[Postmark: March 31, 1846]
Tuesday
Dear, dear, Ba, what shall I say or not say ? On a kind
of principle, I have tried before this to subdue the expres-
sion of gratitude for the material, worldly good you do me —
for my poor store of words would all pay themselves
away here, at the beginning, and so leave the higher,
peculiar, Ba’s own gifts even without a cry of acknowledgement,
not to say of thanks. But somehow you, you my
dearest, my Ba, look out of all imaginable nooks and
crevices in the materiality — I see you through your goodness,
— I cannot distinguish between your acts now, — the greater,
indeed, and the lesser ! Which is the ‘ lesser ‘ ? With
you all their heap of work seems no more than – -. (I
cannot even think of what may serve for some lesser act of
kindness ! That is just what I wanted to say — ‘ the effect
defective comes by cause ‘ here — there is no ‘ lesser ‘ blessing
in your power, as I said !)
Now, darling, — it is late in the afternoon, as posts go —
I have been out all the morning in town, and while I was
happy with one letter (found waiting my return) — the parcel
comes — so I will just say this much, (this little, this least) —
this word now — and by tonight all shall be corrected, I
hope, and got rid of fairly. And to-morrow, I will have you
to myself, my best one, and will write till you cry out against
me. I go now. God bless you and reward you — prays your
very own R. B.