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The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume II by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
page 55 of 565 (09%)
an English acquaintance here told us that she had been hearing a lecture
at the Collège de France, and that the professor, M. Philaret Chasles,
in the introduction to a series of lectures on English poetry, had
expressed his intention of noticing Tennyson, Browning, &c., and
E.B.B.--'from whose private life the veil had been raised in so
interesting a manner lately by Miss Mitford.' In the midst of my anxiety
about this, up comes a writer of the 'Revue des Deux Mondes' to my
husband, to say that he was preparing a review upon me and had been
directed by the editor to make use of some biographical details
extracted from your book into the 'Athenæum,' but that it had occurred
to him doubtfully whether certain things might not be painful to me, and
whether I might not prefer their being omitted in his paper. (All this
time we had seen neither book nor 'Athenæum.') Robert answered for me
that the omission of such and such things would be much preferred by me,
and accordingly the article appears in the 'Revue' with the passage from
your book garbled and curtailed as seemed best to the quoter. Then
Robert set about procuring the 'Athenæum' in question. He tells me (and
_that_ I perfectly believe) that, for the facts to be given at all, they
could not possibly be given with greater delicacy; oh, and I will add
for myself, that for them to be related by anyone during my life, I
would rather have _you_ to relate them than another. But why should they
be related during my life? There was no need, no need. To show my
nervous susceptibility in the length and breadth of it to you, I _could
not_ (when it came to the point) _bear to read_ the passage extracted in
the 'Athenæum,' notwithstanding my natural anxiety to see exactly what
was done. I could not bear to do it. I made Robert read it aloud--with
omissions--so that I know all your kindness. I feel it deeply; through
tears of pain I feel it; and if, as I dare say you will, you think me
very very foolish, do not on that account think me ungrateful.
Ungrateful I never can be to you, my much loved and kindest friend.
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