Note for on-line readers: The following
is the Foreword, Introduction, and first chapter of Jim Tresner's Albert
Pike, The Man Beyond The Monument. Chapter Six, in which Pike discusses
Masonry is also online. The book is hardbound, 254 pages, and fully
illustrated with rare photos. The publisher's price is $19.95 but the
book is available to Scottish Rite members for $12.00.
Send check or money order to:
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Foreword
Heroes first make themselves. Then they are made over--again
and again--by friend and foe alike. No person of genius, no great leader,
no pioneer in any field enters history as he
or she actually was. In their times, epic individuals
were seen, warts and all. But as the years pass, the vibrant flesh-and-blood
individual recedes. Colorful reality fades into yellowed pages of dusty
history.
The purpose of this book is to reverse this process
for one of America's most interesting and accomplished figures, Albert
Pike. He died in 1891. Since then, Pike has become more revered than
read, more exalted or reviled than understood.
To know Albert Pike is to respect him. He was a musician
and teacher of note, a western frontiersman and pioneer, a journalist
and a general, a lawyer, philosopher, and poet. To Freemasons, he is
best known for taking the undramatic degrees of the Southern Jurisdiction
Scottish Rite in mid-19th-century America and transforming them into
the basis of an institution whose main teachings, toleration and personal
responsibility, are as vital today as in Pike's time.
The respect with which Pike is held by Scottish Rite
Masons of the Southern Jurisdiction, USA, has had two results--one good,
one unfortunate. On the positive side, Scottish Rite esteem for Pike
has fueled the careful preservation and explication of his works. In
recent years, for instance, Dr. Rex R. Hutchens expanded understanding
of Pike through three excellent books: A Bridge to Light, The Bible
in Albert Pike's "Morals and Dogma," and A Glossary of "Morals
and Dogma." On the negative side, Pike is more esteemed than
understood. A bronze statue has tended to replace the epic character
and real contribution of the man himself.
am very pleased to write the foreword for this latest
book, Albert Pike: The Man Beyond The Monument, in a growing
revival of Pike studies. The book's author, James T. Tresner, has captured
the real Albert Pike in all his diversity of thought and activity. You
will find Albert Pike the man, fleshed and faulted, yes, but, at the
same time, a man whose thoughts can lift one beyond the ordinary and
reveal the rich potential of the human spirit.
Finally, a warning. This book is about Pike. It is not
about Freemasonry or the Scottish Rite of Freemasonry. What Pike did
or said does not define the Masonic Fraternity. Pike is Pike, only.
While it is true he shaped and directed the Scottish Rite of Freemasonry,
Southern Jurisdiction, USA, for 32 years (1859-1891) as its head, he
did not then nor does he now define the Scottish Rite, especially outside
the Southern Jurisdiction, USA. In a similar manner, a president of
the United States may be a key figure in a specific era of history,
but he does not define the nation even in that limited time period,
much less in all of American history. The people are America. Whoever
the Chief Executive may be, the people, their history and ideals, not
the resident in the White House define and compose the nation.
Pike understood this and applied it to the Scottish
Rite. Starting in 1871 with the first edition of Morals and Dogma,
his greatest and longest work, Pike prefaced every edition saying:
"The teachings of these Readings are not sacramental,
so far as they go behind the realm of Morality into those of other domains
of Thought and Truth. The Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite uses the
word "Dogma" in its true sense, of doctrine, or teaching;
and it is not dogmatic in the odious sense of that term. Everyone is
entirely free to reject and dissent from whatsoever herein may seem
to him to be untrue or unsound. It is only required of him that he shall
weigh what is taught, and give it fair hearing and unprejudiced judgment."
Remember that this book describes Pike, the unique individual
presented in his own words, and not the Masonic Fraternity. I hope you
enjoy, as much as I have, reading these pages and meeting, through them,
a man whose life and thought will forever benefit all humankind.
