periodical criticism as by far the most original and profound
essays of the day,--the works of a man of Faith as well as
Intellect, sportive as well as learned, and who, belonging to the
despairing and deriding class of philosophers, was not ashamed to
hope and to speak sincerely. Like somebody in _Wilhelm Meister_,
I said: This person has come under obligations to me and to all
whom he has enlightened. He knows not how deeply I should grieve
at his fall, if, in that exposed England where genius always
hears the Devil's whisper, "All these kingdoms will I give thee,"
his virtue also should be an initial growth put off with age.
When therefore I found myself in Europe, I went to your house
only to say, "Faint not,--the word you utter is heard, though in
the ends of the earth and by humblest men; it works, prevails."
Drawn by strong regard to one of my teachers I went to see his
person, and as he might say his environment at Craigenputtock.
Yet it was to fulfil my duty, finish my mission, not with much
hope of gratifying him,--in the spirit of "If I love you, what is
that to you?" Well, it happened to me that I was delighted with
my visit, justified to myself in my respect, and many a time upon
the sea in my homeward voyage I remembered with joy the favored
condition of my lonely philosopher, his happiest wedlock, his
fortunate temper, his steadfast simplicity, his all means of
happiness;--not that I had the remotest hope that he should so
far depart from his theories as to expect happiness. On my
arrival at home I rehearsed to several attentive ears what I had
seen and heard, and they with joy received it.

In Liverpool I wrote to Mr. Fraser to send me Magazine, and I
have now received four numbers of the _Sartor Resartus,_ for
whose light thanks evermore. I am glad that one living scholar