ind letters'--could not the
same Montefiore understand that though he deserved not one of his
thousand guineas, yet that he is in disgrace if they bate him of his
next gift by merely _ten_? It _is_ all too kind--but I shall feel the
diminishing of the kindness, be very sure! Of that there is, however,
not too alarming a sign in this dearest, because last of all--dearest
letter of all--till the next! I looked yesterday over the 'Tragedy,'
and think it will do after all. I will bring one part at least next
time, and 'Luria' take away, if you let me, so all will be off my
mind, and April and May be the welcomer? Don't think I am going to
take any extraordinary pains. There are some things in the 'Tragedy' I
should like to preserve and print now, leaving the future to spring
as it likes, in any direction, and these half-dead, half-alive works
fetter it, if left behind.

Yet one thing will fetter it worse, only one thing--if _you_, in any
respect, stay behind? You that in all else help me and will help me,
beyond words--beyond dreams--if, because I find you, your own works
_stop_--'then comes the Selah and the voice is hushed.' Oh, no, no,
dearest, _so_ would the help cease to be help--the joy to be joy, Ba
herself to be _quite_ Ba, and my own Siren singing song for song. Dear
love, will that be kind, and right, and like the rest? Write and
promise that all shall be resumed, the romance-poem chiefly, and I
will try and feel more yours than ever now. Am I not with you in the
world, proud of you--and _vain_, too, very likely, which is all the
sweeter if it is a sin as you teach me. Indeed dearest, I have set my
heart on your fulfilling your mission--my heart is on it! Bless you,
my Ba--

Your R.B.

I am so well as to have resumed the shower-bath (this morning)--and I
walk, especially near the elms and stile--and mean to walk, and be
very well--and you, dearest?

_E.B.B. to R.B._

[Post-mark, February 26, 1846.]

I confess that while I was writing those words I had a thought that
they were not quite yours as you said them. Still it comes to
something in their likeness, but we will not talk of it and break off
the chrystals--they _are_ so brittle, then? do you know _that_ by an
'instinct.' But I agree that it is best not to talk--I 'gave it up' as
a riddle long ago. Let there be 'analysis' even, and it will not be
solution. I have my own