BRACERS Record Detail for 17288
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"Tuesday afternoon"
"My dinner last night, contrary to expectation, was not unpleasant. The Master, though kind, is a greasy old humbug, and I had him on one side. (It is an official occasion when ladies are not asked.) But young Charles Darwin, son of George and brother of Mrs. Raverat, was on my other side and was very pleasant. Broad sent word he couldn't come as he had had a domestic bereavement. The Master was much exercised and hoped it was not a near relation. Darwin told me it was his dress clothes he had been bereft of or rather had not brought. It is to be hoped the Master won't find out before the election.
This morning I have been reading the essays of the candidates—there is a three-hour essay paper they all have to do. Most of them were poor. Broad's much the best. One of the subjects set was Whitehead's remark in his Shilling Shocker that we ought as far as possible to do things without thinking, that operations of thought are like cavalry charges, only to be made at decisive moments. On this one of the candidates (a man who had been to my lectures) said that Whitehead outdid Shaw and Chesterton in brilliant paradox. I shall rag Whitehead about this. One of the candidates, Gow, son of the headmaster of Westminster, whom I scarcely know, quoted whole chunks out of my discussion of ethics in my Philosophical Essays. I think it is held to be prudent to read books of examiners."
BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [3 OCT. 1911]
BRACERS 17288. ALS. Morrell papers #206, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.
<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1, 2
In the train
Tuesday aftn.
My Darling
Two letters came this morning which was a great joy — the two written Saturday. I am very glad my letters had at last begun to come. I didn’t think you would succeed in getting letters forwarded — I never did in Austria, and lost several in consequence when I was with Sanger.
I don’t bother about what Alys and Logan know — as long as they are not goaded into action it doesn’t matter at all, and it is evident now that they certainly will not take action. As for detection I don’t know, but how did they know you hadn’t got your maid? But the question is quite unimportant. I don’t really believe it either. (You can see when this train started by the handwriting.)
I had a talk with Waterlow and told him Mrs Meredith was talked about and definitely ascertained that it is a complete mistake.
My dinner last night, contrary to expectation, was not unpleasant. The Master, though kind, is a greasy old humbug, and I had him on one side. (It is an official occasion when ladies are not asked.) But young Charles Darwin, son of George and brother of Mrs Raverat, was on my other side and was very pleasant. Broad sent word he couldn’t come as he had had a domestic bereavement. The Master was much exercised and hoped it was not a near relation. Darwin told me it was his dress clothes he had been bereft of, or rather had not brought. It is to be hoped the Master won’t find out before the election.
This morning I have been reading the essays of the candidates — there is a 3-hour essay paper they all have to do. Most of them were poor. Broad’s much the best. One of the subjects set was Whitehead’s remark in his shilling shocker that we ought as far as possible to do things without thinking, that operations of thought are like cavalry charges, only to be made at decisive moments. On this one of the candidates (a man who had been to my lectures) said that Whitehead outdid Shaw and Chesterton in brilliant paradox. I shall rag Whitehead about this. One of the candidates, Gow, son of the headmaster of Westminster, whom I scarcely know, quoted whole chunks out of my discussion of Ethics in my Philosophical Essays. I think it is held to be prudent to read the books of examiners.
I agree with you about Hilda Lessways. Yesterday I read Sacred and Profane Love, which interested me much more. Are you reading it? It is before A.B. had developed his special manner of slow-moving detailed realism.
Jourdain came to tea yesterday and I enjoyed seeing him. Today he moves out to Girton.
I am fancying you enjoying the peace of Meran after the noise of Vienna. On reflection I am not sure that I have been to Meran, I may have confused it with some other place. The Giorgione even in the small reproduction is meltingly beautiful — it has the same quality as the Castelfranco one. There is an infinite brooding aspiration after peace and vision which is wonderfully moving. Thank you for sending it.
I am so glad Darling that you like my letters. They always seem to me in danger of becoming treatises on diverse topics. I should like to go on writing to you all day and I often do write just for the sake of being writing to you. It is next best to being with you — but by a long interval! I think the first vice you should take in hand is the vice of writing to you instead of reading Bergson, whom I have brought in my pocket. I have read a good deal of him and I can see why people like him, also, I think, how he comes to believe such stuff. But it is stuff. His God is deduced from the eyes of shell-fish. He is the antithesis to me: he universalizes the particular soul under the name of é
Now the train is off again and I must stop and read B. Goodbye my Darling my love my life. My thoughts are with you always.
Yr utterly devoted
B.
