bsolute success, so that his
life was a silent appeal to the great and generous. But some
time I shall see you and speak of him.

---------
* Charles Chauncy Emerson,--died May 9, 1836,--whose memory still
survives fresh and beautiful in the hearts of the few who remain
who knew him in life. A few papers of his published in the
_Dial_ show to others what he was and what he might have become.
-----------

We want but two or three friends, but these we cannot do without,
and they serve us in every thought we think. I find now I must
hold faster the remaining jewels of my social belt. And of you I
think much and anxiously since Mrs. Channing, amidst her delight
at what she calls the happiest hour of her absence, in her
acquaintance with you and your family, expresses much uneasiness
respecting your untempered devotion to study. I am the more
disturbed by her fears, because your letters avow a self-devotion
to your work, and I know there is no gentle dulness in your
temperament to counteract the mischief. I fear Nature has not
inlaid fat earth enough into your texture to keep the ethereal
blade from whetting it through. I write to implore you to be
careful of your health. You are the property of all whom you
rejoice in art and soul, and you must not deal with your body as
your own. O my friend, if you would come here and let me nurse
you and pasture you in my nook of this long continent, I will
thank God and you therefor morning and evening, and doubt not to
give you, in a quarter of a year, sound eyes, round cheeks, and
joyful spirits. My wife has been lately an invalid, but she
loves you thoroughly, and hardly stores a barrel of flour or lays
her new carpet without some hopeful reference to Mrs. Carlyle.
And in good earnest, why cannot you come here forthwith, and
deliver in lectures to the solid men of Boston the _History of
the French Revolution_ before it is published,--or at least
whilst it is publishing in England, and before it is published
here. There is no doubt of the perfect success of such a course
now that the _five hundred copies of the Sartor are all sold,_
and read with great delight by many persons.

This I suggest if you too must feel the vulgar necessity of
_doing;_ but if you will be governed by your friend, you shall
come into the meadows, and rest and talk with your friend in my
country pasture. If you will come here like a noble brother, you
shall have your solid day undisturbed,