970. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 6, 5–7.
[London]
[3 June 1842] [1]
<***> you .. & expose yourself to all the natural & seasonable possibilities of being serene. And dearest dearest friend, do shut out of sight & thought, that bad thought of your life being useless to all except one!– I have thought over & over again that you loved me & thought of me better than I deserved—& now I think you do it worse than I deserve. I am quite sure that I do not deserve to be left in the unhappy majority said not to be careful for your life. Is not your life dear to me—precious to me—beyond what words—nay, or tears either can clearly say?– Ah—you did not mean all the force of “that vile phrase”. [2] And I do not mean to reproach you for the sort of unkindness, which in this mortal world will rise to the lips of the kindest, through that which is in no wise unkind .. too much sadness!– May God bless you & comfort you my kindest & dearest friend!–
And now I am liking to think of you as established in your garden room, in sight of the beautiful furniture of Nature’s placing & hanging & coloring, whether of flower or bough. How I long to see you—though in a dream! I wd give a waking day of most other pleasures for such a dream as that. The coming here, the seeing you here, is not however one of them. I cd not willingly forgo seeing you here—& perhaps shall have to do so against my will—for you do not open a crevice of hope—nor a keyhole! Well! it is not to teaze that I talk of it, but only to show to you that I think of it—in part—and in part, that I cant help it. The fulness of heart you know, makes people talkative. [3] What makes them hopeful?– That is less obvious—but perhaps the fulness of the heart too! At any rate I do hope on about seeing you here this summer.
Mr Kenyon has not been here for a fortnight—although I invited him to come & hear my Æolian harp. My Æolian harp. Because I admired it, Papa gave it to me,—so that the winds have to pay me now in music for all the harm they have done me hitherto. Winds! I am a pretty person to talk about winds—I who have been gasping the whole morning through for lack of a breath, the thermometer witnessing to 76. Why I shd be glad now for the verriest east wind, only to breathe by its sweet grace. There never was much hotter weather in England!– Even Papa whose ideal of a temperature is taken from an oven, & who envies in his inmost soul every penny roll on the breakfast table .... even Papa admitted last night that .... ‘the tea was too hot.’ Those were the precise terms of his complaint! Not a sigh against the sun, for the world tho’ it were baking—only against the tea because it was boiling! I said simply “That is a triumph”.
In the pause between these paragraphs I have been helping Flushie to his bread & butter & cream cheese, .. & now he is gone to his task of local discovery (I have moved yesterday & today for the afternoon into Papa’s bedroom to which there is a communicating door with mine) walking backwards & forwards & round & round & smelling with philosophic subtlety at every chair & table. He clearly does not like it as well as my room. He wishes himself & me well out of it. He e[s]chews his place upon the sofa, & does not consider it safe to settle any where. Poor Flushie! If you cd but have seen him as I was moving! how when I stopped to rest, he threw himself upon me in a passion of condolements & kisses .. & how he followed closely & anxiously every step, ending all by another layer of kisses! He clearly disapproves the whole arrangement, from the first to the last—& now to declare his opinion openly & be conscience-free of the least responsibility, he has stretched himself on the floor. It is an expressive gesture!–
Yes, my dearest friend—yes & no! No, I have’nt read Gosippers [4] —& yes, I will. I have sent for it these three times to Saunders & Ottley, & must buy it, I rather think if I wish ever to behold it. And that shall be done.
Yes! besides, to Emerson’s letters. Or rather, yes, to the letters, & ‘no’ to Carlyle’s preface—because I read the American edition. [5] Mr Kenyon lent the book to me, the book belonging to Mr Crabbe Robinson whose hair stood on end when he heard of its being lent to me! [6] “Why” he said “that book is too stiff even for myself—and I am not very orthodox.”– In fact the book, for all its cold calm air of philosophy—most inhumanly serene—is very extravagant in some of its views. It sets about destroying (& this is a sufficient symptom of extravagance) the personality of every person, & speaks of the Deity as of a great Background to which every created individual forms a little porch!!! [7] For the rest, there are beautiful & noble thoughts in the book, beautifully & nobly said. The chapter upon Love is very fine. [8] Do tell me, if this Emerson crosses your path, what you think of him. Miss James asked of my thought instead of yours, just, I suppose, because she knew of my Carlyleship & because Carlyle has taken him up. But as it happened Carlyle’s introduction is precisely & only what I have not read of the volume in question.
Think of Flushie’s being dreadfully jealous of the Æolian harp! He heard me say “Beautiful beautiful” (a word sacred to his ears) & squeezed quite close to me & tried every possible means of re-awakening me to a sense of his surpassing merits. Is not that amusing?
Ever & ever your EBB.
Publication: EBB-MRM, I, 420–422 (as [?4] [June 1842]).
Manuscript: Fitzwilliam Museum, Folger Shakespeare Library, and Wellesley College.
1. Dated by repetition of the references in the previous two letters to the day’s temperature and the gift of an Æolian harp.
2. Hamlet, II, 2, 111. In this and subsequent Shakespearean quotations, the line numbers correspond to those used in The Riverside Shakespeare (Boston, 1974).
3. Cf. Luke, 6:45.
4. The Neighbours: A Story of Every-Day Life (1842) was a translation by Mary Howitt of Grannarna (1837), a novel by the Swedish writer Fredrika Bremer (1801–65).
5. At this time, no edition of Emerson’s letters had been published; EBB must mean his Essays: First Series (Boston, 1841). The English edition, with a preface by Carlyle, was also published in 1841.
6. See letter 934 for EBB’s earlier report of Crabb Robinson’s reaction.
7. EBB had made similar comments in letter 934; she is probably thinking particularly of “Spiritual Laws” (Essay IV) which speaks of “a soul at the centre of nature, and over the will of man,” and of “The Over-Soul” (Essay IX). Carlyle observed that “we hear much of the ‘universal soul’” (preface, p. x), and The Athenæum spoke of Emerson’s denial of man’s individuality (see letter 934, note 4).
8. Essay V.
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