4734. Robert Bulwer Lytton to EBB
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 28, 126–134.
Baden
but Address Vienna—
3d Sept/60
My very dear friend,
I shall very inadequately tell you how great a pleasure it was to me to hear from you again: and what best & truest of pleasures to receive from you a letter so kind to me, and so full of yourself—I mean, so full of what you are, in heart & mind. I am only grieved, (& truly & heartily grieved, believe me) that of the little you do tell me of yourself the news should be so sad. Nothing that affects or concerns you however remotely will ever be indifferent to me, and I hope I do not claim more than the privelege of an old friend, and a very loving one in taking to my heart some share in your anxiety. God grant to your sister health, & to you speedy comfort on her behalf.
Thank you very warmly for all you say about Lucile. You use this very slip-shod Muse of mine with the tenderness of one who knew her in her cradle. I have written worse poems and weaker poems than ‘Lucile’: but none, I must frankly own, that I, myself, less loved or liked. The merit of the book appears to me this—that there is thro’out it, a slovenly evidence of power, (power rather possible than proved) wh wd induce me, if it were the work of another man to say “there is more in his mind than there is in his book[.]” The faults are obvious—the metre is detestable, and disagrees with our language. The management of it was a tour de force, the success of wh is probably very partial– But the attempt involved that kind of difficulty which was only to be met by a ‘rush’. Polish was out of the question. The main defect of the book is I think precisely that wh you have pointed at—diffuseness & redundancy– Too much of the explanatory system of the spelling book– [‘]‘This is a butterfly” “That is an elephant” under very indifferent wood cuts. The weakness of all the characters was intended—but it was a mistake in conception. I began the Poem one summer morning in a fit of high spirits—and wrote three or four books of it without drawing breath,—without any proposed object or premeditated plot. When I had got thus far—my mood changed and I felt great disgust of the metre to wh I had bound myself & flung it aside. A year later, Forster[,] my father, & another friend to whom I showed the m∙s. appeared so much struck by it, that urged by them, I took it up again, & resolved to finish it– I meant it to be no representation of Life, in the large & catholic sense of the word (as some have supposed)—but a fanciful sketch of the most superficial aspects of life in certain phases of society– Of this I think it is in the main a true representation—the question remains whether the thing was worth representing at all–
If the sym[m]etry of the book had not demanded a 12th Canto I shd liked to have ended at the Eleventh—which perhaps says all that need be said– I had not only written but printed, a whole canto closing the Poem otherwise—in wh Lucile did not turn nun & the young generation did not appear. But it was not satisfactory & I wrote the existing Canto as preferable, tho’ imperfect—with some impatience to have done with it. Lucile shd represent that sort of intellect, more common to women than men, which while it is of an order richer & fuller than belongs to mere talent, is essentially unproductive, un-creative– I know one or two women of whom Lucile is a fair type––who think as genius thinks and feel as genius feels—but cannot create as genius creates—neither writing books, nor painting pictures– Heroic natures, but insufficient, needing to complement themselves with another, not reaching the highest type, in which intellectually there is no sex. I look back on the book & see that there is in it too much attempt to generalize[,] too much talk of ‘the World’ of ‘Genius’ of ‘the heart’ of ‘man’ & ‘woman’—which sort of talk is apt to run into showy falsehood. By the way, from one of your criticisms I wd wish to reclaim Ld A. [1] he does not cry at the loss of his wife[’]s fortune, but in recalling the abuse of her own as regards her—the intelligence brought by her cousin reaches him just as he is prickt by Lucile’s words alarmed about his wife & dissatisfied with himself– It is self reproach, not loss of fortune that he is supposed to feel & the fear that he has flung away the means of placing beyond the reach of fortune the happiness confided to him: hinc illae lachrymae– [2] But, even for this, he is perhaps too lacrymose[.]
I have talked to you too much of my own Book. I have a great deal to say about yours, and a wish to say it, so great as to make me hope you will not resent a gar[r]ulity which is much more ‘impertinent’ as from me to you, than a hundred criticisms far less kind & forbearing than your last—on any work of mine, can ever be– I have read and re-read many times, yr ‘Poems before Congress’. I did not write to you after my first reading of the Poems, because my impressions were confused in everything but a vague sense of some disappointment at the form, & more antagonism to the substance– I well own that I closed the book with a sense of irritation not allayed by the great beauty of one or two passages in it. But your poems have the merit inherent to all that is intrinsically good in art[.] The more they are studied the more their beauties are apparent, the more they command admiration, & haunt the memory. Their beauty as verse, is much greater than I at first recognized[.] There are fine flashing & keen strokes thro’out– And the ‘Italian Lady’ & the ‘dance at the Cascine’ [3] are very impressive & striking pictures.
