565. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 3, 240–243.
74 Gloucester Place.
May 2d 1836 [sic for 1837]–
Indeed dearest Miss Mitford, you never did write to me; for altho’ you may well doubt whether you did or not, I am not in the least likely to forget having received a letter of yours. I was beginning to be very troublesome to myself about you,—& to wonder whether I might risk being troublesome to you by writing again. If you knew what a builder of dungeons in the air I am! [1] no cloud is too black to be my cornerstone—& I am sure to begin the cloudy work when I dont hear about persons for whom I care much. This is not a reproach—only a confession. You are very kind indeed to write to me ever. Dont I feel the kindness? & have I not to thank you for an expression of it last week?–
And poor Dash is ill—or has been—for I do trust that by this time he is well again & you at ease about him. He is a mortal immortal dog—immortal in The Village, & mortal at Three Mile Cross– Long may he continue both! It is far too soon for him to become only immortal—like Cerberus. [2] Dont forget to tell me of him whenever you are so kind as to write to me again—& dont forget to tell your own self & Dr Mitford—if he is not your own self too—while you give him as much remembrance of mine as I dare to offer—that I sympathize with you in all that troubled you as to poor Dash. And dont let the Cynics [3] laugh at the dog-lovers—seeing that the philo-dogism (if the dog may stand as a representative of all the other “blessed living” [4] soulless things—) is far better & higher & holier than the philosophy. Do not men dishonor their own natures in casting scorn upon the creations of their Creator?– Do they not inflict injury upon their own natures in staying the flowings-out of love towards the lowest & towards the Highest? How often does their love not flow at all—not downwardly to the animal, not upwardly to the Great Spirit!—but is comprehended & made stagnant within the narrow limits of their humanity. And after all, what is stagnant is impure: and God ‘worketh by Love’ [5] & purifieth by it. Now I am teazing you with all my doxies. You see I am trying to be rational & metaphysical (if those words do mean the same thing—& I hope they do) just to reconcile myself to the disappointment about Dr Mitford’s picture [6] which I might have seen, & shall not see! What if I shd see himself instead? I am a very hopeful person!– !– !– ——
As to Dash I shall certainly see his portrait, whenever I am able to go to the Royal Academy. [7] I have as yet been able to see only the exhibition in Suffolk Street—in which were only Hurlstone’s pictures which wd do to think of afterwards—or were worth wishing you away from the country to look at. His prisoner of Chillon appears to me to be a very very beautiful & touching & suggestive work– [8] If it were not the illustration of a poem, it wd produce one—or might! I was haunted whole days afterwards by the silent pathos of those eyes “as blue as Heaven”, [9] & yet sorrowful with earth! and I do wish that you wd leave the “black spring” and come & look at this shadow of the shadow of human suffering! A black spring does almost as well as a white one here! & perhaps is more appropriate, inasmuch as our Mays are associated with our chimney sweepers! Well! but the pictures. What struck me in this Suffolk St exhibition, was the want of conception & ideality—which is a serious want to people like me, who can understand & enjoy in a picture, nothing beside. But it is the defect of the age—is it not? It is terrible to be dragged captive, not by a King in purple & fine linen, [10] not by a Warrior in the glittering of his arms, but by a poor paltry counting-house Utilitarianism—along a rail road instead of a Via Sacra!– [11]
Dearest Miss Mitford! has the “foolish little volume” [12] any name? There is not an advertisement about it that I can find– And then—another question—is everybody who delights in the far-off sound of its approach, & is sure to be delighted with itself, “foolish” too!? If this be so .. woe to me! You do not mention Otto; & therefore I conclude that you have not made any arrangement with regard to him. I wait anxiously, yet confidently to hear of him. Do you observe that the author of Paracelsus is bringing out a tragedy at one of the theatres? [13] I admire his Paracelsus,—but cannot even guess how he will be quite wide awake enough from the peculiar mystic dreaminess, to write an historical tragedy. Yes! the extracts from Mrs Butler’s play, in the Athenæum, are very beautiful [14] —and so are some others which I have seen in another paper. Your observation on the plot is a true one! And yet half—at the least—of our miseries proceeds from our ignorances—and misery, as misery—without regard to its procession—will have sympathy, as long as we are men.
