1046. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 6, 145–146.
[London]
Nov. 8. 1842–
My beloved friend, I must write a few words to you & then be done—for silence is out of the question for today again, & our friend Mr Hunter has come from Brighton to see us & will be in this room in ten minutes. I have often mentioned him to you I think, & his little girl who was my “Little Friend” in the poems, & is a great girl & friend just now, of sixteen. You know he is a dissenting minister of wide acquirements. He has a chapel at Brighton & wishes to take private pupils besides & has one young man already,—& likes teaching—which is so wonderful to me that I consider it an idiosyncrasy. But a person of high talent he is certainly, & full, too full for happiness, of sensibility—that is, the power of suffering is not sufficiently balanced by the energy to act,—which produces a despondent character very painful to witness the working of sometimes, in so dear a friend.
I have not seen Mr Kenyon since the first time. He is carried away by the social stream of course—and perhaps, .. perhaps .. has never thought of me again! There’s ingratitude of my secret thoughts, for you! But I cant help thinking such things of him indeed—try as I may—and kind as he is! He lives in such an unnatural whirlwind or whirlpool or both. One can as little expect another to remember one in such circumstances, as to take notes while he tumbles down Niagara.
But I must remember at last to tell you something he said to me when he was here. It was not said in an àproposity to your opinions yet it reminded me of them. He said that Coleridge said, that every great man he ever knew, had something of the woman in him, with one exception: and the exception was Wordsworth. Now, mind! The observation was intended as no reproach to great men generally, but praise—and the subject defined had no relation to effeminacy (strictly speaking) but to softness .. tenderness! So I in my perversity, put your remark [1] & Coleridge’s together, or rather plunge yours into Coleridge’s & leave it there liquidated!
They are coming! I hear them on the stairs! My beloved dearest friend I only write this to be a sign to you that I think of you continually– May God bless & sustain you! Oh, that I could but see you for two minutes!—and yet two minutes would not satisfy me! But the sitting up, the sitting up! for you to sit up all night long!—to go to bed at eight in the morning! I tremble to think of the effect of this day & night grief & watching! May God bless you! I come to those words at last—as the only ones fit to say!–
Never mind about the fires! No life being lost, other losses are secondary. [2]
Ever your EBB–
More grapes go to you tomorrow.
Publication: EBB-MRM, II, 72–73.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Alleging RB to be effeminate (see letter 1037).
2. Presumably a reference to the fire at John Walter’s estate, mentioned in letter 1044.
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