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"The Correspondence of Thomas Carlyle and Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1834-1872, Vol II."

J.M. & Co. fear that, if the new book is pirated
at New York and the pirate prospers, instantly the _Miscellanies_
will be plundered. We will hope better, or at least exult
in that which remains, to wit, a Worth unplunderable, yet
infinitely communicable.
I have hardly space left to say what I would concerning the
_Dial._ I heartily hoped I had done with it, when lately our
poor, good, publishing Miss Peabody,... wrote me that its
subscription would not pay its expenses (we all writing for
love). But certain friends are very unwilling it should die, and
I a little unwilling, though very unwilling to be the life of it,
as editor. And now that you are safely through your book, and
before the greater Sequel rushes to its conclusion, send me, I
pray you, that short chapter which hovers yet in the limbo of
contingency, in solid letters and points. Let it be, if that is
readiest, a criticism on the _Dial,_ and this too Elysian race,
not blood, and yet not ichor.--Let Jane Carlyle be on my part,
and, watchful of his hours, urge the poet in the golden one.


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