But .. but—(will you see in the hardihood of this avowal enough of the true veneration wh goes with it, to enable you to forgive it?) .. I still find my mind opposed to what I conceive to have been yours in writing the book. Do not set me down at once in the number of some critics that I have read, whose obvious spleen, appears to have wilfully misinterpreted yr text.
I start with a strong doubt as to how far politics are fair or fitting subject for poetry—as politics. True, they have suggested stirring war-songs, and stinging satires. But this sort of politics is more in name than in fact, I think. The Poet who sings in face of an enemy’s fleet, or after the trumpets of a departing host, is in reality dealing with a simple & manifest emotion, upon which discussion cannot be supposed to exist. The satirist is rarely the best Poet or the best Politician. Yr Poems, tho’, are not mere Io Pæans, [4] nor mere satires—they include the consideration of many debateable questions—such, for instance, as that of international intervention,—and associate politics in a larger sense with poetry in a higher. It is the compatibility of this union, which appreciating the strength, of yr convictions, and honouring the courage with wh it is expressed, I feel a doubt about. I say only ‘a doubt’—for it exists only in a vague sense of something incongruous that hurts the pleasurable sensation derived from art, and not in any reason that I can logically render to myself as to why I feel this incongruity.
I cannot yet give up the consideration of politics as a science—a science wh for the misfortune of mankind; is still in a very empirical state—but yet a science—to be approached by the reason, & that somewhat humbly since we know so little– If so it is clearly not the best subject for poetry which deals with passion & sentiment. At any rate the poet, writing politics, accepts the political criticism wh he chalanges [sic]—and then if you do not agree with the politician, you are deprived of much of the pleasure you expected from the poet. Then too, the very force & intensity of diction which belongs to poetry (and of which you are a powerful master) tends to irritate the reader when it seems applied against his own doubts, dispositions, or prejudices, upon subjects respecting which, at least, the world at large has not made up its mind– The poem is so strongly worded that it reads almost like a denunciation of those who do not fully share the political views it expresses—all is black or white,—and the vigorous rush and dramatic rapidity and picturesqueness of some of the lyrics, necessarily excludes the argument wh convinces, or the detailed discussion wh at least conciliates & flatters, a political dissentient.
I suppose this is why my first impressions were harsh and distasteful, & that it was not till I read again & again, that I fully embraced the poetical beauty of the book–
I am afraid you will think from what I have said that I am a Tory rampant in retrograde, and altogether at odds with you upon politics– I dont think however that we start from different points, or by opposite roads, only perhaps that I only go half way with you. So let me say my say about some of the points you touch on—only you must not consider my words as imposing or intruding anything on your views—only exposing my own, & very imperfectly– I cannot realize, or adopt with satisfaction, yr picture of L.N. any more than I can that drawn by V. Hugo. [5] Both views of the man .. (pray, pray forgive me) .. appear to me pushed into those extremes which lie beyond the exact truth—so far as one may guess at the character of a man one does not deal with or come near to. I regard L.N. as a man of undoubted genius, and unquestionably as a great constructor. There are evidences of this thro’out France. If he has gagged the Press, and silenced speech, he has also freed capital, and called into existence a material prosperity that speaks for itself—and for him. And it may be justly said of him that he has only made himself the master of France, to make France the mistress of Europe. I do not look upon him merely as an adroit and reckless adventurer who has play’d double or quits with Fortune[.] For I credit him not only with a conviction in his own destiny but with an equal, and an honest, conviction that it is the best destiny for France. He has large views & generous enthusiasms and I do not believe his ends to be selfish because I see his means to be unscrupulous. No scrupulous man cd have done what he has done. But an unscrupulous man is not necessarily a bad man. Still, altho without sophistry, in the enthusiasm for a great end, a man may weigh but very hastily, and esteem as comparatively unimportant the means by which it is to be realized, there is a maxim about this of wh the world is very naturally mistrustful. [6] He is doubtless ambitious for France: but the ambition of France is a menace to Europe: because from geographical & physical causes it must be a territorial ambition. I dont think the man insincere but I think his policy insincere from obvious causes, and I shd therefore be glad to see it watch’d with vigilance, & provided against with courteous but cautious tenacity. I think that any considerable increase of territory on the part of France, or even any paramount political influence, along the shores of the Mediterranean wd be a misfortune.
