* But no, you will
never forgive him his metres. He is a stout, solid, reliable man
and friend,--I knew well; but this fine poem has taken me by
surprise. I cannot find that your journals have yet discovered
its existence. With kindest remembrances to Jane Carlyle, and
new thanks to John Carlyle, your friend,
--R.W. Emerson
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* "The Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich."
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CXL. Carlyle to Emerson
Chelsea, 19 April, 1849
My Dear Emerson,--Today is American Postday; and by every rule
and law,--even if all laws but those of Cocker were abolished
from this universe,--a word from me is due to you! Twice I have
heard since I spoke last: prompt response about the Philadelphia
Bill; exact performance of your voluntary promise,--Indian Corn
itself is now here for a week past....
Still more interesting is the barrel of genuine Corn ears,--
Indian Cobs of edible grain, from the Barn of Emerson himself!
It came all safe and right, according to your charitable program;
without cost or trouble to us of any kind; not without curious
interest and satisfaction! The recipes contained in the
precedent letter, duly weighed by the competent jury of
housewives (at least by my own Wife and Lady Ashburton), were
judged to be of decided promise, reasonable-looking every one of
them; and now that the stuff itself is come, I am happy to
assure you that it forms a new epoch for us all in the Maize
department: we find the grain _sweet,_ among the sweetest, with
a touch even of the taste of _nuts_ in it, and profess with
contrition that properly we have never tasted Indian Corn before.
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