October 1845-July 1846

The Collected Letters, Volume 20


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 15 April 1846; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18460415-TC-JWC-01; CL 20: 167-168


Chelsea, [Wedy 15 April 1846]

Thanks, Dearest, for your little canty [cheerful] Letter: it helps me thro' the solitude of my otherwise not very profitable day:—day spent in cobbling-in another Oliverism, which, accidentally turning up, duty importunately calls for! It will be the last; for indeed it concludes, is the last of the set.

I hope you got your Order, or rather her Ladyship's, safe; I hope I did not send it to the Edinr Pipemaker, and the price of the Pipes to Addiscombe! But indeed I had both Letters open in my pocket; and the day was wet, and Chorley, and the White-Owl1 (on whom I had called for a taper and seal) were very confusing to me. No doubt, after all, it went. It serves for any day to the Dulwich Gallery,—was given me in exchange for Mr Baring's card without, I think, the expenditure of one word on the Colnaghi side. May it bring you a bright drive,—and do no prejudice to German or aught else.2

Here is a leaf slit from a Yankee Newspaper sent by Emerson; also a Letter from Emerson; both of which will be worth reading. Send them on to my Mother, if you can get time; with order, if you care about it, to have them returned to you. From John, you may mention too, the White-Owl wants Villani, one of his Dante Books3

I have to go [to]4 Chorley tonight, and ‘smoke a cigar’;—dinner or even tea positively declined. About 8 o'clock: O Chorley, Chorley! ‘Losses’ have come upon Chorley ‘from an unexpected quarter’; wherefore he has sold his horse

I did not ride yesterday: I am to mount again today—in few minutes. A willing goodnatured horse, and a good martingale on him:— Tell her Ladyship, one bows to almost all her judgements with true loyalty; but as for this of the martingale, of riding with a hard hand, of “shaking of the tail,” and indeed of equestrian matters in general,—alas, her Ladyship's fine insight is confused by mere “Humbugs”; and the thing is not so!— Adieu, dear Goody; the man will be here in a minute; and I am not ready! Ever

T. C.

Taxgather5 wanting £5.16.2 paid him, packed him out