the proceedings, and, especially, the warm friendliness that I felt in the
audience as well as in the actors, I still, and always shall, treasure. At the time I
was so deeply moved that I felt I could not utter a word, much less ?nd words
that might express my feeling of gratitude and of what the occasion meant to
me. But, mercifully, words came. I do not think that I can say again so freshly
or with such entire, unconsidered sincerity what I felt then, so I give my
speech itself, taking it from the recording:
‘Friends,
‘This is an occasion that I hardly know how to ?nd words for. I am more
touched than I can say, and more deeply than I can ever hope to express. I
have to give my very warmest possible thanks to those who have worked to
produce this occasion: to the performers, whose exquisite music, exquisitely
performed, was so full of delight; to those who worked in less conspicuous
ways, like my friend Mr Schoenman; and to all those who have given me gifts
– gifts which are valuable in themselves, and also as expressions of an
undying hope for this dangerous world.
‘I have a very simple creed: that life and joy and beauty are better than
dusty death, and I think when we listen to such music as we heard today we
must all of us feel that the capacity to produce such music, and the capacity to
hear such music, is a thing worth preserving and should not be thrown away
in foolish squabbles. You may say it’s a simple creed, but I think everything
important is very simple indeed. I’ve found that creed su?cient, and I should
think that a great many of you would also ?nd it su?cient, or else you would
hardly be here.
‘But now I just want to say how it’s di?cult, when one has embarked upon
trafalgar square 595a course which invites a greater or less degree of persecution and obloquy
and abuse, to ?nd instead that one is welcomed as I have been today. It makes
one feel rather humble, and I feel I must try to live up to the feelings that have
produced this occasion. I hope I shall; and I thank you from the bottom of my
heart.’
The last formal celebration of my birthday took place the following week
when Fenner Brockway most kindly invited me to a luncheon in my honour
at the House of Commons. I was somewhat nervous of this as it seemed
unlikely to me that any Members of either House would turn up to do me
honour. My tension mounted as we waited in an anteroom to be led to the
Harcourt Room where the banquet was to take place and, again, stood at the
door rather wistfully watching the Members fortify themselves with pre-
prandial drinks. But, when the party began, it was pleasant and friendly, and I
thought it generous of many of those present to be there. I had not for some
time been pulling my punches in regard to the activities of politicians, nor, I
fear, did I on this occasion, seeing a chance and, indeed, an obligation, to
speak to them direct.
When all this pleasant fuss to do with my becoming a nonagenarian had
passed, we retired to Wales, returning to London only for a few days in July
for the purpose of talking with U Thant about international nuclear and
disarmament policies. This was the ?rst time that I had met him and I was
greatly impressed not only by his energy and clear grasp of a?airs, but by his
balanced objectivity and thoughtfulness and his delightful good humour. At
this time, too, I paid my ?rst visit to Woburn Abbey. I found the grandeurs of
the house very pleasing and the lovely serenity of the Park, with its great trees
sheltering Father David’s deer and its wide quiet stretches of green turf, very
calming.
The last months of that year were taken up with the Cuban crisis and then
with the Sino-Indian Border dispute. Early in December, Penguin accepted
my o?er to write my account of these two happenings which I did in January.
It was published by Penguin and Allen & Unwin in April under the title
Unarmed Victory. I have told in it all there is to tell of any interest about my
thought and action at that time, and I do not propose to repeat it all here.
Perhaps I should add, however, that I regret nothing that I did at that time in
relation to these two crises. My point of view upon them, in spite of further
study, remains the same. I will give my critics only this olive branch: I am
sorry that I did not couch my telegram of October 23rd to President Kennedy
more gently. Its directness made it unlikely to cut much ice, I agree. But I had
as little hope then as I should have in similar circumstances now of wise and
quick withdrawal on the part of the ?? Government.
I had become so tried by the folly of some of the leading members of
the Committee of 100 during the events of September and by the growing
the autobiography of bertrand russell 596dissipation of the Committee’s policies that, early in January, I resigned from
the Main Committee in London. I did not wish, however, to go into these
reasons in my public resignation. I based it upon the equally valid and con-
clusive reason that my increasing absences in Wales prevented me from par-
ticipating usefully in the work of the Main Committee. I still have great
sympathy with the early aims and actions of the Committee, and I should
support any recrudescence of them if they seemed to me to stand any chance
of success. Mass civil disobedience still seems to me one of the most e?ective
ways of attacking present international policies which remain as bad as they
were then, if not worse.
