_R.B. to E.B.B._
Wednesday Night.
[Post-mark, October 30, 1845.]
Like your kindness--too, far too generous kindness,--all this trouble
and correcting,--and it is my proper office now, by this time, to sit
still and receive, by right _Human_ (as opposed to Divine). When you
see the pamphlet's self, you will find your own doing,--but where will
you find the proofs of the best of all helping and counselling and
inciting, unless in new works which shall justify the
_unsatisfaction_, if I may not say shame, at these, these written
before your time, my best love?
Are you doing well to-day? For I feel well, have walked some eight or
nine miles--and my mother is very much better ... is singularly
better. You know whether you rejoiced me or no by that information
about the exercise _you_ had taken yesterday. Think what telling one
that you grow stronger would mean!
'Vexatious' with you! Ah, prudence is all very right, and one ought,
no doubt, to say, 'of course, we shall not expect a life exempt from
the usual proportion of &c. &c.--' but truth is still more right, and
includes the highest prudence besides, and I do believe that we shall
be happy; that is, that _you_ will be happy: you see I dare
confidently expect _the_ end to it all ... so it has always been with
me in my life of wonders--absolute wonders, with God's hand over
all.... And this last and best of all would never have begun so, and
gone on so, to break off abruptly even here, in this world, for the
little time.
So try, try, dearest, every method, take every measure of hastening
such a consummation. Why, we shall see Italy together! I could, would,
_will_ shut myself in four walls of a room with you and never leave
you and be most of all _then_ 'a lord of infinite space'--but, to
travel with you to Italy, or Greece. Very vain, I know that, all such
day dreaming! And ungrateful, too; with the real sufficing happiness
here of being, and knowing that you know me to be, and suffer me to
tell you I am yours, ever your own.