第3巻第4章 バートランド・ラッセル平和財団
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v.3,chap.4: Foundation One of the keenest pleasures of these years has been my friendship, a friendship in which my wife shared, with Victor Purcell, and one of the losses over which I most grieve is his death in January, 1965.He was a man of humour and balanced judgement. He had both literary appreciation and attainment, and very considerable learning as well as great knowledge of the present-day scene. He had achieved much both as a Government administrator in South East Asia and as a Don at Cambridge. His talk was a delight to me. For many years I had known him through his political writings which he used to send to me from time to time and about which I would write to him. A little later I rejoiced in his witty verses written under the pseudonym of Myra Buttle (a pun for My Rebuttal). I had never met him till he spoke at the birthday party given for me at the Festival Hall in 1962. I did not even begin to know him till he was drawn into discussions with us about the Foundation's doings in relation to South East Asia. He spoke at a meeting at Manchester in April, 1964, under the auspices of the Foundation at which I spoke also, and, soon afterwards, he did an admirable pamphlet for us surveying 'The Possibility of Peace in South East Asia'. During this time we saw something of him in London, but it was not untill May, 1964, that we really came to know each other when he paid us a short visit in North Wales. We talked endlessly. We capped each other's stories and quotations, and recited our favourite poems and prose to each other. We probed each other's knowledge especially of history, and discussed serious problems. Moreover, it was a comfort to find someone who understood at once what one was driving at and, even when not entirely in agreement, was willing to discuss whatever the subject might be with tolerance and sympathy. He came again to visit us in December, little more than a fortnight before his death, aud suddenly we felt, as he said, that we were old friends, though we had seen each other so little. I remember, especially, about this last visit, his suddenly bursting into a recitation of Lycidas, most beautifully given, and again, reading his latest work by Myra Buttle, singing those lines parodied from song. He was a brave and thoughtful, a compassionate and boisterous man. It startles me sometimes when I realise how much I miss him, not only for the enjoyment but for the help that he could and, I feel sure, would have given me. It is seldom, I think that one of my age makes a new friend so satisfying and so treasured, and astonishing that all this affection and trust and understanding should have grown up in so short a time. |
(掲載日:2010.6.2/再掲:2012.8.19)