Author: David Spiech Page 225 of 283

To Rosamond Thomas Bennett Sturgis
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Rome. March 15, 1946

[T]here is an orthodox system of life and thought, called apparently “democracy” which must be made the basis and criterion of right education and . . . right character. This is new to me in America. In my time Harvard wasn’t at all inspired in that way. Not that anyone was hostile to democracy, but that we thought enlightenment lay in seeing it, and all other things, in the light of their universal relations, so as to understand them truly, and then on the basis of the widest possible knowledge, to make the best of the facts and opportunities immediately around us. But now education is to be inspired by revealed knowledge of the vocation of man, and faith in our own apostolic mission. Perhaps the war has made this view more prevalent than it would have been in uninterrupted peace.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Seven, 1941-1947.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2006.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA

To Benjamin Alexander Morton
C/o Brown Shipley & Co
1123 Pall Mall
London
Rome. March 14, 1924

That the human brain and heart are the central office, so to speak, where all messages are received and resent, and that without such delicate personal, often inexplicable redirection of forces there would be no human life, morality, or history, I think is certain; but I am afraid we should get into hopeless difficulties if we tried to stop at the conscious origins of our actions and feelings. Consciousness is a very superficial thing.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Three, 1921-1927.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2002.
Location of manuscript: Alderman Library, University of Virginia at Charlottesville

To George Sturgis
Hotel Bristol
Rome. March 13, 1937

Chess is a contest: but suppose we remove the motive of vanity or love of winning; you might satisfy that by seeing who can drink the other man under the table, rather than who can checkmate him upon it. And suppose we eliminate also any gambling or partisan interest in having one side win rather than the other, even if you are a mere onlooker. Now my question is this: How much of the fascination of chess comes from the excitement of carrying out a purpose under opposition: a suggestion or after-image of difficulties in living? …. The point that touches my philosophy is whether the living interest in non-living things is normal in man, or is a mere eccentricity or illusion, in that nothing can really concern us except our own life.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Six, 1937-1940.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2004.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA

To Guy Murchie
Cambridge, Massachusetts. March, 12 ’96

It is hard for a young man like you to distinguish the charm of a particular woman from that of woman in general, to distinguish affinity from proximity. Russell’s misfortunes all sprang from his inexperience in this respect, so that the danger of it is very present to my mind. If you could weather this storm, the very experience would strengthen you and enlighten you for the future; and after a few years of life among men and women you could go to the woman you would be proudest to call your own, and say, “I love you with my whole soul and my whole mind; I have chosen you from all the world.” That is a man’s love, which is a better and safer one than a boy’s, and a kind you could offer, very likely, to this same girl when you came back to her with your character formed and your resolution made. It is the kind of love I should now feel for the woman of my choice, and the kind I feel for you too, dear Guy, who are a great deal more to me than any of my friends could be when I was a young fellow, and could not really know either myself or other men. There is resolution in this sort of love, it is the expression of character and not of chance. And I should wish you to come to it some day; it is worth waiting for. You will forgive this long sermon, and forget it if your mind is already made up. I have written all this because, if it happens to be in the line of your own reflections, it might help you a little towards clearness. If not, it will do no harm since you will pay no attention to it.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book One, [1868]-1909.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2001.
Location of manuscript: Collection of Guy Murchie, Jr.

To Mary Potter Bush
C/o Brown Shipley & Co London
Oxford, England. March 11, 1916

Dear Mrs Bush,
Although the battle of Verdun is still going on, I think the worst consequences which we feared at first are less threatening, whatever the issue may be. The French have defended themselves so efficaciously that even if they retire, it will probably not be without having inflicted paralysing losses on the enemy. It is all very horrible and very perilous; but I feel on the whole less depressed and oppressed than hitherto.

. . . . When one thinks that the greater part of mankind have always had war at their gates, and no certainty of food for the morrow, and yet have survived and been merry on every possible pretext, one understands how it is possible to get used to anything even to this war.

. . . . As to The New Republic, I have long been despleased with it, and am not going to contribute to it any longer. They seem to be a set of disinherited Bohemians, clever and amiable enough, but without any solid affections or any solid instruction. I like some of them personally, and for that reason consented to write for them sometimes, but I don’t like their friends nor their principles. And I imagine they have not force enough to count for very much, even on the wrong side.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Two, 1910-1920.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2001.
Location of manuscript: Butler Library, Columbia University, New York NY