The Correspondence of Thomas Carlyle and Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1834-1872, Vol. I XXXI. Carlyle to Emerson
by Thomas Carlyle
Chelsea, London, 2 December, 1838
My Dear Emerson,--Almost the very day after my last Letter went
off, the long-expected two volumes of Miscellanies arrived.
The heterodox pamphlet has never yet come to hand. I am now to
write you again about that Miscellany concern the fourth
letter, I do believe; but it is confirmatory of the foregoing
three, and will be the last, we may hope.
Fraser is charmed with the look of your two volumes; declares
them unsurpassable by art of his; and wishes (what is the main
part of this message) that you would send his cargo in the
bound state, bound and lettered as these are, with the sole
difference that the leaves be not cut, or shaved on the sides,
our English fashion being to have them rough. He is impatient
that the Book were here; desires further that it be sent to the
Port of London rather than another Port, and that it be packed in
boxes "to keep the covers of the volumes safe,"--all which I
doubt not the Packers and the Shippers of New England have
dexterity enough to manage for the best, without desire of his.
If you have printed off nothing yet, I will desire for my own
behoof that Two hundred and Sixty be the number sent; I find I
shall need some ten to give away: if your first sheet is printed
off, let the number stand as it was. It would be an improvement
if you could print our title-pages on paper a little stronger;
that would stand ink, I mean: the fly leaves in the same, if you
have such paper convenient; if not, not. Farther as to the
matter of the title-page, it seems to me your Printer might
give a bolder and a broader type to the words "Critical and
Miscellaneous," and add after "Essays" with a colon (:), the
line "Collected and Republished," with a colon also; then the
"By," &c. "In Four Volumes, Vol. I.," &c. I mean that we want,
in general, a little more ink and decisiveness: show your man
the title-page of the English French Revolution, or look at it
your self, and you will know. R.W.E.'s "Advertisement," friendly
and good, as all his dealings are to me ward, will of course be
suppressed in the English copies. I see not that with propriety
I can say anything by way of substitute: silence and the New
England imprint will tell the story as eloquently as there
is need.
For the rest you must tell Mr. Loring, and all men who had a hand
in it along with you, that I am altogether right well pleased
with this edition, and find it far beyond my expectation. To my
two young Friends, Henry S. McKean (be so good as write these
names more indisputably for me) and Charles Stearns Wheeler, in
particular, I will beg you to express emphatically my gratitude;
they have stood by me with right faithfulness, and made the
correctest printing; a great service had I known that there
were such eyes and heads acting in behalf of me there, I would
have scraped out the Editorial blotches too (notes of admiration,
dashes, "We think"s, &c., &c., common in Jeffrey's time in the
Edinburgh Review) and London misprints; which are almost the
only deformities that remain now. It is extremely correct
printing wherever I have looked, and many things are silently
amended; it is the most fundamental service of all. I have not
the other Articles by me at present; I think they are of
themselves a little more correct; at all events there are
nothing but misprints to deal with;--the Editors, by this time,
had got bound up to let me alone. In the Life of Scott, fourth
page of it (p. 296 of our edition), there is a sentence to be
deleted. "It will tell us, say they, little new and nothing
pleasing to know": out with this, for it is nonsense, and was
marked for erasure in the manuscript, I dare say. I know with
certainty no more at present.
Fraser is to sell the Four Volumes at Two Guineas here. On
studying accurately your program of the American mercantile
method, I stood amazed to contrast it with our English one. The
Bookseller here admits that he could, by diligent bargaining, get
up such a book for something like the same cost or a little
more; but the "laws of the trade" deduct from the very front of
the selling price--how much think you--forty percent and odd,
when your man has only fifteen; for the mere act of vending!
To cover all, they charge that enormous price. (A man, while I
stood consulting with Fraser, came in and asked for Carlyle's
Revolution; they showed it him, he asked the price; and
exclaimed, "Guinea and a half! I can get it from America for
nine shillings!" and indignantly went his way; not without
reason.) There are "laws of the trade" which ought to be
repealed; which I will take the liberty of contravening to all
lengths by all opportunities--if I had but the power! But if
this joint-stock American plan prosper, it will answer rarely.
Fraser's first French Revolution, for instance, will be done,
he calculates, about New-Year's-day; and a second edition
wanted; mine to do with what I like. If you in America
wanted more also--? I leave you to think of this.--And now
enough, enough!
My Brother went from us last Tuesday; ought to be in Paris
yesterday. I am yet writing nothing; feel forsaken, sad, sick,
--not unhappy. In general Death seems beautiful to me; sweet and
great. But Life also is beautiful, is great and divine, were it
never to be joyful any more. I read Books, my wife sewing by me,
with the light of a sinumbra, in a little apartment made snug
against the winter; and am happiest when all men leave me alone,
or nearly all,--though many men love me rather, ungrateful that I
am. My present book is Horace Walpole; I get endless stuff
out of it; epic, tragic, lyrical, didactic: all inarticulate
indeed. An old blind Schoolmaster in Annan used to ask with
endless anxiety when a new scholar was offered him, "But are ye
sure he's not a Dunce?" It is really the one thing needful in
a man; for indeed (if we will candidly understand it) all else
is presupposed in that. Horace Walpole is no dunce, not a fibre
of him is duncish.
Your Friend Sumner was here yesterday, a good while, for the
first time: an ingenious, cultivated, courteous man; a little
sensitive or so, and with no other fault that I discerned. He
borrowed my copy of your Dartmouth business, and bound himself
over to return with it soon. Some approve of that here, some
condemn: my Wife and another lady call it better even than the
former, I not so good. And now the Heterodox, the Heterodox,
where is that? Adieu, my dear Friend. Commend me to the Concord
Household; to the little Boy, to his Grandmother, and Mother,
and Father; we must all meet some day,--or some no-day then
(as it shall please God)! My Wife heartily greets you all.
Ever yours,
T. Carlyle
I sent your book, message, and address to Sterling; he is in
Florence or Rome. Read the article Simonides by him in the
London and Westminster--brilliant prose, translations--wooden?
His signature is L (Pounds Sterling!).--Now you are to write
soon? I always forgot to tell you, there came long since two
packages evidently in your hand, marked "One printed sheet," and
"one Newspaper," for which the Postman demanded about Fifteen
shillings: rejected. After considerable correspondence the
Newspaper was again offered me at ten pence; the sheet
unattainable altogether: "No," even at tenpence. The fact is,
it was wrong wrapped, that Newspaper. Leave it open at the ends,
and try me again, once; I think it will come almost gratis.
Steam and Iron are making all the Planet into one Village.--A Mr.
Dwight wrote to me about the dedicating of some German
translations: Yes. What are they or he?*--Your Sartor is
off through Kennet. Could you send me two copies of the American
Life of Schiller, if the thing is fit for making a present of,
and easy to be got? If not, do not mind it at all.--Addio!
* Mr. John S. Dwight, whose volume of Select Minor Poems from
the German of Goethe and Schiller, published in 1839, was
dedicated to Carlyle. It was the third volume of Specimens of
Foreign Standard Literature, edited by George Ripley. Beside Mr.
Dwight's own excellent versions, it contained translations by Mr.
Bancroft, Dr. Hedge, Dr. Frothingham, and others. For many years
Mr. Dwight rendered a notable public service as the editor of
Dwight's Journal of Music,--a publication which did more than
any other to raise and to maintain high the standard of musical
taste and culture in America.
