to have awaked in many men the sweet sense of beauty, and to
double the courage of virtue. So do not, as you will not, let
the imps from all the fens of weariness and apathy have a minute
too much. To die of feeding the fires of others were sweet,
since it were not death but multiplication. And yet I hold to a
more orthodox immortality too.

This morning in happiest time I have a letter from George Ripley,
who tells me you have written him, and that you say pretty
confidently you will come next summer. _Io paean!_ He tells me
also that Alexander Everett (brother of Edward) has sent you the
friendly notice that has just appeared in the _North American
Review,_ with a letter.* All which I hope you have received. I
am delighted, for this man represents a clique to which I am a
stranger, and which I supposed might not love you. It must be
you shall succeed when Saul prophesies. Indeed, I have heard
that you may hear the _Sartor_ preached from some of our best
pulpits and lecture-rooms. Don't think I speak of myself, for I
cherish carefully a salutary horror at the German style, and hold
off my admiration as long as ever I can. But all my importance
is quite at an end. For now that Doctors of Divinity and the
solemn Review itself have broke silence to praise you, I have
quite lost my plume as your harbinger.

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* Mr. A.H. Everett's paper on _Sartor Resartus_ was published in
the _North American Review_ for October, 1835.
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I read with interest what you say of the political omens in