706. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 4, 184–187.
Torquay.
August 11th 1839.
I am so grieved my beloved friend, that the anxiety about dear Dr Mitford shd have returned under any form & alleviation––even as the light shadow of what once it was. When you are least beset with occupation, do let me learn by a word whether he is better—and in the meantime it has come into my head that he might like a little fish with the cream,—no!—not exactly with it!——“tho’ by your smiling you seem to say so”. [1] God grant that ere this your fear may be in blackletter. [2] To fluctuations all convalescents are exposed—particularly during the present summer’s variable weather,—& I do hope & trust my dearest Miss Mitford that it is a mere fluctuation.
Thank you again & again for your delightful letter about Mr Webster, [3] —so nobly toned from your own heart!– I do like to read such letters—but I cannot say more, in my haste today, of yours, than that if I were to confess my ignorance until very lately, about him of the American senate, you wd be sure to despise me very much. The first orator in the world, I think you call him—“except another Daniel.” Do you mean Mr O’Connell? Oh! surely if he is a great orator, he must be the height of the sky above Mr O’Connell. Do you seriously consider Mr O Connell to be a great orator? Try to forgive a little astonishment. I disarm you by confessing my ignorance. I never heard him speak & seldom read his speeches—& when I do, my doxy is that Mr Shiel is a greater orator than Mr O Connell, [4] & that strictly speaking nothing oratorically great belongs to either of them.
I have read Mr Chorley’s Lion [5] —and if we of the multitude, we of the literary laity, dared to remark upon persons set in authority over us, I shd wish the election a hundred books off, & more unity,—or rather more of that composure which arises from the sense of unity,—throughout the work. But it is a work highly indicative of ability—of an ability to come, as well as present—brilliant with allusion, yet not too dazzling to think by. A great part of the first volume & the greater part of the third struck & interested me much—only the Robin of the opening is too good for the Robin of the close—surely he is. [6] Why at this rate, Edwin, Beattie’s Edwin might have turned into a Lion—“and yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy” [7] —and that I never will believe. Put him into a menagerie & feed him as you will, the poor little giraffe & he wd die together!——
The coteries must be very close offensive menageries,—& I am glad that I have none of their dust to shake from my feet. [8] But oh, dearest Miss Mitford if you were to shrive me & find out what a strong heart I have for making pilgrimages to certain shrines, & what impulses to lionizing hang about me, you wd be ashamed of me—you wd indeed. When I was between child & woman I prayed & teazed a dear old friend of ours into taking a long hot disagreeable walk in London (I happened to be there for a short time) just to look at Campbell’s house––& I did just see the red curtains in the dining room, & with full contentment of heart––while my companion half amused & half annoyed declared over & over again that I was “such a child”––as if that was all to be said for me. And really I am just “such a child” at this moment– Mr Kenyon would not believe that I cared about the autographs he brought me [9] —he was sure that I was taking him in, & wanted them for a blaze. But the religion of genius, or you will say the superstition, is over me still. My organ of veneration is as large as a Welsh mountain. [10] I cd kiss the footsteps of a great man—or woman either—& feel higher for the stooping. Now make allowances for me. I was never in literary society, & have not learnt the difference between books & the men who made them—or the distinctive signs by which you know a genius from an angel––I suppose there are some–
Mr Chorley’s Sea port town was brought to me a little while ago—but not as Mr Chorley’s. [11] Henrietta brought it from the circulating library– The librarian had recommended it!—& I am so forced to be dumb & to abstain from continuous attention to grave subjects, that amusing books of the class to which it belongs are necessary to me sometimes. Well! I did not like the name of the book—& was turning listlessly to the title page with the words “I cant read this”,—when there, was Mr Chorley’s name! Of course I cd read it immediately,—& was much struck by the power it indicated, & the constructiveness of the stories—a rare characteristic, even in these story telling days.
