Anne Isabella Noel Byron, Brighton, to Henry Crabb Robinson, 30 Russell Square, London, 31 December [1853].

[f. 108r]

Brighton

Decr 31st

(1853)

Dear Mr Crabb Robinson

       Agreed, is all I will say to the conversation which you have so kindly reported to me.

      I have an inclination, if I were not afraid of trespassing upon your time, (but you can put my letter by for any leisure moment) to enter upon the history of a Character which I think less appreciated than it ought to be. Tho’ more by your self than others, – his, who reminds you of “Nicodemus” – Men I observe, do not understand men in certain points without [f. 108v] a woman’s interpretation. Those points, of course, relate to feelings.

      Here is a man, taken by most of those who come in his way, either for Dry-as-dust Matter-of-Fact, – or for a “vain visionary” – There are doubtless some defective or excessive characteristics which give rise to those impressions – My acquaintance was made oddly enough with him 27 years ago. A pauper said to me of him, “he’s the poor man’s doctor” – Such a recommendation seemed to me a good one, & I also knew that his organizing head had formed the first District Society in England (for Mrs Fry told me she could not have effected it without his aid) – yet he has always [f. 109r] ignored his own share of it – I felt in him at once the curious combination of the Xtian & the Cynic – of reverence for Man, & contempt of men. It was then an internal war – but one in which it was evident to me that the Holier cause would be victorious, because there was deep Belief, & as far as I could learn, a blameless & benevolent life. – He appeared only to want Sunshine – it was a plant which could not be brought to perfection in darkness. He had begun life by the most painful conflict between Filial Duty & Conscience – a large provision in the Church secured for him by his Father, – but he could not sign. There was discredit, as [f. 109v] you know, attached to such Scruples – The amiable & highly principled Lady whom he married, was not only Evangelical herself, but was surrounded by those who were so in the strongest degree, & who held her husband as almost beyond the pale of salvation, yet in his meek & forbearing course, he never expressed an opinion which could pain or irritate her whom he loved as few can love. – He looked for approximation ultimately, in the uniting effects of trying to “do the Will,” on each side.

       He was also when I first knew him, under other circumstances of a nature to depress him, & to make him feel that he was unjustly treated. The gradual removal of these called forth his better nature in thankfulness to God. Still the [f. 110r] old misanthropic modes of expressing himself obtruded themselves at times. This passed in ’48, between him & Robertson. R. said to me, “I want to know something about Ragged Schools” – I replied “You had better ask Dr K.— he knows more about them.” “I,” said Dr K, “I take care to know nothing of Ragged Schools, lest they, should make me ragged.” R. did not see through it & was disgusted. Perhaps I had been taught to understand such suicidal speeches by my cousin Lord Melbourne.

       The example of Christ, imperfectly, as it may be understood by him, has been ever before his eyes – he woke to the thought of following it, & he went to rest, consoled or rebuked by it. – After nearly 30 [f. 110v] years of intimacy, I may without presumption form that opinion. There is something pathetic to me in seeing any one so unknown even the other medical friends of R.’s when I knew that Dr K. felt a woman’s tenderness, said on one occasion to him “but we know that you, Dr K., are above all feeling!”

       If I have made the character more consistent to you, by putting in these bits of mosaic, my pen will not have been ill employed, nor unpleasingly to you.

                         Yours truly

                                      AI. Noel Byron

[f. 111r] P.S.

      After all I have not answered your question. Dr King’s abstracts of the Sermons would not do for the Public – They are the mere statistics of the Mind – valuable to those who want to know what he thought, not how he thought, for the last is lost.

Text:  MS-DEP Lovelace-Byron 109, fol. 8; this letter is a copy, Bodleian Library, Oxford.