Dear Mrs. Emerson,--Your Husband's Letter shall have answer when
some moment of leisure is granted me; he will wait till then,
and must. But the beautiful utterance which you send over to me;
melodious as the voice of flutes, of Aeolian Harps borne on the
rude winds so _far,_--this must have answer, some word or
growl of answer, be there leisure or none! The "Acadia," it
seems, is to return from Liverpool the day after tomorrow. I
shove my paper-whirlpools aside for a little, and grumble in
pleased response.
You are an enthusiast; make Arabian Nights out of dull foggy
London Days; with your beautiful female imagination, shape
burnished copper Castles out of London Fog! It is very beautiful
of you;--nay, it is not foolish either, it is wise. I have a
guess what of truth there may be in that; and you the fair
Alchemist, are you not all the richer and better that you know
the _essential_ gold, and will not have it called pewter or
spelter, though in the shops it is only such? I honor such
Alchemy, and love it; and have myself done something in that
kind. Long may the talent abide with you; long may I abide to
have it exercised on me! Except the Annandale Farm where my good
Mother still lives, there is no House in all this world which I
should be gladder to see than the one at Concord. It seems to
stand as only over the hill, in the next Parish to me, familiar
from boyhood. Alas! and wide-waste Atlantics roll between; and
I cannot walk over of an evening!--I never give up the hope of
getting thither some time. Were I a little richer, were I
a little healthier; were I this and that--!--One has no
Fortunatus' "Time-annihilating" or even "Space-annihilating Hat":
it were a thing worth having in this world.
My Wife unites with me in all kindest acknowledgments: she is
getting stronger these last two years; but is still such a
_sailor_ as the Island hardly parallels: had she the _Space-
annihilating Hat,_ she too were soon with you.
Your message shall reach Miss Martineau; my Dame will send it in
her first Letter. The good Harriet is not well; but keeps a
very courageous heart. She lives by the shore of the beautiful
blue Northumbrian Sea; a "many-sounding" solitude which I often
envy her. She writes unweariedly, has many friends visiting her.
You saw her _Toussaint l'Ouverture:_ how she has made such a
beautiful "black Washington," or "Washington-Christ-Macready," as
I have heard some call it, of a rough-handed, hard-headed, semi-
articulate gabbling Negro; and of the horriblest phasis that
"Sansculottism" _can_ exhibit, of a Black Sansculottism, a
musical Opera or Oratorio in pink stockings! It is very
beautiful. Beautiful as a child's heart,--and in so shrewd a
head as that. She is now writing express Children's-Tales, which
I calculate I shall find more perfect.
Some ten days ago there went from me to Liverpool, perhaps there
will arrive at Concord by this very "Acadia," a bundle of Printed
Sheets directed to your Husband: pray apprise the man of that.
They are sheets of a Volume called _Lectures on Heroes;_ the
Concord Hero gets them without direction or advice of any kind.
I have got some four sheets more ready for him here; shall
perhaps send them too, along with this. Some four again more
will complete the thing. I know not what he will make of it;--
perhaps wry faces at it?
Adieu, dear Mrs. Emerson. We salute you from this house. May
all good which the Heavens grant to a kind heart, and the good
which they never _refuse_ to one such, abide with you always. I
commend myself to your and Emerson's good Mother, to the
mischievous Boys and--all the Household. Peace and fair Spring-
weather be there!
Yours with great regard,
T. Carlyle