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


There is already all the play and fury that belong to great
wealth. A new fortune drops into the city every day; no end is
to palaces, none to diamonds, none to dinners and suppers. All
Spanish America discovers that only in the U. States, of all the
continent, is safe investment; and money gravitates therefore to
New York. The Southern naphtha, too, comes in as an ingredient,
and lubricates manners and tastes to that degree, that Boston is
hated for stiffness, and excellence in luxury is rapidly
attained. Of course, dining, dancing, equipaging, etc. are the
exclusive beatitudes,--and Thackeray will not cure us of this
distemper. Have you a physician that can? Are you a physician,
and will you come? If you will come, cities will go out to
meet you.
And now I see I have so much to say to you that I ought to write
once a month, and I must begin at this point again incontinently.

Ever yours,
R.W. Emerson


CLIII. Carlyle to Emerson
Chelsea, London, 9 September, 1853
Dear Emerson,--Your Letter came ten days ago; very kind, and
however late, surely right welcome! You ought to stir yourself
up a little, and actually begin to speak to me again.


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