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| Memories of
Nock and Neilson |
| [Reprinted from Fragments,
April-June 1982] |
Was Albert Jay Nock the scholar he claimed to be? Francis
Neilson. who, together with Nock, edited the old Freeman,
claimed that Nock was a poseur who used a book of Latin and Greek
phrases and their translations to spike his copy with an air of
classical erudition.
I should be able to cast some light on the issue of scholarship, for
Nock was a friend of mine. and Francis Neilson was my collaborator and
mentor for twenty years. Helen Swift Neilson, Nock's patroness for seven
years, was a very dear friend; she was also my adviser when, with the
help of Violetta G. Peterson, I was nursing The American Journal of
Economics and Sociology in-to maturity. Ben Huebsch, who was the
publisher of The Freeman, was a friend whom I saw every week for
about ten years before his death. I was also acquainted with Suzanne La
Follette, Nock's right-hand woman on the magazine.
To understand why Neilson wrote so rancorously about Nock, it is
necessary to know Nock's history. After he was graduated from St.
Stephen's College (now Bard College), Nock attended a theological
seminary and became a priest of the Episcopal Church. He married and had
two sons, both of whom became college teachers and distinguished
scholars. Whether his wife and he separated, I do not know. Nock served
in the clergy in Ohio under a bishop who was noted for his advocacy of
the Single Tax, and there made the acquaintance of leading Georgists:
Tom Johnson, Brand Whitlock, and Newton D. Baker. He also was an
intimate friend of William Jennings Bryan, the famous presidential
candidate, who played a leading role in the later Progressive Movement
and became Secretary of State in the first Wilson administration.
Eventually, Nock left the ministry. I believe that he underwent a
crisis of faith. He became a muckraking journalist and wrote, in an
extremely polished style, for some of the leading magazines of the
pre-war era.
Francis Neilson, as a leading British pacifist, fought against Greet
Britain's entry into World War I. When war commenced, he quit his seat
in the Parliament, took his family to the United States, and became an
American citizen. In 1915, before he emigrated, he wrote How
Diplomats Make War and gave the manuscript to Nock to take to Ben
Huebsch, his New York publisher. Nock, according to Huebsch (and
contrary to the inaccurate statements made by others, and by me, did not
collaborate in the work. The book caused a sensation in America.
Neilson's wife did not like the United States. She returned to England,
and they were divorced. Neilson married Helen Swift Morris, the talented
daughter and heiress of Gustavus Swift. She first met Neilson when he
was the leader of the "Young Turks," the radical wing of the
English Liberal Party. She also knew Nock, and financially assisted The
Nation when Nock was connected with it.
When war ended, Nock asked Helen Neilson to subsidize a new Georgist
weekly that he planned to establish. She agreed enthusiastically. The
two of them broached the subject to Francis Neilson. When he could not
persuade them to drop the idea, he took over the planning. And thus was
born The Freeman, published in the fashion of Addison's and
Steele's Spectator and Tatler. The new magazine
was almost entirely Neilson's conception. It aimed at the serious
readers, and, eventually, it won the allegiance of seven thousand of
them.
The historians of American literature claimed that the old Freeman
was unique because it was "distinguished by good prose and the
Single Tax." Good prose it certainly had, and it was Nock, with the
help of his staff, who saw to that. Celebrated writers, such as Thomas
Mann, Gerhart Hauptmann, and Thorstein Veblen, contributed
excellently-written articles. However, neither Nock nor Neilson was a
Single Taxer. This was also true of Henry George, whom the
encyclopedists dubbed a Single Taxer. George fought against calling the
Single Tax a panacea. The only panacea he knew, he said, was "freedom."
As for Nock and Neilson, they considered themselves Georgists, and they
both held the "panacea mongers" in silent contempt. What The
Freeman presented was the Georgist ethical and radical-liberal
viewpoint, not the Single Tax.
After a while, unfortunately, much friction developed between Nock and
Neilson. One of the reasons for such friction was that Nock rewrote many
of Neilson's articles in Nock's own distinctive style, causing the
readers to assume that "Nock was the Freeman."
Neilson bitterly resented this assumption (the rumor of which soon
reached him). Over and over again, as if he were reciting a litany, he
would rattle off the names of the staff. Van Wyck Brooks, Geroid
Tanquary Robinson, Walter Fuller, Suzanne La Follette, and so on. It was
the lot of them, he maintained, not one or two, who made the magazine
what it was. To the professional journalist, this was obviously true.
The reading public, however, was under the illusion that Nock
(practically alone) edited the magazine.
An additional source of friction was Nock's practice of rewriting
Neilson's editorials, as well as his articles. Neilson had a natural,
graceful style that enabled him to engage in intimate communication with
the reader -- I know, for I copy-edited Neilson's manuscripts for twenty
years. My New York Times rewrite colleagues and I would consider
it unethical to put the stamp of our individual styles on other people's
writings. Nock obviously did not share our views. If Neilson had not
later established his own claim to stylistic honors (in the essays
which, with the devoted collaboration of Phyllis Evans, he wrote until
he was ninety-four), Nock's actions would have to be characterized as
deplorable.
Did Neok do his rewriting to pass off somebody else's work as his own?
