1414. EBB to Mary Minto
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 8, 15–17.
Wimpole Street–
Monday [30] Oct– 1843. [1]
I am sure you have forgiven me, dearest Mary, for this delay of a few days in replying to your letter, on the ground that I had a great deal of writing to do last week & cannot without fatigue, write very long together. This I begged Henrietta to explain for me, and now I am going to speak for myself, with that degree of fulness & candour, which is my only way of deserving the confidence reposed in me by your young friend. [2]
In the first place I must assure her through you, of my sincere sympathy in tendencies & views, the progressing power of which I so perfectly understand; & my earnest wishes, that whether her love of letters shall prove in the end, to her, a private pleasure or a public distinction, it still may be the occasion of pleasure .. & not pain … of congratulation, & not regret– I do not dissuade her, as you anticipate, from her intention to endeavour at public distinction,—but I do venture to suggest, by force of the interest with which she inspires me, that she shd count the cost well, .. and above all things, not attempt to publish until she is ready to pay the price. I do not think that her poems as they appear at present, wd be successful. I have read them with attention,—& I am of opinion that with much softness & fluency in the versification, & with sweetness & sanctity in the sentiments, there is an immaturity,—a want of character & substance in them,—a want, in fact, of that originality, which expresses the individuality of the writer, & is the only sure handle upon the public. By originality, I do not mean mannerism or peculiarity of language—for I am far from wishing to recommend to others, what has been the occasion to myself of reproaches. I mean by originality, that true expression of the individual nature of the writer, which is opposed to unconscious repetition of the experience of other writers, .. so common with young authors, &, I am sorry to say, with authors of all ages. For instance, I wd affectionately entreat your “young dreamer,” (as you call her)—in the name of the holy reality of Sorrow,—not to give way to a fashion & habit of despondent writing which drives the sun out of God’s world, & was rendered current by Ld Byron. Apart from the question whether it is not the right office of Genius to increase the light rather than to widen the darkness,—it is necessary for a poet to write from knowledge & not from habit & fancy: & Ld Byron wrote successfully, because out of the earnestness of his despondency, & not from that sentimental ideality which young writers are too often apt to mistake for an experience.
“I seem to feel a deathcold hand
For ever on my breast.” [3]
Is this your friend’s real experience? Is it true? I hope it is not true—she will forgive me for saying that I hope it is not true:—and she must try to forgive me for also saying that poetry is the intensest truth of nature,—& that to express the truth of his inward soul, is the business—& approves the original faculty of every true poet.
My humble advice to her is, that she shd not publish at present,—& that if she shd be resolved to try the strength of her faculty at whatever cost, she shd subject herself to the labour & discipline without which no artist can excel. I do not say .. she wd be a happier woman if she did not try it .. because my words wd probably be said in vain,—or perhaps said unwisely,—I do not know. But I take courage from my interest in her, to advise her to think more, to read more, & dream somewhat less, .. to study hard our English poets, & even prose writers of the graver reasoning order, … to write with compression & concentration of meaning, <& more thoughts in proportion to the sentiments,> [4] .. to do all this before she publishes. It is a mistake to think that a true poet (whatever his gifts!) can sing like a bird; he must work on the contrary like an artist. We have Ld Byron’s & Wordsworth’s witness to this fact, that the study of a life is necessary to a poet’s excellence. Also nothing can be more unwise than to publish juvenile poems. The public does not care for the age of the writer, but blames the immaturity of the work. I wd willingly, myself, (since she thinks me worth naming) burn the very memory of my juvenile poems—and if this confession shd be of any use to another, it is the best fruit I shall have gathered, of an imprudence continually lamented by me.
And now I have finished saying the whole truth as it appears to me. If you had sent me, dear Mary, these same verses as the verses of a young lady who wrote only ‘for love’s sake,’ [5] —I shd have praised their softness, & the graceful amiableness which is in them, & said no more. But her views being towards the public, & my sincere opinion being asked, I have thought it right & kindest to speak the whole truth.
Will you tell her from me that if she decides against my impressions, & resolves on publication, and the public justifies her in doing so, no one will rejoice more sincerely than I shall, in being accounted wrong.
And now, my dear Mary, I thank you for your own kind words to me. I have not indeed forgotten you; and often when I think of those past days, which were better in brightness than any which now can be left to me, do I think of your joyous laugh & delightful music. A little time ago, you were going to be married, .. said a report,—but if it had been true, you wd have come to town, I suppose, to twine your orangeflowers. May you be happy dear Mary, under every circumstance!—may God bless you always! With my regards to Mrs Minto,
believe me
your affectionate
Elizabeth B Barrett–
or rather—Ba–
Address: Miss Minto.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Dated by the reference in the first paragraph to EBB’s having “a great deal of writing to do last week”; i.e., her papers for Horne on Wordsworth and Hunt.
2. Unidentified.
3. EBB is perhaps quoting Miss Minto’s friend.
4. Bracketed passage is inserted above the line.
5. Philemon, 1:9.
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