I add no more today; reserving a little nook for
the answer I hope to get two days hence. Adieu, my Friend: it
is silent Sunday; the populace not yet admitted to their beer-
shops, till the respectabilities conclude their rubric-
mummeries,--a much more audacious feat than beer! We have
wet wind at Northeast, and a sky somewhat of the dreariest:--
Courage! a _little_ way above it reigns mere blue, and
sunshine eternally!--T.C.
_Wednesday, October 2d._--The Letter had to wait till today, and
is still in time. Anthony Sterling, who is yet at Ventnor,
apprises me this morning that according to his and the Governess's
belief the Russell Manuscripts arrived duly, and were spoken
of more than once by our Friend.--On Monday I received from
this same Anthony a big packet by Post; it contains among
other things all your Letters to John, wrapt up carefully, and
addressed in his hand, "Emerson's Letters, to be returned through
the hands of Carlyle": they shall go towards you next week, by
Mr. James, who is about returning. Among the other Papers was
one containing seven stanzas of verse addressed to T.
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