The mirror., 1923-12-06
ADDRESS OF P. C. C. CRITIC
By Mr.. F. c. M.

When the honor of "Critic" of our mod
est society was conferred upon me, l had
my doubts as to whether was the proper
person for the post. No matter what
amount of education or experience in the
world man may have attained there still
remains feeling that to criticize the work
of fellow student may leave an unwhole-
some taste in the mouth of the one criti-
cized.
1t was not my duty as critic of this
literary society to criticize the individuals
thought, nor to disseminate a polite idea,
if it is just. To create an argument for
the sake of discord, or to pervert the in
dividual mind would be wrong. Such
methods would not be in keeping with the
trust given US by those who have allowed
us these precious moments of relaxation
from routine and discipline.
Most of us have contributed in some
manner toward this forgetfulness of pur-
pose and each moment so gained has given
us a precious thought that shall always
linger in our memory.
Each meeting added to our store of
knowledge in worthy way, proving,
that no matter what circumstance may
bring us, we, as individuals, can attune
our minds to rise above the commonplace.
This same thought holds good for every
one, and by an effort, we psychologically,
arise from environment.
This group of students has much to ac-
claim for itself. Amongst ourselves we
have shown marvellous range of adapt
ability. Originality of thought and wit,
free verse, essays of remarkable individ-
ualism, art of paint and brush, excellent
in its quality of perspective and color tone
value, deep appreciation of music as
shown by our reception of the Honorary
MEMBERS kindness, should only urge US
to become more conversant with our inner
selves. By continuance of these sperfor-
mances we contribute to the proper func-
tioning of the "Pierian Chautauqua Circle"
We have laughed at the "virtue" of
Lillian and extolled the political prob
abilities of Magnus Johnson, and so by
mixing the humor with the practical
thoughts of life have combined both the
business and pleasure of meeting.
Poetry represents the idealic thought
that each of us guard so jealousy. No
one, but holds some idea passionately to
himself, that overwhelms the material.
Who can say that our famous poets have
not the right to their laurels? Isn't it
true that Reilly, Schiller, Milton, Haw-
thorne, D'Annunzio, should wear the
crown of posterity? Both Byron and Shell
ley rose to immortal fame. The allusion
is clear. The nationality of nations, and
their legendary rest upon the poet laureate.
Salonica has twice been defended!
The arts of painting! and music! Wiz
ardry of brush; chemistry of color, that
blends the spectrum and gives the repre-
sentation in hues so brilliant. Picturiza-
ton of countryside, our homes, ancestors,
ourselves. We read descriptions of
ancient battles, but it has been our artists
who have visualized in color, the action,
drama, charging ferceness of intent, for
us to understand.
Even the posters of our World War
enthralled US with patriotism. If such
stirring pictures had not urged US, would
we so enthusiastically have Carried on?"
Music, whether doleful, rythmatic, mod
crate, or quick of tempo, reacts upon our
minds as either tonic or sedative. We
cry with its pathos, we dance to its rythm,
we laugh at its humor, and become brave
at its martial air and thunder. Truly the
Gods made music. The fife and drum
called American compatriots to free them
selves from tyranny. Again its tunefulness
is salve to the aching heart. Music
hath charms! 'Tis true, for it lifts our
thoughts to the heroic and Gains the