Part 40 (1/2)
W.E. GLADSTONE
_Lady Russell to Lady Agatha Russell_
DUNROZEL, HASLEMERE, _August_ 30, 1886
... Our Sunday, mine especially, was a peaceful, lovely Sabbath--mine especially because I didn't go to any church built with hands, but held my silent, solitary wors.h.i.+p in G.o.d's own glorious temple, with no walls to limit my view, no lower roof than the blue heavens over my head. The lawn, the green walk, the Sunday bench in the triangle, each and all seemed filled with holiness and prayer--sadness and sorrow. Visions of more than one beautiful past which those spots have known and which never can return, were there too; but the Eternal Love was around to hallow them....
_Lady Russell to Miss Buhler_
PEMBROKE LODGE, _November_ 24, 1886
MY DEAREST DORA,--I am afraid you will say that I have forgotten you and your most loving and welcome birthday letter, but as I know you will not _think_ it, I don't so very much mind. n.o.body at seventy-one and with many still to love and leave on earth, can hail a birthday with much gladness.... The _real_ sadness to me of birthdays, and of all marked days, is in the bitterly disappointing answer I am obliged to make to myself to the question: ”Am I nearer to G.o.d than a year ago?” ... I never answered your long-ago letter about your doubts and difficulties and speculations on those subjects which are of deepest import to us all, yet upon which it sometimes seems that we are doomed to work our minds in vain--to seek, and _not_ to find--to exult one moment in the fullness of bright hope and the coming fulfilment of our highest aspirations, and the next to grope in darkness and say, ”Was it not a beautiful dream, and only a dream? Is it not too good to be true that we are the children of a loving Father who stretches out His hands to guide us to Himself, who has spoken to us in a thousand ways from the beginning of the world by His wondrous works, by the unity of creation, by the voices of our fellow-creatures, by that voice, most inspired of all, that life and death most beautiful and glorious of all, which 'brought life and immortality to light,' and chiefly by that which we feel to be immortal within us--_love_--the beginning and end of G.o.d's own nature, the supreme capability which He has breathed into our souls?” No, it is _not_ too good to be true. Nothing perishes--not the smallest particle of the most worthless material thing. Is immortality denied to the one thing most worthy of it?
I sent you ”The Utopian,” because I thought some of the little essays would fall in with all that filled your mind, and perhaps help you to a spirit of hopefulness and confidence which _will_ come to you and abide with you, I am sure. You will soon receive another book written by several Unitarians, of which I have only read very little as yet, but which seems to me full of strength and comfort and holiness.... Good-bye, and G.o.d bless you.
Your ever affectionate,
F. RUSSELL
_Lady Charlotte Portal to Lady Russell_
_January_ 26, 1887
DEAREST f.a.n.n.y,--I wonder if you are quite easy in your conscience, or whatever mechanism takes the place with you of that rococo old article. Do you think you have behaved to me as an elder ought?--to me, a poor young thing, looking for and sadly requiring the guidance of my white-headed sister? Our last communications were at Christmas-time--a month ago. Are you all well? Are you all entirely at the feet of the dear baby boy? [106] Or have your republican principles begun to rebel against his autocratic sway? ... I have been amusing myself with an obscure author named William Shakespeare, and enjoying him _immensely_. Amusing myself is not the right expression, for I have been in the tragedies only. I had not read ”Oth.e.l.lo” for ages. How wonderful, great, and beautiful and painful it is (oh dear, why is it so coa.r.s.e?). Then I also read ”Lear” and ”Henry VIII,” and being delightfully ignorant I had the great interest of reading the same period (Henry VIII) in Holinshed, and in finding Katharine's and Wolsey's speeches there!
Then I have tried a little Ben Jonson and Lord Chesterfield's letters. What a worldling, and what a destroyer of a young mind that man was. Can you tell me how the son turned out? I cannot find any information about him. The language is delightful, and I wish I could remember any of his expressions.... Now give me a volume of Pembroke Lodge news in return for this. Public matters, the fear of war, the arming of all nations, make me sick at heart. How wonderful and admirable the conduct of that poor friendless little Bulgaria has been. Then Ireland, oh me! but on that topic I won't write to the Home Ruler!
Your affectionate sister,
C.M.P.
[106] Arthur, son of Mr. Rollo Russell.
_Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal_
PEMBROKE LODGE, _January_ 27, 1887
DEAREST LOTTY,--It was but yesterday that there rose dimly to my memory the vision of a lady with the initials--C.M.P., and who knows how long I might have remained in the dark as to who and what she might be but for this letter, in which she claims me as a sister! and moreover an elder and a wiser sister! one therefore whose doings and not-doings, writing and not-writing, must not be questioned by the younger....
We have imagined ourselves living in a state of isolation from our fellow-creatures, but yours far exceeds ours and makes it almost into a life of gaiety. I'm most extremely sorry to hear of it, though most extremely glad to hear that your minds to you a kingdom are. What good and wholesome and delightful food _your_ mind has been living on. Isn't that Shakespeare too much of a marvel to have really been a man? ”Oth.e.l.lo” is indeed all you say of it, and more than anybody can say of it, and so are _all_ the great plays. I am reading the historical ones with Bertie.... Alas, indeed, for the coa.r.s.eness! I never can understand the objections to Bowdlerism. It seems to me so right and natural to prune away what can do n.o.body good--what it pains eyes to look upon and ears to hear--and to leave all the glories and beauties untouched....
The little Autocrat is beginning to master some of the maxims of Const.i.tutional Monarchy--for instance, to find out that we do not always leave the room the moment he waves his hand by way of dismissal and utters the command of ”Tata.” I waste too much time upon him, in spite of daily resolutions to neglect him.... I don't at all know whether Lord Chesterfield succeeded in making his son like his own clever, worldly, contemptible self, but will try to find out. _Have_ you read ”Dean Maitland”? [107] Now, f.a.n.n.y, do stop, you know you have many other letters to write....
Ever thine,
F.R.