Warren D. Lichty
Founding President Emeritus
Scottish Rite Research Society
Introduction:
Some Music about Words
"Ve can't all be der first violiners," futurist E. E. "Doc"
Smith once observed. "Some of us has got to push der vind thru
der tuba."
In many ways, pushing wind through the tuba is the purpose of this
book. Pike was a first violiner (played the violin quite well, as a
matter of fact). His prose soars and sings, it catches an idea and plays
with it, tossing it high into the air, turning it inside out and backwards
and upside down, making you look at it from new viewpoints, just as
Bach does in his Art of the Fugue. It's a virtuoso performance.
Nevertheless, there's a use for the tuba as well. It provides context
for the flights of the violin, it helps to draw attention to some passages,
and even sometimes serves as a counterpoint to highlight a theme.
If you don't have the talents to be a first violiner, there's something
to be said for being given a chance to push some "vind."
That "something" is "thanks!"
I greatly appreciate the chance to share Pike with others. One of the
highlights of my footlights experience was playing the part of Pike
in George Williams's one-man play, "An Evening with General Albert
Pike." Pike has been the love of a lifetime for me, and what man
doesn't enjoy the chance to pull the pictures of his loved ones from
his billfold and show them around!
This book is an unbiased assessment of some of his work-- just as unbiased
as a man is in showing off pictures of his family. Also, I'll try to
be a good tubaist, to provide a little counterpoint and to highlight
and to give context to Pike's themes.
But be prepared to be surprised--there's a lot to Pike that doesn't
appear on a casual reading. You'll be kicked back listening him play,
with lush vibrato, a mid-Victorian song such as "Father, Dear Father,
Come Home with Me Now," and suddenly discover he's actually playing
one of the more angular passages by Bartok. His barbed sense of humor
is a case in point, his dry and devious sense of humor even more so.
The use of musical terminology to open a book on Pike is not quite
as idiosyncratic as may first appear. Pike loved music. As we'll see,
he was a good enough violinist that the most famous conductor in America
at the time enjoyed spending evenings playing duets with him. He sang
in a beautiful voice. He wrote the lyrics for many songs, most of them
comic, which are included in his collections of poetry. He wrote indications
for music throughout the degrees of the Scottish Rite, Southern Jurisdiction,
USA. These degrees are full of such notes as, "music plays during
the circumambulations," "a wild strain of music is heard,"
"sad and mournful music accompanies the following," and so
forth. He oversaw the printing of four very large volumes of music to
be used to accompany the degrees. Pike frequently drew from music in
his writing. Only his other great love, nature, served him as a source
of imagery more often.
While on the topic of Pike's imagery and symbolism, however, there's
a point I should make at once. Some of what we'll look at in this book
comes from Pike's Morals and Dogma. Next to Milton and, perhaps,
the American Constitution, I doubt if there is any work so widely owned
and so seldom read. Indeed, it sometimes appears to be read almost exclusively
by people who are trying to use it to attack Pike and Freemasonry. It
has the reputation for being almost impossible to understand. That is
unfortunate, because, while there are some difficult passages, most
of it is easy.
But it's very important to understand what Pike was trying to do with
Morals and Dogma. It is not some kind of "Bible" of
Masonry. That thought would have horrified Pike. It was, instead, virtually
the first attempt ever made to write a survey text on philosophy and
religion.
We're accustomed, now, to college courses, such as "Philosophy
101," which survey a whole field to give a beginning student bits
and pieces of the writings of various thinkers. There are many textbooks
for such courses. But not at the time Pike was writing. There simply
was no one source a person could go to in order to get an overview of
the thinking of people across many ages on some topic or other. Pike
was writing one of the very first texts in "Philosophy of Religion
101." It was a massive undertaking. Much of the material had never
been translated into English. His purpose was simple, and it was the
natural
impulse of a good teacher--to expose his "students" to as
wide a range of thought andinformation as possible. He made mistakes--today
we organize such books differently. Pike had no examples to follow.
