Tuesday.
January 27, 1846.
Why will you give me such unnecessary proofs of your goodness? Why not leave the books for me to take away, at all events? No – – you must fold up, and tie round, and seal over, and be at all the pains in the world with those hands I see now. But you only threaten; say you ‘shall send’ – – as yet, and nothing having come, I do pray you, if not too late, to save me the shame – – add to the gratitude you never can now, I think . . . only think, for you are a siren, and I don’t know certainly to what your magic may not extend. Thus, in not so important a matter, I should have said, the day before yesterday, that no letter from you could make my heart rise within me, more than of old . . . unless it should happen to be of twice the ordinary thickness . . . and then there’s a fear at first lest the over-running of my dealt-out measure should be just a note of Mr. Kenyon’s, for instance! But yesterday the very seal began with ‘Ba’ – – Now, always seal with that seal my letters, dearest! Do you recollect Donne’s pretty lines about seals?
Quondam fessus Amor loquens Amato,
Tot et tanta loquens amica, scripsit:
Tandem et fessa manus dedit Sigillum.
And in his own English,
When love, being weary, made an end
Of kind expressions to his friend,
He writ; when hand could write no more,
He gave the seal – – and so left o’er.
(By the way, what a mercy that he never noticed the jingle in posse of ending ‘expressions’ and beginning ‘impressions.’)
How your account of the actors in the ‘Love’s Labour Lost’ amused me! I rather like, though, the notion of that steady, business-like pursuit of love under difficulties; and the sobbing proves something surely! Serjt. Talfourd says – – is it not he who says it? – – ‘All tears are not for sorrow.’ I should incline to say, from my own feeling, that no tears were. They only express joy in me, or sympathy with joy – – and so is it with you too, I should think.
Understand that I do not disbelieve in Mesmerism – – I only object to insufficient evidence being put forward as quite irrefragable. I keep an open sense on the subject – – ready to be instructed; and should have refused such testimony as Miss Martineau’s if it had been adduced in support of something I firmly believed – – ‘non tali auxilio’ – – indeed, so has truth been harmed, and only so, from the beginning. So, I shall read what you bid me, and learn all I can.
I am not quite so well this week – – yesterday some friends came early and kept me at home – – for which I seem to suffer a little; less, already, than in the morning – – so I will go out and walk away the whirring . . . which is all the mighty ailment. As for ‘Luria’ I have not looked at it since I saw you – – which means, saw you in the body, because last night I saw you; as I wonder if you know!
Thursday, and again I am with you – – and you will forget nothing . . . how the farewell is to be returned? Ah, my dearest, sweetest Ba; how entirely I love you!
May God bless you ever – –
R.
2. p.m. Your parcel arrives . . . the penholder; now what shall I say? How am I to use so fine a thing even in writing to you? I will give it you again in our Isle, and meantime keep it where my other treasures are – – my letters and my dear ringlet.
Thank you – – all I can thank.