ven subject to an opium-headache. As to the
low spirits I will not say that mine _have not_ been low enough and
with cause enough; but _even then_, ... why if you were to ask the
nearest witnesses, ... say, even my own sisters, ... everybody would
tell you, I think, that the 'cheerfulness' even _then_, was the
remarkable thing in me--certainly it has been remarked about me again
and again. Nobody has known that it was an effort (a habit of effort)
to throw the light on the outside,--I do abhor so that ignoble
groaning aloud of the 'groans of Testy and Sensitude'--yet I may say
that for three years I never was conscious of one movement of pleasure
in anything. Think if I could mean to complain of 'low spirits' now,
and to you. Why it would be like complaining of not being able to see
at noon--which would simply prove that I was very blind. And you, who
are not blind, cannot make out what is written--so you _need not try_.
May God bless you long after you have done blessing me!

Your own

E.B.B.

Now I am half tempted to tear this letter in two (and it is long
enough for three) and to send you only the latter half. But you will
understand--you will not think that there is a contradiction between
the first and last ... you _cannot_. One is a truth of me--and the
other a truth of you--and we two are different, you know.

You are not over-working in 'Luria'? That you _should not_, is a
truth, too.

I observed that Mr. Kenyon put in '_Junior_' to your address. Ought
that to be done? or does my fashion of directing find you without
hesitation?

Mr. Kenyon asked me for Mr. Chorley's book, or you should have it.
Shall I send it to you presently?

_R.B. to E.B.B._

Sunday Morning.
[Post-mark, November 17, 1845.]

At last your letter comes--and the deep joy--(I know and use to
analyse my own feelings, and be sober in giving distinctive names to
their varieties; this is _deep_ joy,)--the true love with which I
take this much of you into my heart, ... _that_ proves what it is I
wanted so long, and find at last, and am happy for ever. I must have
more than 'intimated'--I must have spoken plainly out the truth, if I
do myself the barest justice, and told you long ago that the
admiration at your works went _away_, quite another way and afar from
the love o