The Unpopular Review, Number 19: July-December 1918

In Short

This volume is a bound collection of the nineteenth issue of a quarterly intellectual journal, published between July and December 1918. It functions as a platform for conservative, humanist, and often contrarian thinkers to weigh in on the defining issues of their day: the war in Europe, the state of American education, naturalization laws, and the erosion of traditional literary standards. It has lasted not as a unified narrative, but as a fascinating primary source that captures the specific, often prickly, sensibilities of an educated American class struggling to preserve its cultural order amidst global upheaval.

The Story

The "story" of this volume is the intellectual journey of a collective of writers attempting to assert order over a chaotic world. The opening section sets the stage by articulating the journal's grand, if quixotic, mission: the pursuit of free trade, the modernization of religion, and the "bracing up" of art and literature. This is not a passive publication; it is an active participant in the debates of the era. The contributors argue that the war, while brutal, must not allow the United States to abandon its core principles, nor should it allow the nation to succumb to what they view as misguided, "modern" fads in thought or governance.

As the text progresses, the focus shifts to a pointed critique of the domestic situation. The writers turn their attention to naturalization, arguing that the existing laws are a "sorry farce" that fail to ensure genuine assimilation. They view the oath of allegiance as an empty formality in a time of war, suggesting that a lack of rigor in admitting new citizens threatens the stability of the American state. This theme of necessary rigor extends into the realm of education and literature. The authors lament the decline of classical training, arguing that humanism—grounded in Greek and Latin—is the only true foundation for democratic citizenship. They express deep disdain for those who would dismiss the great poets and thinkers of the past as irrelevant, characterizing such critics as "Eocene minds" incapable of appreciating the discipline required for true artistic achievement.

The narrative arc reaches its most philosophical peak when the writers examine the nature of tolerance and conviction. They pose a difficult question: if modern thinkers are too modest to claim absolute truth, can they truly practice tolerance? They suggest that true conviction is a "missionary state of mind," and they find the modern tendency toward moral relativism intellectually weak. The volume concludes by weaving these high-minded concerns back into the fabric of daily life, offering reflections on the companionship of a dog or the simple pleasure of watching a blue jay in winter. These final passages ground the lofty, often combative, intellectual arguments in a sense of humble, lived experience, reminding the reader that even the most "unpopular" and opinionated critic must eventually return to the quiet, unvarnished realities of the natural world.

How It Unfolds

The Manifesto of Causes The editors outline a sweeping platform that includes disarming Germany, securing national self-determination, and reforming religion and art. They frame their journal as a necessary, if costly, enterprise, inviting readers to support their "humble efforts" toward these high-minded goals.

The Critique of Citizenship The argument shifts to a sharp condemnation of the American naturalization process, which the authors characterize as dangerously lax. They contend that mere oaths of allegiance are insufficient for true assimilation and offer no guarantee of loyalty during wartime.

The Defense of Tradition The contributors mount a spirited defense of classical education, positioning themselves against modern critics of rhyme and formal verse. They argue that rigorous study of the classics is essential for developing the abstract thinking required to sustain a healthy democracy.

The Philosophical Inquiry The writers grapple with the paradox of tolerance in an age that has lost its faith in absolute truth. They analyze the tension between firm belief and the modern tendency to view all moral positions as equally valid or invalid.

The Return to the Personal The final beats move away from the geopolitical and pedagogical toward the observational. Reflections on the behavior of a pet dog and the aesthetic charm of a blue jay serve as a coda, grounding the book's intense intellectualism in individual character and natural beauty.

The People

The book is populated by a variety of distinct voices, ranging from the haughty to the whimsical. There is the "unpopular" editor, a man deeply committed to the classical tradition who views himself as a guardian of truth against a rising tide of intellectual "bullying." He is a person who deeply values precision—in speech, in character, and in the interpretation of history. Alongside him are the figures he discusses, such as John Fiske, a man of immense, almost daunting erudition who struggled with the boundaries of orthodoxy before becoming a celebrated lecturer. Then there is the "Dog of the House," an unnamed companion whose simple, non-intellectual existence provides a foil for the editor's complex musings on loyalty and sympathy. Finally, there is the unnamed "class" of students, who function as the editor's foils; their confusion, laughter, and apparent resentment during his lectures serve as the catalyst for his defense of the classical humanities. Each of these figures, whether historical or immediate, serves the book's larger purpose of illustrating the friction between inherited wisdom and the changing, often irritating, reality of the twentieth century.

In Its Own Voice

"The one tangible thing is the oath, and the unreliability of the oath as a guarantee of undivided allegiance has been demonstrated over and over again in past decades, and most emphatically by the traitorous behavior of some of our naturalized citizens since 1914."

This sentence captures the authors' profound skepticism regarding the efficacy of simple legal rituals in securing national unity during the war.

"The genuine intolerance of the middle ages rested on a different basis. We say: Think what you please, so long as you act in conformity with what public opinion pleases."

This passage serves as the anchor for the book's central inquiry into the meaning of tolerance and the decline of deep, conviction-based thought in the modern era.

What It's Really About

At its core, this volume is an argument for the necessity of intellectual hierarchy. It is about the belief that not all ideas are created equal and that a society—specifically a democratic one—is only as strong as its commitment to rigor, historical literacy, and the preservation of high culture. It explores the anxiety that comes with the "disenchantment" of the modern world, where the loss of absolute, universal truths leaves the individual adrift. The questions underneath the prose are: How does one maintain a sense of objective value in a world that increasingly prizes individual convenience and ephemeral novelty? How can a citizen remain both tolerant of others and firm in their own moral and aesthetic convictions?

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the sharp, opinionated essays of early twentieth-century intellectuals will find this volume deeply engaging. It offers a unique sensory experience: the feel of an era defined by rapid industrialization, the trauma of the First World War, and the palpable tension between the Victorian past and the modern future. It is not an easy read; the prose is dense, occasionally pedantic, and frequently reflects the exclusionary attitudes of the period. The authors are unapologetically elitist and often combative, which can be jarring to the modern ear. However, for those interested in the history of ideas, it provides an invaluable look at the "prophetic" anxieties of a group of thinkers who felt the world was sliding toward a shallow, chaotic modernity. What stays with the reader is the editors' unwavering, if desperate, insistence that beauty, logic, and classical knowledge must be fought for. It is a portrait of a specific kind of intellectual courage, one that is as frustrating as it is fascinating, serving as a reminder that the battle for the "soul" of a culture is never truly settled.