One Sunday of March, 1937, I attended church for the confirmation of my daughter, Terrelita, in Washington. My wife and I were very proud, and the ceremoney was to us, at least, beautiful and touching.

Finally it came time for Bishop Freeman of the Diocese of Washington to deliver his sermon. For several moments he spoke with religious fervor, and well. Something, however, hung heavy on the Bishop's soul.

I soon found out what it was. It was this lack of respect of young people for their elders. Lack of respect for our great institutions. "Certainly I never would have put my hand out for relief when I was young. We had to work. Imagine young people in my time asking for a handout!" Ah, me, this youth movement!

And he continued, conscientiously and forcefully, to denounce the sin of the times—that is, the difference between things now and as he saw them when a boy. He was really worried and frightened. It was one of those passionate but vain cries for the good old times that used to be—and which will never return.

As Terrelita came out, she said: "Well, Papa, that was a great Republican speech."

Inasmuch as the Bishop had just gotten through sorrowing over such impudent children, I stared my daughter down. During the sermon some in church seemed to smile at the Bishop's naive and plaintive cry. And one thing was morally certain: no one was brave enough to face him and tell him he was steaming down the wrong river. He belonged on the River Jordan, whose shoals and sand bars and shores he knew. But at this late date he had sailed down the Republican River, and was naturally afraid.

I mention none of this in an irreverent spirit. The Bishop represented the real, deeply sincere view of many thousands of good Americans, of whom he is one. He is not a political bishop, and is a man of dignity.

Later in the month I happened over to the Senate Office Building to take in the hearings on the plan to reform the judiciary. There was Senator Henry Fountain Ashurst of the State of Arizona, Chairman of the mighty Judiciary Committee of the Senate, resplendent in morning coat and the proper trousers, vest and trimmings. The Senator rapped for order. I sat near him.

Suddenly a hush came over the audience. In front came the Bishop! As he approached, boys passed press handouts as though they were acolytes preceding him at some religious observance. He took his seat.

He began by saying that he has rarely taken part in politics, which is quite true. But then, he said, this was a question for "high-minded American citizens," and with sadness in his voice, "it comes at a time when reverence and respect for law and those who administer it are at tragically low ebb."

He spoke with emphasis of "disregard of constituted authority"; he said he was "appalled" about something; denounced "lower moral standards" and "violent critcisms of the judiciary." It was all one to him. Then he praised the Court as being composed of "honorable and distinguished men," a bull's-eye for the obvious.

The Bishop stopped dead in the tracks of his speech, asking for the mature wisdom of age, begging that it not be supplanted by "the quick and pliant wit of youth." He held out his hand as if in despair, while the photographers flash-bulbed him, and said something else was "too terrible to be contemplated." He continued with such words as the "august tribunal," "ruthless and self-seeking despots," and "hallowed and sacred."

He, I think, represented an example of many of the "best" and most sincere people in the country. He was literally and frankly telling of his outright panic—and unconsciously, of his reverence for Supreme Court taboos. There seems to be a reason for this. From the adoption of the Bill of Rights, the guarantee of religious liberty has given us singularly enlightened churches. Our churches have as a whole been progressive from the viewpoint of science, education and knowledge. There have been occasional outbursts against evolution, but no church has blocked humanitarian or scientific movements by the use of some medieval taboo.

With no king, no nobility, spiritual or temporal; and presidents, representatives, governors and senators elected; religion free; only one taboo was left—the Supreme Court. Aloof, not responsible, secure with their life salaries, working in secret with mysterious words, they have become the Great American Taboo.

Throughout the long testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee, very little has been said that is new or enlightening. Some liberals, even radicals, have come before the committee in a state of fear, worshipping before the
Supreme Court as some unseen power which works in secret, rather than speaking on it.

Many of the witnesses are not ones who even want to know why Mr. Justice Roberts changes his mind so often, and gives opinions which could not conceivably come from the same man if he had any consistency or continuity of purpose whatever. That one judge may nod his head and by this mysterious nod uproot and change the lives of millions seems natural to some people. For, many think, Wise Men, Supreme above the People, Supreme above the President, Supreme above Public Opinion, Supreme above the Congress, will give the law, handing it down at the proper time.

The speech made by the Bishop, using his exact words, was a defense of "age and grey hairs." He was upholding the right of wise men to hand us tables from Mount Sinai. In short, his idea was that if the common people will just keep quiet, they would finally be handed down some tables, and would then know just what to do.

If the Supreme Court is to be the binding power of the American Government, it must protect the civil and religious liberties of the people, rather than set itself aloof and above, breaking down the power of that Government. Its duty is also to interpret the laws fairly, enforce the laws enacted by the people through their representatives, and to settle conflicts of State and Federal laws. Above all, it seems to me, it should realize the American people know what they want and will not be deterred from getting it by the use of magic words.

Judges should be respected, but not worshipped. If common sense and the English language mean anything, their opinions are opinions, and not Holy Writ. Judicial process should be simple, plain, understandable, and out in the open.

With highest respect, these judges are not Nine Gods, but nine American gentlemen and lawyers. It might be well for them to study the mythology by which they wield their power, since this is a modern age. At the present time they are Titans of truly titanic power. The noise of battle concerning them is great:

". . . dire was the noise
Of the conflict; overhead the dismal hiss,
Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew,
And, flying vaulted either host with fire." [Milton's Paradise Lost]

And no doubt the judges enjoy it.

The story from Greek mythology tells that giants, bound deep down in the earth, tore great pieces of stone and marble, and threw them in the sky. The Titans were overwhelmed, and thrown from Mount Olympus. Down, down, went the Titans, nine days and nine nights. At the bottom of the Pit, where they were buried, a brazen wall was built around them. The Giants of the Earth stood guard, preventing them from escaping.

But our Nine Human Beings are located on this earth. They meet on this earth, and not on Mount Olympus. The marble surrounding them is really earth—only it is harder, shinier, and more expensive. Below you will find not the Pit, to which were thrown the Titans. You will find a cafeteria, just such as you see along Broadway or Main Street.