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the hidden fears of eminent men.The writing of these stories was a great release of my hitherto unexpressedfeelings and of thoughts which could not be stated without mention of fearsthat had no rational basis. Gradually their scope widened. I found it possibleto express in this ?ctional form dangers that would have been deemed sillywhile only a few men recognised them. I could state in ?ction ideas whichI half believed in but had no good solid grounds for believing. In this wayit was possible to warn of dangers which might or might not occur in thenear future.My ?rst book of stories was Satan in the Suburbs. The title story was in partsuggested to me by a stranger whom I met in Mortlake and who, when hesaw me, crossed the road and made the sign of the Cross as he went. It waspartly, also, suggested by a poor mad lady who I used to meet on my walks. Inthis story there was a wicked scientist who by subtle means caused people,after one lapse from virtue, to plunge into irretrievable ruin. One of thesepeople was a photographer who made photography an opportunity forblackmail. I modelled him upon a fashionable photographer who had cometo make a picture of me. He died shortly afterwards, and I then learnt that hepractised all the sins of which I had accused him in the story. In one of theother stories, the hero proclaims a curse in which he mentions Zoroaster andthe Beard of The Prophet. I got an indignant letter from a Zoroastrian sayinghow dare I make fun of Zoroaster. This story I had written, as a warning ofwhat might befall her, for my secretary (a completely innocent youngwoman) who was about to go to Corsica on a holiday. It was publishedanonymously in a magazine with a prize o?ered for guessing the authorship.Nobody guessed right. One of the characters in the story is General Prz towhose name there is a footnote saying, ‘pronounced Pish’, and the prize wasgiven to a man who wrote to the magazine: ‘This is Trz (pronounced Tosh).’Another story portrayed a ?ght to the death between human beings andMartians. In this there is an eloquent appeal in the style of Churchill, callingupon all human beings to forget their di?erences and rise in defence of ???.I had great fun proclaiming this speech, as nearly as possible in Churchill’smanner, for a gramophone record.A year later, I wrote another series of stories which I called Nightmares ofthe autobiography of bertrand russell 506Eminent Persons. These were intended to illustrate the secret fears that beset theGreat while they sleep. A long short story that I published with Nightmares iscalled ‘Zahatopolk’ and concerns the hardening of what begins as a career offreedom of thought in to a hard persecuting orthodoxy. This has hithertobeen the fate of all the great religions; and how it is to be avoided in thefuture I do not know. When my secretary was typing the story she reachedthe point where the semi-divine king makes a sacri?cial breakfast of a lovelylady. I went in to see how she was getting on and found her gibbering interror. Various people have dramatised this story both for ?lm and theatreproduction, as they have others that occur in my writings, but, when it hascome to the point, no one has been willing to produce them or I have beenunwilling to have them produced because of the particular dramatisation,sometimes o?ensively frivolous. I regret this and regret especially that noneof the Nightmares have been made into ballets. Various of the stories pose, andoccasionally answer, various questions that I should like to call to people’sattention.I had an amusing experience with one of the Nightmares while I was com-posing it. The hero was a Frenchman who lamented his sad fate in Frenchverse. One evening at dinner in the Ecu de France I started to declaim his lastwords in what I hoped was the best French classical style. The restaurant,being French, had a clientele mainly composed of Frenchmen. Most of themturned round and gazed at me in astonishment, then whispered together,wondering whether I was an unknown French poet whom they had hit uponby accident. I do not know how long they went on wondering.Another Nightmare was inspired by a psycho-analytic doctor in Americawho was somewhat dissatis?ed by the use commonly made of psycho-analysis. He felt that everyone might be brought to humdrum normality, soI tried portraying Shakespeare’s more interesting heroes after they hadundergone a course of psycho-analysis. In the dream, a head of Shakespearespeaks, ending with the words, ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be.’ I had anapproving letter from the American doctor.I found a reluctance on the part of both editors and readers to accept me inthe role of a writer of ?ction. They seemed, just on the face of it, to resent thefact that I was trying my hand at something they had not grown used to mydoing. Everybody wanted me to continue as a writer of doom, prophesyingdreadful things. I was reminded of what the learned men of China said whenI asked what I should lecture on and they replied: ‘Oh, just what you say inyour last book.’ Authors are not allowed by their public to change their styleor to part widely from their previous subjects.My defence for writing stories, if defence were needed, is that I have oftenfound fables the best way of making a point. When I returned from Americain 1944, I found British philosophy in a very odd state, and, it seemed to me,return to england 507occupied solely with trivialities. Everybody in the philosophical world wasbabbling about ‘common usage’. I did not like this philosophy. Every sectionof learning has its own vocabulary and I did not see why philosophy shouldbe deprived of this pleasure. I therefore wrote a short piece containing vari-ous fables making fun of this cult of ‘common usage’, remarking that whatthe philosophers really meant by the term was ‘common-room usage’. Ireceived a letter when this was published from the arch o?ender saying thathe approved, but that he could not think against whom it was directed as heknew of no such cult. However, I noticed that from that time on very littlewas said about ‘common usage’.Most of my books, I ?nd on looking back over them, have myths to enforcethe points. For instance, I turned up the following paragraph recently in TheImpact of Science on Society: ‘What I do want to stress is that the kind of lethargicdespair which is now not uncommon is irrational. Mankind is in the positionof a man climbing a di?cult and dangerous precipice, at the summit ofwhich there is a plateau of delicious mountain meadows. With every stepthat he climbs, his fall, if he does fall, becomes more terrible; with every stephis weariness increases and the ascent grows more di?cult. At last, there isonly one more step to be taken, but the climber does not know this, becausehe cannot see beyond the jutting rocks at his head. His exhaustion is socomplete that he wants nothing but rest. If he lets go, he will ?nd rest indeath. Hope calls: “one more e?ort – perhaps it will be the last e?ortneeded.” Irony retorts: “Silly fellow! Haven’t you been listening to hope allthis time, and see where it has landed you.” Optimism says: “While there islife, there is hope.” Pessimism growls: “While there is life, there is pain.”Does the exhausted climber make one more e?ort, or does he let himselfsink into the abyss? In a few years, those of us who are still alive will knowthe answer.’Others of my stories, nightmares and dreams and so forth, later formed the?ction part of my book Fact and Fiction. I had expected reviewers to makewitticisms at my expense in regard to the title and contents of this book, butthis did not occur. My ‘Maxims of La Rochefoucauld’ contained in it a?ordedme considerable amusement and I have added to them periodically. Themaking of my Good Citizens’ Alphabet entertained me greatly. It was published attheir Gabberbochus (which, I am told, is Polish for Jabberwocky) Press by myfriends the Themersons with exceedingly clever and beautifully executedillustrations by Franciszka Themerson which heighten all the points that Imost wanted made. They also published my jeu d’esprit on the end of theworld, a short History of the World, for my ninetieth birthday in a little goldvolume. My only venture into verse was published by the Humanists ofAmerica and is called – with apologies of Lewis Carroll – ‘The Prelate and TheCommissar’.the autobiography of bertrand russell 508LETTERSTo and from Lucy Donnelly212 Loring AvenueLos Angeles, Cal.Dec. 22, 1939My dear LucyEver since I got your nice letter I have been meaning to write to you, buthave been terribly busy. It is the custom of this country to keep all intelligentpeople so harassed & hustled that they cease to be intelligent, and I have beensu?ering from this custom. The summer at Santa Barbara, it is true, waspeaceful, but unluckily I injured my back & was laid up for a long time,which caused me to get behind hand with my lectures. – John & Kate, whocame for the summer holidays, stayed when war broke out; it is a comfort tohave them here, but John does not ?nd the university of California a satisfac-tory substitute for Cambridge. I think of sending them both East to some lessrecent