I could not at first, nor can I yet with perfect
decisiveness, bring out any feature completely recalling to
me the old Emerson, that lighted on us from the Blue, at
Craigenputtock, long ago,--_eheu!_ Here is a genial, smiling,
energetic face, full of sunny strength, intelligence, integrity,
good humor; but it lies imprisoned in baleful shades, as of the
valley of Death; seems smiling on me as if in mockery. "Dost
know me, friend? I am dead, thou seest, and distant, and forever
hidden from thee;--I belong already to the Eternities, and thou
recognizest me not!" On the whole, it is the strangest feeling I
have:--and practically the thing will be, that you get us by the
earliest opportunity some _living_ pictorial sketch, chalk-
drawing or the like, from a trustworthy hand; and send _it_
hither to represent you. Out of the two I shall compile for
myself a likeness by degrees: but as for this present, we cannot
put up with it at all; to my Wife and me, and to sundry other
parties far and near that have interest in it, there is no
satisfaction in this.
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