The Letters of T. S. Eliot, Volume 1: 1898-1922 (63 page)

1–The Eliots relinquished their lease on 15 Nov.

MS
Professor David G. Williams

21 April 1919

18 Crawford Mansions

My dear Dr
Woods,

Your two letters of Feb 15 and Feb 27 have been a long time unanswered, and this must appear very rude of me.
¹
Your first letter came, oddly enough, just as I had received another proposal, which, with illness, occupied my time for many weeks after. May I say first of all, how keenly I appreciate your never failing kindness toward me since the very beginning of our acquaintance? Your last letters are only one more proof of it, but one which has touched me very deeply. In the second place of course I feel very much pleased at the honour in such a suggestion – an honour really out of proportion to my attainments in philosophy.

When I first settled in England my material ambitions were toward a literary editorship. I only went into a Bank as a stop gap until I became sufficiently well known to get the sort of offer I wanted. Now that I am well known I have had the offer and find that I don’t want it any longer. I have been offered the assistant-editorship of the
Athenaeum
at a very good salary and have declined it. This for two kinds of reason.

The first is that I have got on very well in Banking, and although I have not yet anywhere near as good a salary as the
Athenaeum
offered me I have lately been pushed into a post of some importance which offers fairly lucrative prospects, and interesting work in economics and foreign affairs. I suppose also I take some self-satisfaction in having carried off a
tour de force
in succeeding with an occupation apparently so incongruous. Also I like the men I have to deal with, and they have been kind to me.

The other reason is more ideal. I think that my position in English letters is all the stronger for my not being associated with any periodical as an employee. Journalism is a profession like any other, and it has no more to do with
literary
art
than any other occupation. This is a cardinal point. In writing for a paper one is writing for a public, and the best work, the only work that in the end counts, is written for oneself. If one has to earn a living, therefore, the safest occupation is that most remote from the arts.

There are only two ways in which a writer can become important – to write a great deal, and have his writings appear everywhere, or to write very little. It is a question of temperament. I write very little, and I should not become more powerful by increasing my output. My reputation in
London is built upon one small volume of verse, and is kept up by printing two or three more poems in a year. The only thing that matters is that these should be perfect in their kind, so that each should be an event.

As to America: I am a much more important person here than I should be at home. I am getting to know and be known by all the intelligent or important people in letters, and I am convinced that I am more useful in the long run by being here. Finally, one changes. I have acquired the habit of a society so different that it is difficult to find common terms to define the difference.

My father died early in the year, and my mother is going to settle in Cambridge as soon as her affairs are in order. I am looking forward to visiting her there at sometime during next winter or spring. Surely you will be there?

I am hoping to hear from you in answer to my last letter, but you are of course waiting for this letter from me. I hope you will reply to this, and provoke another letter from me: one cannot put the process of four years experience clearly on four sheets of paper.

Very gratefully yours
T. S. Eliot 

1–TSE, ‘A Romantic Patrician’, a review of George Wyndham,
Essays in Romantic Literature,
in A., 2May 1919; collected in SW. ‘How very good is your essay on Wyndham!’ wrote JMM. ‘I could not have wished it better done. What a great pleasure it is to have you working with me. I only hope that the collaboration will not be interrupted until we have restored criticism.’

MS
Houghton

23 April 1919

18 Crawford Mansions

My dearest Mother

It seems a very long time since I have written to you. I have just had a holiday: Friday to Tuesday was a general ‘bank holiday’ in England this year, but it has gone very quickly. Vivien unfortunately came down with a mild attack of influenza and was in bed the whole time. She is much better now, but weak. We were to have gone to the country, to Lady Ottoline Morrell’s. It was just as well, however, that her attack should have come when I could be at home, as our daily woman only stays till 4 o’clock at present, until she is quite strong again. What usually happens after V. has influenza is that I get it and she has to nurse me before she is well, but I took extra precautions this time.  

I spent part of my time writing an article for the
Athenaeum
,
¹
and was rewarded by a warm letter of appreciation this morning from the editor.
I will send you the paper when it comes out. When I declined his offer he decided not to have
any
assistant editor, as, he said, he did not know of anyone else in England whose critical judgment he could trust in matters of the literary policy of the paper. That is very flattering, and makes me feel that I ought to do all I can to help the paper: it is the only weekly that I should care to be associated with. As the articles are to be initialled I shall have credit for them among the people who count.  

I have been trying the last two afternoons to buy a muzzle for our dog. We have a dog – a very small Yorkshire terrier with hair over its eyes, a waif which followed me in the street.1 We have had it some time. It is of very good breeding, and was beautifully trained by someone and a good companion for Vivien when she is alone during the day. Lately there was a dog accused of rabies near London, and so all dogs must be muzzled. The shops have been besieged by frantic people wanting muzzles, all bringing their dogs. I waited in a queue for half an hour yesterday and the woman just ahead of me bought
three
– and there were no more of the size. I managed to get one today, and then had to buy a file and a pair of pincers to alter it to fit. The dog hates it, of course.  

I enclose the form of receipt for the stick. I think you had better keep it until I come unless there is some very secure way of packing, but I don’t want to run any risks with an object of such value. The worst of such a possession is that I shall be afraid ever to use it. You have another stick of mine, silver headed, at Gloucester. The only things I want immediately are a few books which I asked Shef to send, if possible.  

