Which last I often in
my sorrow have recourse to, at what ever known risks. "We must
pay our tribute to Time": ah yes, yes;--and yet I will believe,
so long as we continue together in this sphere of things there
will always be a _potential_ Letter coming out of New England for
me, and the world not fallen irretrievably dumb.--The best is, I
am about going into Scotland, in two days, into deep solitude,
for a couple of months beside the Solway sea: I absolutely need
to have the dust blown out of me, and my mad nerves rested (there
is nothing else quite gone wrong): this unblest _Life of
Frederick_ is now actually to get along into the Printer's hand;
--a good Book being impossible upon it, there shall a bad one be
done, and one's poor existence rid of it:--for which great object
two months of voluntary torpor are considered the fair
preliminary. In another year's time, (if the Fates allow me to
live,) I expect to have got a great deal of rubbish swept into
chaos again. Unlucky it should ever have been dug up, much
of it!--
Your Mrs.
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