Still, this book is not intended as a scholarly treatise to explicate
Morals and Dogma. There is a place for scholarship, of course, but that
place is a classroom, not a conversation between friends. This book
is intended as just such a conversation about a fascinating man. Flawed,
human, prone to error, and capable of astonishing wisdom, insight, and
expression. Pike was not right about everything, although when he found
he was wrong, he corrected the error. A case in point is the age of
Masonry. At the beginning of his career he thought, like many Masons
of his time, that Masonry in its present form started in remote antiquity.
As you'll see in the chapter on Masonry, he corrected that view when
he discovered the truth. There are other areas in which Pike was, by
the standards of our day if not those of his, wrong. I've generally
ignored those for the purposes of this book which is not a psychoanalysis
of Pike, nor a narrow analysis of his social opinions. Rather, it's
a celebration of his wit, his insight, and his sheer genius with words.
I hope you get as big a kick out of reading this as we did out of putting
it together.
I say "we" because, as always, there are lots of people who
are really essential to a book, and whose names don't appear on the
cover. I'll miss some, for which I apologize, but let me make mention
of a few.
First and foremost, of course, was my father, Jack N. Tresner. From
age 21 until his death, he was very active in Masonry and especially
in the Scottish Rite. He gave me a deep love of the Craft and, in particular,
Albert Pike. And my mother, Margaret, who has always supported everything
I and every member of my family have ever done in Masonry.
And then there's The Group--that's what we usually call it--of Brothers
who have for years supported each other in everything: Jimmy Dean Hartzell,
Greg Smith, John and Arlett Caton, Clay Comer, Will Hurd (special thanks
to Will for permission to include one of his paintings in this book),
Tim Heaton, Dana Clark, and Bob Davis. They all suffered patiently while
I read passages from the manuscript to them and, less patiently, having
me call them in the small hours of the morning to say, "Listen
to what I just found!" with no greater a remonstrance than, "Tresner,
what time is it on whatever planet you happen to be on?"
More to the point, at those moments known to every writer when the
project seems impossible, the world is a gloom-filled place and one
wants only to retire to a monastery in Tibet and brew yak-butter tea,
they administered the therapeutic kick in the seat of the trousers which
got me going again, and without which this book would still be nothing
but a memory in a computer.
Bob Davis, General Secretary of the Guthrie, Oklahoma, Scottish Rite
Valley, well known to readers of the Scottish Rite Journal, The Philalethes,
and to anyone involved in Masonic Renewal, read every page of this text
and helped me find the blunders (so if you find a mistake, blame him).
Other readers were: W. Gene Sizemore, Grand Executive Director of The
Supreme Council, 33, S.J., USA; Dr. William L. Fox, Grand Historian
and Grand Archivist of The Supreme Council, 33ø; Warren D. Lichty,
President, Scottish Rite Research Society; and Dr. S. Brent Morris,
Book Review Editor, Scottish Rite Journal. To one and all, thank you!
In addition, thanks to the staff of the Scottish Rite Journal. I owe
everything regarding this book to the Journal's editor, Dr. John W.
Boettjer. He conceived this project, helped find resources in the Library
of the House of the Temple, located artwork for illustrations, and supported
me at every step of the way--not to mention turning the manuscript into
a finished book. Also, Jason Naughton, desktop publishing specialist
in the Journal office in the House of the Temple, aided with the design
and "look" of the book. He is a true "font" of every
blessing. "Graphic" thanks as well to Dr. S. Brent Morris
for his valuable suggestions regarding typography and book design.
My thanks, also, to Joan Kleinknecht, Librarian of the House of the
Temple, for endless photocopying (much of Pike's work exists only in
his manuscript or in fading newspaper clippings), for help with research,
and for great patience. In addition, Earl McDonald photographed nearly
all of the book's illustrative material.
