Life and Letters of Robert Browning [28]
would give something to be allowed to read it some morning to you --
for every rap o' the knuckles I should get a clap o' the back, I know.
I have another affair on hand, rather of a more popular nature, I conceive,
but not so decisive and explicit on a point or two -- so I decide
on trying the question with this: -- I really shall NEED your notice,
on this account; I shall affix my name and stick my arms akimbo;
there are a few precious bold bits here and there, and the drift and scope
are awfully radical -- I am `off' for ever with the other side,
but must by all means be `on' with yours -- a position once gained,
worthier works shall follow -- therefore a certain writer*
who meditated a notice (it matters not laudatory or otherwise) on `Pauline'
in the `Examiner', must be benignant or supercilious as he shall choose,
but in no case an idle spectator of my first appearance on any stage
(having previously only dabbled in private theatricals)
and bawl `Hats off!' `Down in front!' &c., as soon as I get to the proscenium;
and he may depend that tho' my `Now is the winter of our discontent'
be rather awkward, yet there shall be occasional outbreaks of good stuff --
that I shall warm as I get on, and finally wish `Richmond at the bottom
of the seas,' &c. in the best style imaginable.
--
* Mr. John Stuart Mill.
--
Excuse all this swagger, I know you will, and
==
(The signature has been cut off; evidently for an autograph.)
Mr. Effingham Wilson was induced to publish the poem, but more, we understand,
on the ground of radical sympathies in Mr. Fox and the author
than on that of its intrinsic worth.
The title-page of `Paracelsus' introduces us to one of the warmest friendships
of Mr. Browning's life. Count de Ripert-Monclar was a young French Royalist,
one of those who had accompanied the Duchesse de Berri
on her Chouan expedition, and was then, for a few years,
spending his summers in England; ostensibly for his pleasure,
really -- as he confessed to the Browning family -- in the character
of private agent of communication between the royal exiles
and their friends in France. He was four years older than the poet,
and of intellectual tastes which created an immediate bond of union
between them. In the course of one of their conversations,
he suggested the life of Paracelsus as a possible subject for a poem;
but on second thoughts pronounced it unsuitable, because it gave no room
for the introduction of love: about which, he added,
every young man of their age thought he had something quite new to say.
Mr. Browning decided, after the necessary study, that he would write a poem
on Paracelsus, but treating him in his own way. It was dedicated,
in fulfilment of a promise, to the friend to whom its inspiration
had been due.
The Count's visits to England entirely ceased, and the two friends
did not meet for twenty years. Then, one day, in a street in Rome,
Mr. Browning heard a voice behind him crying, `Robert!'
He turned, and there was `Amedee'. Both were, by that time, married;
the Count -- then, I believe, Marquis -- to an English lady, Miss Jerningham.
Mrs. Browning, to whom of course he was introduced, liked him very much.*
--
* A minor result of the intimacy was that Mr. Browning
became member, in 1835, of the Institut Historique,
and in 1836 of the Societe Francaise de Statistique Universelle,
to both of which learned bodies his friend belonged.
--
Mr. Browning did treat Paracelsus in his own way; and in so doing
produced a character -- at all events a history -- which,
according to recent judgments, approached far nearer to the reality
than any conception which had until then been formed of it.
He had carefully collected all the known facts of the great discoverer's life,
and interpreted them with a sympathy which was no less
an intuition of their truth than a reflection of his own genius upon them.
We are enabled in some measure to judge of this by a paper entitled
`Paracelsus, the Reformer of Medicine', written by Dr. Edward Berdoe
for every rap o' the knuckles I should get a clap o' the back, I know.
I have another affair on hand, rather of a more popular nature, I conceive,
but not so decisive and explicit on a point or two -- so I decide
on trying the question with this: -- I really shall NEED your notice,
on this account; I shall affix my name and stick my arms akimbo;
there are a few precious bold bits here and there, and the drift and scope
are awfully radical -- I am `off' for ever with the other side,
but must by all means be `on' with yours -- a position once gained,
worthier works shall follow -- therefore a certain writer*
who meditated a notice (it matters not laudatory or otherwise) on `Pauline'
in the `Examiner', must be benignant or supercilious as he shall choose,
but in no case an idle spectator of my first appearance on any stage
(having previously only dabbled in private theatricals)
and bawl `Hats off!' `Down in front!' &c., as soon as I get to the proscenium;
and he may depend that tho' my `Now is the winter of our discontent'
be rather awkward, yet there shall be occasional outbreaks of good stuff --
that I shall warm as I get on, and finally wish `Richmond at the bottom
of the seas,' &c. in the best style imaginable.
--
* Mr. John Stuart Mill.
--
Excuse all this swagger, I know you will, and
==
(The signature has been cut off; evidently for an autograph.)
Mr. Effingham Wilson was induced to publish the poem, but more, we understand,
on the ground of radical sympathies in Mr. Fox and the author
than on that of its intrinsic worth.
The title-page of `Paracelsus' introduces us to one of the warmest friendships
of Mr. Browning's life. Count de Ripert-Monclar was a young French Royalist,
one of those who had accompanied the Duchesse de Berri
on her Chouan expedition, and was then, for a few years,
spending his summers in England; ostensibly for his pleasure,
really -- as he confessed to the Browning family -- in the character
of private agent of communication between the royal exiles
and their friends in France. He was four years older than the poet,
and of intellectual tastes which created an immediate bond of union
between them. In the course of one of their conversations,
he suggested the life of Paracelsus as a possible subject for a poem;
but on second thoughts pronounced it unsuitable, because it gave no room
for the introduction of love: about which, he added,
every young man of their age thought he had something quite new to say.
Mr. Browning decided, after the necessary study, that he would write a poem
on Paracelsus, but treating him in his own way. It was dedicated,
in fulfilment of a promise, to the friend to whom its inspiration
had been due.
The Count's visits to England entirely ceased, and the two friends
did not meet for twenty years. Then, one day, in a street in Rome,
Mr. Browning heard a voice behind him crying, `Robert!'
He turned, and there was `Amedee'. Both were, by that time, married;
the Count -- then, I believe, Marquis -- to an English lady, Miss Jerningham.
Mrs. Browning, to whom of course he was introduced, liked him very much.*
--
* A minor result of the intimacy was that Mr. Browning
became member, in 1835, of the Institut Historique,
and in 1836 of the Societe Francaise de Statistique Universelle,
to both of which learned bodies his friend belonged.
--
Mr. Browning did treat Paracelsus in his own way; and in so doing
produced a character -- at all events a history -- which,
according to recent judgments, approached far nearer to the reality
than any conception which had until then been formed of it.
He had carefully collected all the known facts of the great discoverer's life,
and interpreted them with a sympathy which was no less
an intuition of their truth than a reflection of his own genius upon them.
We are enabled in some measure to judge of this by a paper entitled
`Paracelsus, the Reformer of Medicine', written by Dr. Edward Berdoe