BR TO GILBERT MURRAY, 18 JUNE 1941
BRACERS 52404. ALS. Murray papers, Bodleian
Edited by W. Bruneau. Proofread by A.G. Bone

Little Datchet Farm,
Malvern R. D. 1.,
Pennsylvania1
18 June 1941

Dear Gilbert

Thank you very much for your letter of 23 April, which reached me safely. I humbly acknowledge my error about quadruplicity! I agree with everything you say in your letter, and particularly with what you say about the “Christian tradition”; I have been feeling the attraction of conservatism myself. There are, however, some things of importance to note. First: the tradition in question is chiefly represented in this country by the Catholic Church, which, here, has none of the culture one associates with that body historically. (On this, Santayana writes convincingly.) The church lost much at the Reformation, more when intellectual France turned free-thinking; it has not now the merits it had. Generally, a conservative institution ceases to be good as soon as it is attacked.

I should regard Socialism in its milder forms as a natural development of the Christian tradition. But Marx belongs with Nietzsche as an apostle of disruption, and unfortunately Marxism won among socialists.

The Romantic Movement is one of the sources of evil; further back, Luther and Henry VIII.

I don’t see much hope in the near future. There must first be a World-State, then an Augustan age, then slow undramatic decay. For a while, the yellow races may put vigour into the Hellenic-Roman tradition; ultimately, something new may come from the negroes. (I should like to think St. Augustine was a negro.)

It seems to me that everything good in Christianity comes from either Plato or the Stoics. The Jews contributed bad history; the Romans, Church Government and Canon Law. I like the Church of England because it is the most purely Platonic form of Christianity. Catholicism is too Roman, Puritanism too Judaic.

Life here, with the job I have, would be very pleasant if there were no war. The country is like inland Dorsetshire; our house is 200 years old, built by a Welshman. My work is interesting, and moderate in amount. But it all seems unreal. Fierceness surges round, and everybody seems doomed to grow fierce sooner or later. It is hard to feel that anything is worth while, except actual resistance to Hitler, in which I have no chance to take a part. We have English friends who are going back to England, and we envy them, because they are going to something that feels important. I try to think it is worth while to remain civilized, but it seems rather thin. I admire English resistance with all my soul, but hate not to be part of it. Goodbye. Do write again.

Yours ever
Bertrand Russell.

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