337. EBB to Hugh Stuart Boyd
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 2, 195–197.
Hope End.
May 16th 1829
My dear Mr Boyd,
I have actually & absolutely finished the seven hundred & thirty one lines of Gregory Nazianzen’s poem In laudem virginitatis. It will be impossible for me to forget the exact number, as long as I live! I began the poem with the very best intentions of being pleased & interested. At the end of two hundred lines, my Patience became restless & uncomfortable, but took courage & toiled on; & then grew feverish & spasmodically affected,—& finally sank under accumulations of dulness & dryness & heaviness & tediousness & lengthiness, between the 400th & 500th lines. The Coroner’s verdict is, wilful murder, against H. S. Boyd, Esqr. The next two hundred & thirty one lines were read posthumously, as far as regards Patience: and yet, out of the 231, it is right to except about fifty which are beautiful. Is it possible that you can admire the composition really & seriously; or was it an act of malice prepense, to make me read it? What have I done to deserve such an infliction? The work has no reasoning, & no imagination, saving a flash now & then to produce ‘darkness visible’: [1] “a little gloomy light, much like a shade.” [2] It has no profundity & no vivacity, no descriptiveness & no sentiment, no boldness of conception & no variety of expression. There is abuse for you! When I wrote last, I had not finished it, and I was determined not to let you see my opinion, until I had seen the utmost extent of my suffering. I admit that the poem has beautiful lines,—considering them separately,—not unfrequently; but it appears to me that the only beautiful passages of any length, are two towards the end: one begins, τι πλεον; υηεσσιν αναχλοαζουσι τοκηες [3] —& ends with κυδεος ιμειρεις, to δ'εμον κλεος ουκ επι γαιης. [4] The other begins a little lower down on the same page, with αλλα βαρεια πολλακι και νεονυμφον επι ζυγον ηλυθε μοιρη· [5] it is extremely beautiful, & reminds me of two passages in the Æthiopica. At line 460, there is this expression, θερηον ετι ζειουσα κονις, [6] which is like Gray’s “Even in their ashes live their wonted fires”. [7] Perhaps Gray went out of “Paradise” for the purpose of reading Gregory’s Panegyric upon single life. Of course I will look thro’ the other poems.
I have an advantage over you. I have heard a piano & harp & organ, without receiving the adjacent ideas of wood wire & harshness. You have an advantage over me. I never heard any scientific bell-ringing,—& have not the most remote knowledge of the meaning of grandsire trebles, triple Bobs Majores, & triple Bobs Maximi. If it were not for you & Dr Parr, I should doubt the application of those classical epithets to the unclassically sounding monosyllables before them; but, as it is,—I stand in their presence with as much silent reverence, as the Papists do before the chair of St Peter,—a relic sedulously preserved at Rome,—& upon which was discovered, a few years ago, the following inscription in Arabic characters, “There is no God but God, & Mahomet is his prophet.” Supposing that I ever go to see you again, I certainly will not go on Whit Monday,—because I would not be in your way for the world,—& would not have you out of the way, for little less!– And now to be serious. I am very fond of music, & can hear the harp piano & organ [‘]‘thumbed” “strummed” & “thumped,” in the execution of a fine composition, for two or three hours together, with great satisfaction. I think that when the human voice “marries immortal verse” [8] to the sounds produced by these instruments, aural sensations become purified & elevated into sentiments. Bells of the finest tone “please the ear”: they do not “move the heart”—at least not mine; yours may be more locomotive. Therefore I have two objections to your planting the palm in the church yard. 1st No bells can play Handel. 2d No bells can accompany poetry. Did you ever hear of any words being set to any set of bells,—except the immortal words “Ding Dong”?
I dare say I am wrong in all this,—& if I am, what a pity it is that Collins was wrong too! Imagine his ode on the Passions, [9] with the scene changed to the Belfry! Give the Passions “rope enough”—& what an effect the “long pull & strong pull” would produce! He could not indeed make “Madness rule the hour”,—unless the bells were cracked, which would frighten “Music, Heavenly Maid,” out of her wits. But he need not dismiss any other personage. Anger’s “rude clash”, & Despair’s “low solemn sounds,” would do very well; & Hope might “call on Echo still”—& I should admire Melancholy’s “tones by distance made more sweet”, above all the rest.
“Thy numbers, Jealousy, to naught were fixed”,—
so Jealousy would be very clever & scientific at ringing changes; and Fear might ring an alarm bell,—& Joy & Cheerfulness, a dinner bell. Do you approve of my disposition of the Dramatis personæ,—or are you thinking of sending me a cap & bells by the first conveyance?
I had a very obliging letter from Mr Barker yesterday, to tell me that he had lent my poems to the Bishop of Limerick who was indulgent in his opinion of them, & intended to send me his sermons. I mention this to you, because I cannot feel gratified by the circumstance, without remembering to whom I must feel grateful. Directly & indirectly, I owe you far too much to pay; and if I do not often speak of my obligations to you, it is not that I do not often think of them,—but that you have seemed to desire me to be silent. Do you suppose that you have banished them from my memory & my feelings? Neither you, nor I, could effect that.
I have been anxious & provoked (as usual) about going to see you; & earnestly wish & hope to be able to accomplish it soon. You will not be angry at what I have said about Gregory,—& at my nonsense about the bells. You know, you are not so easily “offended” as I am!
Ever your sincere friend
E B Barrett.
My best regards to Mrs & Miss Boyd. I hope they are quite well.
Good accounts from London—& Papa still there. He does not say a word of returning.
Address, on integral page: Hugh Stuart Boyd Esqr / Great Malvern.
Docket, in unidentified hand: May 16. 1829.
Publication: EBB-HSB, pp. 70–73 (in part).
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Paradise Lost, I, 63.
2. Cf. Spenser, Fairie Queene, I, i, 14, 5.
3. “What use is it for parents to raise up sons?” (“In laudem virginitatis,” 592).
4. “… of renown; but you desire my fame not in this world” (op. cit., 622).
5. “But heavy Fate came frequently upon the newly-married couple” (op. cit., 630–631).
6. “The dust still fiery hot thereon” (op. cit., 460).
7. Cf. “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” line 92.
8. Milton, “L’Allegro,” line 137.
9. William Collins (1721–59), “The Passions: An Ode for Music” (Odes on Several Subjects, 1746, pp. 46–52). The several quotations in the following sentences are taken from, or based on, this poem.
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