[No surviving envelope]
Your lovely letter of the 23d arrived on Thursday morning (the 27th) on my return from my 9 a.m. lecture: I had just time to read it once and put it in my inner pocket with my passport to re-read; I should have sat down to answer it at once, but I had to catch the train for New York, and have only got back this (Sunday) evening. I suppose that doesn’t matter, for it will no doubt take me some weeks or months to answer it adequately. Most of your letters are just scraps to feed the famished;1 andHale, Emilyhealth, physical and mental;w6suffers neuritis;a4 then quite unexpectedly I get a letter which (incidentally) makes me quite ashamed of my own capacities for self-expression. And this letter was written in pencil and under the dolorous influence of neuritis, yet was wholly decipherable. I am by the way considerably worried about that neuritis, and wish that you would say more about it: elsePerkins, Edith (EH's aunt);b1 I am likely to telephone to Mrs. Perkins to consult her about it (which I have not yet done).
You must take this letter as only one reply, among future replies. In one aspect, I am the last person to whom you should speak of ‘weaknesses and faults’; in another, the first (forgive my presumption). IHale, EmilyTSE's love for;x2eternally unconditional;c3 mean, first, that you know that I am (I insist) the person who is most certain to condone and explain away everything. But second, I feel that in one way I understand you better than you can understand yourself – not necessarily because your self-understanding is imperfect, but because self-understanding is never the same thing as being understood by someone else: I feel that I understand you well enough (that does not mean perfect understanding) to be sure that nothing that you can henceforth feel or think or do would disturb me, because my understanding will have allowed for that in advance. And to feel in that way about anyone is a glorious liberation; most of our feelings towards people have reservations about their future development or future behaviour. I can feel that my feeling towards Emily has something eternal about it; that it does not depend upon the future Emily (or the future Me); and that I am in consequence leaving Emily free; that I am not trying to impose a future upon her so that she may conform to my ideal; but that I leave her free, impressing upon her only the conviction that she may do or feel just as she likes, without losing anything of what she already has from me. OurBodleian Library, Oxfordintended repository for EH's letters;a1 relations have certainly been peculiar; but however they may be misunderstood by others (atHale, Emilycorrespondence with TSE;w3TSE imagines the unsealing of;e7 least until we have both been dead for fifty years) (and the Bodleian gives up its dead) – I don’t want Emily to misunderstand Me. I can imagine dimly what happens when two people are able to give themselves up to each other. All that I ask is that Emily should allow me to give myself up to her: without any claim, but only with the great gratitude of self-surrender.
I believe that it is right that you should admire those whom you are fondest of ‘so free (you say) from the faults I loathe in myself and others’. If you loathe them in yourself you must loathe them in me. IMaritain, JacquesTSE appreciates his spiritual inferiority to;a8 don’t want to disturb your admiration, I can share it: notde Menasce, JeanTSE admits spiritual inferiority to;a2 I fear towards those who are nearest and dearest to me, but possibly towards Jacques Maritain and Jean de Menasce. IChristianityvirtues heavenly and capital;e1distinguished from purification;e3 am not so much interested in purity as in purification. TheChristianityvirtues heavenly and capital;e1better reached by way of sin;a2 people who mean most to me are not those who are naturally good, but those who strive towards good. I fear that your feelings of failure are relative rather than absolute. IEliot, Henry Ware (TSE's father)religious beliefs;a7 alsoEliot, Charlotte Champe Stearns (TSE's mother)her religious beliefs;a2 have tended to think of my father and mother as absolutes. They were completely virtuous. But something else tells me that Henry Ware Eliot and Charlotte Stearns Eliot had an easier path than their son, who was something more than the son of Henry and Charlotte, who was an Individual, produced in circumstances that they could not have understood. IChristianitysins, vices, faults;d5;a6 have sinned, by my own fault, my own most grievous fault;2 but I have sinned as myself. What do Henry and Charlotte Eliot know about my temptation? Nothing. All these persons ‘pure and unsullied’3 with whom you compare yourself have lived among very different circumstances than Emily Hale. They have had their trials, but not the same trials. OneChristianityvirtues heavenly and capital;e1danger of pride in;c3 can be too proud even in one’s humility: it is not our business to conform to the standards even of our parents, but of the standards which we must make for ourselves, traditional standards; and in one’s own circumstances one must violate the standards of one’s parents in order to observe the true tradition.
I think that we feel very similarly about the young people among whom we are thrown; I find the same relief that you do whenever I can feel that I am helpful. I know all the restlessness that you know; I understand what you find natural to yourself, so that what you tell me is no news to me. Dearest, I don’t think that there is any difference between one suffering and another. MyChristianitysins, vices, faults;d5despair;b4 temptation has not been great, except the terrible temptation to despair. PurelyChristianitysins, vices, faults;d5lust;b5 sensual temptation could never have succeeded with me; only temptation which was disguised as completeness; and once was enough.
This is only a partial reply. And I shall not expect you to reply to this – at least, not at once – only to continue to give me a little bit of news. I want you to know that I appreciate your letter. And it made me feel that we are both much more mature than we were two and a half years ago: and that is something. And beyond this there is so much that I cannot put into words. You are never absent from my mind.
NEXT MORNING: I have read this over, and it doesn’t begin to be a reply to your letter, or the beginning of another – but I think I will send it, and answer your letter by the middle of the week.
1.Cf. Mary Baker Eddy: ‘Give us grace for to-day; feed the famished affections’ (‘Science and Health with Key to the Scripture’, 16–17) – the Christian Science interpretation of Matthew 6: 11 (The Lord’s Prayer): ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’
2.The Confiteor of the Mass: ‘I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers (and sisters) that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault’: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
3.Plato, Philebus 52d, 6–8: ‘What should we say relates to truth? The pure and unsullied, or the intense, and the large and the great …?’ Philo, in his account of the creation, extols the ‘active Cause’ as ‘the perfectly pure and unsullied Mind of the universe, transcending virtue, transcending knowledge, transcending the good itself’.
6.Jeande Menasce, Jean de Menasce (1902–73), theologian and orientalist (his writings include studies in Judaism, Zionism and Hasidism), was born in Alexandria into an aristocratic Egyptian Jewish family and educated in Alexandria, at Balliol College, Oxford (he was contemporary with Graham Greene and took his BA in 1924), and at the Sorbonne (Licence de Lettres). In Paris, he was associated with the magazines Commerce and L’Esprit, and he translated several of TSE’s poems for French publication: his translation of The Waste Land was marked ‘revué et approuvée par l’auteur’. He became a Catholic convert in 1926, was ordained in 1935 a Dominican priest – Father Pierre de Menasce – and became Professor of the History of Religion at the University of Fribourg, 1938–48; Professor and Director of Studies, specialising in Ancient Iranian Religions, at the École Pratique des Hautes Études, Paris (1949–70).
6.CharlotteEliot, Charlotte Champe Stearns (TSE's mother) Champe Stearns Eliot (1843–1929): see Biographical Register.
5.JacquesMaritain, Jacques Maritain (1882–1973), philosopher and littérateur, was at first a disciple of Bergson, but revoked that allegiance (L’Evolutionnisme de M. Bergson, 1911; La Philosophie bergsonienne, 1914) and became a Roman Catholic and foremost exponent of Neo-Thomism. For a while in the 1920s he was associated with Action Française, but the connection ended in 1926. Works include Art et scolastique (1920); Saint Thomas d’Aquin apôtre des temps modernes (1923); Réflexions sur l’intelligence (1924); Trois Réformateurs (1925); Primauté du spirituel (1927), Humanisme intégral (1936), Scholasticism and Politics (1940), Creative Intuition in Art and Poetry (1953). TSE told Ranjee Shahani (John O’London’s Weekly, 19 Aug. 1949, 497–8) that Maritain ‘filled an important role in our generation by uniting philosophy and theology, and also by enlarging the circle of readers who regard Christian philosophy seriously’. See Walter Raubicheck, ‘Jacques Maritain, T. S. Eliot, and the Romantics’, Renascence 46:1 (Fall 1993), 71–9; Shun’ichi Takayanagi, ‘T. S. Eliot, Jacques Maritain, and Neo-Thomism’, The Modern Schoolman 73: 1 (Nov. 1995), 71–90; Jason Harding, ‘“The Just Impartiality of a Christian Philosopher”: Jacques Maritain and T. S. Eliot’, in The Maritain Factor: Taking Religion into Interwar Modernism, ed. J. Heynickx and J. De Maeyer (Leuven, 2010), 180–91; James Matthew Wilson, ‘“I bought and praised but did not read Aquinas”: T. S. Eliot, Jacques Maritain, and the Ontology of the Sign’, Yeats Eliot Review 27: 1–2 (Spring–Summer 2010), 21; and Carter Wood, This Is Your Hour: Christian Intellectuals in Britain and the Crisis of Europe, 1937–40 (Manchester, 2019), 69–72.