第60章 Chapter 13(2)

Take any opportunity of telling dear Mrs.Sartoris (however unnecessarily)that I and my wife remember her with the old feeling --I trust she is well and happy to heart's content.Pen is quite well and rejoicing just now in a Sardinian pony on which he gallops like Puck on a dragon-fly's back.

My wife's kind regard and best wishes go with those of,Dear Leighton,yours affectionately ever,R.Browning.

October 1859.

Mrs.to Miss Browning.

'...After all,it is not a cruel punishment to have to go to Rome again this winter,though it will be an undesirable expense,and we did wish to keep quiet this winter,--the taste for constant wanderings having passed away as much for me as for Robert.We begin to see that by no possible means can one spend as much money to so small an end --and then we don't work so well,don't live to as much use either for ourselves or others.Isa Blagden bids us observe that we pretend to live at Florence,and are not there much above two months in the year,what with going away for the summer and going away for the winter.

It's too true.It's the drawback of Italy.To live in one place there is impossible for us,almost just as to live out of Italy at all,is impossible for us.It isn't caprice on our part.Siena pleases us very much --the silence and repose have been heavenly things to me,and the country is very pretty --though no more than pretty --nothing marked or romantic --no mountains,except so far off as to be like a cloud only on clear days --and no water.

Pretty dimpled ground,covered with low vineyards,purple hills,not high,with the sunsets clothing them....We shall not leave Florence till November --Robert must see Mr.Landor (his adopted son,Sarianna)settled in his new apartments with Wilson for a duenna.

It's an excellent plan for him and not a bad one for Wilson....

Forgive me if Robert has told you this already.Dear darling Robert amuses me by talking of his "gentleness and sweetness".

A most courteous and refined gentleman he is,of course,and very affectionate to Robert (as he ought to be),but of self-restraint,he has not a grain,and of suspiciousness,many grains.

Wilson will run many risks,and I,for one,would rather not run them.

What do you say to dashing down a plate on the floor when you don't like what's on it?And the contadini at whose house he is lodging now have been already accused of opening desks.Still upon that occasion (though there was talk of the probability of Mr.Landor's "throat being cut in his sleep"--)as on other occasions,Robert succeeded in soothing him --and the poor old lion is very quiet on the whole,roaring softly,to beguile the time,in Latin alcaics against his wife and Louis Napoleon.

He laughs carnivorously when I tell him that one of these days he will have to write an ode in honour of the Emperor,to please me.'

Mrs.Browning writes,somewhat later,from Rome:

'...We left Mr.Landor in great comfort.I went to see his apartment before it was furnished.Rooms small,but with a look-out into a little garden,quiet and cheerful,and he doesn't mind a situation rather out of the way.He pays four pounds ten (English)the month.

Wilson has thirty pounds a year for taking care of him --which sounds a good deal,but it is a difficult position.He has excellent,generous,affectionate impulses --but the impulses of the tiger,every now and then.

Nothing coheres in him --either in his opinions,or,I fear,his affections.

It isn't age --he is precisely the man of his youth,I must believe.

Still,his genius gives him the right of gratitude on all artists at least,and I must say that my Robert has generously paid the debt.

Robert always said that he owed more as a writer to Landor than to any contemporary.At present Landor is very fond of him --but I am quite prepared for his turning against us as he has turned against Forster,who has been so devoted for years and years.

Only one isn't kind for what one gets by it,or there wouldn't be much kindness in this world....'

Mr.Browning always declared that his wife could impute evil to no one,that she was a living denial of that doctrine of original sin to which her Christianity pledged her;and the great breadth and perfect charity of her views habitually justified the assertion;but she evidently possessed a keen insight into character,which made her complete suspension of judgment on the subject of Spiritualism very difficult to understand.

The spiritualistic coterie had found a satisfactory way of explaining Mr.Browning's antagonistic attitude towards it.

He was jealous,it was said,because the Spirits on one occasion had dropped a crown on to his wife's head and none on to his own.

The first instalment of his long answer to this grotesque accusation appears in a letter of Mrs.Browning's,probably written in the course of the winter of 1859-60.

'...My brother George sent me a number of the "National Magazine"with my face in it,after Marshall Wood's medallion.My comfort is that my greatest enemy will not take it to be like me,only that does not go far with the indifferent public:the portrait I suppose will have its due weight in arresting the sale of "Aurora Leigh"from henceforth.

You never saw a more determined visage of a strong-minded woman with the neck of a vicious bull....Still,I am surprised,I own,at the amount of success,and that golden-hearted Robert is in ecstasies about it,far more than if it all related to a book of his own.The form of the story,and also,something in the philosophy,seem to have caught the crowd.

As to the poetry by itself,anything good in that repels rather.

I am not so blind as Romney,not to perceive this ...