Special thanks go to Mrs. Pauline Boyer Rodriquez, with the library
system of Norman, Oklahoma, who located sources for copies of Pike's
early magazine articles. It turned out that three of them were on microfilm
at the Library of the University of Central Oklahoma. And special thanks,
also, to a lady whose name I do not know, a research librarian at that
University Library, who helped me find the right rolls of microfilm,
and who said almost nothing when I put the reel on the reader backward
and promptly spooled 1,354 feet of microfilm onto the library floor.
She is a mistress of the pitying but non-judgmental glance.
Thanks also to Glenn Dowlen, Professor Emeritus of Voice at Oklahoma
State University (to hear him sing is a great experience) who dug out
the score to "Benny Havens, Oh!" from music of the last century
so that I could include it in the chapter "On Pike Attending His
Own Wake." Also, thanks to Robert Shipe for the photographs of
the school at which Pike first taught in Arkansas.
Also, thanks to the Brethren of the McAlester, Tulsa, and Guthrie Scottish
Rite Bodies in Oklahoma, who made their libraries available to me and
helped in many different ways, and very special thanks to Paul T. Million,
Jr., Sovereign Grand Inspector General in Oklahoma. His fierce determination
to make the Scottish Rite in Oklahoma a real center of excellence in
Degree work, education, and scholarship has opened so many possibilities
to me that the only difficulty has been in finding time to explore all
of them.
I owe a great debt of thanks to the Scottish Rite Research Society,
one of the most active associations of Brethren dedicated to enriching
awareness of our Masonic heritage and its foundations in a long history.
Finally, of course, thanks must be expressed to C. Fred Kleinknecht,
Sovereign Grand Commander, Scottish Rite of Freemasonry, S.J., USA,
and the Founding Member of the Scottish Rite Research Society. Anyone
who loves the work of Pike must appreciate the Grand Commander's efforts
to preserve and strengthen the traditions of the Scottish Rite and to
make certain Pike and his work do not slip into obscurity. In recent
years, there has been a resurgence in Pike studies and a reawakening
to Pike's worth as a philosopher, writer, teacher, reformer, and Mason.
This renewed interest in Pike was partially created and has been greatly
strengthened by the Grand Commander's support of the books on Pike by
Dr. Rex R. Hutchens. I hope this book may serve in the same cause.
To all these people, and to many others, thank you for letting me take
the credit for all you did. We've had a lot of fun.
Jim Tresner
Scottish Rite Research Society
Chapter I
A Little Less Plaster, aLittle More Fire on Albert Pike the Man
I'd like you to meet a friend. His name was Albert Pike, and he knew
how to live!
Generally, people seem to react to Albert Pike in one of three ways.
One group (which usually has not read Pike) says "Ah, Pike!"
and then assumes a pose of silent rapture, supposedly at Pike's overwhelming
greatness but actually so no one can ask them anything about him.
The second, larger group, says, "Uck, Pike!" and then stomps
off. They haven't read Pike either, but everyone's told them he's too
hard to understand, so why try?
The third group has read Pike, and they say, "Wow! What a man!"
Albert Pike suffers from too much plaster. He's been cast as a plaster
saint--the unapproachable intellectual giant who created the Scottish
Rite of Freemasonry in its present form in the Southern Jurisdiction,
USA, the mind so vast as to be incomprehensible. Busts in bronze or
marble (as well as plaster) portray him as the patriarch, penetrating
of eye and stern of brow whom one cannot understand, but can only admire
in awe-struck wonder. Or sneer at in contempt.
There was much of the patriarch in Pike, although less than subsequent
generations have invested there. But there was far more than patriarch,
far more than marble or bronze or plaster. There was fire.
The Pike we need to know better is not the patriarch but the pioneer,
the friend, the crusader for justice for Native Americans (well liked
enough that one tribe paid him the almost unheard of honor of making
him an honorary Chief), the practical joker, the poet,ý the teacher,
the cook, the social lion, the reformer, the explorer referred to by
the historian Grant Foreman as "one of the most remarkable and
interesting characters in the annals of the Southwest"--we need
to know the man.
And man he was! He was dashing and handsome, and a genuine heartbreaker
in his earlier years.