The British Government, meanwhile, had its own plans for what to do in
the event of nuclear war. What these plans were we learned, in part, from an
organisation which called itself ‘Spies for Peace’. This organisation had suc-
ceeded in ascertaining the secret plans of Authority to be put into force on
the outbreak of war. Britain was to be divided into a number of regions, each
with its own government, each with autocratic power, each composed of a
pre-arranged corps of o?cials who were to live in supposed safety in under-
ground ‘Regional Seats of Government’ and decide (so far as the enemy
allowed) what was to become of the rest of us, and, in particular, what was to
be done about fall-out if and while we remained alive. It was feared that
possibly the prospect of such measures might not please the populace, and
must therefore be kept secret. ‘Spies for Peace’ had discovered some of the
documents involved, and were anxious to publish them. They had no funds,
and appealed to me. I gave them ￡50 with my blessing. As soon as possible
the documents were published, and copies were distributed among the
Aldermaston marchers.
Unfortunately (as I felt) the leaders of ??? were shocked that secret
methods should be employed by paci?sts. They did what they could to
impede the spread of knowledge which the ‘Spies’ had sought to secure. A
fresh batch of documents which they had secured was taken to the editor of a
leading paci?st journal under the impression that he would publicise their
information. But he, horri?ed by the disclosures and the retribution their
publication would undoubtedly call down, sent the documents to the mother
of one of the ‘Spies’ and she, fearing a police raid, burnt them. So died our
hope of learning Government plans for governmental salvation and the suc-
cour of such members of the public as might be allowed to live. This bitter
blow to the clari?cation of our position and to a great impetus to work for
peace was dealt by well-meaning and not unknowledgeable paci?sts.
trafalgar square 597LETTERS
To and from Ernest Jones
Plas Penrhyn
2 February, 1957
Dear Dr Jones
I enclose a copy of a letter from an eminent Anglican divine. It seems to me
a document worthy to go into your case-book. I should be very grateful if
you felt inclined to send me any comments on it.
Yours sincerely
Russell
The following is the letter I sent to Dr Jones (without the Bishop’s address or signature):
From the Bishop of Rochester
Personal
Bishopscourt
Rochester
Jan: 29. 1957
Dear Lord Russell
It has been laid upon my conscience to write to you, after your article in
the Sunday Times on the ‘Great Mystery’ of survival after death; seeing that you
at 84 stand yourself upon that threshold.
Your contemporaries, like myself, acclaim you the greatest brain of our
generation. And many must believe, with me, that if only your moral stature
had matched your intellectual power and other singular endowments, you
could have saved us from a second World War. Instead, in your book on
Companionate Marriage, Marriage and Morals (1929), the cloven hoof of the
lecher cannot be disguised; and it is lechery that has been your Achilles heel,
blinding your great mind from discerning that in?nitely greater Mind behind
all phenomena, such as has formed your enthralling study. Only the pure
in heart can see God; and four wives, with three divorces, must be an awful
and bitter humiliation, showing the man himself, entrusted with such a
magni?cent brain.
Moreover, I cannot but believe that you must at times be haunted by the
remembrances of the murder, suicide, and untold misery, between the wars,
caused by the experiments of young people with Companionate Marriage, of
which you were the Apostle, with all the immense authority of your fame. I
am an old man myself of 72, but with no outstanding gifts or learning; and
yet I would, in humble sincerity, make my own, to you, what that Dr M. J.
Routh, who died in his hundredth year as President of Magdalen, Oxford,
(1854), wrote to a Quaker acquaintance in the condemned cell:
the autobiography of bertrand russell 598‘Sir, this comes from one who, like yourself, has not long to live, being in
his ninetieth year. He has had more opportunity than most for distinctly
knowing that the scriptures of the New Testament were written by the Apos-
tles of the Saviour of mankind. In these Scriptures it is expressly said that the
blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin, and that if we confess our sins,
God, being merciful and just, will forgive us our sins on our repentance.
Think, say, and do everything in your power to save your soul, before you go
into another life.’
You may know that the great Bishop Joseph Butler of Durham, your peer as
regards intellect, died with this verse from I John, I. 7, in his ears, and
whispering: ‘Oh! but this is comfortable.’
I pray God that you will recognise that, for some reason, I have been ?lled
with a deep concern for you.
Yours sincerely
Christopher Ro?en
The Plat, Elsted
Nr. Midhurst, Sx.
Feb. 4, 1957
Dear Russell
I am a little surprised that you should ?nd the Anglican’s letter at all odd. I
should have thought you received many such, and indeed I even wonder how
many masses are already being said for your soul.
The interest of such letters is of course the calm identi?cation of wicked-
ness with sexual activity. Freud used to think that the main function of
religion was to check man’s innate aggressivity (the obvious source of all
wickedness), but it is curious how often religious teachers bring it back again
to sexuality. That makes one think there must be some deep connection
between the two, and we believe nowadays that much aggressivity, possibly
all, can ultimately be traced to the innumerable forms of sexual frustration. It
remains noteworthy, however, that you, our leading apostle of true morality
(love, charity, tolerance, etc.) should be cast into perdition for not accepting
the Catholic view of marriage.
