Typed letter signed : "Ox's Cross, Georgeham", to H.P. Collins, 1961 Apr. 29.

Concerning his longing to do what he wants to do; .."one can say that with the literary-sedentary, as one knows full well, every day almost is a crise du nerf, if that is not a garble. Every day. Here it is hard ever to do what one LONGS to do: to be clear to sit down & write-meditate-plan one's work. One of course cannot belong only to the artist : there are children (8) all but 2 grown up, grandchildren, daily callers, thesis writers-seekers endlessly, kettles to be boiled if one wants to drink when munching sandwiches, etc. Books pour in by every post. If you could etc. Invitations to Canada, Italy, Paris, Ireland...everywhere one is borne free, but in chains. Bad habit, to write! I'll have no free time in London. Publishers, agent, talks with paperback kings, a gratis lecture to help a Catholic quarterly, to Sittingborne to interview old soldier for the Haig Centenary BBC programme, reproachful calls from cousins etc 'You never come to see us!', complete exhaustion by nightfall. Been once to theatre in 22 years. So, I am awfully sorry, but I MUST cut down my labours and rest now & again, or perish...I am with Jefferies, who would burn ALL Mss etc and end on a pyre of pine logs on the hills. Have been reading Conrad. He knew. I hope soon to be able to leave Devon. It is no longer the place I knew; so its best to pull out & see anew, without attachment. Where, heaven knows...I think/thought of you always as standing in your corner window, a tall literary figure if ever there was one spiritually of the nineties; before Edwardianism led to Eliotism; after whom the spraying of wild flowers and a countryside where few birds sing. .