For Wordsworth ... you are right in a measure and by a standard—­but I have heard such really desecrating things of him, of his selfishness, his love of money, his worldly cunning (rather than prudence) that I felt a relief and gladness in the new chronicle;—­and you can understand how that was.  Miss Mitford’s doctrine is that everything put into the poetry, is taken out of the man and lost utterly by him.  Her general doctrine about poets, quite amounts to that—­I do not say it too strongly.  And knowing that such opinions are held by minds not feeble, it is very painful (as it would be indeed in any case) to see them apparently justified by royal poets like Wordsworth.  Ah, but I know an answer—­I see one in my mind!

So again for the letters.  Now ought I not to know about letters, I who have had so many ... from chief minds too, as society goes in England and America?  And your letters began by being first to my intellect, before they were first to my heart.  All the letters in the world are not like yours ... and I would trust them for that verdict with any jury in Europe, if they were not so far too dear!  Mr. Kenyon wanted to make me show him your letters—­I did show him the first, and resisted gallantly afterwards, which made him say what vexed me at the moment, ... ’oh—­you let me see only women’s letters,’—­till I observed that it was a breach of confidence, except in some cases, ... and that I should complain very much, if anyone, man or woman, acted so by myself.  But nobody in the world writes like you—­not so vitally—­and I have a right, if you please, to praise my letters, besides the reason of it which is as good.

Ah—­you made me laugh about Mr. Chorley’s free speaking—­and, without the personal knowledge, I can comprehend how it could be nothing very ferocious ... some ‘pardonnez moi, vous etes un ange.’  The amusing part is that by the same post which brought me the Ambleside document, I heard from Miss Mitford ’that it was an admirable thing of Chorley to have persisted in not allowing Harriet Martineau to quarrel with him’ ... so that there are laurels on both sides, it appears.

And I am delighted to hear from you to-day just so, though I reproach you in turn just so ... because you were not ‘depressed’ in writing all this and this and this which has made me laugh—­you were not, dearest—­and you call yourself better, ‘much better,’ which means a very little perhaps, but is a golden word, let me take it as I may.  May God bless you.  Wednesday seems too near (now that this is Monday and you are better) to be our day ... perhaps it does,—­and Thursday is close beside it at the worst.

Dearest I am your own

BA.

E.B.B. to R.B.

Monday Evening.
[In the same envelope with the preceding letter.]