And the silent promise I would have you make is this--that if ever you
should leave me, it shall be (though you are not 'selfish') for your
sake--and not for mine: for your good, and not for mine. I ask it--not
because I am disinterested; but because one class of motives would be
valid, and the other void--simply for that reason.
Then the _femme qui parle_ (looking back over the parlance) did not
mean to say on the first page of this letter that she was ever for a
moment _vexed in her pride_ that she should owe anything to her
adversities. It was only because adversities are accidents and not
essentials. If it had been prosperities, it would have been the same
thing--no, not the same thing!--but far worse.
Occy is up to-day and doing well.
_R.B. to E.B.B._
[Post-mark, October 27, 1845.]
How does one make 'silent promises' ... or, rather, how does the maker
of them communicate that fact to whomsoever it may concern? I know,
there have been many, very many unutterable vows and promises
made,--that is, _thought_ down upon--the white slip at the top of my
notes,--such as of this note; and not trusted to the pen, that always
comes in for the shame,--but given up, and replaced by the poor forms
to which a pen is equal; and a glad minute I should account _that_, in
which you collected and accepted _those_ 'promises'--because they
would not be all so unworthy of me--much less you! I would receive, in
virtue of _them_, the ascription of whatever worthiness is supposed to
lie in deep, truest love, and gratitude--
Read my silent answer there too!
All your letter is one comfort: we will be happy this winter, and
after, do not fear. I am most happy, to begin, that your brother is so
much better: he must be weak and susceptible of cold, remember.
It was on my lip, I do think, _last_ visit, or the last but one, to
beg you to detach those papers from the _Athenæum's gâchis_. Certainly
this opportunity is _most_ favourable, for every reason: you cannot
hesitate, surely. At present those papers are lost--_lost_ for
practical purposes. Do pray reply without fail to the proposers; no,
no harm of these really fine fellows, who _could_ do harm (by printing
incorrect copies, and perhaps eking out the column by suppositious
matter ... ex-gr. they strengthened and lengthened a book of Dickens',
in Paris, by adding quant. suff. of Thackeray's 'Yellowplush Papers'
... as I discovered by a Parisian somebody praising the latter to me
as Dickens' best work!)--and who _do_ really a good straightforward
un-American thing. You will encourage 'the day of small
things'--though this is not small, nor likely to have small results. I
shall be impatient to hear that you have decided. I like the progress
of these Americans in taste, their amazing leaps, like grasshoppers up
to the sun--from ... what is the '_from_,' what depth, do you
remember, say, ten or twelve years back?--_to_--Carlyle, and Tennyson,
and you! So children leave off Jack of Cornwall and go on just to
Homer.
I can't conceive why my proof does not come--I must go to-morrow and
see. In the other, I have corrected all the points you noted, to their
evident improvement. Yesterday I took out 'Luria' and read it
through--the skeleton--I shall hope to finish it soon now. It is for a
purely imaginary stage,--very simple and straightforward. Would you
... no, Act by Act, as I was about to propose that you should read it;
that process would affect the oneness I most wish to preserve.
On Tuesday--at last, I am with you. Till when be with me ever,
dearest--God bless you ever--