We have not a
triumphant life here; very far indeed from that, _ach Gott!_--as
you shall see. But Margaret is an excellent soul: in real
regard with both of us here. Since she went, I have been reading
some of her Papers in a new Book we have got: greatly superior
to all I knew before; in fact the undeniable utterances (now
first undeniable to me) of a true heroic mind;--altogether
unique, so far as I know, among the Writing Women of this
generation; rare enough too, God knows, among the writing Men.
She is very narrow, sometimes; but she is truly high: honor to
Margaret, and more and more good-speed to her.--Adieu dear
Emerson. I am ever yours,
--T.C.
CXIX. Carlyle to Emerson
Chelsea, 18 March, 1847
Dear Emerson,--Yesterday morning, setting out to breakfast with
Richard Milnes (Milnes's breakfast is a thing you will yet have
to experience) I met, by the sunny shore of the Thames, a
benevolent Son of Adam in blue coat and red collar, who thrust
into my hand a Letter from you. A truly miraculous Son of Adam
in red collar, in the Sunny Spring Morning!--The Bill of
Seventeen Pounds is already far on its way to Dumfries, there to
be kneaded into gold by the due artists: today is American Post-
day; and already in huge hurry about many things, I am
scribbling you some word of answer.
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