3952. Thomas Woolner to EBB
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 23, 188–193.
27 Rutland Street N.W.
Jan. 1. 1857.
My dear Mrs Browning,
I think the first evening of the new year cannot be more properly devoted than in thanking you for your present of Aurora Leigh, [1] which I shall always esteem as one of my most precious possessions. It is easy enough to thank you for a copy of the work, but how to do so for having written such a wonderful book!—that is my difficulty. I should have paid my debt of gratitude long ago but for this. [2] Were I to write all that I have thought and felt upon the subject, you would think me such a wild rhapsodical mortal that I tremble to think of it; still worse were I to attempt summing my amount of pleasure and gain, for this reason, and for that, so—and thus &c. for it would be utterly impossible to give any kind of just notion this way: as well attempt describing the effects of sunshine upon the earth; and it seems to me to be most modest that I should enjoy its virtues gratefully in silence that they may grow within me, gladdening and strengthening my daily life. I have this feeling so deeply rooted that I do not like to talk much of the book, and I always feel this for what is most precious and sacred to me and think such things ought to be concealed, as the heart, which feeds the brain and limbs with energy, is itself hidden darkly within circles of bone and wrappages of flesh.
I wish I could tell you what I think of the magnificent language of the book which seems to me more like the essence—the very soul of the things talked of than sounds arranged to correspond with other sounds in our minds that represent certain definite ideas: I have met with passages that absolutely startle me with the perfect way in which thoughts I should have imagined inexpressible are rendered,—and sometimes the music of them sadden[s] me, as I have known the wind to do in rare chances when sighing in lonely places. A friend writing to me a few days ago speaking of the writing merely calls it “superb,” and makes other poets seem parched and poor: [3] he is a man who knows well what he is talking of. I do not know what to compare the language to; it flows like a river thro a rich land; within it the little weeds and wildflowers as well as the high mountains can behold their own images,—carrying the shadows of storms and daylight splendors on to the great ocean.
I must tell you how I admire the beautiful and vital similes throughout the whole work: I always have a peculiar liking for good ones; they are like jewels upon a robe, or rather the colors to a regiment and serve as centre and rallying point to a body of ideas: but most of all they are like the blossoms of a tree, beautiful, and pregnant with the germs of fruit and seed.
I do not think anything could be more complete than the way you have worked out all the characters: those that are but slightly touched so far as they go are as thoroughly done as the most elaborate ones, even if they have but a few lines devoted to each. I cannot say which part I liked most to read, the reflections upon our social state, the lofty views of art, the analyses of motives and human character, the severe strugglings of the spirit in its upward journey or the wonderful descriptions of nature in its infinite aspects, to say what I think of all these would make a letter dull as a criticism in a review; I think the part I have most frequently read at present is the story of Marian Erle. I think of her more as human creature whom I have known in life than as a daughter of your imagination; some of the incidents in her life have wrung my heart with more pain than I have felt for a dweller in the spirit-world for many years, and I know that there are thousands now and will be in the time to come who will deeply bless your sympathy, and love you for the tenderness and sweet womanly love you feel for the poor, scorned and oppressed.
I have mentioned my delight in the diction of Aurora Leigh, in the keen delineation of character, the perfection of the similes, the lofty views of Art and social questions: and various other characteristics of equal importance I could name, but what beyond all other qualities claim my inmost reverence are the large sympathies and glorious inspiration throughout the book, which descend and show in their significance the humblest and most despised objects and thread with clear purpose the intricately perplexed ways of men, then as it were with a great cry of gladness lift up all the thronging hopes of our souls beyond the stars and beyond the fartherest stretch of thought & certainty and to that light which is everlasting love. I fear that I do not make my meaning clear but I feel in every line that the flesh is burnt up and the spirit stands clear and manifest; and being so I treasure the book as another glorious chain binding our existence with immortality. I feel almost ashamed to have written so much to so little purpose, but must say in conclusion, that I rejoice in the work as much as it is possible you could wish any human being would; and altho your mind lives in a state far beyond the mere love of being praised, still, no one more than yourself can desire to see your labors effect the good for which they were undertaken.
