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

_Plato,_ I think, though it is the
most admired by many, did least for me: little save Socrates
with his clogs and big ears remains alive with me from it.
_Swedenborg_ is excellent in _likeness;_ excellent in many
respects;--yet I said to myself, on reaching your general
conclusion about the man and his struggles: "_Missed_ the
consummate flower and divine ultimate elixir of Philosophy, say
you? By Heaven, in clutching at _it,_ and almost getting it, he
has tumbled into Bedlam,--which is a terrible _miss,_ if it were
never so _near!_ A miss fully as good as a mile, I should say!"
--In fact, I generally dissented a little about the _end_ of all
these Essays; which was notable, and not without instructive
interest to me, as I had so lustily shouted "Hear, hear!" all the
way from the beginning up to that stage.--On the whole, let us
have another Book with your earliest convenience: that is the
modest request one makes of you on shutting this.
I know not what I am now going to set about: the horrible
barking of the universal dog-kennel (awakened by these
_Pamphlets_) must still itself again; my poor nerves must
recover themselves a little:--I have much more to say; and
by Heaven's blessing must try to get it said in some way if
I live.


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