Author: David Spiech Page 207 of 283

To George Sturgis
Hôtel Savoy
194bis, rue de Rivoli
Paris. June 21, 1936

I am established here rather comfortably, with a splendid view, otherwise in a rather modest hotel, where everything is rather faded and dingy: but I like the quiet, and if the very warm weather we have been having doesn’t keep up too long or become oppressive, I expect to stay here all summer. I go to lunch with Strong every day at his hotel, and in the evening pick up a little dinner or supper–usually only a roast-beef sandwich and a demi of beer–at some café or restaurant. Cory is also in Paris, but at a pension of his own, and I see him only two or three times a week.

Other friends will probably turn up later.

Yours affly,

G. S.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Five, 1933-1936.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2003.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA

To Daniel MacGhie Cory
Hotel Victoria
Glion, Switzerland. June 20, 1929

I enclose a cheque which I hope you won’t have any difficulty in cashing. In making it out, I have had a vague feeling that perhaps life on the Lido involves new expenses, and that you may be hard up. If so, tell me frankly, because you know that, while I don’t want to spoil you for a good hard-working American life, yet for the present I feel responsible for looking after you decently: and a few pounds more or less make absolutely no difference to my own income, as they come out of the dead fund in London, and not out of my pocket. Here, by the way, I am economizing —involuntarily, but not unwillingly — half of what I used to spend monthly in Rome. My pension costs 18 Swiss francs, or about $4 a day; with all extras it doesn’t exceed $5. They had nothing to give me but a single room without a bath, but with hot and cold water, space enough for my things, and a balcony overlooking the lake from a great height. So I have fallen back into my old habit of living like a monk in his cell, and rather like it. I don’t bathe at all, but wash myself with a nice new sponge. This I am ready to keep up all summer, having once fallen into the pace; and it may be necessary, as poor Strong has developed a new trouble, and is rather shaky.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Four, 1928-1932.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2003.
Location of manuscript: Butler Library, Columbia University, New York NY

To Macmillan and Co.
Messrs Macmillan & Co
Cambridge, MA. June 19, 1895

Gentlemen:

This morning I sent you by express the manuscript of my book on Aesthetics “The Sense of Beauty” about which I had already written to you, and received from you a very kind and welcome reply. I leave on Saturday for Spain, sailing from New York on the Werra. My address during the summer will be care of Brown Shipley & Co, London, but I shall be at Avila, in Spain, during July, and any communication sent to me there will reach me more directly. I shall of course be glad to hear from you as soon as possible. This book has been so long in preparation that I am eager to have the last uncertainties in regard to it over, and to feel that it is, as far as I am concerned, a thing of the past.

Yours very truly,
G Santayana

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book One, [1868]-1909.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2001.
Location of manuscript: The New York Public Library, New York City

To Daniel MacGhie Cory
Venice, Italy. June 18, 1931

I expect to leave on the 22nd for Cortina d’Ampezzo, Hotel Miramonte, because although the heat here isn’t sensuously unpleasant, it keeps me from walking or writing. I have done nothing but read novels, one of which I am sending you—very cynical, but perhaps a hint of what you may find in England now-a-days, if you go there. I have also read Babbit, not the professor but the old novel by Sinclair Lewis. I like it: on another plane, it is very much in the spirit of The Last Puritan: but of course I make no attempt to rival the speech of his characters. As diagnosis, it seems fair.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Four, 1928-1932.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2003.
Location of postcard manuscript: Butler Library, Columbia University, New York NY

To Daniel MacGhie Cory
Grand Hotel
Rome. June 17, 1941

It is pleasant to know that you have given a brilliant lecture at Columbia and drawn the enemy fire. You can’t persuade a philosopher against his will; but you may feel a wind of doctrine blowing through his defenses against him. Opinions get very rapidly stale in our time.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Seven, 1941-1947.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2006.
Location of manuscript: Butler Library, Columbia University, New York NY