The Collected Letters, Volume 12


TC TO JANE WILSON ; 10 April 1840; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18400410-TC-JWI-01; CL 12: 100-101


Chelsea, Friday morning, / 10 April, 1840—

Dear Miss Wilson,

You are always very good to me. I calculated on seeing you yesterday, when I had business in Regent Street and then in the City; but, unfortunate man! the Chelsea Hospital Clock told me I was already too late for my engagement with Fraser; that I must walk, as with seven-league boots, and see no face of a friend that bout! The crashing uproar of that long range of thoroughfares, mostly unfamiliar to me of late, was like to drive my head distracted. In the evening at ½ past 7 o'clock, I had to dine! You behold this morning the Knight of the sorrowful countenance;1 a perfect Smelfungus Redivivus.2 Methought I heard a voice say, Dine no more, Macbeth doth murder dinners!3

One of these days, if luck stead me, I will surely see you. Nay independently of luck, I will have my “'Ors 'olded, sir,” and insist on attempting. I have a China Pamphlet for you;4 I shall have Prospectuses in a day or two.

Yours ever truly /

T. Carlyle—