1366. EBB to Richard Hengist Horne
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 7, 301–302.
[London]
August 31. 1843.
Ah, my dear Mr Horne, while you are praising the weather, .. stroking the sleek sunshine, .. it has been not exactly killing me, but striking me vigorously with intent to kill. It was intensely hot, & I went out in the chair, & was over-excited & overtired I suppose; at least the next day I was ill, shivering in the sun, & lapsing into a weakness it is not easy for me to rally from. Yet everybody has been ill—which, in the way of pure benevolence, ought to be a comfort to me—& now I am well again. And the weather is certainly lovely & bright by fits, & I join you in praising the beauty & glory of it: but then you must admit that the fits .. the spasmodic changes of the temperature from sixty one degrees to eighty one & back again,—are trying to mortal frames, more especially to those conscious of the frailty of the “native mud” [1] in them. If I had the wings of a dove [2] & could flee away to the “south of France,” I shd be cooing peradventure instead of moaning. Only I could not leave anything—even then! I must stay as well as go .. under my circumstances, .. dove or woman.
By the way, two of my brothers are on the Rhine at this moment. They have gone to my pain & pleasure, to see Geneva & come home at the end of six weeks, by Paris, to re-plunge (one of them) into Law–
It pleases me to think of dear Miss Mitford reading my ‘House of clouds’ to you with “her melodious feeling for poetry,” & the sweeter melody of her kindliness—& it moreover pleases me to know that you liked it in any measure. To show the difference of possible opinions .. Mr Boyd told me that “he had read my papers on the Greek fathers with the more satisfaction because he had inferred from my ‘House of clouds,’ that illness had impaired my faculties.” Ah—but I hope to do something yet, better than the past! I hope, & shall struggle to it.
I have had a great pleasure lately in some correspondence with Miss Martineau, the noblest female Intelligence between the seas .. “As sweet as spring, as ocean deep.” [3] She is in a hopeless anguish of body & serene triumph of spirit,—with at once no hope, & all hope! To hear from her was both pleasure & honor to me.
Last week a voice spake to me out of a beautiful smile– “Ask Mr Horne if he has given me up for ever! and tell him that I live still in Edwardes Square.” [4]
Very truly yours
Elizabeth B Barrett.
Yes, my Flush is a son of Miss Mitford’s Flush.
Address: R H Horne Esqr / 38. Finsbury Square.
Publication: EBB-RHH, I, 82–85.
Manuscript: Pierpont Morgan Library.
1. Byron, Don Juan, XI, xiii, 6.
2. Cf. Psalms, 55:6.
3. Wordsworth, “Extempore Effusion Upon the Death of James Hogg” (1835), line 38.
4. i.e., Mrs. Orme, who lived at no. 36, Edwardes Square.
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