_ God help
us, this is growing a very lonely place, this distracted dog-
kennel of a world! And it is no joy to me to see it about to
have its throat cut for its immeasurable devilries; that is not
a pleasant process to be concerned in either more or less,--
considering above all how many centuries, base and dismal all of
them, it is like to take! Nevertheless _Marchons,_--and swift
too, if we have any speed, for the sun is sinking.... Poor
Margaret, that is a strange tragedy that history of hers; and
has many traits of the Heroic in it, though it is wild as the
prophecy of a Sibyl. Such a predetermination to _eat_ this big
Universe as her oyster or her egg, and to be absolute empress of
all height and glory in it that her heart could conceive, I have
not before seen in any human soul. Her "mountain me" indeed:--
but her courage too is high and clear, her chivalrous nobleness
indeed is great; her veracity, in its deepest sense, _a toute
epreuve._--Your Copy of the Book* came to me at last (to my joy):
I had already read it; there was considerable notice taken of it
here; and one half-volume of it (and I grieve to say only one,
written by a man called Emerson) was completely approved by me
and innumerable judges.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273