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New York Address: Hotel St. Andrews, Corner
Broadway and 72nd Street— N.Y. West1
On Board The Cunard
R.M.S. Andania2
September 27, 1926
Dear Professor,
Our ship is also stopping in Halifax—I would never have thought that I would ever learn anything about this city other than that there are ice skates by that name—, and that is the occasion to write you a letter somewhat earlier than I thought.
Your letter made me and my wife very happy—the latter is especially grateful for Frau Professor's kind message, and will reply to it from New York as soon as possible.
Here, on board the—not very big, but tidy and quietly running ship, I am reminded every step of the way of our Argonaut journey back then.3 [That is the way I will also refer to it in my first lecture, with an allusion to how little gold there was in the fleece4 for us at the time.]5 Wonderful images emerge for me—the sunny days on board, the interesting conversations with you, the expectation of something unknown—, along with that, also reminiscences of deeply sad moments (which I kept secret at the time), in which I had to struggle with my—infantile—jealousy (on account of Jung). What all has not taken place since that time. How many have been exalted in the meantime, and how many, by their own fault—humbled.6 It is thus a joy to sense that this long—long time has passed for both of us without anything seriously disturbing having ever come up in our personal and scientific relations. So, one can say, after all, that it will remain so between us. Naturally, at the same time I must also think about the great illness that you went through in the meantime, and rejoice in its fortunate, albeit not always pleasant, outcome.
Now, back to the present. The stay in Baden-Baden was, as always, a