t is an Infinitude,
the real vision and belief of one, seen face to face: a "voice
of the heart of Nature" is here once more. This is the one fact
for me, which absorbs all others whatsoever. Persist, persist;
you have much to say and to do. These voices of yours which I
likened to unembodied souls, and censure sometimes for having no
body,--how can they have a body? They are light-rays darting
upwards in the East; they will yet make much and much to have a
body! You are a new era, my man, in your new huge country: God
give you strength, and speaking and silent faculty, to do such a
work as seems possible now for you! And if the Devil will be
pleased to set all the Popularities _against_ you and evermore
against you,--perhaps that is of all things the very kindest any
_Angel_ could do.

Of myself I have nothing good to report. Years of sick idleness
and barrenness have grown wearisome to me. I do nothing. I
waver and hover, and painfully speculate even now as to health,
and where I shall spend the summer out of London! I am a very
poor fellow;--but hope to grow better by and by. Then this
_alluvies_ of foul lazy stuff that has long swum over me may
perhaps yield the better harvest. _Esperons!_--Hail to all of
you from both of us.

Yours ever,
T. Carlyle

LXIV. Carlyle to Emerson

Chelsea, London, 21 May, 1841

My Dear Emerson,--About a week ago I wrote to you, after too long
a silence. Since that there has another Letter come, with a
Draft of L100 in it, and other comfortable items not pecuniary;
a line in acknowledgment of the money is again very clearly among
my duties. Yesterday, on my first expedition up to Town, I gave
the Paper to Fraser; who is to present the result to me in the
shape of cash tomorrow. Thanks, and again thanks. This L100, I
think, nearly clears off for me the outlay of the second _French
Revolution;_ an ill-printed, ill-conditioned publication, the
prime cost of which, once all lying saved from the Atlantic
whirlpools and hard and fast in my own hand, it was not perhaps
well done to venture thitherward again. To the new trouble of my
friends withal! We will now let the rest of the game play itself
out as it can; and my friends, and my one friend, must not take
more trouble than their own kind feelings towards me will reward.

The Books, the _Dial_ No. 4, and Appleton's pirated _Lectures,_
are still expected from Green. In a day or two he will send