[Postmark: April 18, 1846]
Saturday.
So my dear, own Ba has good sense, best sense — whatever Flush’s may be ! Do you think . . (to take the
extreme horn of a certain dilemma I see) . . that —
Now, dearest, somehow I can’t write the great proof
down — I will tell you on Monday — as to my good sense.
I was wrong to give such a praise to myself in the particular
case you were alluding to at the time — the good sense of the
bird which finds out its mate amid a forest-full of birds of
another kind ! Why the poorest brown butterfly will seek
out a brown stone in a gravel walk, or brown leaf in a flower
bed, to settle on and be happy (And I suppose even dear
Carlyle is no longer my brown leaf ; at least, I could not go
last night. I will, however, try again on Monday — after
leaving you — with that elixir in my veins).
Mrs. Paine’s note is charming. I thank you, dearest,
for sending it — (How I like being reminded of thanks, due
from me to you, which I may somehow come near the expression of ! I am silent about an infinity of blessings —
but I do say how grateful I am for this kindness ! ). Now,
there is the legitimate process ; the proper benefit received,
in the first instance, and profited by, and thence grows in
proper time the desire of being admitted to see you — so
different from the vulgar ‘ Georgianas ‘ who, possibly, hearing
of the privilege extended to such a person as this we speak
of, would say, with the triumphant chuckle of low cunning,
‘ ah, — I will get as far, by one stroke of the pen — by one
bold desire ” to be thought of as I think of her.” ‘ She
could but ask and be refused ! Whereas Mrs. Paine was
already in possession of much more dear, dear Ba, than
could be taken away even by a refusal — besides, her reverence-
would have made her understand and acquiesce even
in that. Therefore, I am glad, sympathisingly glad she is
rewarded, that good, gentle Mrs. Paine ! I will bring her
note with me.
Because, here is Mr. Kenyon’s, and Landor’s (which
had been sent to Moxon’s some days ago, whence the delay)
— and Mrs. Jameson’s. All kind and indulgent and flattering
in their various ways . . but, my Ba, my dear, dear Ba,
other praises disregarding, I but harken those of yours — only
saying — Ah, it is wrong to take the sacrificial vessel and
say, — ‘ See, it holds my draught of wine, too ‘ ! — I will not do
so, not parody your verses again. And I like to be praised
now, in a sense, much, much more than ever — but, darling,
oh how easily, if need were, I could know the world was
abusing at its loudest outside ; if you were inside . . though
but the thinnest of gauze canopies kept us from the buzzing !
This is only said on this subject, struck out by it, not of
it, — for the praise is good true praise and from the worthies
of our time — but — you, I love, — and there is the world-wide
difference. And what ought I to say to Mr. Kenyon’s
report of me ? Stand quietly, assentingly ? You will agree
to this at least, that he cannot know what he says — only be
disposed to hope and believe it is so : still, to speak so to
you — what would I not do to repay him, if that could be !
What a divinely merciful thought of God for our sake . .
that we cannot know each other — infallibly know — as we
know other things, in their qualities ! For instance, I bid
you know my love for you (which would be knowing me) — I
complain that you do not, cannot — yet, — if you could . . my
Ba, would you have been ever quite my Ba? If you said,
calmly as when judging of material objects, ‘ there is affection,
so much, and sincerity, and admiration &c., yes, that I see,
of course, for it is there plainly ‘ — So I should lose the
delight crowning the delight, — first of the fact, as I know it;
and then of this ; that you desired to know it, chose to lean
forward, and take my poor testimony for a fact, believing
through desire, or at least will to believe — so that I do, in the
exercise of common sense, adore you, more and more, as I
live to see more, and feel more. So let me kiss you, my
pearl of woman. Do I ‘ remember ‘ praying God to bless me
through the blessing on you ? Shall I ever forget to pray so,
rather ! My dear — dearest, I pray now, with all my heart ;
may He bless you — and what else can now bless your
own R ? —