oem of
mine called 'The Island,'[33] but so incorrectly that I was glad at
the additional oblivion of my signature. If you see it, pray alter the
last senseless line of the first page into 'Leaf sounds with water, in
your ear,' and put 'amreeta' instead of 'amneta' on the second page;
and strike out '_of_' in the line which names Aeschylus! There are
other blunders, [but] these are intolerable, and cast me out of my
'contentment' for some time. I have begged for [proof] sheets in
future; and as none have come for the ensuing month, I suppose I shall
have nothing in the next number. They have a lyrical dramatic poem of
mine, 'The Two Seraphim,' which, whenever it appears, I shall like to
have your opinion of. As to the incomprehensible line in the 'Poet's
Vow' of which you asked me the meaning, 'One making one in strong
compass,' I meant to express how that oneness of God, 'in whom are all
things,' produces a oneness or sympathy (sympathy being the tendency
of many to become one) in all things. Do you understand? or is the
explanation to be explained? The unity of God preserves a unity in
men--that is, a perpetual sympathy between man and man--which sympathy
we must be subject to, if not in our joys, yet in our griefs. I
believe the subject itself involves the necessity of some mysticism;
but I must make no excuses. I am afraid that my very Seraphim will not
be thought to stand in a very clear light, even at heaven's gate. But
this is much _asay_ about nothing ...

The Bishop of Exeter is staying and preaching at Torquay. Do you not
envy them all for making part of his congregation? I am sure I do
_as much_. I envy you your before-breakfast activity. I am never a
_complete man_ without my breakfast--it seems to be some integral part
of my soul. _You_ 'read all O'Connell's speeches.' I never read any of
them--unless they take me by surprise. I keep my devotion for _unpaid_
patriots; but Miss Mitford is another devotee of Mr. O'Connell ...

Dearest Mrs. Martin's affectionate
E.B. BARRETT.

Thank you for the 'Ba' in Henrietta's letter. If you knew how many
people, whom I have known only within this year or two, whether I like
them or not, say 'Ba, Ba,' quite naturally and pastorally, you would
not come to me with the detestable 'Miss B.'

[Footnote 32: Serjeant Talfourd.]

[Footnote 33: _Poetical Works_, ii. 248.]

_To Mrs. Martin_
London: August 16, 1837.

My dear Mrs. Martin,--It seems a long long time since w