No indeed, I am not wise, if by wisdom is meant the ability to be happy. Many readers of my daily stuff, and especially when I "let loose", seem to think that I do see causes and relations with more than the usual clarity. Also, I feel things that prove to be true, and in my journalism I have been several years ahead - in some cases fifteen - of the next swerving of the current. If this constitutes wisdom, I may have some. But I doubt the practical value of understanding basic things in a civilization like ours; for one who understands at all must feel practically convinced that, in the long run, terrible catastrophe is the price. My little article was not on life. It's title, as I remember, reads "Is the Truth Bitter?" I know that the truth, which is a matter of just relations as determined by human experiece, is not in itself bitter. It is beautiful and wonderful and worth suffering to know in any form. But if I were asked if life is bitter, I'd be compelled to say, that if I felt compelled to answer, that life in our industrial society is, for the vast majority, already of no worth, and I believe it will become for the vast majority a positive burden. Increasing activity with decreasing human meaning is the chief characteristic of our society. I am unfortunately placed in a position like this, for a great newspaper, and especially my job on such a paper, is a focussing point for every phrase of the contemporary consciousness, and the impact is terrible. But I love you and some others, and
it is the ample truth that I could love anyone or anythin sincerely if the need for my love should arise.
I'm glad about your magazine. Silence is perhaps the answer that a god would give to all this turmoil and folly; but we are not gods, and the best our writing can do is to act as a cry to forlorn individuals here and there in the growing darkness - "Here too am I - and puzzled and still believing desperately that there are real human values to be cherished even in utter loneliness".
Jno.
All of us were genuinely glad to hear of Mary's happiness. I know her husband must be a man of fine abilities, as this is a matter of common knowledge. That he is also the sort of man you can approve is better still. Don't let the race bother you even subconsciously - that, of course, is nonsense. The difference between the flower of the race and the kike is beyond measure, as I know from meeting both types. What a really stirring and satisfying experience Mary must be having with him in his success! And what grace she can add to his triumphs! She has our most affectionate thoughts.
The Indian Wars was chosen as one of the 500 books for the White House library. The selecting committee was chosen from all parts of the country.