I have no doubt, for instance, that the Er is perfectly sincere in saying that he does not want the Rhine. At this moment I see no reason why he shd want it. But France is always ready to want it—(a project for its annexation, with the concurrence of Russia, existed in the Portfolio of the virtuous Chateaubriand, as the last card of Charles X) [7] and there may come a moment when LN. must be ready to do what France wants. If Prussia, abandoned by us (wh I trust may never happen) shd ever be constrained to yield to such a project her compensatory encrease [sic] of population from the German States cd only (I am convinced) be maintained by a total change of system wh wd place her in complete dependence on Russia on the one side, & France on the other—and if then, those two powers shd be tempted to agree on any aggressive policy in the East, we must prepare for a deadly struggle at fearful odds[—]Prussia, disabled or driven agst us, Austria extinct, Denmark hostile,—or say goodbye to India, & live on sufferance. No man can be absolutely insincere, who has intense convictions & L.N. has these no doubt, but he seems to me a practical enthusiast & not like that poor monomaniac Mazzini, but like Cromwell & Mahomet—neither of them positively bad men, nor positively good men, but both of them great men. When the whole world mistrusts a man, the whole world is rarely very far wrong.
You see I am really not very rabid agst him (sad & significant, as are such things as the procès Paradol) [8] but perhaps I am overmistrustful of hero-worship—lest it shd unconsciously degenerate into devil-worship, or the substitution of personality for principle. What is strong & striking is not necessarily good & true—what is common-place from general acceptance is not necessarily false I think.
With regard to all the present movement in Italy which has constantly referred my thoughts to you (knowing how much you must have taken it to yr heart, and not forgetful of Casa Guidi) you know I never was, & I think I never shall be a lover of the Austrian or the Bourbon in that land of lands. I shall be heartily glad to see Italy permanently free & pure Italian from end to end– All I dread is the substitution of French for Austrian supremacy there[.] I am apprehensive lest Piedmont be now only so far strengthened as to be mischievous as a vassal of France, & not yet sufficiently strengthened to be valuable as a great independent power– All, or nearly all, the Piedmontese agents in the East have been vexatious & troublesome—mere French or Russian tools– But all this wd cease I think if Piedmont were at the end of her just ambition—and I am most anxious to see her enlarged & strengthened to the fullest extent a barrier as much agst France as agst Austria– I have great doubts however as to whether the diverse nationalities are capable of permanent cohesion and will rest undivided when the pressure of external danger & imminent necessity has fallen off—and the attention of Europe turned elsewhere– These are misgivings, not ill wishes—& a great experiment is being made to which I cry God speed & the success of which I shall welcome all the more warmly if it shd be obtained by Italy herself, & the unsupported sword of Garibaldi– He is at present the only hero to whom I am ready to do homage without mistrust. Really a fine fellow. Will he realize the dream of Rienzi? [9] and with greater integrity than Rienzi ever showed? I think we shall hold hands off– But if he attacks Venetia he will have a sharp tussle for it—and I dont see how any responsible Govt can overtly help him– Then will be the time (if it comes) for Italy to shew what she can do for herself–
As for Cavour, I cant swallow him without spoonfuls of salt– I esteem him a shifty tricksy fellow—but I suppose he who goes to work in earnest must not mind about dirtying his hands a little– If I understand you well I cannot but think you are not quite fair to the rifle-movement– For me I view it with fear as well as hope– It is a very serious experiment to arm so large a class of the population, and one of wh the results cannot yet be calculated– And as for invasion I am persuaded there is no chance of it at this moment, and I doubt the chance of it any time– So that beside the risk of the experiment itself there is the risk of the reaction– But these are mere considerations of ability & prudence[.] The movement itself is one wh I regard with any feeling but that of scorn or rebuke– That in a country highly-civilized as ours, where human life has become so precious, & where time has the value of gold, Lawyers artists tradesmen, and others, in all ranks, dependent on the peaceful professions shd at the mere suspicion of danger to their country cheerfully & at once forego their habits, & give up their bodies & their time to the defence of the commonwealth, with no prospect of glory & some of ridicule before them, is, I think, most creditable to any country, and as an Englishman I feel proud of it. Say the danger is (as I think) chimerical—so much greater to my thinking the merit– In what country, when even the