I am delighted to say that plenty of my friends have just the same pleasure in the book and reverence for it that I have: I dare say they have written to you long ere this, but I must tell you how much the Tennysons were gladdened: Mrs Tennyson wrote to me upon it in the most joyful strain saying what happiness it gave her and her husband who was then reading it to her. [4] The Rossettis are entranced, and Gabriel says Ruskin quite raves but unfortunately he is not quite to be relied on, for not long ago he praised a watch-maker who drivelled verses named Bennett. [5] Lady Trevelyan, [6] who is one of the best judges of art and poetry I am acquainted with, does not know what to say of it she thinks it so wonderful, she says. So you see that even Aurora Leigh when binding her young brow with the ivy-wreath that bright morning in the garden [7] could not have desired more enthusiastic admiration than her creator gets, without, I dare say, caring much for it.
I should dearly love to hear something of my little friend Penini and what he is doing; I shall expect quite a stock of new poems by the time he comes to England again. I hope you will come in the summer as you intended; it seems quite cruel that we should have such as you and Mr Browning belonging to our nation and yet so rarely able to see anything of you, and that Florence should have what Florence cannot possibly appreciate.
I have no news of much interest to tell, things going on in an ordinary jog trot kind of way. Tennyson has completed the purchase of Farringford and now must be regarded as a lord of the soil. [8] His illustrated book is not finished yet, [9] Moxon still waiting I believe for Rossetti’s drawings, 4 of which are done and 2 only remaining to be finished. [10] Hunt is working upon his picture of Christ disputing with the Doctors in the Temple, but fears he will not get it finished ready to exhibit in the R.A. Exhibition. [11] He has had a great deal of trouble lately: his father died not long ago, [12] and soon after he learned the death of his friend Seddon which occurred at Cairo. [13] Seddon was Hunt’s companion in the East; soon after he heard of this, a little neice [sic] that he was very fond of died. [14] Coventry Patmore has not been writing poetry of late, but indulges in prose—an article on American Manners, a pendant to the article he wrote upon fine manners called “Madame de Hautefort.” [15] I have not seen Carlyle lately, but I believe he is terribly grim, I suppose because Frederick does not march in such double-quick time as he wishes. [16] Mrs Carlyle has been very unwell all this winter with a severe cold which has confined her to the house; she looks very weak and worn. [17]
Ruskin has been endeavoring to persuade Rossetti to join the Old Water Color Society; John Lewis the president has offered to set aside the ballot and admit him without competition if he will. [18] Rossetti is undetermined what to do—says that if he did he should surely make more money, but fears that he should totally neglect oil painting.
Since I saw you I [have] done nothing but a medallion of Dr Lushington [19] and work at my marble bust of Tennyson, [20] which is drawing towards completion, as it need be, for my patience is fast oozing away; I have been closely working upon it for more than 8 weeks. I hope you will have made up your mind by the time you come to London again to let me make a likeness of you—you very nearly promised remember! And if you will write such books as Aurora Leigh you must expect to pay the penalty of being troubled [by] your admirers. I am afraid you will say “I wish you would spare me the trouble of reading such long letters” and think the most practical apology will be to cease adding to it. Give my heartiest love to your sweet little boy, and ask him not to forget me before he sees me again–
Again with many truest thanks,
My dear Mrs Browning,
Ever devotedly yours
Thomas Woolner.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. We have been unable to trace this presentation copy.
2. Woolner may have read all of Aurora Leigh by 25 November 1856 (see SD1992). He had definitely done so by 10 December (see SD2009).
3. The friend was William Bell Scott (see SD2029).
4. Emily Tennyson wrote to Woolner: “We have read Aurora Leigh and rejoice in its good and great and beautiful thoughts” (see SD2003).
5. William Cox Bennett (1820–95), journalist and minor poet, became a “watch-maker” upon the death of his father, John Bennett, in 1829, when he took up his father’s trade. He sent unsolicited copies of his works to the Brownings and other literary notables (e.g. Dickens, Carlyle, Ruskin). Although we have not been able to confirm Ruskin’s praise of Bennett’s poetry in this instance, his approval is evident in an 1860 letter to Bennett: “I admire, more and more, the gentle and loving mind which displays itself in all your poems” (Cook, p. 353). Bennett’s most recent volume, Queen Eleanor’s Vengeance. And Other Poems, was published on 19 November 1856 with an 1857 imprint.
6. Pauline Trevelyan (née Paulina Jermyn, 1816–66) was married to Walter Calverley Trevelyan, 6th Baronet (1797–1879), whose interests included science, agriculture, and antiquities. She established friendships with poets and painters and was an important patron of the Pre-Raphaelites. Woolner introduced Lady Trevelyan to the Brownings in October 1856, and she described the meeting in her journal (see SD1978).
