Carlyle to Emerson
Scotsbrig, Ecclefechan, N.B., 13 August, 1849
Dear Emerson,--By all laws of human computation, I owe you a
letter, and have owed, any time these seven weeks: let me now
pay a little, and explain. Your _second_ Barrel of Indian Corn
arrived also perfectly fresh, and of admirable taste and quality;
the very bag of new-ground meal was perfect; and the "popped
corn" ditto, when it came to be discovered: with the whole of
which admirable materials such order was taken as promised to
secure "the greatest happiness to the greatest number"; and due
silent thanks were tendered to the beneficence of the unwearied
Sender:--but all this, you shall observe, had to be done in the
thick of a universal packing and household bustle; I just on the
wing for a "Tour in Ireland," my Wife too contemplating a run to
Scotland shortly after, there to meet me on my return. All this
was seven good weeks ago: I hoped somewhere in my Irish
wayfarings to fling you off a Letter; but alas, I reckoned there
quite without my host (strict "host," called _Time_), finding
nowhere half a minute left to me; and so now, having got home to
my Mother, not to see my Wife yet for some days, it is my
_earliest_ leisure, after all, that I employ in this purpose.
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