March 28, 1949

Dear Solovine,

I was deeply moved by your affectionate letter, which contrasts so sharply with the countless other letters that have reached me on this unhappy occasion. You imagine that I regard my life’s work with calm satisfaction. But a close look yields a completely different picture. I am not convinced of the certainty of a simple concept, and I am uncertain as to whether I was even on the right track. In me my contemporaries see both a heretic and reactionary who has, so to speak, survived himself. That, to be sure, is a matter of fashion and short-sightedness, but the feeling of inadequacy comes from within. Well, it can not be otherwise when one has a critical mind and is honest, and mood and modesty keep us in balance in spite of external influences.

God knows how right you are in everything you say about human experience. But whatever is done justly cannot be done otherwise. What is most grievous is the social drama which is being played on the world stage. This domination of blind impulses. America, England, Russia and the smaller ones—may the devil take them, and he will.

The best that remains are some upright friends whose heads and hearts are in the right place and who understand each other, as we two do.

I am curious about the material you have assembled on Heraclitus. I think that he was a stubborn, melancholy man. It is a pity that these gigantic individuals can be seen only through a thick fog.

My very best, to you and your wife.

Yours,      

A. Einstein