The Book will not be out here for six good weeks from this date; it could be kept back for a week or two longer, if that were indispensable:  but I hope it may not.  In three weeks, half of it will be printed; I, in the meanwhile, get a correct manuscript Copy of the latter half made ready:  joining the printed sheets and this manuscript, your Bookseller will have a three weeks’ start of any rival, if I instantly despatch the Parcel to him.  Will this do? this with the announcement of the Title as given above?  Pray write to me straightway, and say.  Your answer will be here before we can publish; and the Packet of Proof-sheets and Manuscript may go off whether there be word from you or none.—­And so enough of Past and Present. And indeed enough of all things, for my haste is excessive in these hours.

The last Dial came to me about three weeks ago as a Post-Letter, charged something like a guinea of postage, if I remember; so it had to be rejected, and I have not yet seen that Number; but will when my leeway is once brought up a little again.  The two preceding Numbers were, to a marked extent, more like life than anything I had seen before of the Dial. There was not indeed anything, except the Emersonian Papers alone, which I know by the first ring of them on the tympanum of the mind, that I properly speaking liked; but there was much that I did not dislike, and did half like; and I say, “I fausto pede; that will decidedly do better!” By the bye, it were as well if you kept rather a strict outlook on Alcott and his English Tail,—­I mean so far as we here have any business with it.  Bottomless imbeciles ought not to be seen in company with Ralph Waldo Emerson, who has already men listening to him on this side of the water.  The “Tail” has an individual or two of that genus,—­and the rest is mainly yet undecided.  For example, I knew old —–­ myself; and can testify, if you will believe me, that few greater blockheads (if “blockhead” may mean “exasperated imbecile” and the ninth part of a thinker) broke the world’s bread in his day.  Have a care of such!  I say always to myself, —­and to you, which you forgive me.

Adieu, my dear Emerson.  May a good Genius guide you; for you are alone, alone; and have a steep pilgrimage to make,—­ leading high, if you do not slip or stumble!

Ever your affectionate,
                  T. Carlyle

LXXXII.  Carlyle to Emerson

Chelsea, 1 April, 1843

My Dear Carlyle,—­Along with this Letter there will go from Liverpool, on the 4th instant, the promised Parcel, complete Copy of the Book called Past and Present, of which you already had two simultaneous announcements.* The name of the Steam Packet, I understand, is the “Britannia.”  I have addressed the Parcel to the care of “Messrs. Little and Brown, Booksellers, Boston,” with your name atop:  I calculate it will arrive safe enough.