ields and houses in
which we walk and love you. The view includes my Grandfather's
house (under the trees near the Monument), in which I lived for a
time until I married and bought my present house, which is not in
the scope of this drawing. I will roll up two of them, and, as
Sterling seems to be more nomadic than you, I beg you will send
him also this particle of foreign parts.

With this, or presently after it, I shall send a copy of the
_Dial._ It is not yet much; indeed, though no copy has come to
me, I know it is far short of what it should be, for they have
suffered puffs and dulness to creep in for the sake of the
complement of pages; but it is better than anything we had; and
I have some poetry communicated to me for the next number which I
wish Sterling and Milnes to see. In this number what say you to
the _Elegy_ written by a youth who grew up in this town and lives
near me,--Henry Thoreau? A criticism on Persius is his also.
From the papers of my brother Charles, I gave them the fragments
on Homer, Shakespeare, Burke: and my brother Edward wrote the
little _Farewell,_ when last he left his home. The Address of
the Editors to the Readers is all the prose that is mine, and
whether they have printed a few verses for me I do not know. I
am daily expecting an account for you from Little and Brown.
They promised it at this time. It will speedily follow this
sheet, if it do not accompany it. But I am determined, if I
can, to send one letter which is not on business. Send me
some word of the Lectures. I have yet seen only the initial
notices. Surely you will send me some time the D'Orsay portrait.
Sumner thinks Mrs. Carlyle was very well when he saw her last,
which makes me glad.--I wish you both to love me, as I am
affectionately Yours,

--R.W. Emerson

LV. Carlyle to Emerson

Chelsea, London, 2 July, 1840

My Dear Emerson,--Surely I am a sinful man to neglect so long
making any acknowledgment of the benevolent and beneficent
Arithmetic you sent me! It is many weeks, perhaps it is months,
since the worthy citizen--your Host as I understood you in some
of your Northern States--stept in here, one mild evening, with
his mild honest face and manners; presented me your Bookseller
Accounts; talked for half an hour, and then went his way into
France. Much has come and gone since then; Letters of yours,
beautiful Disciples of yours:--I pray you forgive me! I have
be