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


Perhaps it is quite as well that you are left alone of foreign
interference, even of a Letter from Chelsea, till you get your
huge bale of English reminiscences assorted a little. Nobody
except me seems to have heard from you; at least the rest, in
these parts, all plead destitution when I ask for news. What you
saw and suffered and enjoyed here will, if you had once got it
properly warehoused, be new wealth to you for many years. Of one
impression we fail not here: admiration of your pacific virtues,
of gentle and noble tolerance, often sorely tried in this place!
Forgive me my ferocities; you do not quite know what I suffer in
these latitudes, or perhaps it would be even easier for you.
Peace for me, in a Mother of Dead Dogs like this, there is not,
was not, will not be,--till the battle itself end; which,
however, is a sure outlook, and daily growing a nearer one.
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* The letter is missing, but a fragment of the rough draft of it
exists, dated Concord, 2 October, 1848. Emerson had returned
home in July, and he begins: "'T is high time, no doubt, long
since, that you heard from me, and if there were good news in
America for you, you would be sure to hear.


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