2378. RB to EBB
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 12, 352–353.
[London]
Sunday Mg [24 May 1846] [1]
My own Ba is entreated to observe, that when she sends me reviews about herself, and songs by herself; and a make-weight book about “Junius” happens to be sent also .. I do not ordinarily plunge into the Junius’-discussion at once [2] —perhaps from having made up my mind that the Author is Miss Campbell:—at all events, while the review was read and re-read and the music done justice and injustice to, the Junius was opened for the first time this morning, at eight of the clock, and Ba’s letter which lay between pages 16 and 17, “came to hand”—was brought to me by my mother, from my father,—but for whose lucky inspiration of curiosity the said note had perhaps lain shut in till the book’s secret was found out .. certainly I should never have touched the book before then! And from this note, duly studied, I learn that yesterday I must have appeared to Ba touched by a general mental paralysis—inasmuch as I was surprised, over and above the joyfulness, to hear that she was in the Park on Thursday, as well as Friday .. (oh, I know the letter I did receive mentioned it, but it seems as if one of the two excursions were unrecorded)—and seeing that I enquired whether Ba had heard with her own ears the song .. and altogether omitted thanking her for the gift of it,—and lastly, brought no “Statesmen”, even on Ba’s request!– Of all which matters I ought to have been made acquainted by the note: what must you think of me, you Ba,—dearest-dearest, that expect me to know the face thro’ the bonnet, and the letter thro’ the book covers—(Ba sitting in the Bookseller’s shop was a type, I see!)– What did you think of me yesterday, I want to know?
Well, and now my letter does come I thank you—(for all the trouble this precedent will give me—next time a parcel comes—of poking into all impossible places to see and to see!) You are the dearest, dearest, impossibly dear Ba that heart ever adored, “And the roses which thou strowest, all the cheerful way thou goest, would direct to follow thee,” [3] as Shirley sings—and every now and then the full sense of the sweetness collects itself and overcomes me entirely, as now, on the occasion of this note that I find,—I am blessed by you in the hundred unspeakable ways—but were it only for this and similar pure kindnesses, I find it in my heart to give you my life could it profit you! Here ought I, by every law and right and propriety .. ask Miss Campbell! .. to be ministering to you, caring for you,—and .. oh, Ba, do please, please, throw a coffee cup at me! [4] —(giving some grounds for complaint!)—and after it the soucoupe (“glaring with saucer eyes”)—and see what you shall see, and hear what you shall hear! You “strongest woman that has written yet”! [5] Have they found that out? I know it, I think, by this! So I will go and think over it in the garden, and tell you more in the afternoon.
12 o clock/—What strange weather!—but pleasant, I think—you have been out, or will go out, perhaps. Tell me all, dearest, and how you feel after it. To-morrow I will send you the Review and some of the other books you have spoken of from time to time—but, I almost dare to keep the “Statesmen,” [6] spite of your positive request. Why, dear, want to see what I desire to forget altogether? So of my other poems, “Sordello” &c.—I most unaffectedly shudder at the notion of your reading them, as I said yesterday. My poetry is far from the “completest expression of my being” [7] – I hate to refer to it, or I could tell you why, wherefore, .. prove how imperfect (for a mild word), how unsatisfactory it must of necessity be. Still, I should not so much object, if, such as it is, it were the best, the flower of my life .. but that is all to come, and thro’ you, mainly, or more certainly. So will it not be better to let me write one last poem this summer,—quite easily, stringing every day’s thoughts instead of letting them fall,—and laying them at the dear feet at the summer’s end for a memorial? I have been almost determining to do this, or try to do it, as I walked in the garden just now. A poem to publish or not to publish,—but a proper introduction to the after-work. What do you think, my Ba, my dearest siren, and muse, and Mistress, and .. something beyond all, above all and better .. shall I do this? And what are you studying about Amalfi, my Ba? Will you please keep that Naples’ Note-book till I ask for it—at Amalfi! Till holy church incorporate two in one, [8] —and I take the degree of my aspiration. Rt Bg B.A.—in earnest of which, kiss me dear, “earnest, most earnest of poets,” and let me kiss you as I do .. loving you as I love you. Bless you, best and dearest.
RB
Address: Miss Barrett, / 50. Wimpole Street.
Postmark: 10FN10 MY25 1846 A.
Docket, in EBB’s hand: 190.
Publication: RB-EBB, pp. 724–726.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Date provided by postmark.
3. Cf. James Shirley, The Triumph of Peace (1633), Song 3, lines 4–6. See letter 1533 (and its note 11) in which RB suggested this as a motto for Mrs. Jameson in Horne’s A New Spirit of the Age.
4. A humorous allusion to EBB’s anecdote in letter 2372.
5. RB is quoting from the review in The Methodist Quarterly Review (see letter 2361, note 2).
7. In the preface to Poems (1844), EBB wrote: “I have done my work, so far, as work,—not as mere hand and head work, apart from the personal being,—but as the completest expression of that being, to which I could attain.”
8. Romeo and Juliet, II, 6, 37.
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