university, but last September there was no time for that. Apart fromhome sickness & war misery, we all ?ourish.I am, when I can ?nd time, writing a book on ‘Words & Facts’, or ‘seman-tics’ as it is vulgarly called. The only thing to be done in these times, itseems to me, is to salvage what one can of civilisation, personally as well aspolitically. But I feel rather like a strayed ghost from a dead world.The visit to you was delightful. As time goes on, one values old friendsmore & more.Remember me to Miss Finch. With love to yourself,yours a?Bertrand RussellNew PlaceBryn MawrPennsylvania29 April 1940My dear BertieWeek by week I have sympathised with you & regretted bitterly thatyou have not been allowed to live and work in peace in America. Then,after all the muddlement & disgusting publicity, came your admirableletter in the New York Times – so wise, so right in feeling & so to the pointat the close. Something was needed from you personally in reply to theEditorial distributing blame judiciously all round & very suspiciously avoid-ing the issue. Too bad of the Times: Your article in the American Mercury I alsorejoiced in as just right & very useful. But this cause célèbre which scoresfor academic freedom for our country, I fear will have cost you yourself dearreturn to england 509in many ways & have seriously upset your plans for the next year. I am verysorry.I think of you always & hope to see you when you come to the East again –and perhaps your family with you. They look one & all of them delightful intheir pictures. In these bad times your children must be a joy & hope. Yourletter at Christmas was a happiness to me, when I remember all the peoplein the world to whom you have given happiness & enlightenment I marvelthe more over this last confusion.Ever yours with loveLucy DonnellyP.S. The cutting I enclose from the College News, our student paper, is BrynMawr’s modest testimony to the cause in your name.Fallen Leaf LodgeLake Tahoe, Cal.August 25, 1940My dear LucyPeter is terribly busy, & I have ?nished my book, so I am answering yourvery nice letter to her.We are leaving here in about a fortnight, & expect to get to Philadelphiaabout the 12th of September, except John & Kate, who go back to Los Angeles.I expect to be in Philadelphia only a few days, & then to go to Harvard, butPeter, with Conrad & the governess (Miss Campbell), means to stay somewherenear Philadelphia & hunt for a house. I have accepted the Barnes Institute;there was no other prospect of any post, however humble. No university darecontemplate employing me.You once o?ered to put us up if we were in Philadelphia, & it would bevery pleasant for us if you could have us for a few days from about the 12th,but I don’t know if you have two spare rooms, one for Peter & me & one forConrad and Miss Campbell. Still less do I know whether you would want aboy of three, whose behaviour might not always be impeccable. Please be quitefrank about this.Yes, I know Newman of John’s. I have found him, on occasion, a veryvaluable critic.I am sorry you will have to put up with us as a feeble substitute for theRenoirs. Perhaps in time I shall be able to soften Barnes’s heart.With Peter’s thanks & my love,Yours a?ectionatelyBertrand Russellthe autobiography of bertrand russell 510April 15, 1941My dear LucyI blush with shame in the middle of the night every time I think of myoutrageous behaviour at your dinner, when I deafened you by shouting atyour ear. Please forgive me. Since the New York row I have been prickly,especially when I encounter the facile optimism which won’t realise that, butfor Barnes, it would have meant literal starvation for us all – But that is noexcuse for abominable behaviour. I used, when excited, to calm myself byreciting the three factors of a3+ b3+ c3– 3abc; I must revert to this practice.I ?nd it more e?ective than thoughts of the Ice Age or the goodness of God.Yours a?ectionatelyBertrand RussellPeacock InnTwenty Bayard LanePrinceton, N.J.May 14, 1944My dear LucyThis is a goodbye letter, with great regret that I can’t bid you goodbyein person. After months of waiting, we are being suddenly shipped o? at amoment’s notice – Peter and Conrad are already gone & I go in 2 or 3 days.It was nice being your neighbours, & your house seemed almost a bit ofEngland. Please tell Helen3I am very sorry not to write to her too – & give mylove (or whatever she would like better) to Edith.Ever yours a?B.R.Trinity CollegeCambridgeOct. 