He was a powerful man, six feet and two inches tall, finely formed,
with dark eyes and fair skin, fleet of foot and sure of shot, able to
endure hardship, greatly admired by the Indians.
He was known as the best shot in town. His laugh was so famous it was
written about in the social columns of the Washington, D.C., newspapers.
He always had a new joke or story to tell his friends. He was considered
one of the best dancers in the capital, and society hostesses fought
to get him as a guest at their parties. If General Pike were there,
the party was sure to be a success.
He wore his hair long, when it was not the fashion, and it gave him
an extra air of the exotic. He hardly needed it--he was naturally an
exotic in almost every sense. He was an accomplished violinist,ý
and he sang in a beautiful voice--and it's quite possible that not all
the songs were for mixed company.
He organized hunting and camping parties lasting many days, and served
as the cook for the expeditions (he was famous for his stews of game
and vegetables). Indeed, the leaders of Washington fought to be included
as guests on those trips.
He made and lost fortunes. The story is told that he literally partied
away a large sum of money on a steamer trip up the river from New Orleans
to Little Rock. Allsopp suggests that, even if the story is apocryphal,
the spirit of it is true.
He had hundreds of devoted friends. Once, while he was away from Washington,
an erroneous report of his death reached the city. A great wake had
been planned, and, when a very much alive Albert Pike suddenly appeared
in Washington, D.C., his friends decided to go ahead with the wake anyhow.
Rather like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, Pike got a chance not only to
observe but to participate in his own obsequies. The event, recorded
in the press, nearly turned into a riot. Some of his friends tried to
match him drink for drink, and that was a mistake.
But, with all that, he was a student. He loved to learn and loved to
share what he had learned. His friend, Thomas Hatch, wrote of Pike shortly
after his death:
He would spread out the stores of his knowledge with such infinite tact
and grace that the ignorant man would not feel oppressed by the contrast
between them, and the learned would listen to him, wondering at his
wisdom.
Pike had had to educate himself, and he did a remarkable job of it.
He had wanted to enter Harvard and had done all the study, on his own,
to "test out" of the first two years so that he could enter
with advanced placement. The school was willing to accept his accomplishments,
but insisted he pay the full tuition for the first two years, even though
he had not taken the courses. Pike couldn't afford it, and completed
his education on his own. As Hatch remarks: The action of the authorities
of Harvard in, as it always seemed to him, "demanding wages not
their due," he looked upon as most outrageous, and I have heard
him express his profound contempt for the system which would add anything
to the burden of an already overweighted youth struggling for an education.
However, when he had made a name for himself, as a poet, a lawyer, and
an editor, Harvard, like so many other institutions and so many other
men, seeing the opportunity to gain reflected honors, connected his
name with her own by conferring, in 1859, an honorary degree upon him-
too late to be of any advantage to him, or even to please him by the
empty compliment.
Education was, for Pike, a life-long process. He taught himself languages,
history, philosophy, theology, and law. His ability in the law was sound
enough for him to become one of the best-known lawyers in the South
and to serve as a Justice of the Supreme Court of Arkansas during the
Confederacy. On March 9, 1849, he was admitted, with Abraham Lincoln
and Hannibal Hamlin, to practice before the U.S. Supreme Court. He also
was an educator, and in 1853, he was elected President of the Board
of Trustees of St. John's College, of Little Rock. Nor did Pike's talents
dull with age. As Moore points out:
After he was seventy years of age, he learned the Sanscrit language
and translated from it into English the Veda, that source of the "World-Old"
Philosophy of the Hindoos [Hindus].
The sheer excitement of information breaks out again and again in Pike's
writing.
He wrote extremely well indeed. The contemporary Canadian scholar,
Wallace McLeod, writes of him: He had a sound instinct for right and
wrong, and (in Coil's words) "a profound belief in an all-wise,
moral, and beneficent God." And, oh, he could write! He could recognize
essential truths on which all good men agree, and express them clearly
in such a way that they sound fresh, compelling, and even inspiring;
you find yourself listening, and inwardly nodding your head.
