rdly any audience: a certain _young_ public wanted me
to be that Professor there, but I knew better,--Is this
enough about Ferrier?

I will not add another word; the time being _past,_
irretrievable except by half-running!

Write us your Book; and be well and happy always!*

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* The signature has been cut off.
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XCII. Carlyle to Emerson

Chelsea, 5 August, 1844

Dear Emerson,--There had been a long time without direct news
from you, till four days ago your Letter arrived. This day I
understand to be the ultimate limit of the American Mail;
yesterday, had it not been Sunday, would have been the limit: I
write a line, therefore, though in very great haste.

Poor Sterling, even I now begin to fear, is in a very bad way.
He had two successive attacks of spitting of blood, some three
months ago or more; the second attack of such violence, and his
previous condition then so weak, that the Doctor as good as gave
up hope,--the poor Patient himself had from the first given it
up. Our poor Friend has had so many attacks of that nature, and
so rapidly always rallied from them, I gave no ear to these
sinister prognostics; but now that I see the summer influences
passing over him without visible improvement, and our good
weather looking towards a close without so much strength added as
will authorize even a new voyage to Madeira;--I too am at last
joining in the general discouragement; all the sadder to me that
I shut it out so long. Sir James Clark, our best-accredited
Physician for such diseases, declares that Life, for certain
months, may linger, with great pain; but that recovery is not to
be expected. Great part of the lungs, it appears, is totally
unserviceable for respiration; from the remainder, especially in
times of coughing, it is with the greatest difficulty that breath
enough is obtained. Our poor Patient passes the night in a
sitting posture; cannot lie down: that fact sticks with me ever
since I heard it! He is very weak, very pale; still "writes a
great deal daily"; but does not wish to see anybody; declines
to "see even Carlyle," who offered to go to him. His only
Brother, Anthony Sterling, a hardy soldier, lately withdrawn from
the Army, and settled in this quarter, whom we often communicate
with, is about going down to the Isle of Wight this week: he saw
John four days ago, and brings nothing but bad news,--of which
indeed this removal of his to the neighborhoo