1159. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 6, 336–338.
[London]
Feb 23 1843
I had no difficulty my dearest friend about the magazines,—but I had & have a reluctance,—because altho’ poems so printed are always ready for a further publication, the novelty is gone, & a book composed of a resumè wd offer “little attraction”– I thank you however much, & Mr Chorley too for the advice– I am not inclined to do anything just now—I wait for a wind– Only I shall certainly send something to America,—were it but to prove my sense of their kindness to me: & the editor of Graham’s miscellany (New York) is very liberal of invitation & proposition. That magazine not having much circulation in England, clashes less with my objection—& it is associated with the best native talent—& then, if I please to be ungrateful, I can take Mr Kenyon’s advice & send my worst rhymes to it– Supposing I know them .. which you may suppose I dont–
I write all this out of the way to press unembarrassed towards subjects of more consequence. You do not say a word of the progress of the subscription, & I have not seen my single authority my dear Mr Kenyon, for several days– May the prosperity meet your sanguinest wishes—& ours—all who care for you. And this reminds me my beloved friend, that I had hoped you need not have been forced to leave your present residence—far less to think of Devonshire—through this success of this great measure. I know nothing of rents & prices in the interior of Devonshire—but their fame for cheapness is credible enough quite in the interior & out of sight & hearing of all the world. Would this suit you? you who have been used to a hundred & fifty neighbours & whose sympathies are so alive & warm? I fancy not. And then again, let the rent be ever so low, it will not be so low as nothing—as the house which your friend offered to you rent free, nine months in the year. [1] And then .. oh so far away! My selfishness uttered an irrisistible cry just there. It shall be silent now again, to make amends.
At Sidmouth, which is cheap compared to Torquay, poultry was scarcely ever dearer than 2s–6d the couple—& away from the wateringplaces, in the interior solitudes it may be less dear still. The rent of houses at Sidmouth is considered, I believe, very high .. comparatively speaking.
But no, no! you wont leave Berkshire. I hope you wont—as you are resolute against London–
I am very sorry that you shd have experienced such a shock in the sudden seizure of poor Mrs Clive. [2] But you who have resisted more cruel local repulsions than this can be, will resist this also–
Dear dear little Flush! My Flush has a genius for opening parcels. They are associated in his eyes with ‘cakes cakes’—and I never receive one, large or small, without his dashing up to me with great eyes & a tail wagging itself off.
Not a word of yourself! of your health! Do mention particularly my dear dear friend how you are, how you feel in every way. I am anxious about you—and I dont like this symptom about Devonshire. If Mrs Trollope goes there from Cumberland, [3] she will exchange a cold moisture for a warm moisture—& a dry air might correct the effect of the causes which have been injurious to her, more absolutely. I speak ignorantly—not knowing the character of her indisposition: and certainly for my own particular part, that soft dewiness of the Devonshire air is delightful,—the very manna of respiration. But other people often feel differently from me, & I have heard them cry out loudly against the over-moisture & the relaxation.
‘The rain it raineth every day’ [4]
in Devonshire you know. And when it does’nt, it stands still in the clouds & looks down on you until the earth is wetter than with its own inward streams, & you are quite surprised, while the sun shines, not to be drenched to your skin.
Mr Simmons! [5] Ah, I know that you give him your valuable praise– For myself—he may be ‘masculine’—that is, he may write like a manly scholar as he is: but power,—the sort of power which leaves an impression, .. I miss in him. It is all good—nothing great—I forget it all ten minutes after reading– That may be my fault: & since your thoughts are what they are, it probably is my fault. May God bless you my beloved friend & cause you to prosper in all things!
Ever your
EBB–
Publication: EBB-MRM, II, 179–181.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. See letter 1118, note 4.
2. Caroline Clive (née Meysey-Wigley, 1801–73), best known for her novel Paul Ferroll (1855), had published a collection of poems in 1840. She was a confirmed invalid for some years before her death (DNB).
3. Mrs. Trollope, who had a house at Penrith, visited Devonshire in the spring of 1843 before settling permanently in Florence. Miss Mitford, writing to Mrs. Partridge on 15 March 1843, expressed the hope of seeing Mrs. Trollope in Devonshire (Chorley, I, 212).
4. Twelfth Night, V, 1, 392.
5. Bartholomew Simmons (1804–50) published Legends, Lyrics, and Other Poems in 1843. A review in The Athenæum praised his powers of imagination but said: “Our author’s besetting fault is exaggeration, both in feature and colouring” (no. 812, 20 May 1843, p. 484). He was mentioned in the article on “Recent English Poetry” in The North American Review of July 1842, along with EBB.
___________________