He loved good food, good company, travel, justice, the feel of a quill
pen in his hand, and, perhaps above all, his pipe.
Critics who don't know Pike have saddled him with a reputation as an
ivory-towered intellect, remote from and indifferent to the "real
world." The image fits well with the plaster patriarch, but it
doesn't fit reality. There are few ivory towers on the battlefield,
and Pike was a general. Ivory towers were even rarer on the frontier
where a man ate only if he could hunt his dinner, where he was at constant
risk of death from bandits and marauders, where there was often the
danger of dying of thirst in the desert or freezing in a blizzard, and
where losing one's horse could mean a 500-mile trek to the nearest outpost.
All those
things happened to Pike. As Admiral Winfield Scott Schley, wrote: There
was little known of the vast regions lying West of the great Mississippi
River. They were covered with primeval forests, arid plains and forbidding
mountain ranges, over which wild--animals roamed to the menace of life
and limb of anyone whose hardihood these venturesome fastnesses [impenetrable
wildernesses] attracted. New Mexico at that period (1831) was far beyond
the frontier of our country and between the two lay a veritable "Terra
Incognita" into which few ventured with any hope of return.
Pike's thoughtfulness and introspection did not come from ease and
comfort. As he wrote: I have acquired, by wild and desolate life, a
habit of looking steadily in upon my own mind, and of fathoming its
resources; and perhaps solitude has been a creator of egotism.
Not egotism, exactly; but since Pike arrived at a position only after
considerable thought, he was not easily swayed. He was always willing
to discuss his opinions, however, and could be convinced, with sufficient
evidence, when he was in error.
So who was this man?
As a teacher, he commanded an immense knowledge of both classical literature
and history. As a lawyer, he offered such legal expertise and personal
honesty that he became one of the most respected counsels of mid-19th-century
America. As a pioneer, he traveled extensively and recorded his impressions
vividly. As a general, he was a leader. As a writer and poet, he transformed
the literature of our Scottish Rite. Truly, Albert Pike was a multidimensional
man. His special genius was the ability to infuse every endeavor with
absolute commitment. He had faith in himself and, as importantly, in
America. Love of country motivated him and freedom was his unswerving
guide.
So wrote C. Fred Kleinknecht, in 1986. Similarly, near the beginning
of this century, Fred Allsopp wrote: When the mass of the output of
the brain of this man Pike is considered, is it any wonder that Judge
John Hallum exclaimed that his labors equalled Bonaparte's in another
field? Think of his activities! He performed as much creative writing
as most authors do who devote their lives to literature. Yet he served
altogether perhaps three fourths of the mature years of his life on
the editorial tripod, in the field as a soldier, as a lawyer at the
bar, and as Grand Commander of the Supreme Council, Southern Jurisdiction,
of the Scottish Rite--and excelled in every line of endeavor.
He was all that, and he was more. He was a profound student of philosophy--who
loved the sight of a pretty face, a well-prepared meal, and a belly
laugh. He was the principal expounder of the Scottish Rite for the Southern
Jurisdiction--who got fired from a teaching job for "playing the
fiddle on Sunday," ate horse meat when starving in the prairie,
wrote satiric verse, and provided the entertainment at his own, premature,
wake. He was a great lover of peace and supporter of the Constitution--who
was a General for the South in the Civil War and fought in the last
duel ever held in Arkansas. He was a lover of nature and beauty and
wilderness--who was one of the first, if not the first, to suggest a
railroad linking the East and West coasts and who tried to convince
the South to industrialize.
He was, in short, a man of great imagination, daring, creativity, and
determination who never lost his love of a practical joke. He was, in
short, a man.
Not long ago, at a Scottish Rite meeting, I was standing near Dr. Rex
R. Hutchens, when a Brother came up to him and started talking about
Pike. "I don't think I would have liked to know him," the
Brother remarked. "I think he would have talked way over my head."