danger has entered the doors, has the same taken place? I do not know whether I rightly interpret a verse of yours on this matter—perhaps I altogether mistake yr meaning in it, but if it be that it wd have been nobler & better to have armed & fought for the Italians before we armed for ourselves I cant go with you in that opinion– [10] It seems to me that a man shd protect his own wife in preference to the most unfortunate of unprotected ladies– But in any case I think we had no ground for interference in Italy, & no right to interfere. I think a wide distinction shd be drawn between the moral support volunteered by the public opinion of a free people, & the material support afforded by a responsible Govt to conflicting parties abroad. No Govt has a right to devote one fraction of the resources of a people of whose power it is the delegate & of whose welfare the guardian to any but the well-ascertained interests of that people to whom it is responsible– It has been called a selfish maxim, but the more I reflect on it, the more I am convinced of its truth & justice—that no State shd ever act officially beyond the region of its own interests—moral or material– I feel quite sure that a policy so restricted is best not only for the individual state but for mankind at large—for interests may be ascertained and fixed, and the interests of each have a relation to the interests of all– But sentiments fluctuate and it is no paradox to say that in human affairs principles or ‘ideas’ do so also– The sentiment of [to] day may not be the sentiment of to morrow– Yesterday legitimacy, to day democracy, to morrow despotism—all may be popular according to circumstances—and it is ten to one that direct intervention in behalf of a sentiment however noble, or an abstract principle however just, will prove to be mischievous intervention in the end. What was once done for the Bourbons in Europe, and again for Greek nationality—two sad failures [11] —is to the point, and once you admit intervention on the right side, you cannot exclude it on the wrong side, & what follows? The deadliest of all conflicts a general conflict for principle! No one has acted more entirely (I might say, more unscrupulously) on the maxim that bases policy on interests than L.N. himself– It wd be easy, surely, to shew that the War with Austria was undertaken mainly, if not exclusively, in the interests of France, & notably of the French Ruler– Nay, as much was confessed in defence of that hurried peace, wh avowed that the continuance of the War was incompatible with those interests—& whatever the abstract merits of the cause, I must say that to my thinking never was quarrel so unscrupulously & pertinaciously pickt, nor peace so palpably obtained on false pretences– To be sure cases may arise in wh the actual existence of a state may depend on the maintenance of an abstract principle abroad—as for instance—if free institutions were on the point of being crusht out all over Europe, we might fairly consider whether, if we did not maintain them by arms—our own turn might not follow, & find us witht allies: or the religious wars in Germany, where the maintain[ing] of a principle vi et armis [12] was life & death to the States concerned– [13] But however unsettled the question, I fancy all authorities on international obligations, will agree in principle that intervention is only to be justified by immediate danger to the Party intervening—our best publicists seem of one mind that utility—not abstract ethics—is the only safe basis for legislation at home—& I think the same rule may [be] car[r]ied into foreign policy– Govern as little as possible, & interfere as little as possible is what I wd say to all Govts—& leave abstract ideas to establish themselves, without protection or impediment.
Well, I have talked a great deal too much—on all subjects– But it is so long since I have had any talk with you that it is hard to leave off. I fear I shall have seemed very pragmatical but I dont mean to be so– I write with difficulty—for I have sprained my ancle,—& having to be upon a sofa, can only get a side long hold of the table, & must write in a sort of crab-fashion– Pray pray do let me sometimes hear from you, or at least of you– And however coldblooded may seem my sentiments on all other matters do not doubt the warmth & heartiness of those wh I feel toward you—& yours. There are none I more revere, and very very few I love so much.
Do you know there is a young Ld Loughboro’ here, [14] who raves about Aurora Leigh—says he thinks it equal to Shakespeare—quotes from it—catches some of its eloquence when he speaks about it, & never goes any where without it– You have also a most ardent admirer in Capt Maxse, who distinguished himself in the Crimea, & has written a novel[.] [15] He talks of going to Italy—this winter– Oh how I wish I cd go too– I am begin[nin]g to pine, pi<ne> for the Appenines. But they <are> far away from me– It is late– I have tired myself, & I daresay tired you, yet more. I say Good night, & pray God to bless you, & keep you my friend. I am yours most entirely.
