The Collected Letters, Volume 12


TC TO JEAN CARLYLE AITKEN ; 10 October 1840; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18401010-TC-JCA-01; CL 12: 283-284


Chelsea, Saturday— / 10 Octr 1840—

My dear Jean,

Perhaps the accompanying Note1 from Jack may be worth a penny to you; I send it off before going out to my walks and affairs.

He has passed, as I apprehended, without being able to see you. Our Mother, I infer, knows of his movements: but you probably not. If you could send word to Mary, they would probably then all know. I hope Jack and I may meet now, some time before long. He is truly “made like unto a wheel”;2 a mortal that knows rest nowhere. It is well that motion, from of old, was an appetite of his.

We have brilliant October weather now; at least it must be such—where there is no smoke to deform it:—excellent for harvest. We hope our Farm-people are getting on smartly; but, except hopes, no intimation reaches us.

Some great people called Stanleys3 in Cheshire invite me yesterday to go and rusticate with them; it would have brought me almost within sight of Liverpool; but, alas, I decline. Great masses of Books are getting gathered round me,—work for the winter: I must sit still here, and ply diligently. I hope to write another Book by and by!

Jane is well; better than I am these two days, a beggarly running at the nose afflicting me. It will be off soon for I am otherwise strong, and able for long walks in the loneliest lanes I can find hereabouts; some of them really lonely at present, and strewed with mournful autumn leaves. Today I am for the City, a long way off, thro' din and reek, to buy certain bits of books. I am too long here already!

Adieu, dear Sister. Commend us to James, to both the Jameses.

Yours ever truly /

T. Carlyle