If you want a psycho-analytic comment on the letter there is a clue in the
omnipotence he attributes to you (ability to stop wars, etc.). That can only
point to a gigantic father ?gure (an earthly God), whose only sin, much
resented by the son, was his sleeping with the mother. It is curious that such
people are never shocked at God’s adulterous behaviour with the Virgin
Mary. It needs a lot of puri?cation.
yours sincerely
Ernest Jones
trafalgar square 599Plas Penrhyn
14 March, 1957
Dear Jones
Thank you for your very pleasant letter of February 4. Ever since I got it, I
have been luxuriating in the pleasure of seeing myself as a formidable father-
?gure inspiring terror in the Anglican hierarchy. What surprised me about
the letter I sent you was that I had imagined eminent Anglican Divines to be
usually fairly civilised people. I get hundreds of letters very similar to the one
I sent you, but they are generally from people with very little education. I
cannot make up my mind whether the writer of the letter is gnawed with
remorse for the sins he has committed or ?lled with regret for those that he
has not committed.
Yours sincerely
Russell
From and to Lord Russell of Liverpool
Old Warren Farm
Wimbledon Common
S.W.19
13/2[1959]
Dear Lord Russell
I am forwarding the enclosed as Monsieur Edmond Paris, and he is not
alone, has got us mixed up. The ?rst paragraph of his letter refers to you. The
others are for me and I shall be replying to them. Would you please return the
letter when you have read it.
Ys. truly
Russell of Liverpool
Plas Penrhyn
18 February, 1959
Dear Lord Russell
Thank you for your letter and for the enclosure which I return herewith. I
have been wondering whether there is any means of preventing the confu-
sion between you and me, and I half-thought that we might write a joint
letter to The Times in the following terms: Sir, To prevent the continuation of
confusions which frequently occur, we beg to state that neither of us is the
other. Do you think this would be a good plan?
Yours sincerely
Russell
the autobiography of bertrand russell 600Old Warren Farm
Wimbledon Common
S.W.19
20/2[1959]
Dear Lord Russell
Many thanks for your letter of the 18th.
I am not sure whether you are in earnest or joking about a joint letter to
The Times but, in either event, I think it is a good idea. Even were it not
e?ective it would provide a little light amusement, and if you would care to
write such a letter I would gladly add my signature below yours.
Incidentally, à propos this subject, you will ?nd pages 61/2 of a book of my
reminiscences to be published on March 19 by Cassell & Co. under the title of
That Reminds Me of some interest. They contain details of two occasions on
which I was mistaken for an Earl Russell. Your elder brother in India in 1927
and yourself in 1954.
Page 60 will also interest you.
Yours sincerely
Russell of Liverpool
Plas Penrhyn
23 February 1959
Dear Lord Russell of Liverpool
Thank you for your letter of February 20. I was both serious and joking in
my suggestion of a joint letter. I enclose a draft which I have signed, but I am
entirely willing to alter the wording if you think it too frivolous. I think,
however, that the present wording is more likely to secure attention than a
more solemn statement.
Yours sincerely
Russell
Plas Penrhyn
23 February, 1959
To the Editor of The Times
Sir
In order to discourage confusions which have been constantly occurring,
we beg herewith to state that neither of us is the other.
Yours etc.
Russell of Liverpool
(Lord Russell of Liverpool)
Russell
(Bertrand, Earl Russell)
trafalgar square 601Old Warren Farm
Wimbledon Common
S.W.19
25/2/59
Dear Lord Russell
I have forwarded our letter to The Times but I have asked them, of course, to
put your name before mine.
I like the wording immensely.
Russell of Liverpool
To and from A. J. Ayer
Plas Penhryn
19 January, 1957
Dear Ayer
I have just ?nished reading your Problem of Knowledge. I have read the book
with a great deal of pleasure and I agree with most of it. I like your way of
dissecting problems; for example, what you say on such subjects as tele-
vision and precognition seems to me to combine logic and sound sense in
just proportion. The only point upon which I seriously disagree with you is
as to perception. My view on this subject, although to scienti?c people it
seems a mere collection of truisms, is rejected as a wild paradox by philo-
sophers of all schools. You need not, therefore, be in any degree disquieted
by not having my support. I will, however, make one point: on page 126
you say that from the fact that the perceived qualities of physical objects are
causally dependent upon the state of the percipient, it does not follow that
the object does not really have them. This, of course, is true. What does
follow is that there is no reason to think that it has them. From the fact
that when I wear blue spectacles, things look blue, it does not follow that
they are not blue, but it does follow that I have no reason to suppose they
are blue.
As I ?nd that philosophers, as opposed to men of science, unanimously
misunderstand my theory of perception, I am enclosing a note on the subject
with no special reference to your book.
