The Collected Letters, Volume 12


TC TO RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES ; 4 February 1840; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18400204-TC-RMM-01; CL 12: 27-28


Chelsea, Tuesday [4 February 1840]—

Dear Milnes,

The demon of Dyspepsia sits heavy on me at present. On friday I cannot come to breakfast;—but shall try nevertheless to come to brokenfast; that is to say, about eleven or soon after, I will hope to walk in, and hear and see you a little, as the niggardly Destinies allow.1

A Brother of mine, who has left me in these days, had undertaken to procure for a certain German Physician two orders of admittance to the House of Commons. Something miswent in the enterprise; and now my Brother writes to me in anxiety about it, from Dublin. The orders were to be for separate nights; that the stranger might have a better chance to get in. His Address is “Dr Brunner, Chandos House, Cavendish Square.”2— If the thing be not too complex, perhaps you, without going farther, could do it? If the two requisite orders (for separate nights, such as you chose, the sooner the better) were put into a cover to that address, and forwarded with the inclosed Card, my hands were washed of it. Shall I tell my Brother that it is a thing done?

No certain news of the Emerson Article yet;3 but I go on the hypothesis of reading it, in indubitable print, before long. My curiosity is considerable.

Could you ask your friend Kemble if he know any rational Danish Grammar calculated for an English, German, French or other articulate-speaking man?4 Also any Danish-English &c Dictionary; and at what shop such implements are to be had. Perhaps he could tell me farther whether Müller's Sagabibliothek is not accessible thro' the German? A certain Lachmann, the Lexicons say, had translated one volume of it some years ago.5— The old Saga of Frithiof has given me a great appetite that way. It is a right old block of Swedish iron; comparable for genuineness to Homer's Grecian gold:—the old savage Saga, I mean; not Bishop Tegner's modern aqueous solution of the said old iron into medicinal chalybeate sentimentality,—ah no!6

Believe me / always your truly /

T. Carlyle