That's a beautiful line.

My wife, who has lately become even more appreciative of Tolkien than I have, read your remarks with special interest and excitement, saying she had arrived at many of the same conclusions that you have.

I'm starting to see Tolkien in much the same way I view Evelyn Waugh. I recognize the fierce talent and insight, but I am suspicious of the nostalgia for a simpler, quieter time. Except for the (relatively brief) horrors of trench warfare, Tolkein still lived the sheltered life of an Oxford Don, lost in his ancient languages and his alternate universe and imaginary history. By the time Tolkien was born the Industrial Revolution had been blighting the English Landscape for almost a century, and Britain's idyllic pastoral past was more carefully reconstructed myth than remembered history.