7, 1944My dear LucyIt was nice to get your letter written in August. Coming to your housealways seemed almost like coming home; it & its contents, animate &inanimate, were so much more English than one could ?nd elsewhere in ???.D. S. Robertson is a man I know only slightly, but he has a considerablereputation. How Keynes has expanded since he used to come & stay atTilford! Last time I saw him he had an enormous paunch – but this was notthe sort of expansion I had in mind!John is still in London, learning Japanese forms of politeness. One wouldhave thought forms of rudeness more useful. He will go to the East before theend of this year, & probably be there a long time. Kate has been home abouta month. She ended in a blaze of glory, with a $250 prize, an o?er fromreturn to england 511Radcli?e to go on their sta?, & from a Southern University to become aProfessor, though not yet of age. Now the British Government pays her toread Goebbels.The Robot bombs have been trying, & have not quite ceased, but they areno longer very serious. We all ?ourish. Love to Edith. Much love and friend-ship to yourself.Ever yoursBertrand RussellNew PlaceBryn Mawr, Penna.February 20th 45My dear BertieEdith’s great pleasure in your two letters I have shared. I am especially gladthat you thought well of her book – whatever of M.C.T. [M. Carey Thomas]herself. After living under the two presidents who have succeeded at theCollege, I confess that my opinion of her has risen a good deal. The new wayson the Campus make it strange and unheimlich to me. O, for ‘the Culture’ ofthe ’90’s!...The world all round now is a very grim one, as you say, and bitter to thoseof us who once lived in a happier time. Here in America of course we areamong the fortunate ones, well fed, well housed & all the rest, but we do notgrow wiser, more gruesome minded I fear. Everywhere it seems we candepend only on old a?ections and tried loyalties.I turn to you, who have for so long added to my life so much interest andpleasure, & to my happiness in hearing that you are planning to write yourautobiography. You will make a great and important book. I hope from myvery heart that I may live to read it. Your letters of course I will look up andsend along for any help they can give you. Notes & reminders are useful...I have long wanted to write and to hear from you again but seem away hereto have nothing worth saying. Edith and I and other friends of course often talkof you and wish you back. Our neighborhood fell into dullness when you left.We drove out, Edith & I, one day in the autumn in a pietas to Little Datchett,now alas painted up in all colours and newly named ‘Stone Walls’ on a sign atthe gate. But the wide Je?ersonian view was the same and very delightful. Areeither of your elder children still in America? Conrad of course will havegrown beyond my recognition. Will you not send me some word of themand of Peter. I hope that she is better in health and able to get proper food.Even the London where you are living is almost unknown to me, thoughI remember once walking up and down Gloucester Place, looking out thehouse where Lady Louisa Stuart lived in old age: and you must be nearPortman Square and Mrs Montagu’s grand mansion there. The late eighteenththe autobiography of bertrand russell 512Century in England is a safe retreat in these days for one lost in the America ofBob Taft and Henry Wallace and the rest of all you know from the papers.Alas, that Edith and I are too poor to go to England this summer to breatheits air again and to see our friends. How I wish it were not so.A?ectionately yoursLucy DonnellyP.S. Barnes has been as quiet as a mouse these last years.Hotel Bellerive au LacZurichJune 23, 1946My dear LucyThank you for your letter. I had not heard of Simon Flexner’s death, whichis sad. I don’t know Helen’s address; if I did, I would write to her. Will youplease give her my very sincere sympathy, & tell her how greatly I admired& respected Simon.What you say about my History of Philosophy is very pleasant reading.I am glad you like my Chap. on Plotinus, as I rather fancied it myself!I am at the moment doing a short lecture tour in Switzerland; I return toPeter & Conrad in N. Wales in a week for the long vacation, after which I shallbe back in Trinity, where I have been inhabiting Newton’s rooms. I go aboutwith the feeling that within 20 years England will have ceased to exist. Itmakes everything hectic, like the approach of closing time at a party in ahotel – ‘We are for the night.’ A few bombs will destroy all our cities, & therest will slowly die of hunger.In America, large sections of the rural middle west & the desert south-westwill probably survive. But not much of your America. Three cheers forPatagonia, the future centre of world culture.Meanwhile Rabbis & Muftis, Jinnah & Nehru, Tito & the Italians, etc., playtheir silly games. I am ashamed of belonging to the species Homo Sapiens.The Swiss are passionately Anglophile, & very glad to be liberated fromNazi encirclement. I try not to depress them.You & I may be thankful to have lived in happier times – you more thanI, because you have no children.Ever yours a?ectionatelyBertrand Russellreturn to england 513PenralltgochLlan FfestiniogMerionethMarch 17, 1948My dear LucyThank you for your good letter. It was a great pleasure to get it.I enclose a letter to Helen, as I am not sure whether I have decipheredcorrectly the address you gave me. If not, will you please alter it as may benecessary. I have started on my autobiography, & ?nd it an immense task. Ishall be in?nitely grateful for your batch of letters. It doesn’t matter whetheryou send them to above address or to London.My daughter Kate has just married an American named Charles Tait. She stilllives in Cambridge Mass. I don’t know him, but all I hear of him sounds nice.I am terribly busy with international a?airs, & have not time to writeproper letters. Give nice messages to Edith. With love,Yours a?B.R.New PlaceBryn Mawr CollegeBryn MawrPennsylvaniaMay 8, 1948My dear BertieI am sorry to have been so long in complying with any request of yours.This has been a bad and busy year here in Bryn Mawr and though I keep verywell for my age, I am so easily tired and do everything so slowly, I accomplishlittle in a day.In a word, I have only been able in the last fortnight to go through thepapers & letters stored in the attic. The task was formidable and painful aswell as happy. Many letters from you I found, dating from 1902 on, and haveput aside to send you if you still want them. From your letter some time ago,I was uncertain whether you ask for all letters, or particularly for the onewritten to Helen on the last day of the Nineteenth Century.All that you wrote to me I seem to have treasured down to the merestnotes. They are wonderfully friendly, wise, kind letters, sympathetic almostbeyond belief with my personal concerns and small Bryn Mawr a?airs, whilebringing in an invigorating breath from a larger freer world. I well rememberthe vivid pleasure of their coming, one after another, and the strength &interest they were to me. – A lifetime of gratitude I send back to you forthem. – Whether they would be useful to you I cannot tell, possibly for dates,plans places & whatnot, and as a record of your own friendliness. Yourthe autobiography of bertrand russell 514memory is extraordinarily good & you have written so much that is wise &witty & important. Will you say whether you want the packet, & they reallyshall go o? to you at once. In that case I should like to have them back whenyou are done with the letters. They are a precious record of a long friendshipto me, though as I understand, your property...All is well I hope with you, as well as may be with the world in desperateconfusion. Here we are in the midst of strikes, Presidential primaries, indeci-sions about Palestine, [indecipherable] bills & all that you can guess.Edith asks me to give you her love with mine & all good wishes for theSummer. We plan to go to Canada,4the nearest we are able to get to theBritish ?ag.A?ectionately yoursLucyFrom the 12th Duke of BedfordFrox?eld HouseWoburnBletchleyApril 16th. 1945Dear Lord RussellMany thanks for your kind letter. I should have been very pleased foryou to see Woburn but unluckily the abbey is infested by a government WarDepartment of a very ‘hush-hush’ description and I am not allowed to enterthe sacred precincts myself without a permit & suitable escort! Most of thepictures etc. are stored away, so I am afraid you will have to postpone yourvisit until the brief interlude between this war & world-war no. 3. – if thereis an interlude!! I am so sorry.Yours sincerelyBedfordFrom H. G. Wells13, Hanover TerraceRegent’s Park, N.W.1May. 20th ’45My dear RussellI was delighted to get your friendly letter. In these days of revolutionarycrisis it is incumbent upon all of us who are in any measure in?uential in leftthought to dispel the tendency to waste energy in minor dissentions & par-ticularly to counter the systematic & ingenious work that is being done to sabotageleft thought under the cloak of critical reasonableness. I get a vast amount ofthat sort of propaganda in my letter box. I get more & more anarchistic &return to england 515ultra left as I grow older. I enclose a little article ‘Orders is Orders’ that theNew Leader has had the guts, rather squeamish guts, to print at last. What do