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

For many weeks it has been a real weariness to me; my
hope, always disappointed, that now is the last time I shall have
any trade with it. Even since I began writing, there has been an
Engraver here, requiring new indoctrination,--poor fellow! Nay,
in about ten days it _must_ be over: let us not complain. I
feel it well to be worth _nothing,_ except for the little
fractions or intermittent fits of pious industry there really
were in it; and my one wish is that the human species would be
pleased to take it off my hands, and honestly let me hear no more
about it! If it please Heaven, I will rest awhile still, and
then try something better.
In three days hence, my Wife and I are off to the Hampshire coast
for a winter visit to kind friends there, if in such a place it
will prosper long with us. The climate there is greatly better
than ours; they are excellent people, well affected to us; and
can be lived with, though of high temper and ways! They are the
Lord Ashburtons, in fact; more properly the younger stratum of
that house; partly a kind of American people,--who know Waldo
Emerson, among other fine things, very well! I think we are to
stay some three weeks: the bustle of moving is already begun.


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