4631. EBB to Julia Martin
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 27, 240–242.
28 Via del Tritone
Saturday [24] March. [1860] [1]
My dearest Mrs Martin, I never heard of your grief [2] —& I had wondered much at not receiving a word from you throughout the winter—since the one I had from you immediately on our arrival in Rome– There is no use in talking, nor in writing, nor in weeping– Nothing comforts us under these separations (not even, I fear, with many of us, the certainty of its being God’s will) nothing, .. except the knowledge .. or the feeling (however got at) that it is not separation in any real or ultimate sense at all– The sweet, tender, familiar flesh & blood relation does not end so, cannot, does not. There is a veil: a little shifting of circumstances—that is all– I have strong convictions on this subject—evidence too, it seems to me—but to you, it will not be– I am a heretic to the majority of the Christian church upon the point, & cannot receive the vague abstractive notions which flower into the theories of Isaac Taylor, [3] .. to name an active modern thinker– Mrs Stowe, who is at Rome just now, was talking to me about this two days back– She is a very keen person, &, though devout, is by no means extravagant, or deficient in reference to the traditions—& she told me that she believed in presence, & that the spirits who ministered to us were taken from the number of those who had loved us in the body– We talked & agreed together much. It is singular—but, do you know, I never see her without being reminded of you. I wonder if ever I told you that before– She has that peculiar calm & poise of manner, which you have .. the appearance of self-containment. After that, need I say I like her?– I like her very much. Never was a human being so little dislocated or strained even, by the shock & pressure of popular applause– Simple, natural, unconscious– Then she sympathizes with me much more than you do on certain unnameable points–
We have had a not very brilliant winter here, either from the sun or society. No fierce cold however, & the diplomats for gossips. I was ill once—did I tell you? but got well again after some struggle. I call it “falling on the grass” [4] .. the climate yielding its advantages– I am more brittle than I used to be .. which was not necessary .. and am forced to take great precautions, to live at all. Still, people wonder at me, for looking so much better again, & cod’s liver oil has certainly done its duty. Now here’s the warm weather coming—to say nothing of the central Italy elections, [5] which must do everybody good who feel like me– There will be fighting though, it seems to me—there must be—for we are to have Venitia within the year, & arrange (in order to which we must derange) the southern provinces. I suppose you are very angry about Savoy. What you should understand however is, that the Italians are not. There has been a long hankering in Savoy after France from which she was cut off by the treaties of 15 [6] —& if the popular vote is appealed to I see nothing to object to in the annexation– Only the vote is a sine quâ non. For the rest, Italy rids herself of a difficulty, in letting go the Savoyards, who were found unsympathetical & hard to govern– There was no treaty .. but there was a sous entendu [7] in reference not to Tuscany, but to newly constituted Italy .. including Venice.
I mention my pamphlet-poems, to explain to you that an article on them in the Athenæum contains a most unconscientious mis-statement. The “Curse on a Nation” does not refer to England .. & if the critic had read it with the smallest attention once through he would have known better. That poem was written for the Anti Slavery society of the United States, & published there several years ago. I found myself obliged to write to the Athenæum & correct the critic– [8] For the rest, I was from the beginning prepared to be torn to pieces for my book, & I shall be torn. They have all right to do it, & I none to complain– And while objectors keep to facts, I dont complain.
I have good letters from home of my brothers & sisters, thank God. We remain here till the first days of June. Let me hear from you dearest friends, & tell me how you both are– I never hear enough of what is personal to you. If you were in England you shd have the pamphlet poems, & be free to hate them besides. But you are better off in being free, not to read them. Tell me how Mr Hanford [9] is–
Your ever affecte—& grateful
Ba.
Robert’s love & Penini’s.
Address: France. / Madame Martin, / Turençon / Pau / Basses Pyrenées.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Wellesley College.
1. Dated by a Marseille postmark of 30 March 1860, a Friday.
2. Letitia Brabazon (née Vignoles, 1786–1859), elder sister of Mrs. Martin, died on 20 December.
3. Isaac Taylor (1787–1865), theological writer and author of Logic in Theology and Other Essays (1859).
4. Cf. Andrew Marvell, “The Garden” (1681), line 40.
7. “An understanding.”
9. Compton John Hanford (1819–60); see letter 2627, note 8.
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