4234. EBB to Sophia Eckley
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 25, 215–217.
Le Havre
Maison Versigny. 2 rue du Perrey
August 28 [1858] [1]
I have been in the torrent & in the spray, dearest Sophie, of people & things .. sometimes glad, sometimes sad, .. but rather sad than glad, dear .. & always without repose– It seems to me now as if I must needs go out of the world to get rest– Since writing my last letter I have had more visitors who are gone—my dear sister Arabel remaining & my brother George, .. the latter, however, meaning, I believe, to set out next week for some wandering on his own account– Then Arabel will linger, to go with us to Paris & stay with us till we go to Italy– Robert’s father & sister have been in the house with us here the whole time, & will continue till we break off in Paris. Think what it must be to me after my silence & rest of Italy .. which I remember dimly like some strange sweet dream of a scarcely possible heaven. Shall I ever get back to it? can I?—— I long, I long, & doubt. Yet it has been true joy to me to look in my sister’s face again, & see it as of one well & happy, & tender to me– I love her dearly:—and my brothers have been very kind. But the life somehow is different,—and that sequestration in the south, so long enjoyed by me, spoils me, I fear, for the common ‘give & take’ of English life. I feel like an earthen cup in the midst of the gold & silver & peradventure pewter cups—a touch cracks me & chips me, .. sets me longing for the quiet corner of the shelf, out of sight & in the dust—that’s the place for me– Then Sophie will take me down & blow softly the said dust aside, & will say (who knows?) that she’ll drink her cold pure water out of me, [2] .. till I shall be glad & proud——
No—not proud, I think– I am in a fit of humility this morning, & feel in a sane way as if I could’nt ever be proud any more– But I shall perhaps. Who knows? Chi lo sa? as we say in Italy– Its difficult to get an easy place in this world, and much our own fault when we dont. There’s the crisis of my fit of humility for now.
But dont remind me of it, dear, when you write, for I cant hear from you this fortnight to come, and by that time I may be turned to all manner of haughtiness & naughtiness perhaps. Rather speak of yourself than of me. To hear of you, from you, about you, always does me good. I like to think of you always—in the woods, in the house, in the church– May God bless & love you, my sister Sophie, everywhere.
As to the lady of the Baths, [3] we wont say she lies, dear, .. but she makes her own facts. Never mind. The curious thing is that the good obedient niece swears to them, point by point—& has attained to considering it a kind of duty to do so. The half-effaced colonel can scarcely affirm anything (not even himself) but he does not deny, either. When the lady embroiders about me I try to keep my temper & to consider it a compliment, .. or at least a consequence of my having some sort of “literary reputation”. My acquaintance with her is quite the slightest—except that she was really benevolent in her attentions to us on our two summer visits to Lucca, for which we have returned the due measure of thankfulness– Once, years & years ago, before I was grown up she saw me on a morning visit to some of my family, [4] —on which, she has embroidered in every possible stitch & shade of Berlin wool. One may be patient, but it’s really hard sometimes– The summer before the last we spent at Lucca was the first on which our acquaintance began I may say,—and I believe we had tea with her twice or thrice at farthest. On our last summer at Lucca I scarcely crossed her threshold as you know—never in the evening– Which has not saved us from all sorts of pretty stories as unfounded as possible. Still, she can be very kind & goodnatured—she was so to our friend Mr Lytton—only as she takes out every good office in small change (with a large percentage) one wishes her at the end of the world instead of feeling inclined to “spend a day with her.” I wonder how Miss Haworth could make up her mind to it– And I dont wonder at you!!– The lady of Lucca is detestable I think .. between us two .. but, dear, it is’nt worth while to detest her or anyone else– The longer one lives the more one grows languid in one’s hates. In one’s loves it is otherwise, I thank God, I do thank God. And we can understand how it must be so, seeing that we are approaching the Intense Love nearer & nearer, with every step away from the sun.
I am glad you like Miss Haworth. She was my husband’s friend long before our marriage, & long before I knew her, of course– Since when I think I am nearer to her & see her better than he does– She is very gentle & soft—too soft—very mobile in fancy & talent—capable of almost everything but persistency & consistency. Her variety of talent is a disadvantage to her—for she has faculty enough to have made herself a reputation in art, or even in literature, if she could have held on to one branch, &, above all things, if she could have let go society. But men have been too much to her, that the gods should be anything—and now she is melancholy, seeming to miss both gods & men at once.—— As others do also. It is not an uncommon grief.
Little Pen has learnt to swim, tell Do,—& now he is absorbed in a fleet of boats contributed by his friends. There’s a ship of war which he longs to take to Florence,—& cant, I am certain—cant, unless we have a box on purpose. He will take, instead, a good deal of improvement in his French, Mademoiselle Augustine being very content with him.
Dearest Sophie, pray for me. Put your love for me, darling, less into praise of me, & more into prayer for me: for if indeed you could see the face of my soul you would do it.– Ah—how you mistake me– You see me high, &, I am low—light, & I am dark——it is’nt a phrase of humility– God sees how true it is–
But I love you—yes, I love you—that also is true. May the Truth in all things bless you & shine on you.
Your ever loving
Ba
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Year provided by reference to the return address; 1858 was the only year the Brownings stayed in Le Havre.
2. Cf. Matthew 10:42.
3. EBB refers to Clotilda Elizabeth Stisted and, further on, her husband, Col. Henry Stisted (see letter 2853, note 2), as well as his niece Charlotte (see letter 2909, note 8).
4. Presumably, Jane Hedley, with whom Mrs. Stisted was acquainted (see letter 2853).
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