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20 Somerset Terrace, Duke’s Road, W.C.—Is proud of his success in his meetings. Is sorry she has to go away when they have so much to talk about.

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20 Somerset Terrace— | Dukes Rd W.C.
13. 7. 00

Dear Mr Lawrence.

As I stepped over my threshold at 11 o’clock last night, I found your letter. I am sorry I was out. Tell me. Am I a very sentimental woman? I cant help feeling a thrill of pride—when I think of your toppling over those two & going on to break your lance with Chamberlain himself {1} —It reminds me of Sir Gareth {2} who had to fight the three knights who called themselves fantastically—Morning—Noon—and Night: These barred the way to the most terrible of all—the giant-knight surnamed Death—who was never seen—but dwelt in his stronghold: But this terrible fourth foe turned out to be a little child under an erected disguise. Bye† the way, Sir Gareth’s cry from boyhood on was this—

“Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King—
Follow Christ, the King, —
Else, wherefore born?"

Ah well! Of course I know that when it comes to the hard issue, there is absolutely no room for any sort of sentiment—It is a very complex economic & legal question bristling with side issues & immense difficulties. But you must give me ten minutes off now & then, to indulge a woman’s fancies! It pleases me & does not hurt you!

And you mustn’t mind if that wish you gave me—“the one and only wish”—is a little modified: It is not so much now that—the truth, (the abstract truth) may prevail—but that the truth-bearer may prevail:

I am very busy all today. I have been alone all the week—& still am alone—& I have to hold my head together lest I should forget something important. I am engaged right up to 9 or 9.30 to night {3}.

It is rather hard lines that I have to go off for a fortnight, when there is so much we have to talk about. Tomorrow morning I shall not have a free minute before I leave at noon: Still—I suppose it does not really matter. Philosophy! where are you?. Take my thoughts and my one wish—modified you know.

Yours
Emmeline Pethick

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{1} Joseph Chamberlain, the Colonial Secretary.

{2} Cf. Tennyson’s Idylls of the King, ‘Gareth and Lynette’.

{3} However, Emmeline sent the telegram message ‘Shall be free seven thirty’ from Euston station at four in the afternoon (PETH 7/58), and Fred paid her a visit that evening (see PETH 7/61).

20 Somerset Terrace, Duke’s Road, W.C.—Comments on his and his uncle’s attitude towards his career, and refers to his forthcoming meeting.

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Transcript

20 Somerset Terrace | Dukes Rd W.C
12. 7. 00

Dear Mr Laurence.

Thank you for your letter. It suits me! It has put a great gladness & a new song into the day.

Of course it was not you who said your career was ruined! Did I ever imagine that it was? And if I had, should I have dared to say that it was nonsense? But I have to vent my native impatience on somebody & your Uncle—all due regard and respect to him—was far enough away to be a safe victim!

I am glad that you dont believe in selfsacrifice. Neither do I {1}—be it far from me!—nor resignation nor any of the peculiarly “Christian” virtues—which by the way are not a bit Christian. The great new freshening tide of life poured into the world-old world-weary stagnant stream 18 or 19 centuries ago—brought the very opposite of these things—joy of life, spirit of adventure, inconquerable triumph—overwhelming sense of purpose and worth of being—& beyond reach of imagination, a further weight of glory: Courage, adventure, faith & inconquerable triumph—these are the things we believe in—Comrade—nicht wahr {2}?

Of course everything that I wrote yesterday was unnecessary. It doesn’t matter: But when I thought of you facing alone men like Lionel Philips {3}, to whom there seems to have been given an almost diabolical power to work mischief in achievement of their ends, I did tremble for the moment. And you talked so dreadfully solemn about the truth prevailing and all!! I had no idea you had reached the point of which your letter this morning tells me. Now of course I have not a fear.

I daresay I should like your Uncle very much if I met him. But of course we cannot take our life cues from our Uncles. After all, the full & flowing tide comes to each of us only once in our life-time, it is our turn now, and we must use it to float our craft & attain life’s fulfilment. By & bye it will turn for us too—& the ebbing tide will take us out from the world’s life, our work done or undone. Life—our own life—free, unfettered[,] our own—is so infinitely—infinitely precious. Not to be thrown away—not to be doled out to relations, not to be divided piecemeal amongst a thousand petty claims—but to be reserved—concentrated—a force—one of the forces of the universe!

Yes—we will go into all these practical questions—presently. They are very important. Thoughts will come—even prematurely. And I long to have the ground cleared & to be able to enter into the future. But I must cultivate a little further my two acquired virtues of patience and philosophy.

Yours sincerely
Emmeline Pethick

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{1} Cf. Emmeline Pethick’s article ‘The Sin of Self-Sacrifice’ in The Woman’s Herald, 27 Apr. 1893 (pp. 152–3).

{2} ‘Isn’t that so?’ (German).

{3} Lionel Phillips had become very rich from his mining interests in South Africa, but had been banished from the Transvaal in 1897 for his part in the Jameson Raid.

† Sic.