own, in small quantity, exists here and
there in _Fraser;_ one story, entitled _Cruthers and Jonson,_*
was written sixteen years ago, and printed somewhere early
(probably the second year) in that rubbish heap, with several
gross errors of the press (mares for maces was one!): it is the
first thing I wrote, or among the very first;--otherwise a thing
to be kept rather secret, except from the like of you! This or
any other of the "original" immaturities I will _not_ recommend
as an Appendix; I hope the _Mahrchen,_ or the _Novelle_ and
_Mahrchen,_ will suffice. But on the whole, to thee, O Friend,
and thy judgment and decision, without appeal, I leave it
altogether. Say Yes, say No; do what seemeth good to thee.--Nay
now, writing with the speed of light, another consideration
strikes me: Why should Volume Third be interfered with if it is
finished? Why will not this _Appendix_ do, these _Appendixes,_
to hang to the skirts of Volume Four as well? Perhaps better!
the _Mahrchen_ in any case closing the rear. I leave it all to
Emerson and Stearns Wheeler, my more than kind Editors: E. knows
it better than I; be his decision irrevocable.

-----------
* "Cruthers and Jonson; or, The Outskirts of Life. A True
Story." _Fraser's Magazine,_ January, 1831.
------------

This letter is far too long, but I had not time to make it
shorter.--I got your _French Revolution,_ and have seen no other:
my name is on it in your hand. I received Dwight's Book, liked
it, and have answered him: a good youth, of the kind you
describe; no Englishman, to my knowledge, has yet uttered as
much sense about Goethe and German things. I go this day to
settle with Fraser about printers and a second edition of the
_Revolution_ Book,--as specified in the other Letter: five
hundred copies for America, which are to cost he computes about
2/7, and _your_ Bookseller will bind them, and defy Piracy. My
Lectures come on, this day two weeks: O Heaven! I cannot
"speak"; I can only gasp and writhe and stutter, a spectacle to
gods and fashionables,--being forced to it by want of money. In
five weeks I shall be free, and then--! Shall it be Switzerland,
shall it be Scotland, nay, shall it be America and Concord?

Ever your affectionate
T. Carlyle

All love from both of us to the Mother and Boy. My Wife is
better than usual; rejoices in the promise of summer now
at last visible after a spring like Greenland. Scarci