perpetual indigestions and nervous woes, I am actually getting
into better health; the weary heart of me is quieter; I wait in
silence for the new chapter,--feeling truly that we are at the
end of one period here. I count it _two_ in my autobiography:
we shall see what the _third_ is; [if] third there be. But I am
in small haste for a third. How true is that of the old
Prophets, "The _word of the Lord_ came unto" such and such a one!
When it does not come, both Prophet and Prosaist ought to be
thankful (after a sort), and rigorously hold their tongue.--Lord
Durham's people have come over with golden reports of the
Americans, and their brotherly feelings. One Arthur Buller
preaches to me, with emphasis, on a quite personal topic till one
explodes in laughter to hear him, the good soul: That I, namely,
am the most esteemed, &c., and ought to go over and Lecture in
all great towns of the Union, and make, &c., &c.! I really do
begin to think of it in this interregnum that I am in. But then
my Lectures must be written; but then I must become a _hawker,
--ach Gott!_

The people are beginning to quote you here: _tant pis pour eux!_
I have found you in two Cambridge books. A certain Mr. Richard
M. Milnes, M.P., a beautiful little Tory dilettante poet and
politician whom I love much, applied to me for _Nature_ (the
others he has) that he might write upon it. Somebody has
stolen _Nature_ from me, or many have thumbed it to pieces; I
could not find a copy. Send me one, the first chance you have.
And see Miss Martineau in the last _Westminster Review:_--these
things you are old enough to stand? They are even of benefit?
Emerson is not without a select public, the root of a select
public on this side of the water too.--Popular Sumner is off to
Italy, the most popular of men,--inoffensive, like a worn
sixpence that has no physiognomy left. We preferred Coolidge to
him in this circle; a square-cut iron man, yet with clear
symptoms of a heart in him. Your people will come more and more
to their maternal Babylon, will they not, by the steamers?--
Adieu, my dear friend. My Wife joins me in all good prayers for
you and yours.

--Thomas Carlyle

XXXVII. Carlyle to Emerson

Chelsea, London, 17 April, 1839

Dear Friend,--Some four days ago I wrote you a long Letter,
rather expressive of anxiety about you; it will probably come to
hand along with this. I had heard vaguely that you we