"No," Rex replied, "he seems to have been able to talk
to anyone in a way they could understand and enjoy."
True. Pike adjusted his style of writing to the purpose of the words.
He was perfectly capable of writing simple, easy-to-understand prose--as
he often did in his essays, editorials, and letters. He was a very effective
communicator. In some of the materials we'll look at later, Pike wrote
beautiful explanations for children of the nature of God's love, and
what it means to love your neighbor as yourself--and a child can understand
them. In addition, as we'll see, even the majority of Morals and Dogma
is written in easy-to-understand prose.
But there are a few things we must remember.
First of all, Pike was writing more than a century ago, and people
were much more accustomed to reading then. One computer program I have
tests the reading level of material. The average newspaper story today
is written somewhere between the fifth-grade and the ninth-grade reading
level--as we now define those levels. When I measured several newspaper
stories from the late 1800s (not written by Pike), I found they averaged
the fifteenth-grade level--the level of a Junior in college. And these
stories were read and understood by people who, on average, did not
go past the third grade. One wonders what has happened to our standards.
And there was another factor at play. Eloquence was especially important
in the 1800s. The most popular books printed were collections of sermons
and speeches. It was assumed a public speech would last at least two
hours--the audience felt cheated if it were shorter--and that the speaker
would demonstrate his ability with the clever and exciting use of words.
So Pike's audience was not only experienced in listening and reading,
but they expected an idea would be "clothed in excellence and imagery."
(Remember, that while we now consider Lincoln's Gettysburg Address one
of the greatest speeches given, most of the people of the time thought
it shoddy and over simplified, and the newspapers of the day pointed
out that it was a disgrace that the President of the United States should
speak in so plain, simple, and unornamented a style.) Pike's style,
far less ornate and elaborate in most places than was the typical sermon
or speech of the day, really isn't difficult to follow.
But it isn't intended for scanning or speed reading. Pike is not a
fast-food hamburger to be gulped down on the run. He is a feast, prepared
by a master chef, to be enjoyed at leisure.
His daughter, Lilian Pike Roome, wrote in the introduction to General
Albert Pike's Poems, a collection of her father's lyrical works:
Although he never in later years referred to it with any expression
of bitterness, he lived constantly in an atmosphere of restraint when
a boy; for he was by heredity and by nature a thinker, a student and
a poet; large-minded, high-strung, sensitive, chivalrous, munificent,
communicative with those he loved, but reserved to strangers and uncongenial
persons; ambitious and conscious of his powers, yet diffident and modest,
easily depressed by unkind words and sneers, but steadfast in his determination
to do something, to be a power in the world. Thrown with rigid Puritans,
who had little toleration for sentiment, and scorned poetry and "flowery
talk," as they called anything imaginative and ideal, it is not
to be wondered at that he longed to breathe a freer air, to lead a wider
life than the purely materialistic one of wage-earning and eating and
drinking, with no thought of greater things, no interchange of ideas,
no aspirations toward intellectual development.
As much as I love Pike's prose and much as I really enjoy reading his
light verse and satire, I must admit in some of his "serious"
poetry that "sentiment" and "flowery talk" make
it all but unreadable for me. Highly regarded as his Hymns to the Gods
was during his life, I, having read it once from a sense of duty, probably
will not read it again unless as an act of penitence. But let him start
to have fun in verse, as he does with "One Spree at Johnny Coyle's,"
or "The Fine Arkansas Gentleman," or "Oh, Jamie Brewed
a Bowl of Punch," or "A Dollar or Two," or, in his "serious
stuff," let him forget the conventions of his day and just write,
and I'm with him to the end, and only wish he had written more.
Pike, incidentally, was aware of his shortcomings as a poet, much as
he had once longed to make that his career. In his autobiography, he
writes: I felt that I was a pretty good lawyer, and could do some things
pretty well with a pen; but I did not think I was a very great poet.
