Pray
for them also, poor stupid overfed heavy-laden souls!--Before my
paper quite end, I must in my own name, and that of a select
company of others, inquire rigorously of R.W.E. why he does not
_give_ us that little Book on England he has promised so long? I
am very serious in saying, I myself want much to see it;--and
that I can see no reason why we all should not, without delay.
Bring it out, I say, and print it, _tale quale._ You will never
get it in the least like what _you_ wish it, clearly no! But I
venture to warrant, it is good enough,--far too good for the
readers that are to get it. Such a pack of blockheads, and
disloyal and bewildered unfortunates who know not their right
hand from their left, as fill me with astonishment, and are more
and more forfeiting all respect from me. Publish the Book, I
say; let us have it and so have done! Adieu, my dear friend,
for this time. I had a thousand things more to write, but have
wasted my sheet, and must end. I will take another before long,
whatever you do. In my lonely thoughts you are never long
absent: _Valete_ all of you at Concord!
--T.
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