This first period of Mr.Browning's widowed life was one of unutterable dreariness,in which the smallest and yet most unconquerable element was the prosaic ugliness of everything which surrounded him.It was fifteen years since he had spent a winter in England;he had never spent one in London.There had been nothing to break for him the transition from the stately beauty of Florence to the impressions and associations of the Harrow and Edgware Roads,and of Paddington Green.He might have escaped this neighbourhood by way of Westbourne Terrace;but his walks constantly led him in an easterly direction;and whether in an unconscious hugging of his chains,or,as was more probable,from the desire to save time,he would drag his aching heart and reluctant body through the sordidness or the squalor of this short cut,rather than seek the pleasanter thoroughfares which were open to him.Even the prettiness of Warwick Crescent was neutralized for him by the atmosphere of low or ugly life which encompassed it on almost every side.His haunting dream was one day to have done with it all;to have fulfilled his mission with his son,educated him,launched him in a suitable career,and to go back to sunshine and beauty again.He learned by degrees to regard London as a home;as the only fitting centre for the varied energies which were reviving in him;to feel pride and pleasure in its increasingly picturesque character.
He even learned to appreciate the outlook from his house --that 'second from the bridge'of which so curious a presentment had entered into one of the poems of the 'Men and Women'--in spite of the refuse of humanity which would sometimes yell at the street corner,or fling stones at his plate-glass.
But all this had to come;and it is only fair to admit that twenty-nine years ago the beauties of which I have spoken were in great measure to come also.He could not then in any mood have exclaimed,as he did to a friend two or three years ago:
'Shall we not have a pretty London if things go on in this way?'
They were driving on the Kensington side of Hyde Park.
The paternal duty,which,so much against his inclination,had established Mr.Browning in England,would in every case have lain very near to his conscience and to his heart;but it especially urged itself upon them through the absence of any injunction concerning it on his wife's part.No farewell words of hers had commended their child to his father's love and care;and though he may,for the moment,have imputed this fact to unconsciousness of her approaching death,his deeper insight soon construed the silence into an expression of trust,more binding upon him than the most earnest exacted promise could have been.
The growing boy's education occupied a considerable part of his time and thoughts,for he had determined not to send him to school,but,as far as possible,himself prepare him for the University.
He must also,in some degree,have supervised his recreations.
He had therefore,for the present,little leisure for social distractions,and probably at first very little inclination for them.
His plan of life and duty,and the sense of responsibility attendant on it,had been communicated to Madame du Quaire in a letter written also from St.-Enogat.
M.Chauvin,St.-Enogat pres Dinard,Ile et Vilaine:Aug.17,'61.
Dear Madame du Quaire,--I got your note on Sunday afternoon,but found myself unable to call on you as I had been intending to do.
Next morning I left for this place (near St.-Malo,but I give what they say is the proper address).I want first to beg you to forgive my withholding so long your little oval mirror --it is safe in Paris,and I am vexed at having stupidly forgotten to bring it when I tried to see you.I shall stay here till the autumn sets in,then return to Paris for a few days --the first of which will be the best,if I can see you in the course of it --afterward,I settle in London.
When I meant to pass the winter in Paris,I hoped,the first thing almost,to be near you --it now seems to me,however,that the best course for the Boy is to begin a good English education at once.
I shall take quiet lodgings (somewhere near Kensington Gardens,I rather think)and get a Tutor.I want,if I can (according to my present very imperfect knowledge)to get the poor little fellow fit for the University without passing thro'a Public School.I,myself,could never have done much by either process,but he is made differently --imitates and emulates and all that.How I should be grateful if you would help me by any word that should occur to you!
I may easily do wrong,begin ill,thro'too much anxiety --perhaps,however,all may be easier than seems to me just now.
I shall have a great comfort in talking to you --this writing is stiff,ineffectual work.Pen is very well,cheerful now,--has his little horse here.The place is singularly unspoiled,fresh and picturesque,and lovely to heart's content.
I wish you were here!--and if you knew exactly what such a wish means,you would need no assuring in addition that I am Yours affectionately and gratefully ever Robert Browning.
