SD2926. Sarianna Browning to Joseph Milsand
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 32, 372–374 (in part).
Le Croisic,
Loire inférieure.
(either Maison Dubochet, or poste restante,
as we always send for the letters.)
Sat. Aug. 10th [–11] [1867] [1]
My dear Friend.
Your letter has reached me safely—it does indeed seem long since we were in direct communication—though I think the fault—if fault there be—lies on my side. During our five days in Paris, I was too much in confusion of mind & body to write, except a mere note which was not required, as the Pall Mall announced our arrival. By the way we got neither Athn nor Ill. News last week, and have written to the London newspaper-man to enquire the reason. The Times comes regularly, and I always send it to poor Miss Ryan, as on former occasions— there seems little enough in it. This place is very quiet, and the weather very fine—we bathe regularly. Pen has been unwell from change of diet, I believe, but is all right again now. The boys shoot nothing, as they disdain small birds, and, it is too early for the snipes—but they shot a very large white bird, said to be very rare (either a cormorant or a heron, or something similar) and took it to a bird stuffer that it might be preserved and carried as a trophy to London, and to their dismay the man neglected it, and all the plumage is spoilt. But I may tell you in confidence that Pen has little heart to enjoy anything as he has just learnt that Pf Jowett recommends him not to go up for examination till he has read for some months with another tutor, and advises Robt to send him to some energetic tutor in the country for a short time. I believe Mr Jowett is right in his advice, though wrong in his ground for it—he evidently thinks that Pen works hard, and told him to go to the sea-side and amuse himself and take a good holiday, but the truth is Pen works very little, and takes no interest in his work—his fault is intellectual laziness, or rather laziness of the intellect. Pf Jowett says all boys who learn at home want stimulus, and that is Pen’s case. A change would rouse him up. Mr Jowett seems very fond of Pen—told Robt he was greatly pleased with his manners and conversation, and found him full of intelligence—thinks he is apt to get discouraged, and tired of his work, so he was very kind and told him not to be afraid for he was very well able to hold his own at Oxford. Robert is turning it over in his mind, and I will tell you what he decides on. I think it will be an excellent thing to change the routine of his life for a month or two—it will break up the lounging with Willy, and the boating, which lately grew to an excess,—rowing every day. Pen has not got wisdom enough to keep it in its proper place. He seems dreadfully startled at the idea of being sent away from home, which was only announced to him two days ago. He is a good boy. In fact Mr Gillespie is too fond of him & too indulgent, and I think with P. Jowett a new element would do good. The worst is that Robt exaggerated it so much that he makes himself thoroughly wretched and ill. He forgets that Pen has had the great disadvantage of being an only child with every thing his heart could wish—he cannot realize being obliged to do any thing he dislikes. It seems you have had a slight, faint touch of the same feeling about Claire. Be thankful she is a girl with the privilege of not being obliged to pass Public examinations. Give her my kind love. Robt has heard nothing from Buloz. I do not know whether any answer was expected.
Sunday mg I left off yesterday, as my letter cannot go before this morning’s post,—and now I resume it. The weather continues very fine. Many thanks for the trouble you have taken, but my obligation is of ’65. no 197,753. Never mind about it– I was not thinking seriously of it, and can ascertain in Paris.
When you were in the Exposition, did you see the collection of paintings, Belgian, Bavarian & Dutch, in the Annexes? We were very much pleased with them.
I must not forget to chronicle the fact that we went on Tuesday to the play! At the éstablissement during the season, some actors give a representation occasionally in the large salon. We all went, at my special desire, and Robt enjoyed it the most of us all—the acting was excellent. Unluckily the morality of one of the pieces was not exactly adapted to edify young people: the superior advantages of having a mistress rather than having a wife grated on Robert’s ears as the father of a young lad: though it was so droll, we could not help roaring with laughter.
Did you ever read Anthony Trollope’s “Small House at Allington”—it is so good—so like real life—he is certainly a very clever novelist—does thoroughly well what he attempts. Mrs Bracken brought it down with her, and Robt in a famine of books, is reading it with pleasure. I have read it before.
We were brought, by the Brackens, the latest news from home—the poor dear owl was “melancholy”, Jane sent word. Willy said it was quite pleased at the sound of his voice—to add to its discomfort, as the dining-room was being cleaned, it was obliged to keep to its own apartment. Poor Owly! You have no idea how tame and caressing it had become: but in the Autumn you will see it. I am longing for the time when we shall have you again. I cannot get reconciled to your absence. You are fortunate in finding young companions for Claire. I begin to feel that it is a real misfortune to be an only child. The moral discipline of a large family can never be replaced, or made up for. Good for parents, and good for children, is the “quiver full of arrows”. I remember Sir F. Bence saying the wickedest thing a man could do was to have only one child, and my grandmother used to say where there was one child there were always three fools. Now with this compliment—I conclude. Robt just puts his head in the room to tell me that Pen has done some Greek this morning in a way quite surprising—showing what he can do if he really takes pains. I confess it is provoking, but after all there is still time, as Pen is under the average age for going up. You see I trouble you with our troubles—that is as it ought to be with such a friend. You know I could never be indifferent to any thing that caused you anxiety. I must make haste and say good bye. This post (a stupid arrangement) goes out before the daily post comes in.
Robert & Pen send their best love. Mrs Bracken’s kind remembrance.
Ever your affectionate,
S.B.
Address: Monsieur Milsand, / St Aubin-sur-Mer. / par Luc. / Calvados.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library, Joseph Milsand Archive.
1. Year provided by postmark.
___________________