Yours very sincerely
Russell
New College
Oxford
26 May 1961
Dear Russell
I have just heard from Routledge that you have withdrawn permission for
your preface to be included in the new translation of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus.
the autobiography of bertrand russell 602The reason why I come in to this is that I am editor of the series in which the
book is to appear.
I assume that you are taking this step because of the di?culties which are
being raised by Ogden’s brother. I do not know what Ogden has told you; but
I do hope that I can persuade you to reconsider your decision. The most
important fact, as I see it, is that this new translation will supersede the old, so
that if your preface is not included in it, it will practically cease to be available.
I think this would be a great pity, as quite apart from the light it throws on
Wittgenstein, it is a very interesting piece of work in itself.
The authors of the new translation, Messrs Pears and McGuinness, tell
me that if there [are] any conditions which you now wish to make before
allowing them to use your preface, they will do their very best to meet them.
I am very sorry to hear that you have been ill and hope that you are now
recovered.
Yours sincerely
Freddie Ayer
Pears and McGuinness say that they have made every e?ort to satisfy Ogden
but have found him quite intractable.
Plas Penrhyn
27 May, 1961
Dear Ayer
Thank you for your letter of May 26. I have never succeeded in understand-
ing the points at issue between Ogden’s brother and your party. I have no
objection in principle to the reprinting of my introduction to the Tractatus. I
was in?uenced by the fact that Wittgenstein and all his followers hated my
introduction and that Wittgenstein only consented to its inclusion because
the publishers made it a condition of their publishing the Tractatus. I did not
know, until I received your letter this morning, that there was anyone who
thought that my introduction had any value. Since you think that it has, I am
quite willing again to grant permission for its republication. Would you
kindly communicate the substance of this letter to Routledge.
Yours sincerely
Russell
New College
Oxford
31 May 1961
Dear Russell
Thank you very much for allowing us to reprint your Introduction to the
Tractatus. Wittgenstein always complained at being misrepresented by anybody
trafalgar square 603who wrote about him, and his followers simply echo what he said. But I am
sure that your Introduction is an important addition to the work and the new
translators entirely share my view. They were indeed very upset when
they thought they were not going to be allowed to reprint it. With regard
to Ogden’s brother I am in the same position as yourself: I still do not
understand what the substance of his grievance is.
Yours sincerely
Freddie Ayer
From and to Rudolf Carnap
Department of Philosophy
University of California
May 12, 1962
Dear Lord Russell
Throughout my life I have followed with the greatest interest not only
your philosophical work but also, especially during the last years, your polit-
ical activities, and I admire your courage and your intensity of energy and
devotion. Now, on the occasion of your ninetieth birthday, I wish to send
you a message of best wishes and of deep gratitude for all I owe to you. Your
books had indeed a stronger in?uence on my philosophical thinking than
those of any other philosopher. I say more about this in my intellectual
autobiography (in a forthcoming Schilpp-volume on my philosophy), and
especially also about the inspiring e?ect on me of your appeal for a new
method in philosophy, on the last pages of your book Our knowledge of the
external world.
I am in complete agreement with the aims for which you are ?ghting at
present: serious negotiations instead of the cold war, no bomb-testing, no
fallout shelters. But, not having your wonderful power of words, I limit
myself to participation in public appeals and petitions initiated by others and
to some private letters to President Kennedy on these matters. Even such
letters are di?cult for me. By nature I am inclined to turn away from the
insane quarrels of parties and governments, and pursue my thinking in a
purely theoretical ?eld. But at present, when the survival of civilisation is at
stake, I realise that it is necessary at least to take a stand. I also admired your
forceful and convincing argumentation in the debate with Edward Teller
which I saw on television. I ?nd it depressing to see a prominent scientist (in
contrast to politicians from whom one has come to expect nothing better)
strengthening the prejudices of the listeners.
I am going to be 71 on the same day you are having your birthday. May
you have many more active years ahead, in good health, and with the satisfac-
tion of seeing a more rational world order coming into being, to whose
development you have contributed so much. I am going to retire in a few
the autobiography of bertrand russell 604weeks from teaching and to devote myself to the further development of my
theory of inductive probability, on which I have begun to publish in 1950
and which has occupied me ever since.
With deep a?ection and gratitude,
Yours
Rudolf Carnap
Plas Penrhyn
21st June 1962
Dear Professor Carnap
I am immensely grateful to you for your kind letter. It pleased me
greatly. I had not realised that your birthday and mine fall on the same day.
I am sorry not to have sent you my own good wishes, which are sincerely
felt.
I believe that your e?orts to bring clarity and precision to philosophy will
have an everlasting e?ect on the thinking of men, and I am very happy to see
that you will continue your work after your retirement. Nothing would be
more ?tting than that you should successfully realise your theory of inductive
probability. I entirely understand your di?dence with respect to letters to
public o?cials. It is di?cult to employ a language which speaks of intense
and sincere fears for our world to public men who receive our words with
