hods and mortar and heaps of lime, and trembling
tubs of size, and those thin broad whitewashing brushes I always had a
desire to take up and bespatter with. And now goodbye--I am to see you
on Wednesday I trust--and to hear you say you are better, still
better, much better? God grant that, and all else good for you, dear
friend, and so for R.B.

ever yours.

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

[Post-mark, July 18, 1845.]

I suppose nobody is ever expected to acknowledge his or her 'besetting
sin'--it would be unnatural--and therefore you will not be surprised
to hear me deny the one imputed to me for mine. I deny it quite and
directly. And if my denial goes for nothing, which is but reasonable,
I might call in a great cloud of witnesses, ... a thundercloud, ...
(talking of storms!) and even seek no further than this table for a
first witness; this letter, I had yesterday, which calls me ... let me
see how many hard names ... 'unbending,' ... 'disdainful,' ... 'cold
hearted,' ... 'arrogant,' ... yes, 'arrogant, as women always are when
men grow humble' ... there's a charge against all possible and
probable petticoats beyond mine and through it! Not that either they
or mine deserve the charge--we do not; to the lowest hem of us! for I
don't pass to the other extreme, mind, and adopt besetting sins 'over
the way' and in antithesis. It's an undeserved charge, and unprovoked!
and in fact, the very flower of self-love self-tormented into ill
temper; and shall remain unanswered, for _me_, ... and _should_, ...
even if I could write mortal epigrams, as your Lamia speaks them. Only
it serves to help my assertion that people in general who know
something of me, my dear friend, are not inclined to agree with you in
particular, about my having an 'over-pleasure in pleasing,' for a
besetting sin. If you had spoken of my sister Henrietta indeed, you
would have been right--_so_ right! but for _me_, alas, my sins are not
half as amiable, nor given to lean to virtue's side with half such a
grace. And then I have a pretension to speak the truth like a Roman,
even in matters of literature, where Mr. Kenyon says falseness is a
fashion--and really and honestly I should not be afraid ... I should
have no reason to be afraid, ... if all the notes and letters written
by my hand for years and years about presentation copies of poems and
other sorts of books were brought t