met the man not the critic. Lunches with wives took place, letters were sent with warm and kind greetings—gone were the days of aiming at the officers in an attack. Soon an opportunity would appear for Eliot to aid his friend. While serving as editor at Faber and Faber, Eliot received a manuscript under a pseudonym. Knowing his friend and the death of Lewis’s wife, Joy, Eliot easily guessed the author. He was deeply moved by the manuscript that would become A Grief Observed (1961). Eliot not only published it but offered suggestions for a different pseudonym to honor the author’s wish to remain anonymous. ....

Lewis, ever the charitable dissenter, seemed to collect friends for the art of debate and disagreement, but he took a long time to come around to Eliot. .... (more)

Jackson Greer, "C.S. Lewis and T.S. Eliot: A Tale of Two Critics," Front Porch Republic, Jan 7, 2026.

Civilized

The mother of a very young son wants to raise him as a "civilized" human being:

Unfortunately, “civilized” has become a dirty word. It’s politically incorrect. To identify something or someone as civilized implies that some people and things are uncivilized, and therefore bad. But if the past few years have taught us anything, it’s that there are bad people and bad cultures. They’ve all either refused to abide by the norms of merit and moral responsibility that uphold our civilization or proven incompatible with them. If I want to raise my son well, I must provide him with moral tools so that he doesn’t become uncivilized, too.

Civilization on the societal level begins in the home. It’s where my son will learn to say “please” and “thank you” and where he’ll first learn the word “no.” At home, we’ll show him unconditional love and teach him the difference between right and wrong. It’s the first place where he’ll learn to respect authority and the rule of law. If my son isn’t raised to recognize authority at home, he won’t recognize it in the public square and will likely subvert it. Civilization decays when the rule of law is disregarded. ....

Raising and sustaining a civilized child means teaching gratitude. Gratitude for the Herculean achievements of those who bequeathed the Western tradition they’ve been blessed to inherit. Gratitude for the profound books they read, debate and live by. Through the words of great men and women, our children inherit ideas. Through ideas, they’ll build upon our civilization.

I also hope to raise my son with a good sense of humor. .... (more)

Sarah Baird, "I’ll Teach My Son to Be Civilized," The Wall Street Journal, Jan. 6, 2026.

Magi

"The star, which they saw in the east, went before them..."

The term Epiphany is taken from the Greek word for “manifestation” and is a date to celebrate the incarnation of Christ. In some denominations, the day is also known as Three Kings’ Day since it commemorates the “twelfth day of Christmas,” or twelve days after Jesus’ birth, when according to tradition the magi visited Mary, Joseph, and their child. (In the Bible, neither the number of “wise men” nor the date they arrived is specified.) ....

9 Things You Should Know About the Christian Calendar

New, free, eBooks

Standard eBooks celebrates "Public Domain Day 2026" by making twenty books published in 1930 available free as eBooks. Among them, first, some of the Golden Age mysteries:

• 
  The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett
• The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie
• Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers

And several of the first Nancy Drews:

• The Secret of the Old Clock by Carolyn Keene
• The Hidden Staircase by Carolyn Keene
• The Bungalow Mystery by Carolyn Keene
• The Mystery at Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene

Also:

• Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot
• Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh
• As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

And others.

Standard eBooks, "Public Domain Day 2026 in Literature," Jan. 1, 2026.

A prayer for the New Year

It was Samuel Johnson's practice to mark each New Year by composing a personal prayer. This is the one for 1772:

ALMIGHTY GOD, who hast permitted me to see the beginning of another year, enable me so to receive Thy mercy, as that it may raise in me stronger desires of pleasing Thee by purity of mind and holiness of Life. Strengthen me, O Lord, in good purposes, and reasonable meditations. Look with pity upon all my disorders of mind, and infirmities of body. Grant that the residue of my life may enjoy such degrees of health as may permit me to be useful, and that I may live to Thy Glory; and O merciful Lord when it shall please Thee to call me from the present state, enable me to die in confidence of Thy mercy, and receive me to everlasting happiness, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Political tribalism

Patrick Kurp, quoting Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), just as sadly relevant today as in 1717:

Men’s very natures are soured, and their passions inflamed, when they meet in party clubs, and spend their time in nothing else but railing at the opposite side; thus every man alive among us is encompassed with a million of enemies of his own country, among which his oldest acquaintance and friends, and kindred themselves, are often of the number; neither can people of different parties mix together without constraint, suspicion, or jealousy, watching every word they speak, for fear of giving offence, or else falling into rudeness and reproaches, and so leaving themselves open to the malice and corruption of informers, who were never more numerous or expert in their trade.

Patrick Kurp, "To Have Something to Say," Anecdotal Evidence, Dec. 31, 2025.

A New Year hymn

Found at Conjubilant With Song:

O God, whom neither time nor space
Can limit, hold, or bind.
Look down from heav'n, Thy dwelling place
With love for humankind.

Another year its course has run,
Thy loving care renew;
Forgive the ill that we have done,
The good we failed to do.

In doubt or danger, all our days,
Be near to guard us still;
Let all our thoughts and all our ways
Be guided by Thy will.

O help us here on earth to live
From selfish strife set free;
To us at last in mercy give
Eternal life with Thee.

Horace Smith, 19th cent.; alt.
Tune Scottish Psalter, 1635

Conjubilant With Song: Another Year Its Course Has Run

Good health to you!

Wassail, wassail, to our town,
The cup is white, the ale is brown;
The cup is made of the ashen tree,
And so is your ale of the good barley.
Little maid, little maid, turn the pin,
Open the door and let us come in.
God be here, God be there,
I wish you all a happy New Year.

Note The Wassail Cup was a wooden cup (one rhyme says "made of the rosemary tree") of spiced ale, apples and sugar, which they drank at the New Year. The word Wassail comes from the Anglo-Saxon Waes hal! be whole! — that is to say, good health to you! Children carried round a bunch of evergreens hung with apples, oranges and ribbons, called a Wessel-bob. "Turn the pin" means "unfasten the latch".

Cicely Mary Barker, The Children's Book of Rhymes

The indispensable virtue

Re-posted from a few years ago. From "Quiet Hope: A New Year’s Resolution.":

.... What Leon Kass calls the “higher cynicism” has left many adrift, without recourse to the traditions of wisdom that might provide direction and guidance for life. ....

Despair is the unforgivable sin, for the despairing conclude that God will not or cannot act, that the universe is fundamentally unfriendly and inhospitable to the true, good, and beautiful, and that humanity has lost the imago Dei. To judge in this way is to deny the goodness of the world and its Creator and sustainer, and that is the sin of all sins. ....

...[T]he most indispensable virtue is hope, which is not optimism or a vague sentiment, but a disposition that all will turn out well in the end. ...I would add that this disposition is convinced that God does not fail to keep his promises. Kass insists, wisely, that hope is not hope for change, but rather an affirmation of permanence, of the permanent possibility of a meaningful life in a hospitable and meaningful universe. ....

My resolution for 2020 is to learn a quiet hope. It would do me well. ....

A good resolution for 2026, too, and every other year.

Quiet Hope: A New Year’s Resolution - Public Discourse