R. Lytton
Address, on integral page: Mrs Browning / Casa Guidi / Florence / l’Italie.
Publication: BBIS-10, pp. 159–170.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library.
1. Lord Alfred Vargrave (see letter 4725, note 2).
2. “Hence those tears” (cf. Terence, Andria, line 126, trans. John Sargeaunt).
3. i.e., “A Court Lady” and “The Dance.”
4. The OED defines “pæan” as “a hymn or chant of thanksgiving for deliverance originally addressed to Apollo or Artemis; esp. a song of triumph after victory addressed to Apollo … The full phrase Io pæan occurs poetically … in same sense.” “Io” here does not refer to the woman in Greek mythology who was turned into a heifer by Zeus, but is rather “a Greek and Latin exclamation of joy or triumph.”
5. Lytton alludes to Victor Hugo’s Napoleon le petit (1852); see letter 3139, note 4.
6. “The end justifies the means.”
7. Charles X (1757–1836) succeeded his elder brother Louis XVIII as King of France in 1824. He abdicated following the July Revolution of 1830. During his reign, François René, Vicomte de Chateaubriand (1768–1848) served as French minister at Genoa and, later, at Rome. He was foreign minister from 1822 to 1824 under Louis XVIII.
8. “The Paradol trial.” Lucien Anatole Prévost-Paradol (1829–70), French journalist and essayist, was tried at Paris on 22 June 1860 for “exciting hatred and contempt against the Government” (The Times, 25 June 1860, p. 10). The incriminating document presented at the trial was a pamphlet the accused had recently published, Les anciens partis. The Times reported that the prosecutor “dwelt on the enormity of M. Paradol’s description of what … has always existed in the world—namely, the alliance of democracy with despotism … and he pointed with much force to the phrase, ‘Despotism is the alloy, and liberty is the pure gold.’ He also “censured M. Paradol for having alluded to Parliamentary government, and particularly to that of England.” Although the defense pointed out that the pamphlet never mentioned the French government, a panel of judges found the defendant guilty and sentenced him “to a month’s imprisonment and 3,000f. fine.”
9. Cola di Rienzi (Niccolo Gabrini, 1313–54), whose “dream” was to unite Italy and restore Rome to its ancient greatness as capital of the world. He took control of Rome in 1547, governing briefly as dictator, with the title Tribune, and later even more briefly in 1554, in which year he was killed by an angry mob (EB). He is the title subject of Mary Russell Mitford’s five-act play Rienzi (1828) and Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s novel Rienzi: The Last of the Tribunes (1835).
10. Lytton refers to “Italy and the World,” lines 99–100: “She [England] carries her rifles too thick for me, / Who spares them so in the cause of a brother.” The “scorn,” mentioned above, can be read in “A Tale of Villafranca,” lines 47–49.
11. Presumably, Lytton has in mind the French Revolutionary Wars and the Greek War of Independence. Regarding the former, European monarchs feared that the spirit of the French Revolution would infect their own countries and began attacking France in 1792, ostensibly, at first, to protect the French Bourbon king, Louis XVI; then, after his execution in January 1793, to restore a Bourbon to the throne. But the attacks failed, resulting in French territorial gains and, far worse for Europe, the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte. Regarding the Greek War of Independence, which began in 1821, victory was achieved through the intervention of England, France, and Russia. “By the convention of London (May 7, 1832) Greece was declared an independent kingdom … with Prince Otto, son of King Louis I. of Bavaria, as king. … King Otto, who had been brought up in a despotic court, ruled absolutely for the first eleven years of his reign; he surrounded himself with Bavarian advisers and Bavarian troops, and his rule was never popular. The Greek chiefs and politicians … found themselves excluded from all influence and advancement” (EB).
12. “By force and arms” (OED).
13. Lytton refers to the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48).
14. Robert Francis St. Clair-Erskine, Lord Loughborough (1833–90), later 4th Earl of Rosslyn, was the second son of James Alexander St. Clair-Erskine, 3rd Earl of Rosslyn (1802–66), and his wife, Frances (née Wemyss, 1794–1858).
15. We have been unable to identify any novels by Frederick Augustus Maxse.
___________________
