Author: David Spiech Page 96 of 283

To John McKinstry Merriam
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Rome. November 15, 1945

My dear Merriam:

Senex ad senem de senectute scribo: yet we are much older than Cicero ever was and also much more recent, so that we have a double chance of being wiser, having more experience of life, individual and collective. And the charm I find in old age—for I was never happier than I am Now—comes of having learned to live in the moment, and thereby in eternity; and this means recovering a perpetual youth, since nothing can be fresher than each day as it dawns and changes. When we have no expectations, the actual is a continual free gift, but much more placidly accepted than it could be when we were children; for then the stage was full of trap doors and unimaginable transformations that kept us always alarmed, eager, and on the point of tears; whereas now we have wept our tears out, we know what can pop up of those trap doors, and what kind of shows those transformations can present; and we remember many of them with affection, and watch the new ones that still come with interest and good will, but without false claims for our own future.

So much for the philosophy of old age. As for current events, state of health or decrepitude, etc., I have little to say. I seem to be perfectly well, but like the One Horse Shay I am undoubtedly a little feeble all over, and less than an atomic bomb, if it struck me, would probably reduce me to a little heap of dust. Meantime I continue to write more or less every day, and have weathered the little discomforts of war and muddled peace without serious trouble. The Sisters here look after me nicely, I have a pleasant corner room with extensive views over green country and mean to remain here for the rest of my days. As to society, I have never received so many visits as the American soldiers in Rome have made me. It has been very pleasant to see so many young faces and to autograph so many books, which is what they usually ask me to do. As to memories of 1886, I have written them out, and need not repeat them, but wish the survivors a happy and peaceful sunset.

Yours sincerely,
G Santayana

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Seven, 1941-1947.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2006.
Location of manuscript: American Antiquarian Society, Worcester MA

To Cyril Coniston Clemens
Hotel Danieli
Venice, Italy. November 14, 1939

As to Florence and Papini, they are not in my line.  You don’t know very much about me. I avoid literary people and Anglo-American centres, like Florence; and I am not “America’s” this or that. I have never been an American citizen, but still travel with a Spanish passport, though I seldom go to Spain, my relations there being all dead as are my best friends in England. Yet I still love them all; and now that my Realms of Being are finished at last, I am turning to writing recollections about them.

Yours sincerely G Santayana

But you are right in feeling that I sympathize with Peacock’s point of view. Yet I didn’t like the one book of his that I have read, except the Latin in it. Witty at times, but fault-finding & inconclusive.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Six, 1937-1940.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2004.
Location of manuscript: William R. Perkins Library, Duke University, Durham NC

To Horace Meyer Kallen
C/o Brown Shipley & Co, London
Cambridge, England. November 13, 1914

I have read your book with interest, in some places with difficulty, in others with chucklings, in still others with lofty satisfaction. You give a clarified idea of James—as it is natural that a disciple should; you make him Christ instead of Jesus. I shouldn’t dispute for a moment that your view of his doctrine and tendency is correct; you seize the ultimate, the latest, the most radical, and interesting phase of his thought; but I can’t help feeling that the James I knew in the flesh was something quite different on the whole—more puzzled, more inconsistent, more infected with überwundenen Standpuncten. I shouldn’t say (though you and he perhaps would) that in reality he was richer. A junkshop isn’t richer than a palace; and what is consistent with one principle, and all in one style, makes to my mind the only true richness of that sort of thing: more, would be matter out of place. If James had been what you give us of him, and no more, I should have understood and liked him better—better as a thinker and even as a man, because his incalculableness and jumpiness sometimes made me uncomfortable.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Two, 1910-1920.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2001.
Location of manuscript: American Jewish Archives, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Cincinnatti OH

To Cyril Coniston Clemens
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Rome. November 12, 1948

Dear Clemens,

Does this suggestion of a Nobel Prize come from you or from some American source, or does it possibly come from Sweden, where a version of my “Idea of Christ in the Gospels” has appeared recently in a very appropriate form? This would make a great difference in my feelings about the proposal; but in either case there are obstacles to such an award (besides the improbability of it) that I think are insuperable.

1. I am not able to travel to Sweden or to make a public appearance there.
2. I am not, as is often supposed, an American citizen, yet cannot be classed as a Spanish author, since I write only in English.
3. I have no need of the prize; but perhaps the money could be diverted by the Swedish authorities to some worthier object.
4. In what science or art could I be said to have accomplished anything? Literature? Philosophy? It is doubtful.

Therefore I beg you, if the idea is yours, to drop it at once, and not to undertake anything of this kind in my favour. I might seem bound to express overwhelming gratitude for your interest, but I do not feel that it is interest in anything that I care for. It is your love of action.

Yours sincerely,
G Santayana

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Eight, 1948-1952.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2008.
Location of manuscript: William R. Perkins Library, Duke University, Durham NC

To Carlotta Russell Lowell
King’s College
Cambridge, England. November 11, 1896

Many thanks for both your notes. When I got the first I never expected a second, as it is the part of prudence to thank an author for his book before reading it, so as to avoid the necessity of lying about it afterwards. That you should have written both before and after is very gratifying, as it seems to mean that you liked the book better than you expected, and at any rate well enough to say something nice about it when this was no longer necessary. I am delighted that you found most of the book intelligible and interesting, and that you agreed with most of it. That is all I can now say for it myself, as there are already several things I should like to see put otherwise in it.

My life here is very pleasant and interesting, and perhaps a little luxurious. I try to chasten myself, however, with some tough Greek—the Parmenides and Philebus of Plato, which I am reading carefully—and with long walks among the clouds, which in this country come down to the surface of the land and especially of the water. The afternoons are very lovely, and the river with its many boats, blazers, bicycles, and coaches on horseback is a gay and pretty sight. My friends at King’s have the flavour of their Port, sweet, mellow, and with lots of body, and it will be hard not to get so fond of them as to miss them when I go. . . .

Haven’t the Russells turned up? I should have been glad to have you meet, they are such nice people. He is mathematical and she humanitarian, but both are human at the same time.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book One, [1868]-1909.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2001.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA