[No surviving envelope]
This is for to sprise you. I am sorry that I have not put in the new ribbon. The last time Miss O’Donovan put in a ribbon to my typewriter the results were like this.
So now as the red part is so much better I shall keep on with it. What I began to say is this: that I don’t know whats hapened [sic] to the ribbon. I mean, when I arrived there were three things I wanted to mention (1) thatHale, Emilywritings;x4account of communion at Beaulieu;a3 I really meant what I said about your account of what happened at the church at Beaulieu, it did seem to me very well written, so that I was not only interested, please but – if you will take my meaning – proud of what you did1 (2) InHale, Irene (née Baumgras)EH reaches limit with;a6 your letter you said something important in admitting that you had discovered that in most of one’s relations there is a limit to what one can do for people: e.g. that Emily Hale had discovered that she could not make over Irene Hale. That so far as one can help other people to be something more than they are, one must give oneself completely; but the moment you find that you are merely a drug to keep them going or are exhausting yourself to no permanent spiritual good to them, thenChristianitysins, vices, faults;d5when unselfishness shades into;a9 you are committing a sin in expending yourself. I should like you to realise this more fully still, and to see that beyond a point you are doing a wrong – unselfishness may become a vice – it becomes easier to be unselfish than to do what is right. (3) anMurder in the Cathedraland EH on TSE as dramatist;b4 impersonal and quite different matter – you are quite right in saying that my test as a dramatist will come when I do something entirely according to my own notion and not sur commande. I do understand and agree. We shall see, next winter and perhaps it will take two winters.
IHale, Emilyhealth, physical and mental;w6TSE's desire to nurse;a3 only want to say now, that I have had one of the most wonderful evenings of my life. You are not to stick out your tongue and say that I was pleased to find you so ill: I was as sorry as sorry could be. BUT I have always had the notion, how lovely it would be to nurse you IF you were ill – I have no illusion that I really was nursing you, and I quite realise that in allowing me to stroke your forehead – which gave me the opportunity to study more carefully the contours of the most beautiful of all noses – you were only being kind to me in allowing me to believe that I was doing something for you. AllHale, Emilyrelationship with TSE;w9EH 'kisses' TSE;d9 the more kind, therefore, to kiss me when I left, as if I had done something for you. It was a great relief to run out and get the medicine for you – I hope it will have proved efficacious. I can’t imagine you ever in such pain or fatigue that you would not be able to think of doing something for somebody else.
Jusqu’à mardi, alors. Puis-je dire que j’ai passé une soirée vertigineuse et inoubliable? Puisque tu le veux, je n’écrirai pas avant notre prochain rendez-vous.2
οἴμοι κακοδαίμων; I have looked at my tablets & find IBell, Bernard Iddings;a1 have to lunch on Tues. 18th with Canon Iddings Bell of Providence R. I. 3 This is inprovidential φεὺ φεὺ and I can only wait impatiently to see you at 6.45 on Tuesday 18th June. οἰ οἰ ὀτοτοτοί.
ChorusMurder in the Cathedralchorus copied for EH;b5 to open Act II instead of the liturgical business.
Does the bird sing in the South?
Only the sea-bird cries, driven inland by the storm.
What sign of the spring of the year?
Only the death of the old: not a stir, not a shoot, not a breath.
Do the days begin to lengthen?
Longer and darker the day, shorter and colder the night.
Still and stifling the air: but a wind is stored up in the East.
The starved crow sits in the field, attentive; and in the wood
The owl rehearses the hollow note of death.
What signs of a bitter Spring?
The wind stored up in the East.
What, at the time of the birth of Our Lord, at Christmastide,
Is there not peace upon earth, goodwill among men?
The peace of this world is always uncertain, unless men keep the peace of God.
And war among men defiles the world, but death in the Lord renews it,
And the world must be cleaned in the winter, or we shall have only
A sour spring, a parched summer, an empty harvest.
Between Christmas and Easter what work shall be done?
The ploughman shall go out in March and turn the same earth
He has turned before, the bird shall sing the same song,
When the leaf is out on the tree, when the elder and may
Burst over the stream, and the air is clear and high,
And voices trill at windows, and children tumble in front of the door,
What work shall have been done, what wrong
Shall the bird’s song cover, the green tree cover, what wrong
Shall the fresh earth cover? We wait, and the time is short
But waiting is long.
1.See Appendix.
2.‘Until Tuesday, then. Can I say that I spent a dizzying and unforgettable evening? If you wish, I won’t write until our next meeting.’
3.BernardBell, Bernard Iddings Iddings Bell, DD (1886–1958), American Episcopal priest, author and cultural commentator; Warden of Bard College, 1919–33. In his last years he was made Canon of the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul, Chicago, and a William Vaughn Lecturer at the University of Chicago.
3.BernardBell, Bernard Iddings Iddings Bell, DD (1886–1958), American Episcopal priest, author and cultural commentator; Warden of Bard College, 1919–33. In his last years he was made Canon of the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul, Chicago, and a William Vaughn Lecturer at the University of Chicago.
3.IreneHale, Irene (née Baumgras) Hale, née Baumgras, widow of Philip Hale, celebrated as the prolific and influential music critic of the Boston Herald. Irene Hale, who was herself an accomplished pianist, had studied at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music, where she gained the Springer Gold Medal 1881, and continued with her studies in Europe under Raif and Moritz Mosckowski: she later wrote music under the name Victor Rene.