Diary by E.B.B.

Finished the preface to my Prometheus,—& delivered it to Papa in the evening. I read it or rather spelt it aloud,—& in my opinion, [he] did not very much like it,—tho’ I am assured otherwise by other observers. He has heard from Mr. Curzon who means to dine with us tomorrow. Papa says...

…> enough.

…> Arrived there at about two & stayed until three. We were shown into the dining room where Miss Baker & Miss Pindar were at luncheon with Mrs. Ricardo.[1] Surprised to see Miss Baker. After they were gone, we talked; until Mrs. Webb came, & then until all the Onslows &

Preliminaries of a sore throat,—but tamarinds cured me. Miss Baker came at half past two, & spent an hour with me. She objects to such books as Corinne[1] & Mathilde,[2] because they lead the mind to expect more in life than can be met in life. Well!—allow that they do!— The expectation...

Dearest Henrietta’s birthday.[1] May God bless & preserve her & make her happy!— Did I write down in my diary last Tuesday that Bummy wrote to Miss Battie to ask Mr. Battie to enquire of Hatchard[2] whether he wd. read my ms of Prometheus, & consent to publish it together with about 30...

Dear H’s birthday kept; & I took advantage of the holiday by going to Malvern with Arabel. As we went into Ruby Cottage, there were so many packages in the breakfast room the door of which was half open,

My birthday!—[1] My thoughts will go to the past—the past—to the ever ever beloved!— My happy days went away with her!— If I were to count up every happy hour since, how few they wd. be!— But there is no use in all this! The tears which I am shedding at this moment are as vain, —...

A letter from London to Bummy from the Batties. A note from Mr. Battie informs her that Hatchard is ready to publish my book; but not a word about the copyright. He seems to have misunderstood her,—or else Mr. H will have nothing to do with it. B & I have determined on writing to explain. I...

Answers went to the post.

The Cliffes came,—& Eliza brought the Album for Annie. It is a beautiful green one. I hope she may think the first epithet. Scholefield for Mr. Boyd’s birthday is to come soon.

Notes again. Out walking. I dont feel quite well,—& no wonder—for my spirits are quite worn threadbare.

I was not at church,—& B H & A only half way there. A letter from Mr. Boyd brief enough, but to ask me to ask Papa to allow me to go to R C on Monday & stay until Thursday; for the sake of writing his digamma essay for him. Miss H M has an inflammation in one of her eyes!— Now I wish very...

Wrote a letter to Mr. Boyd[1]— I never will be too kind again to anybody, in the way of writing or speaking. Told him what Papa said!— Told him that I was far far more disappointed than he cd. be; for that Miss H M’s eyes wd. probably soon be well, & that then he wd. have “a more...

Not daring to say a word about going to Malvern, & yet wishing to go. At last I sent Henry down to Papa at eleven, to ask if Papa had any objection to my going. None!! A went with me. Arrived there at half past one, & met Annie at the door. Into the drawing room,—& after a proper pause, into...

Did not go to church: but B H & A did—besides all the boys except Bro—poor Bro—who is rather rheumatic. I read Bunyan & the Greek testament, instead. Rain came, & Mrs Cliffe did not. Rain off,—and we off to the school. Mr. Curzon preached beautifully. Afterwards he asked me when I was...

Finished my writing out: but I am not sure about the first choral ode after all. That ξυμπιπνων, & the extra βυθος which both Scholefield & Blomfield introduce.[1]

Went to Malvern in Bummy’s suite, & Arabel’s. Called in passing at Mrs. Trant’s, & had to listen to some exquisite selections from her own & Miss Harriet Berrington’s[1] album—“accursed were she who first cried hold enough”,[2] by the laws of politeness,—

Mr. Boyd gave me Nonnus’s paraphrase of St John’s Gospel—lent it to me—yesterday; that I might hunt for hiatus[e]s for him. I was reading some of it today, which is the day of the general fast.[1] Whenever he says exactly what is in Scripture, he does not say it as well as Scripture says...

Not reading Nonnus,—but correcting my press instead. My translation does not please me altogether. No letter from Hatchard, again!—

My dear friend’s birthday.[1] May God bless him. I said so when I prayed.

…> chairs; for when I went down to ask her to walk out, & the rain came on, she asked me to stay & talk to her instead.

After Mrs. Trant had been here 10 minutes, & had gone,—B made me go with her to Colwal, where she & A & I sate with Mrs. Martin a tremendous time. Mrs. M. is a superior woman in feeling & good sense,

Went to Malvern with B & A. So much pro & conning about who should go, that we were not off until past eleven. Provoking. Left B at Mrs. Trant’s—& A drove me on. Into the dining room at R C, where I waited half an hour at the very least, before Mr. Boyd let me go into his room. Scholefield...

…> in her power, tho’ in vain, to induce them to go to Clifton!!! My presentiments were prophecies. Henrietta says that she [Miss H. Mushet] evidently does not like Mr. Boyd very much!!! She told Henrietta how very extraordinary he is,—& how nervous—& how he encourages his nervousness...

Better today. Wrote out some lyrical extracts for Mr. Boyd,—& sent them to him.