BRACERS Record Detail for 17147
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"I want to get free from business, and away from purely technical jobs, and really try to write out something of what I live by in the way of faith."
BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, 19 MAY [1911]
BRACERS 17147. ALS. Morrell papers #74, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.
<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1, 2
May 19.
My Dearest Dearest
I am sorry you are so dreadfully tired. I hope the inoculation really will do you good in the end. I think you do see too many people when you are in London. I mustn’t be selfish and I don’t want to absorb you more than is right, and I don’t doubt that you give life and faith to people who are weary, much more than you have any idea of. But I think what you do for people depends upon your not getting too tired and you ought not to try to do too much.
O my heart, I cannot ever tell you what joy it gives me when you say I am a help to you — it is having each other that is the real help, for you do the same for me. You need never have one instant’s doubt of your power to help me — you can help me more than you will ever realize, because you will think it all comes from me, when it is you reflected in me. — I have my dreams too. I want to get free from business, and away from purely technical jobs, and really try to write out something of what I live by in the way of faith. It will take time, because of jobs already undertaken; but it will come about gradually, more and more. And if you can have leisure and health you can make all the difference to me in that — because I should write everything for you in the first instance, and then prune it to do for others. I see a wonderful future for us stretching through the years, in which we shall help each other to bring good things to the world, and have the bond of mutual strength and a great work in common. All the freedom from things you feel trivial that you can rightly take you may know will help me. You have given me faith when I was doubting and hope when I was despairing. But I must have long leisure to think and feel, before I can get my thoughts out — And if you can have more leisure, you can help me more. But if you have to neglect people you are useful to, I shall be sorry — You must judge for yourself about it.
Darling your flowers are anything but a bother — they are a delight, I can’t tell you what a delight, much more than I should have thought possible. No one ever sent me flowers before, and I couldn’t have guessed how full of your love they would be — My bedmaker produced a number of glass jars from somewhere, and I have flaunted them for the “education” of my young men. I told my bedmaker they were a birthday present, but I didn’t say they were from the tall lady. They look lovely, and make the place quite different. Nowadays I long to have beautiful things about me — I used to be indifferent or even wish not to have anything nice — my life was so full of discords that it seemed a vain pretence. I am sorry you bothered about the table, but I will come tomorrow and help you to choose. I haven’t the least idea what sort I want, but I dare say I shall know when I see them. Unless you write to the contrary, I shall reach you at 10.30 tomorrow. Mildred Scott wants me to lunch at Emperor’s Gate at 1, so the time will be short. I think you said Monday was no good? How about next Wednesday? From Tuesday at 12 till Thursday at 11, I have no engagements.
I was much interested in the report of the Land Deputation in which Philip took part. I am sure that is politically the right direction.
Last night after my young men were gone, when I ought to have gone to bed, I spent ever so long walking up and down my room just filled with love of you, grudging sleep that robs me of you for the moment. It is quite extraordinary how in spite of being utterly absorbed in you, I find my love for everyone else heightened — it seems as if all generous and good feelings were intensified, and were somehow part of my love for you — They seem part of my offering to you — I want to give you the best gift I can — Goodbye my heart my life my joy — Ottoline, I am yours utterly.
B.