Actually, he was a good critic, both of poetry and of drama, with an
excellent sense of judgment when it came to the work of others. He said,
in one of his essays, that he knew the difference between a good and
a bad poem, and knew what made a poem good. He just couldn't do it.
His remarks on the lesser-known poets of early England show remarkable
insight, taste, and judgment. Even so, one of the things with which
he was most impressed when he studied them was the way in which the
concerns of the world had changed since they wrote.
Pike writes:
Among these [fragments of poetry which have come down from the past]
are the writings of many of the old English poets, forgotten, little
more known to us beyond their names, (if even these are known) than
the dead of the last generation, in their coffins, under the ground.
I read these, now and then, and it seems strange and a wonder, that
the men and things in which they took so living and eager an interest
should have been as actual as we and the things of this day are and
that they should have passed away, and all the hopes and fears and loves
and hates and vanities and ambitions and the questions and interests
in which the fate of the world and of coming generations seemed to depend
should so utterly have come to naught, and be as though they had never
been at all, and no more to us than the story of a dream, which interests
only him who tells it, and wearies everyone who hears it.-- When I read
the political satire of some of these old poets and consider how utterly
forgotten are the men and events that aroused their indignation, how
totally alien to our sympathies all the feelings are that they express
as much as if they had been uttered when the pyramid was building, I
feel inclined to burn what I have written and to write no more.
Fortunately for us, that fire was never built.
It is an irony that Pike has become so much discussed and so little
read. The irony is even more bitter because the same thing happened
to Pike that he described as having happened to George Washington. In
the seventh and eighth decades of the nineteenth century, Washington
was far less regarded than he is now. Pike pictures Washington's fate
in much the same words that one might use in writing of Pike himself,
today.
He is mentioned occasionally, because it is the proper thing to do,
but he has long ceased to be an idol. Twenty or thirty years ago his
Farewell Address was read on solemn occasions, but few boys of this
day have even heard of it. His writings, in twelve volumes, are little
more regarded than backgammon-boards, lettered on the backs to look
like books. The fashion of visiting Mt. Vernon has not entirely died
out, but it is in feeble health, and his monument [the Washington Monument
obelisk], commenced twenty and more years ago, will be finished when
the world is.
Is this wholly a proof of the ingratitude of the people? No: the people
never had a familiar affection for Washington. Those who grew up after
the Revolution were taught to revere him as the most pure, immaculate,
passionless and infallible of all mankind. He was made too god-like
a character, having the perfection, with the immobility, the want of
human sympathy, of a marble statue, with its snowy luster and its colors.
He was made to seem too rigidly righteous, too dignified, unapproachable,
formal, prim and precise, a serene and majestic Jupiter.
As it is, the statue in the Capitol grounds, huge, cold, half naked,
half clad in a Roman toga, fitly expresses the people's conception of
him; and his memory is as unregarded as the statue.
In the pages that follow, you'll have a chance to meet my friend Albert
Pike as he plays and thinks and muses and jokes. You'll have a chance
to hear him speculate on Masonry and morality and love and politics.
You'll share his comments of
backwoodsmen in Arkansas and women's fashions in Washington. And I think
you'll find him to be inspiring and provoking and rewarding--and possessed
of a really pointed sense of humor. Perhaps you, too, will come to share
my "familiar affection" for him.
I'll do my best to stay out of the way, just setting up some of Pike's
material with a little background when that seems helpful.
The reader may justly complain that the book is less than organized--it
does not provide a smooth overview of the historic development of Pike's
thinking. But then, neither did Pike. The chapters have been arranged
topically rather than chronologically. And even then there are overlaps.
Religion sneaks into nature, sensuality creeps into education, and humor
pokes its head into almost everything. But Pike is perfectly capable
of hitting five topics in two sentences and never pausing for breath.
It's a large part of his charm that he relates topics not normally related,
and makes it work. There is an index to help bring ordo ab chao if need
be.
Because our language changes and words come into and go out of fashion
and common use, I've put some words in [brackets] to explain or define
a term Pike uses which is no longer common.
Sample Chapter 2
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