BR TO ALYS RUSSELL, 26 OCT. 1894
BRACERS 20947. ALS. McMaster. SLBR 1: #54
Edited by N. Griffin. Proofread by A. Duncan and K. Blackwell

British Embassy1^, 2
<Paris>
Friday Oct 26 ’94
10 p.m.

My Darling Alys

When I said I wouldn’t write tonight I had forgotten it was Friday, or I wouldn’t have said so. Thy letter tonight is lovely and I’m very much relieved that my letter didn’t worry thee at all. What I feel now is that until we have had one experience of coition the thought will be fearfully exciting to me if we sleep together — I feel as if it would keep me from sleeping and keep my mind for more on that one subject than it should be — chiefly out of desire for the knowledge of the ultimate experience. When we are together my thoughts turn less to physical things than when we are separated, and it may be it will be better then; but during these last months I have felt as if the excitement would be too much for me almost, until it had happened once. After that, I feel sure restraint would be easy. I agree that we ought in general to choose the times when conception is least likely, but I imagine checks are pretty safe now, from what Dr. Philpot said, and in one departure there would not be an appreciable risk. The fact is that all this loneliness and depression has a good deal lessened my self-control for the moment, but when we are married and away it will soon come back. — As to frequency, I am sure it ought not to be great, but beyond that it is entirelya a question for our joint experience to decide, and on which I don’t think we can decide now. I too try to distract myself, by repeating poetry and in other ways, from exciting physical thoughts, but I seldom succeed. — I feel as if after this long time in which every moment almost is a concentrated effort of self-control (except when I’m writing to thee or reading thy letters) I should want for once to have a little holiday from it, and if only for 24 hours break loose from it and just live. But if thee feels it would be disagreeable to thee until we have been some weeks married, of course it will be so heavenly to be together that it will really be easy to wait — much easier probably than it seems now. — I have had a lovely time with my two visits to real human beings,3 but now I am home again I feel as if perhaps it were almost a mistake to intersperse any pleasures — I shall never get to bed tonight, as I’m fearfully excited. I will write all about my visits tomorrow; I have just come back and found thy letter and like thee I can’t write about irrelevant things. I have got impure things for the moment rather on the brain, as I know for a certainty from dreams — I remember telling thee once that happiness and a full active life were necessary to me in that respect — in old days when I was unhappy I was perpetually haunted by impure imaginings like the early Xtian hermits I put in my paper last February.4 I feel sure it will be well when we’re together, but for the moment all troublesome thoughts are too strong for me — my will is wasted in carrying on my daily life, and there is none left for other needs. — As a matter of fact I’ve been very happy all day and this is mere reaction. — I can hardly ever recall the mood of our last days now — the thought of thy breasts produces only an intense sexual excitement, and none of the divine calm of that time — of course calm is impossible when we’re apart, but those divine feelings will come back when we’re together again. — I remember when my feelings first began to be no longer Platonic, the thought of kissing used to torment me when I was away, and then when we met I forgot all about it, because the emotion took its place. — I don’t believe we shall find coition such an absolutely different thing from previous physical things, and I believe experience in the one can more or less be extended to the other — but I dare say not. Except for that one little point, I agree with thee entirely — and even on that point I shall agree if thee continues to feel as thee does, for all depends on how thee feels. — I grow the more impatient that I still know how I felt those last days, but I cannot feel it any longer — it is like Shelley’s “divine Feelings that died in youth’s brief morn”,5 and till we meet they are a closed book to me — worse luck! All calm and peaceful feelings are grown unintelligible to me now, as they were before I knew thee — joy again to my imagination is wild and passionate excitement — but all will be well in 3 weeks, from tomorrow morning. Till then there is nothing for it but grim endurance.

I have more than ever perfect confidence that all will be well, in spite of my present thoughts — thee is so splendid about it — I never hoped for such a wonderful development. I too, for thy sake, I am sure, can do anything.

Goodnight my Beloved my Life and Joy and Strength. I am nothing without thee and I feel the need of thee every hour and every minute. All I hope for and all I ought to be depends on thee.

Thine thine thine
Bertie

• 1

  [document] Document 055119. BR’s much later editing in pencil is found around the final paragraph.

• 2

  [envelope]

• 3

  two visits to real human beings He had been to see Clara Butt and two American friends, Edith and Bryson Burroughs. In his letter next day, he asked Alys to try to find out if Butt was “as famous as she says”. “Perhaps she sings under a pseudonym”, he added.

• 4

  my paper last February “Lövberg or Hedda”, 13 in Papers 1: 85.

• 5

  Shelley’s “divine Feelings that died in youth’s brief morn” “The Magnetic Lady”, III.1.7.

Textual Notes

• a

  entirely after deleted simple