It will be remembered that some time after the correspondence with Sir William Elford had been well established, he suggested to Miss Mitford that much of the literary criticism contained in the letters was valuable and might be edited with a view to publication. To this Miss Mitford would not consent at the time, for, although the idea appealed to her, she feared that her rather outspoken comments on contemporary authors might, if published during their lifetime, lead to unpleasantness which it were wiser to avoid. Many years had now elapsed since the suggestion was made, and many changes had, in consequence, taken place. The death of a large number of the authors mentioned had removed Miss Mitford’s principal objection. She herself was now a comparatively old woman, with a maturer judgment, whose criticism was therefore more likely to command respect, and as the death of her father had increased her leisure for the performance of literary work—and she was still unwilling to tackle the long-projected novel—she arranged with Miss Elford (Sir William being dead) to gather the letters together and forward them to Three Mile Cross. The task thus undertaken was both congenial and easy, and by the time of her removal to Swallowfield she had made such progress that it was decided to publish without delay. Mr. Bentley, who was approached on the subject, suggested that the work be amplified and issued in three volumes under the title of Recollections of Books. Acting on this advice, Miss Mitford completed the work, after she had settled herself in her new home, and by 1852 the book was published under the more imposing title of Recollections of a Literary Life, and Selections from my Favourite Poets and Prose Writers. It was dedicated to Henry F. Chorley, one of a number of young men whose dramatic and literary talent had brought him under the author’s notice some years before and which, as usual, resulted in the establishment of a warm friendship between the two. The book was much sought after and, on the whole, was well received, although certain of the critics thought the title too ambiguous—a criticism which Miss Mitford disarmed, somewhat, by admitting, in the Preface, that it gave a very imperfect idea of the contents. News of her removal took many old friends to Swallowfield, anxious to see whether the change was for the better. Ruskin was delighted with it; so too, in a modified sense, was young James Payn, “that splendidly handsome lad of twenty-three—full of beauty, mental and physical, and with a sensibility and grace of mind such as I have rarely known.”
Miss Mitford’s Cottage at Swallowfield, in 1913.
Mr. Payn’s Literary Recollections, published in 1884, contain some delightful pen-portraiture of his old friend, whom he calls “the dear little old lady, looking like a venerable fairy, with bright sparkling eyes, a clear, incisive voice, and a laugh that carried you away with it.” Here, too, came Charles Boner from America, and Mr. Fields, the publisher, the latter bringing with him Nathaniel Hawthorne—“whom he found starving and has made almost affluent by his encouragement and liberality”—with each of whom a constant correspondence was afterwards maintained. Many of the letters to Mr. Boner are to be found in his Memoirs, published in 1871, while Mr. Fields gives a charming reminiscent sketch of Miss Mitford in his Yesterdays with Authors, published in 1872. Like all the visitors to Swallowfield, Mr. Fields took a great fancy to “little Henry,” and at Miss Mitford’s own request he agreed that when the boy should be fourteen years of age he should be sent to America to be apprenticed to the publisher’s business of which Mr. Fields was the head. The arrangement was one which gave the keenest delight to Miss Mitford, who was most anxious that her little companion should be properly and adequately provided for. Unfortunately (or fortunately—for little Henry eventually became a Missionary), the arrangement fell through, but Miss Mitford did her best to provide for the boy’s welfare by making him her sole legatee.
Among the letters of 1851, written just prior to her removal, Miss Mitford frequently mentioned Charles Kingsley, who had by this time made himself felt as a strong man in the neighbouring village of Eversley, in addition to the fame which his literary work had brought him. “I hope to know him when I move,” wrote Miss Mitford, “for he visits many of my friends.” In another letter she remarked:—“ Alton Locke is well worth reading. There are in it worldwide truths nicely put, but then it is painful and inconclusive. Did I tell (perhaps I did) that the author begged Mr. Chapman to keep the secret?” [of the authorship], “and Chapman was prepared to be as mysterious as Churchill on the ‘Vestiges’ question, when he found Mr. Kingsley had told everybody, and that all his fibs were falsehoods thrown away!”
It was not long, however, before Mr. Kingsley called at the cottage and commenced a friendship which lasted until Miss Mitford’s death. She found him “charming—that beau-ideal of a young poet, whom I never thought to see—frank, ardent, spirited, soft, gentle, high-bred above all.” It was a friendship which ripened rapidly, for Kingsley loved to discuss deep social questions with this learned little woman who, although at first she did not like his opinions, came to see that he was not far wrong and indeed developed into one of his most ardent supporters. In the October of 1852, the first year of their friendship, Kingsley wrote a sonnet which he dedicated
“To the Authoress of ‘Our Village.’
“The single eye; the daughter of the light,
Well pleased to recognize in lowliest shade
Each glimmer of its parent ray, and made,