1719. EBB to Julia Martin
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 9, 146–148.
[London]
Wednesday. [18 September 1844] [1]
My dearest Mrs Martin,
Guilty or innocent, Henrietta has had what is commonly called “a good scold” from me for the letter she probably wrote to you. Oh—and I must assure you, now that you are returned perhaps from Clifton, that whatever she said & however you understood what she said, you spoke nothing but kindness to me about the book, and as nothing but pure kindness, I received it. For Mr Martin, he is quite, altogether wrong,—& is the only person who has not done me justice. Tell him from me that I care more for an honest opinion than for all the bubbles of flattery which breath could blow,—besides its being more really & effectually valuable to me. You were most kind in telling me your precise impression,—and if I did not agree with you in preferring the Seraphim to the Drama, you will understand that even in the case of my having no sort of ground for such a preference, it was natural for me to prefer my last composition, the one in the immediate fate of which I was interested. The ‘Seraphim,’ I see as it is,—as other readers see it,—but the new poem has a mist round it still, made of the excitement of writing it in part, .. and in part, of the hopes attached to it. I am sincere however, just as you are,—and do not conceal my belief that it is a better & maturer poem, although faulty more than enough. I think the whole two volumes, with all their faults, worth twenty such books as I wrote before,—which is my honest belief, delusion or not. But what wd become of me if people conspired to tell me no truth but what sounded agreeably? Whom shd I trust? Where wd be my hope of advancing any step beyond? As to vanity, you wd be surprised, (if you cd see my thoughts) how unlike the feeling even of gratification, when the poems are praised, is, from vanity. It is different altogether. I love poetry too well, to love myself in it. Do you not believe that an architect wd have pleasure in building a church in a wilderness according to his inward sense of proportion & grace, though there should not be a spectator to applaud him? Or supposing such a spectator to be applauding, can you not believe that he might be glad of the applause simply as evidence of the success of his work, & not as a means of personal aggrandizement?
Did I tell you that Miss Martineau had promised & vowed to me to tell me the whole truth with respect to the poems? Her letter did not come until a few days ago, & for a full month after the publication; & I was so fearful of the probable sentence that my hands shook as they broke the seal. But such a pleasant letter!! I have been overjoyed with it. She says that her “predominant impression is of the originality”—very pleasant to hear. I must not forget however to say that she complains of “want of variety” in the general effect of the drama, & that she “likes Lucifer less than anything in the two volumes.” You see how you have high backers. Still, she talks of “immense advances,”—which consoles me again. In fact, there is scarcely a word to require consolation, in her letter—and what did not please me least, .. nay, to do myself justice, what put all the rest out of my head for some minutes with joy, .. is the account she gives of herself. For she is better, & likely still to be better, .. she has recovered appetite & sleep, & lost the most threatening symptoms of disease,—she has been out for the first time for four years & a half, .. lying on the grass flat, she says, with my books open beside her day after day.!– (That does sound vain of me,—but I cannot resist the temptation of writing it!) And the means, .. the means!– Such means you wd never divine! It is Mesmerism. She is thrown into the magnetic trance twice a day,—and the progress is manifest,—& the hope for the future, clear. Now, what do you both think!– Consider what a case it is! No case of a weakminded woman & a nervous affection,—but of the most manlike woman in the three kingdoms, .. in the best sense of man—a woman gifted with admirable fortitude, as well as exercised in high logic—a woman of sensibility & of imagination, certainly, but apt to carry her reason unbent wherever she sets her foot,—given to utilitarian philosophy & the habit of logical analysis,—& suffering under a disease which has induced change of structure & yielded to no tried remedy!–— Is it not wonderful—& past expectation?– She suggests that I shd try the means—but I understand that in cases like mine, the remedy has done harm instead of good, by over-exciting the system. But her experience will settle the question of the reality of magnetism, with a whole generation of infidels. For my own part, I have long been a believer in spite of Papa– Then I have had very kind letters from Mrs Jameson, the “Ennuyée,” [2] & from Mr Serjeant Talfourd, [3] & some less famous persons. And a poet with a Welch name wrote to me yesterday to say that he was writing a poem “similar to my Drama of Exile,” & begged me to subscribe to it. [4] Now I tell you all this, to make you smile, .. & because some of it will interest you more gravely. It will prove to dear unjust Mr Martin that I do not distrust your sympathy. How cD he think so of me? I am half vexed that he shd think so!– Indeed, indeed I am not so morbidly vain. Why if you had told me that the books were without any sort of value in your eyes, do you imagine that I shd not have valued you, reverenced you ever after for your truth, .. so sacred a thing in Friendship … I really believe it wd have been my predominant feeling. But you proved your truth without trying me so hardly,—I had both truth & praise from you .. & surely quite enough, & more than enough, as many wd think, of the latter.
My dearest Papa left us this morning to go for a few days into Cornwall for the purpose of examining a quarry in which he has bought or is about to buy shares [5] —& he means to strike on for the Lands End & to see Falmouth before he returns. It depresses me to think of his being away,—his presence or the sense of his nearness having so much cheering & soothing influence with me—but it will be an excellent change for him, even if he does not as he expects, dig an immense fortune out of the quarries.
George & I shake our heads gravely at your not seeming to think of a continental plan for the winter. People who have the wings of a dove, [6] never do, I observe, fly away. Consider the winter to come, & be wise, both of you– A winter in Herefordshire is about three times as cold as a winter in London wd be,—& even the latter is worth flying from, according to my impression. When you were at Clifton, did you see Mr Eagles? Do you know him at all? Mr Kenyon intended to spend two days there, & one at Bath with Mr Landor, & perhaps you saw him in a vision, during your stay.
Wales appears to me too cold to visit it so late in the year, without being, as I fear dear Mr Martin is not yet, of a mountainous strength of habit.
Now I do not mean to write any more. May God bless you both. Write & tell me dearest Mrs Martin, that you had a pleasant visit at Clifton & are, each of you, the better for it.
Your affectionate & ever obliged
Ba.
No news yet from the voyagers [7] —but the post is very irregular I understand–
Publication: LEBB, I, 196–198 (in part, as ca. September 1844).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Dated by reference to Miss Martineau’s letter of 16 September (no. 1717).
2. The Diary of an Ennuyée by Mrs. Jameson was published in 1826. It had previously been published anonymously as A Lady’s Diary.
3. See letter 1714 for extracts from EBB’s response to Talfourd.
4. Owen Howell, as identified by EBB in letter 1724.
5. Green Delabole Slate Quarries, St. Teath, Cornwall. Edward Moulton-Barrett owned 10 share of 400 sold which were transferred to him on 26 August 1844.
6. Cf. Psalms 55:6.
7. EBB’s brothers, Stormie and Henry, sailing to Egypt on their father’s ship Statira.
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