TC TO JOHN STERLING ; 9 March 1843; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18430309-TC-JOST-01; CL 16: 70-71
TC TO JOHN STERLING
Chelsea 9 March / 1843—
Here is your Verran's Epistle to the Cornubians1 again: I fear the poor man will go mad; but he has at least a better chance, keeping cows, in sight of green fields, skies and other actualities, than imprisoned in the bowels of the Earth, and his own Magic-lantern Phantasms merely. If the Subscription can contribute to save him, it will do well; which may the gods grant.
I finished my poor Book yesterday, in a very sick condition (it and I); and today have corrected the first sheet of it: we find there are to be some 19 in all; and it will be towards May, I conjecture, before the sluggish people let me quite free of it.
Tonight I go to the House of Lords to hear old Wellington speak: I want to hear the voice of that old blade, what kind of sound it has; once, while we are still both in this world.2
My poor little sweetheart, whom I remember, as if still seeing her: it is bad news this you send me of her!3 I long for the Southwest winds for all your sakes. The weather here is infinitely too vehement to admit of you yet for a while, were all the rest propitious.
I have quantities of Letters to despatch today; and have already pored my eyes out, rectifying “Copy.”
Adieu, dear Sterling. Get strong again, and come to see us.
Yours ever /
I am attending a Lyell's Course of Lectures on Geology, too;—in our old shop up in Edwardstreet Portman Square.4 The audience a square-jawed harsh male company of near 200; the Lecturer clear— but of kin to Neptune, I fear!5