I have not lately seen a great deal of Mr Kenyon—but, you know, his kindness always comes where he comes at all. He must be, & is, much engaged just now with a crowd of the scientific who gather around their new magnet Mr Crosse. [15] Mr Crosse is staying with him. And Mr Conybeare [16] has been staying with him: and his brother has arrived from Vienna—which wd in itself be an absorption, without the insect-making from stones! Are you—or is Dr Mitford—understanding of these things? Papa will have it that I hold them in scorn—which I protest against & abjure! It is quite bad enough to be known to be ignorant, without being thought to be absurd!–
I must tell you a criticism upon you—& dont scorn that,—the critic being just ten years old & a great darling of mine. She is Mary Hunter, the little daughter of an Independent minister in Devonshire who is a man of high talent & cultivation, & was a kind & valued friend to us while we were there. And now for an extract from her letter—“I read today in a magazine a tale of Miss Mitford’s about the widow’s dog Chloe who was very faithful and would go back to the widow’s house. [17] If you do not know the story, I dare say she will tell it to you. I should like to know Miss Mitford very much—for her writings are so beautiful & affectionate,—and I think she would not dislike children.”
The doves are very well—to put them next to the children—but their nests, alas! are better than their eggs!
May God bless you my dear friend! Remember me among those who love you—for I do. The spring is growing whiter—is it not? And oh! is it not a mockery to “congratulate” me about the Spring? Which mockery is forgiven you, if you will but enjoy the sunshine & the flowers yourself. May Papa offer his regards to you?—and may I be forgiven this long unreasonable letter, for the sake of my being
Your affectionate
E B Barrett.
Addressed and franked by Robert Biddulph on integral page: London May three 1837 / Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / Reading / Robert Biddulph / [and by EBB, near seal:] Miss Mitford / Three Mile Cross / Near Reading.
Publication: EBB-MRM, I, 29–32.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. A reversal of “castles in the air,” to give the meaning of a dark fantasy rather than a bright one.
2. The three-headed dog guarding the entrance to Hades.
3. The school of philosophers founded by Antisthenes; they eschewed all the usual enjoyments of life. EBB probably intended a pun, as “cynic” derives from the Greek κυνός (dog).
4. Cf. Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, 282.
5. Galatians, 5:6.
6. Painted by John Lucas (1807–74) in the autumn of 1836.
7. Edwin Landseer had painted Miss Mitford’s dog, but this was not included in the works exhibited at the Royal Academy. EBB was probably misled by the inclusion in the catalogue of “Portrait of Dash” by James Ward (1769–1859), but this was not Miss Mitford’s Dash.
8. Frederick Yeates Hurlstone (1800–69) was president of the Society of British Artists from 1835 until his death. The exhibition mentioned by EBB included 14 of his paintings, one of which was “The Prisoner of Chillon,” illustrating Byron’s poem.
9. Line 75 of Byron’s 1816 poem.
10. Cf. Esther, 1:6.
11. “Holy Way,” one of the principal roads of Rome; it was the customary route for triumphal processions to the Capitol.
12. Country Stories, the publication of which was impending.
13. i.e., Strafford.
14. The Star of Seville by Frances Anne (“Fanny”) Butler (née Kemble, 1809–93), whom EBB later knew in Italy. The Athenæum of 15 April (no. 494, pp. 258–259), in giving extracts from the play, had praised it as “full of poetical beauties—strongly marked with originality … of thought.”
15. Andrew Crosse (1784–1855), scientist, was a friend of John Kenyon. He had stirred up much controversy in 1837, when, in the course of experiments on electro-crystallization, he had observed the appearance of insect life of the genus Acarus. On making public this discovery, Crosse “met with so much virulence and abuse … that it seems as if it were a crime to have made them” (DNB).
16. William Daniel Conybeare (1787–1857), geologist and Fellow of the Royal Society.
17. “The Widow’s Dog” was included in Country Stories. We have been unable to find a prior magazine publication.
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