I have not even read
a Book,--that I liked. All "Literature" has grown inexpressibly
unsatisfactory to me. Better be silent than talk farther in
this mood.
We are going off, on Saturday come a week, into Hampshire, to
certain Friends you have heard me speak of. Our address, till
the beginning of February, is "Hon. W.B. Baring, Alverstoke,
Gosport, Hants." My Wife sends you many kind regards; remember
us across the Ocean too;--and be well and busy till we meet.
Yours ever,
T. Carlyle
Last night there arrived No. 1 of the _Massachusetts Review:_
beautiful paper and print; and very promising otherwise. In the
Introduction I well recognized the hand; in the first Article
too,--not in any of the others. _Faustum sit._
CXXXII. Emerson to Carlyle
Ambleside, 26 February, 1848
My Dear Carlyle,--I am here in Miss Martineau's house, and having
seen a good deal of England, and lately a good deal of Scotland
too, I am tomorrow to set forth again for Manchester, and
presently for London. Yesterday, I saw Wordsworth for a good
hour and a half, which he did not seem to grudge, for he talked
freely and fast, and--bating his cramping Toryism and what
belongs to it--wisely enough.
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