There was a ripe, autumnal beauty in your farewell letter from Wayne. It would have made me very sad if I had not known that distance is pretty much a bluff, and that you will experience a new springtime in your new home. There will be so many fine things to do; and as soon as that enthusiasm of yours gets stirred up, everything will be all right again. How fine to leave a place, after twelve years, with such genuine approval! I'm so eager to hear all about the new college and your plans. You can't write much until after things get going, I know; but it will be great to hear just as soon as you have time to write.
Little by little the details of the great day at Wayne have been coming in, and we have a pretty vivid picture of the whole thing now. Your letter added much, and yesterday we received the large photo of the monument. With a reading glass I could make out the whole inscription, which the papers I have seen did not give in full. The wording is august, worthy of bronze. The whole affair seems incredible, almost.
I'm glad you and Judge had a chance to get acquainted. And it's fine to know that you do like each other. Judge was deeply impressed, and he rather outraged his Scotchiness in expressing what he felt about you. Of course it would be fine if he were right about the new book; but I'm not convinced. I do believe that there is a key idea in the little book, but I'd rather have written the WARS, if I were forced to choose. And I'd rather write the MESSIAH than any prose book. I could write
When you read POETIC VALUES, I want your honest-to-goodness opinion. You wouldn't say what you didn't believe, but you might say less. The get-up of the book will be pleasing. Macmillans have sent me sample pages. It will be an odd size, larger than a 12mo and squareish, with a liberal page. There should be around 150 pages. The Judge has not heard any of the book, and he may be disappointed. Still, in some recent letters I was called upon to make some comments on Schweitzer's Civilization and Ethics, that the Judge loaned me, and he was all for what I had to say; so it is possible that he may not be disappointed. Then, too, we've had a number of nights together at his flat, and I've always turned loose on him and he on me. He tries to believe that he is a materialist, and he isn't by about seventeen light years! I'm a materialist too, for that matter; but I'm more, a whole lot more. I'm a synthetic realist, I guess. But I don't think the name matters much. The fact behind the name matters tremendously. I'm a poet, and I have no notion of being or seeming anything else. Certainly I don't want to monkey with formal philosophy. On occasion, I'll fight for our values, as I can; and that is all I've done in the new book.
Mama seems a bit dazed yet. it has been a glorious dream to her. I can't tell you how glad I am that she was there. The whole thing worked out just right. Such poetic justice seldom comes to mothers; and there are many mothers who have as much trouble to remember as mama has. I don't see how life can hurt her much hereafter.
I do love you, Comrade.
Jno.
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-J
