I am obliged to leave off—the rest to-morrow—and then dear, Saturday! I love you utterly, my own best, dearest—
E.B.B. to R.B.
Thursday Night.
[Post-mark, January 23, 1846.]
Yes, I understand your 'Luria'—and there is to be more light; and I open the window to the east and wait for it—a little less gladly than for you on Saturday, dearest. In the meanwhile you have 'lucid moments,' and 'strengthen' yourself into the wisdom of learning to love me—and, upon consideration, it does not seem to be so hard after all ... there is 'less for the future to take away' than you had supposed—so that is the way? Ah, 'these lucid moments, in which all things are thoroughly perceived';—what harm they do me!—And I am to 'understand for you,' you say!—Am I?
On the other side, and to make the good omen complete, I remembered, after I had sealed my last letter, having made a confusion between the ivory and horn gates, the gates of false and true visions, as I am apt to do—and my penholder belongs to the ivory gate, ... as you will perceive in your lucid moments—poor holder! But, as you forget me on Wednesdays, the post testifying, ... the sinecure may not be quite so certain as the Thursday's letter says. And I too, in the meanwhile, grow wiser, ... having learnt something which you cannot do,—you of the 'Bells and Pomegranates': You cannot make a pen. Yesterday I looked round the world in vain for it.
Mr. Kenyon does not come—will not perhaps until Saturday! Which reminds me—Mr. Kenyon told me about a year ago that he had been painfully employed that morning in parting two—dearer than friends—and he had done it he said, by proving to either, that he or she was likely to mar the prospects of the other. 'If I had spoken to each, of himself or herself,' he said, 'I never could have done it.'
Was not that an ingenious cruelty? The remembrance rose up in me like a ghost, and made me ask you once to promise what you promised ... (you recollect?) because I could not bear to be stabbed with my own dagger by the hand of a third person ... so! When people have lucid moments themselves, you know, it is different.
And shall I indeed have a letter to-morrow? Or, not having the penholder yet, will you....
Goodnight. May God bless you—
Ever and wholly your