Sunday. August 14.
Everybody except me, went to church. I stayed at home, & felt wretchedly unwell all the time, & read the Bishop of Salisburys (Jewel’s) Apologia Ecclesiœ Anglicanœ.[1] I got thro’ more than half of if; lying now in my armchair & now on the bed, & now smelling aromatic vinegar. The soul must be a weak being after all, that it cant animate one’s body without aromatic vinegar; and my soul has life & energy enough about it, as souls go. Jewel writes very well, very eloquently, very nervously. I like him very much. I bought this little book before I could read it, when I was eleven or twelve years old. I have read some of it, here & there, since then: but never so much as I have read today. I wish I could write Latin as well as Jewel!—
Eliza Cliffe came up stairs & found me inbedded. I transplanted myself immediately into my sitting room,—& then, up came Mrs. Cliffe, who looked at the picture & by asking a hundred questions about my opinion of it, put my conscience in jeopardy. We went to chapel, & hoped to find Mr. Curzon. In vain! A young man preached “indifferently well”.[2] I am in doubt up to this moment whether he or the sun made me feel sleepy. As Bummy Arabel & I were driving home we made a sejour[3] among the cows for some time; & while they were studying the picturesque, my thoughts went away where they liked. I forgot to say that the preacher put a note directed to Miss Barrett, into Mrs. Cliffe’s hand. The note was from Mr. Curzon, & proposed dining with us on Wednesday or Thursday. Then I will go to Malvern on Tuesday. I felt better, far better, this evening.
1. [John Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury], Apologia Ecclesiœ Anglicanœ (London, 1562). E.B.B.’s copy of the 1692 edition formed Lot 790 of Browning Collections.
2. Henry V II.i.53: “I have an humour to knock you indifferently well.”
3. “Sojourn.”
