have not written very much pure poetry in the sense in-
tended by Mr. Richards, and poetry has survived. Mr.
Richards' brash and somewhat ridiculous little book (he
has written many others for which one must have consid-
erable respect) has been rather generally forgotten and
can be read today only as a revelation of the follies gen-
erated by the positivistic materialism of the early twen-
tieth century. Yet some of the issues it raises are still with
us, as witness the intensive study of the relations of the
language of poetry and the language of science that has
been so prominent an aspect of the critical and philo-
sophical achievement of the last quarter-century. If as
critics we no longer wonder whether poetry will survive,
as philosophers we are concerned with "the place of value
in a world of fact" and as critics with a proper statement
of the way in which it can be said that poetry conveys
knowledge.

The rediscovery of religious values by many intellec-
tuals in the past few years has, like the progress of criti-
cism beyond the point reached by the early works of Mr.
Richards and like the continued survival, the positive
flourishing, of a type of poetry for which Mr. Richards
could see no future, had its effect in altering the questions
we ask about the relations of poetry and science. Though
religion may be only feebly operative in our society, it is
at least no longer clear that it is safely dead. Whether
that fact means the hope of a saving age of faith or the
danger of a new age of barbarism depends on one's point
of view; but it is a fact. Positivists are increasingly alarmed
at "the new failure of nerve," those who see religion as
something more than blended superstition and ignorance
are somewhat inclined to be hopeful; both agree that

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