from me, or some definite deliverance on the
matter. O Athenians, what a trouble I _give,_ having _got_
your applauses!

Kennet the Bookseller gave me yesterday (on my way to "the City"
with that Brother of mine, the Italian Doctor who is here at
present and a great lover of yours) ten copies of your Dartmouth
Oration: we read it over dinner in a chop-house in Bucklersbury,
amid the clatter of some fifty stand of knives and forks; and a
second time more leisurely at Chelsea here. A right brave
Speech; announcing, in its own way, with emphasis of full
conviction, to all whom it may concern, that great forgotten
truth, _Man is still man._ May it awaken a pulsation under the
ribs of Death! I believe the time is come for such a Gospel.
They must speak it out who have it,--with what audience there may
be. I have given away two copies this morning; I will take care
of the rest. Go on, and speed.--And now where is the heterodox
Divinity one, which awakens such "tempest in a washbowl," brings
Goethe, Transcendentalism, and Carlyle into question, and on the
whole evinces "what [difference] New England also makes between
_Pan_-theism and _Pot_-theism"? I long to see that; I expect to
congratulate you on that too. Meanwhile we will let the washbowl
storm itself out; and Emerson at Concord shall recognize it for
a washbowl storming, and hold on his way. As to my share in it,
grieve not for half an instant. Pantheism, Pottheism, Mydoxy,
Thydoxy, are nothing at all to me; a weariness the whole jargon,
which I avoid speaking of, decline listening to: _Live,_ for
God's sake, with what Faith thou couldst get; leave off
_speaking_ about Faith! Thou knowest it not. Be _silent,_ do
not speak.--As to you, my friend, you are even to go on, giving
still harder shocks if need be; and should I come into censure
by means of you, there or here, think that I am proud of my
company; that, as the boy Hazlitt said after hearing Coleridge,
"I will go with that man"; or, as our wild Burns has it,

"Wi' sic as he, where'er he be,
May I be saved or damned!"

Oime! what a foolish goose of a world this is! If it were not
[for] here and there an articulate-speaking man, one would be
all-too lonely.

This is nothing at all like the letter I meant to write you; but
I will write again, I trust, in few days, and the first paragraph
shall, if possible, hold all the business. I have much to tell
you, which perhaps is as