Neilson thought so, but he never succeeded in persuading me. I believe
that since Nock considered his style to be the acme of all styles, he
thought all good writing in The Freeman should be presented in
that style. He wanted the magazine to succeed.
Neilson, himself, ungrudgingly paid tribute to Nock as the man who kept
the enterprise going for the four years of its existence (1920-1924).
Suzanne La Follette claimed that Nock's prodding and encouragement
brought out the best in everybody and assured the continuance of the
excellent prose -- even if the prose did suffer from the sense of
sameness.
The differences between Neilson and Neok were exacerbated when Neilson
wrote a sequel to How Diplomats Make War. He called it The
Myth of a Guilty Nation. He sent the manuscript to Nock, to be
published serially in The Freeman. Nock proceeded to rewrite the
book from start to finish in his own style, and then published it under
the nom de plume of "Journeyman." As a result, the
congratulations went to Nock instead of to Neilson, its true author.
Years later, Nock denied that he had had any intentions of robbing
Neilson of credit for his book. He pointed out that How Diplomats
Make War was also published under a nom de plume -"Statesman,"
I believe. But I am at a loss to understand why Nock allowed the notion
to get abroad that he was the author.
Did the quarrel between Neilson and Nock bring about the demise of The
Freeman? My own view is that the magazine died as a result of a
combination of circumstances. Neilson, as the former stage director of
the London Royal Opera, was anxious to take his wife on an artistic and
musical tour of Europe; Nock was anxious to be off to his beloved Low
Countries.
The high cost of publishing The Freeman may also have played a
role in its termination. Helen Neilson told me that the magazine's
deficit was two million dollars. She was prepared to continue supporting
The Freeman, but when she lost a considerable part of her
fortune (to save a friend from bankruptcy), she was unable to contribute
as before. In any case, and for whatever reason, The Freeman
ceased to exist.
With the aid of three ether patronesses, Nock was able to turn out a
series of books much beloved by the cognoscenti, but he was little able
to contribute much to what Neilson used to call "his larder."
Nock also continued to write articles, one of which caused him much
trouble. At the very time of Nazi anti-Semitism, Nock decided to write a
two-part essay about the Jews. I remember that this essay gave me very
great misgivings; and my forebodings were correct. The liberal weeklies
hinted or stated that Nock was an anti-Semite. I did not believe it
then, and I do not believe it now. The outcry against Nock, however,
ended his article-writing career. From that point on, he concentrated
only on books.
It is in his books that one may find the answer to the question
originally asked: was Nock a scholar? In his excellent "rewrites,"
he depended mostly on ether scholars. His biographies of Henry George
and Thomas Jefferson, for instance, were based on the works of Henry
George, Jr., and Charles and Mary Beard, respectively. Nock's Our
Enemy, the State was a fine rewrite of the shorter version of Franz
Oppenheimer's The State. (However, Professor Oppenheimer, an
intimate collaborator of mine, told me that Nock misunderstood
Oppenheimer's views of the State and government.)
When Our Enemy, the State was published, Frank Chodorov (then
the director of the Henry George School) and I had long discussions
about the book. It raised many more questions than it answered, we
thought. Chodorov proposed that we should try to get Nock to spell out
his position in more detail, and to that end we should get him to give a
series of lectures on the subject. Would I persuade Nock to accept? I
told Chodorov that I would introduce him to Nock and depend on Chodorov
to do the persuading.
We called upon Neck, oho succumbed to Chodorov's blandishments. I wrote
the agenda for the lectures and tried to put in all the questions that
had occurred to Chodorov and to me. But we were profoundly disappointed
in Nock. Everything that he said was already in his book. At the end of
the lectures, Chodorov and I looked at each other in disbelief.
Subsequently, we also discovered that Nock completely failed to refer to
the original German version of Oppenheimer's book, which contained much
material that the English version did not have. Nock professed to read
German, but he did not even bother to read the original Oppenheimer
text.
When I narrated this incident to Neilson, his explanation for Nock's
apparent lack of diligence was that Nock was lazy. I could not accept
the explanation. My own guess was that Nock suffered from an illness
that limited his activity. Nock's work on Rabelais, I said, even though
the basic research was done by Catherine Rose Wilson, sufficiently
demonstrated the depths and heights of Nock's own scholarship. Neilson
listened to what I had to say, thought for a while, and then said
frankly: "That Nock I did not know. I should only speak of Nock the
journalist, the Nock I knew." And that was his policy thereafter.
What were Nock's contributions to social thought? They consisted of his
thesis of the Remnant (which was basically a biblical version of
Vilfrede Pareto's theory of the elites) and his promulgation of
individualist anarchism (a political philosophy that owed much to the
writings of Benjamin Tucker, Josiah Warren, Lysander Spooner, and Max
Stirner). I never agreed with Nock's anarchistic views, but neither did
I agree with Joseph Dana Miller's dictum that Nock was a defeatist.
I honor Nock for his co-editorship of The Freeman, for his
journalistic writings, and for his (at times) scholarly books. I also
honor him for having had the courage of his convictions. He had much to
say: of value to the past, present, and future generations. He earned
the right to be heard.
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