7. See Aurora Leigh, II, 46–58.
8. The Tennysons had been living at Farringford on the Isle of Wight since 1853; the purchase was completed in late 1856. Emily Tennyson recorded in her journal for 3 December 1856: “A letter to say that all is settled about Farringford. A letter misses the owner, changes the place of payment, so all these days we have been anxious & now we are glad & thankful that the place is our own” (Lady Tennyson’s Journal, ed. James O. Hoge, Charlottesville, Virginia, 1981, p. 79).
9. Poems (1857); see letter 3900, note 6.
10. D.G. Rossetti contributed five (not six) woodcut designs. Two were drawn from “The Palace of Art,” and one each from “The Lady of Shalott,” “Mariana in the South,” and “Sir Galahad.”
11. William Holman Hunt’s “The Finding of the Saviour in the Temple,” begun in 1854, was not completed until 1860, when it was exhibited at Gambart’s German Gallery in London.
12. William Hunt (1800–56), died of a respiratory ailment on 15 November 1856 at his residence, 51 John Street, Holborn.
13. Thomas Seddon (1821–56), a landscape painter associated with the Pre-Raphaelite movement, travelled with Hunt in Egypt and Palestine in 1854. Seddon returned to Egypt in the autumn of 1856. He died of dysentery in Cairo on 23 November.
14. Although Woolner reports the death of Hunt’s niece, Anne Clark Armor notes that a “little nephew” of Hunt died on the very date of the elder Hunt’s funeral (William Holman Hunt: The True Pre-Raphaelite, 1989, p. 149). We have been unable to further identify the nephew or confirm the circumstances of his death.
15. See letter 3896, note 6. We have been unable to trace an article on “American Manners” by Patmore.
16. Woolner refers to Carlyle’s The History of Friedrich II. of Prussia, Called Frederick the Great (6 vols., 1858–65). On 20 December 1856, Carlyle wrote to Lord Ashburton: “I hardly remember to have been in such a boundless bottomless vortex as I had had to swim in for the last three months”; his return to London seemed to have undone his “country ‘improvement of health’… Then there was Fredk, like to drive me delirious in the state it lay in” (Carlyle, 32, 57–58).
17. In late August of 1856, Jane Carlyle contracted a severe cold with bilious attacks. Her health improved temporarily during an October trip to Scotland, but in a 2 January 1857 letter, she reports: “Since my illness, that is to say pretty nearly ever since I returned from Scotland I have used my privilege of Invalid” (Carlyle, 32, 68).
18. John Frederick Lewis (1804–76), a painter primarily of Oriental subjects, became president of the Society of Painters in Water-Colours in 1855. Since candidates for associate membership were required to submit specimens of their art and receive votes of acceptance from two-thirds of the voting members, Lewis’s offer to suspend the rules for the sake of Rossetti was a generous one. In a letter to Rossetti (ca. Christmas 1856), John Ruskin urged him to submit to the system of candidateship, adding that with the support of Lewis and himself, he was sure to be accepted (Ruskin: Rossetti: Preraphaelitism; Papers 1854 to 1862, ed. William Michael Rossetti, 1899, p. 148). At the end of 1856, Rossetti wrote to William Allingham: “Ruskin wants me very much to enter the Old Water-colour Society, and says John Lewis will do anything to facilitate my entrance. This would be a great advantage to the sale of my water colours, but I fear it might chance to bonnet my oil-painting for good. I don’t know what to do.” (Rossetti, 2, 154–155). Ultimately, Rossetti declined.
19. In October 1856, Vernon Lushington (1832–1912), a friend of Woolner, asked him to make a medallion of his father, Stephen Lushington (1782–1873), an Admiralty court judge. In a letter to Emily Tennyson dated 6 November 1856, Woolner wrote, “I have finished my medallion of Dr. Lushington which gives great satisfaction to the family” (Amy Woolner, Thomas Woolner, R. A., Sculptor and Poet: His Life in Letters, 1917, p. 122).
20. In a letter to Emily Tennyson dated 8 March 1857, Woolner reports the completion of the bust of Tennyson (Thomas Woolner, p. 130). In 1859 the bust was acquired by a group of Trinity College, Cambridge alumni, headed by Vernon Lushington, and presented to the college library.
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