_E.B.B. to R.B._
Monday.
[Post-mark, December 16, 1845.]
Mr. Kenyon has not come--he does not come so often, I think. Did he
_know_ from _you_ that you were to see me last Thursday? If he did it
might be as well, do you not think? to go to him next week. Will it
not seem frequent, otherwise? But if you did _not_ tell him of
Thursday distinctly (_I_ did not--remember!), he might take the
Wednesday's visit to be the substitute for rather than the successor
of Thursday's: and in that case, why not write a word to him yourself
to propose dining with him as he suggested? He really wishes to see
you--of that, I am sure. But you will know what is best to do, and he
may come here to-morrow perhaps, and ask a whole set of questions
about you; so my right hand may forget its cunning for any good it
does. Only don't send messages by _me_, please!
How happy I am with your letter to-night.
When I had sent away my last letter I began to remember, and could not
help smiling to do so, that I had totally forgotten the great subject
of my 'fame,' and the oath you administered about it--totally! Now how
do you read that omen? If I forget myself, who is to remember me, do
you think?--except _you_?--which brings me where I would stay.
Yes--'yours' it must be, but _you_, it had better be! But, to leave
the vain superstitions, let me go on to assure you that I did mean to
answer that part of your former letter, and do mean to behave well and
be obedient. Your wish would be enough, even if there could be
likelihood without it of my doing nothing ever again. Oh, certainly I
have been idle--it comes of lotus-eating--and, besides, of sitting too
long in the sun. Yet 'idle' may not be the word! silent I have been,
through too many thoughts to speak just _that_!--As to writing letters
and reading manuscripts' filling all my time, why I must lack 'vital
energy' indeed--you do not mean seriously to fancy such a thing of me!
For the rest.... Tell me--Is it your opinion that when the apostle
Paul saw the unspeakable things, being snatched up into the third
Heavens 'whether in the body or out of the body he could not
tell,'--is it your opinion that, all the week after, he worked
particularly hard at the tent-making? For my part, I doubt it.
I would not speak profanely or extravagantly--it is not the best way
to thank God. But to say only that I was in the desert and that I am
among the palm-trees, is to say nothing ... because it is easy to
_understand how_, after walking straight on ... on ... furlong after
furlong ... dreary day after dreary day, ... one may come to the end
of the sand and within sight of the fountain:--there is nothing
miraculous in _that_, you know!
Yet even in that case, to doubt whether it may not all be _mirage_,
would be the natural first thought, the recurring dream-fear! now
would it not? And you can reproach me for _my_ thoughts, as if _they_
were unnatural!
Never mind about the third act--the advantage is that you will not
tire yourself perhaps the next week. What gladness it is that you
should really seem better, and how much better _that_ is than even
'Luria.'
Mrs. Jameson came to-day--but I will tell you.
May God bless you now and always.