The question of leave of absence is rather a difficult one at present. I had hoped that the new department would be organised at once. It is held up at the moment because we are waiting for rooms. Another department is to move away and give place to us. Until they do so, and it may be two or three weeks, we can do nothing, as the work involves a large outfit of filing cabinets, etc. I cannot broach any question of holiday until the department is actually in existence, and then it will be a question of seeing how the work is to be divided up among my colleagues. I shall probably be very busy and have a good deal of responsibility in the initial organisation, and I don’t know whether I can get even an ordinary vacation this summer. At any rate, I must get my foot firmly planted first, and then take a rest. I am also hoping (but this is in strict confidence) to
be in a position to show that I could do some work in the bank’s interest on the other side, and so get part of the expense paid. Very likely nothing will come of this, however. As soon as the work is under way I can size up better what to ask for and when. The more important I am the more time I can beg, but also the more delayed I may be. It would be in the winter or early in the spring. I cannot tell you how anxious I am to come to you, and how much I think about it. If it was the spring do you think it would be any easier for you to help us both to come? Vivien is very anxious to come.  

I had a very nice letter from Marion which I hope to answer soon. I must write to Henry.  

With very much love  

Your affectionate son
Tom.

1–They named the dog ‘Dinah Brooks’.

MS
Texas

Thursday [1? May 1919]

18 Crawford Mansions

Dear Mary,

Are we going to see you before you go away? Vivienne has been ill this week and we have had so much to do getting ready to leave the flat that we have not had time for any social engagements.

If possible, could we not arrange to meet on Sunday or on Saturday afternoon? Do let me know if you are available. It is so long since we have seen you.

Sincerely,
T. S. E.

We are leaving here by Saturday morning so could you just send a line that I should get by then.

MS
Houghton

4 May 1919

18 Crawford Mansions

Dearest Mother,

I must answer your questions first.

I received everything, chessmen, and pocket chess also, for which I thank you very much. I should very much like to have the bath robe – mine is
very
worn and also I should like to have father’s very much indeed: I should like to have it with me. As for Rollo books. I was anxious that they be
preserved; I cannot see that I have any claim upon them beyond the fact that I was the last in the family to make use of them. If there is anyone else in the immediate family who would treasure them as much as I (for I think very highly of them) let them have them. It seems a small matter, perhaps, but there might not unnaturally be some feeling against their going out of the country. The only things I want are

1. Things I value and others don’t.
   
2. Things (i.e. certain books) which I could make better use of than anyone else. There it is in brief.
   

I have still been very busy. Besides the A. I have found myself involved in various literary schemes and intrigues, as I seem to get involved nowadays. For one minor thing, Ezra Pound has gone to France, and I am the only person he can depend upon to look after his forthcoming book, and one or two other things.
¹
All sorts of literary affairs seem to claim at least my counsel, and there are often jarring interests to be reconciled by diplomacy. It is gratifying in a way but distracting.

My connection with the A. seems to have given me a critical notoriety I did not have before. It is pleasant that I find the editor so congenial. I am writing now about a cousin of ours, who has written a very interesting book which you would like to read:
The Education of Henry Adams.
²
There is a chance of my placing articles at times with the
Quarterly Review
, which would be a triumph, as it attacked me so ferociously two years ago.
³
My lectures come to an end tomorrow, for which I am very thankful; I hope I have done with education; the pay is not bad, but it seems such a waste!

I am very sorry you have had so much trouble in disposing of the houses: I should think that E. Point at least ought to realise very handsomely. It will be very valuable property in time if not too many cheap houses are built.

No more now.

With infinite love. You are much in my thoughts –

Your son
Tom.

1–EP corrected proofs for
Quia Pauper Amavi
(London: Egoist Ltd, Oct. 1919) in Toulouse, but was planning further ahead. He had written to RC-S (22 Apr. 1919): ‘I am leaving for the continent this afternoon, shall not return before October at earliest; so I shall be unable to talk with you, or to enquire what kind of publisher you intend to be. My
Instigations
will run to 400/600 pages, prose. It is the most important prose work I have done; you can, if you like, discuss terms of publication of it with T. S. Eliot.’ However,
Instigations
appeared only in America (Boni & Liveright, 1920).

2–TSE, ‘A Sceptical Patrician’ (review of
The Education of Henry Adams: An Autobiography,
1919), A., 23 May 1919, 361–2. TSE was a ‘cousin’ of the author, Henry Brooks Adams (1838–1918), in that his grandmother, Abigail Adams Eliot, was a niece of John Quincy Adams, the sixth US President, who was Henry Adams’s grandfather.

3–Arthur Waugh, in the
Quarterly Review
(Oct. 1916), had described ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ as ‘the reduction to absurdity’ of ‘unmetrical, incoherent banalities’. TSE never contributed to the journal.

MS
Beinecke

4 May 1919

from Hotel Constance,
¹
23 Lancaster Gate w.2

Dear Brigit,

That is settled for Wednesday then. V. is to get tickets tomorrow. You will dine with us, please, at the
Restaurant Español,
Dean Street, Soho (it is just opposite a theatre, I forget which, but the only one in Dean Street). You cannot ask us to dinner, as I have asked another man to come (we are not in evening dress), but if you like you may pay for your ticket.

I am distressed to hear of your nervous prostration, though I suspect it may be digestive prostration as a result of the meal we gave you on Tuesday. V. is also on the verge of collapse in consequence of the horrors of moving.

In case your collapse continues so that you can’t stir afoot on Wednesday, please communicate with one of us – Vivien is at 39 Inverness Terrace
W.2
and as I could not get in there I am at address above.

Points in this letter:

1. Address of Restaurant p. 1. 7
   p.m. Wednesday.
   
2. Our addresses in case of collapse (which would not be forgiven).
   
3. You can pay for ticket but not for dinner.
   

Do get well.

Sincerely
T.S.E.