All this time, not a word of Costanza! Will you tell the authoress whom I do seem to know, that the “Ecclipse” steampacket broke its boiler on purpose not to mar her volume by the evil omen of its name, & that the book came here by the “James”!—a sailing vessel. [12]
How true is what you say of it!—I mean of the book. Gentle & pure—& then you feel her youthfulness all through it! [13] I have sent a little note which you will kindly let her have when she next comes to see you—& do impress upon her my sense of the kindness of the gift of her poem, & my hope of knowing her personally & her beautiful drawings too—one day.
What a singular imitative impulse is upon Mr Reade. Ld Byron’s Cain Childe Harold & Heaven & Earth!—& now, is this Ben Jonson’s Catiline? I have not seen the play. Have you? But it is singular that with rare Ben before his eyes any man shd dare to write a play & call it Catiline!– [14] “Can such things be?”– [15]
You did not mind writing to Mr Horne my beloved friend? And I do hope that everything by this time is settled with him & Mr Procter too.
And now I want to say one word– You told me of having made arrangements for the reception of four poems. Therefore, in the case of Mr Procter’s doing what I earnestly trust he may do for you, [16] I very much wish that you would put my ballad away. You have received it with far too great kindness—& that kindness is guerdon enough for the writing, if it went into the fire instead of the press. Now consider my beloved friend—& dont injure the book or annoy anybody in connection with it “for love of me”. [17] Rather prove the love by dealing with me as if I belonged to you, & waiving all ceremony of hesitation. The Messrs Tilt may expect to see only four poems—& as I have written for the tableaux two successive years already, you will be the better for the loss of me—for variety’s sake … we will put it so if you please, out of tenderness to my vanity.
God bless & keep you my ever dearest & kindest Miss Mitford!—& all dearest to you!
Your attached & grateful
Elizabeth B Barrett.
Between my physician & my maid I did what is called walking (by courtesy) a few days ago—about three yards of it—& I am better. Arabel is not come–
Publication: EBB-MRM, I, 144–147.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Hamlet, II, 2, 309–310.
2. i.e., superseded, as Gothic (blackletter) type in early printing gave way to Roman type face.
3. Daniel Webster (1782–1852), American statesman and member of Congress, had visited Miss Mitford on 18 July, in the company of John Kenyon. (See Life of Daniel Webster, II, 24, 26–27, by George Ticknor Curtis.)
4. As previously noted, EBB did not share Miss Mitford’s admiration of Daniel O’Connell. Richard Lalor Sheil (1791–1851), dramatist and politician, had disagreed with his countryman, O’Connell, over the timing of Catholic emancipation.
5. The Lion, a Tale of the Coteries had just been published.
6. In the early part of The Lion, Robin Brandon is lauded as a successful poet; at its conclusion he becomes ill, after being humiliated when his play is laughed off the stage at its first performance.
7. Bk. I, xvi, 1 of The Minstrel (1771) by James Beattie (1735–1803). In the poem, Edwin is the child of a simple shepherd and his wife.
8. Cf. Matthew, 10:14.
9. EBB collected autographs, enlarging her collection by exchanging duplicates with friends. Letter 249 mentions an offer to exchange Campbell’s autograph.
10. A reference to the Welsh penchant for exaggeration.
11. His Sketches of a Sea Port Town was published in 1834.
12. See letter 705, note 3.
13. The Athenæum of 10 August (no. 615, p. 594) said “‘Costanza of Mistra’ is a poem of some pretension, coming before us in all the dignity of five cantos, and Spenser’s measure … if the author will be advised by us, he will repose upon his laurels. We scarcely think him likely to add to his fame by any future attempt.”
14. Reade was much criticized for his imitative style, Byron being his principal model. His Cain, the Wanderer (1829), Italy (1838) and The Deluge (1839) paralleled Cain: A Mystery; Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage; and Heaven and Earth. His latest work, Catiline; or, The Roman Conspiracy (1839), was inspired by Jonson’s play, Catiline His Conspiracy (1611). “Rare Ben” is a reference to the epitaph, “O rare Ben Jonson,” carved above his tomb in Westminster Abbey.
15. Macbeth, III, 4, 109.
16. Procter (Barry Cornwall) did contribute a poem, “Venice,” to Findens’ Tableaux.
17. Tennyson’s “The Mermaid” (last line of verses two and three).
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