1438. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 8, 53–56.
[London]
Novr 21. 1843.
Your letter, my dearest friend, is twenty times welcome,—& stands for you .. for that coveted presence,—right worthily. Oh—if you do come before May & bring Flush, what a pleasure it will be to me,—& what a pleasure it is, to have such an alley of futurity to look down & contemplate. For me to see your Flush with my living eyes, is quite a long ambition of mine—and then it will be hard but that you and I together prevent anything approaching to an “Unnatural combat,” [1] —my Flushie’s cowardice helping us!– How I shall like to compare the Flushies! Not but what I am prepared for more beauty in Flush the first—only you must not expect me to admire him as if I loved him quite as well as I do Flush the second. By the way, the latter awoke me this morning,—leaping on the bed, & dropping your letter on my face while he kissed me. Do you know, he is my postman? Did I ever tell you that?
The contract between Miss Maurice & the dancingmaster to the exclusion of profane music, particularly amused me. Well—she must be an oddity—but the idea of a book for the sick, is good as far as it goes; and I do not repent of my contribution. [2] And this brings me to ‘Pan Departed’ my dearest Miss Mitford, & your kind intention of caring to ask about it. In fact, Mr Kenyon’s prejudice in its favor & kindness for me, uniting (I say “uniting,” when you may correct me & suggest that the two motives are essentially one) to induce him to talk of the poem & show it about, [3] —it has past through a ms edition already, & with more splendid successes than I dare hope for it in print. It was at the root of Miss Martineau’s writing to me—and Mrs Jameson (a combination which made me very conceited) took a copy down to read to her & found her well read in it already.– I do not like to think that you, by some caprice of fatality,—or because the “showing about” was none of my own personal doing (for that is the real reason) shd be the last to see this lyric,—(and I say “I do not like it”, not for your sake my dearest friend, who have lost nothing, but for mine who lose a “sweet superstition”) [4] —nevertheless since the fact is so, & you have not seen it until now, you shall not while it is in ms. It is resolved that I bring out a volume this coming spring—and thus it becomes, under no aspect, worth while, that you should see the poem, to what you have confessed to be, manuscript disadvantage. No. Having waited so long, you shall wait a little, a very little longer,—& read it first in print. Mr Kenyon has overpraised it I am aware,—although he may be right in considering it my best production. Very possibly it is. And my hope is, that, generally, when my book comes out, I may appear to you & competent critics, to have gained something in point of strength … or even clearness perhaps … who knows? I know nevertheless that writers cannot always .. can seldom .. perform safe judgements on themselves; & that when I talk of progress, I may deceive myself as utterly, as do certain other of your poetical friends when they talk of immortality. [5] Therefore I mention cautiously and only as my own impression, the possibility of my having gained something—& of my gaining more, perhaps, if I live on to work & think. It is something .. is it not?—for I tremble to be self-deceived,—that I have gained the perception of various weaknesses in the Seraphim volume, to which I was blind at the period of its publication. How slowly the mind matures!—I, [6] who was one of those hapless monsters yclepped precocious children,—who wrote an Epic at eleven years old (which was printed for the advantage of my friends & to the infinite perplexity of the Muses!) [7] —I, who thought myself no small poet before I was as high as the table, .. have come to talk, at past thirty, of my immaturity of four years ago.!! Strange combination, or contrariety! And yet, progress is possible to the Mind,—my doctrine goes,—as long as its faculties remain healthy and active, and as long as they act in entire sympathy with the will. Which may be true as a doctrine, whether you admit or not its application to myself & the rhymes belonging to me.
What is more important than Pan or I, (if I may so “side the gods”) [8] is … oh, I dare not say it—I am afraid. Do you know that when you sate by me & I longed to ask a question, I was afraid & cdnt do it?—and even now when unhappily I am safe from the electricity of your eyes, I cannot, any more. And yet that word about Colburn was a very serpent of temptation .. or an ourangoutang .. to please Adam Clarke. I longed so, to enquire how much was written,—and whether there wd be any publishing anon. Behold, how far above temptation your friend is ..
“And she’ll be made a saint of, to be sure.” [9]
And let me observe that, whether my brothers & sisters do or do not, sink your authorship in your friendship & forget your genius in your goodness, .. I [10] (guilty or innocent) never pretend to do such a thing. I never do … I confess in all humility,—never,—and not at the moments that I love you best! You may put me into purgatory for this,—but when I come out again I shall be as bad as ever; for I am incorrigibly perverse—& your best plan is to forgive me & make the best of me, & pity a natural infirmity. As to your kind words about those dearest to me, I thank & love you for every one. You are appreciated, I am proud to say, by all of us. Come, & let us appreciate Flush!
You know much more of Mr Horne, methinks, than I do,—& you tell me a great deal of news about his book-work, which I did not guess at before. Two volumes, is this new work to consist of? And do they come out at once, or successively?– Still it surprises me that he shd have had five hundred pounds for Napoleon, & only one hundred for what will give him at least as much trouble! [11] And my dearest friend, you make a little mistake, I think, about the date of the former publication,—Napoleon having come out scarcely three years ago,—& the trade being, at the actual moment, on the ascent towards a renewing of prosperity. So Mr Moxon told Mr Kenyon the other day—“that it was decidedly on the ascent, in consequence of the improving aspect of other branches of trade—& that he had had very lately large orders for the old stayers (a good sign) Wordsworth & Campbell,—& that he was about to re-publish Landor’s Imaginary Conversations, [12] —a venture which he shd not have thought of for a moment, only two years ago!”– This is good news .. for you, I hope, as well as for others. Insolent of me, to say … “for you”..!!
Let the oysters, which go to you today, mediate for me. Remember how much I [13] am like an oyster .. a simile discovered for me by Mr Horne!—and pity & forgive me in my type.
Your ever affectionate
EBB.
Where did you suppose Mr Horne to procure his assistance? assistance of what character—& from what quarter? [14]
Address: Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / Near Reading.
Publication: EBB-MRM, II, 342–345.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Coleridge, The Piccolomini; or, The First Part of Wallenstein (1800), V, 6, 67.
2. See letter 1436, note 3.
3. One of the persons to whom Kenyon showed the poem was Merivale, whose comments on it can be found in SD1189 and SD1190.
4. We have not located the source of this quotation.
5. Miss Mitford’s “poetical friends” included Reade, who, in the preface to A Record of the Pyramids (1842), spoke of a poet’s “full sense, or rather consciousness, of immortality” borne within (p. xxvii).
6. Underscored twice.
7. The Battle of Marathon, printed at EBB’s father’s expense in 1820, when she was 14.
8. EBB often used this phrase; for its possible derivation, see letter 840, note 1.
9. Cf. Congreve, “Pious Selinda,” line 7.
10. Underscored thrice.
11. The History of Napoleon was published in two volumes in 1841.
12. Landor’s Imaginary Conversations appeared at intervals between 1824 and 1829, but, despite Moxon’s declared intention, they were not re-issued at this time.
13. Underscored twice.
14. EBB was still concealing her part in the preparation of A New Spirit of the Age, even from such close friends as Miss Mitford. A general assessment of her collaboration can be found in English Language Notes, June 1971, pp. 274–281. Her specific contribution to the papers on Carlyle and Tennyson is shown on pp. 353–367 of this volume.
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