suaded that, if a man speak well, he
shall find this a well-rewarded work in New England. I have
written this year ten lectures; I had written as many last year.
And for reading both these and those at places whither I was
invited, I have received this last winter about three hundred and
fifty dollars. Had I, in lieu of receiving a lecturer's fee,
myself advertised that I would deliver these in certain places,
these receipts would have been greatly increased. I insert all
this because my prayers for you in this country are quite of a
commercial spirit. If you lose no dollar by us, I shall joyfully
trust your genius and virtue for your satisfaction on all
other points.

I cannot remember that there are any other mouthpieces that are
specially vital at this time except Criticism and Parliamentary
Debate. I think this of ours would possess in the hands of a
great genius great advantages over both. But what avail any
commendations of the form, until I know that the man is alive and
well? If you love them that love you, write me straightway of
your welfare. My wife desires to add to mine her friendliest
greetings to Mrs. Carlyle and to yourself.

Yours affectionately,
R. Waldo Emerson

I ought to say that Le-Baron Russell, a worthy young man
who studies Engineering, did cause the republication of
Teufelsdrockh.* I trust you shall yet see a better American
review of it than the _North American._

------------
* This first edition of _Sartor_ as an independent volume was
published by James Munroe and Company, Boston. Emerson, at Mr.
(now Dr.) Russell's request, wrote a Preface for the book. He
told Dr. Russell that his brother Charles was not pleased
with the Preface, thinking it "too commonplace, too much like
all prefaces."
-----------

XI. Carlyle to Emerson

5 Cheyne Row, Chelsea, London
29 April, 1836

My Dear Emerson,--Barnard is returning across the water, and must
not go back without a flying salutation for you. These many
weeks I have had your letter by me; these many weeks I have felt
always that it deserved and demanded a grateful answer; and,
alas! also that I could give it none. It is impossible for you
to figure what mood I am in. One sole thought, That Book! that
weary Book! occupies me continually: wreck and confusion of all
kinds go tumbling and falling around me, within me; but to wreck
and growth, to confusion and order, to the world at large, I turn