October 1845-July 1846

The Collected Letters, Volume 20


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 13 July 1846; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18460713-TC-JWC-01; CL 20: 229-230


Chelsea, 13 july, 1846—

Dearest, I hope the Seaforth Post-Office will exert itself, and endeavour to be punctual on this occasion for once! I send thee a poor little Card-case, a small memorial of Bastille-day,1 and of another day also very important to me and thee! My poor little Jeannie,—no heart ever wished another more truly “many happy returns”;—or if “happy returns” are not in our vocabulary, then “wise returns,” wise and true and brave, which after all are the only “happiness,” as I conjecture, that we have any right to look for in this Segment of Eternity that we are traversing together, thou and I. God bless thee, Darling;—and know thou always, in spite of the chimeras and delusions that thou art dearer to me than any earthly creature. That is a fact, if it can be of any use to thy poor soul to know it. And so accept my little Gift, and kiss it as I have done; and say, In the name of Heaven it shall yet all be well; and my poor Husband is the man I have always known him from of old,—is and will be!—

I meant to write a longer Letter; but the moments are counted for me; and I am nearly roasted to death before starting. Such a passage in that Steamer: it seems to me I will never set foot in one again. I walked out to Addiscombe on Saturday afternoon; carrying a clean shirt and comb in my pocket; and did very well with that luggage,—and indeed very well altogether; the Lady “sick”; Baring engaged in agricultural donothingisms; nobody else there at all: a very quiet time, and even considerable sleep and rest; but this horrid baking for two hours on the River has spoiled all!— Much bewildered nonsense lying waiting for me; of which a word tomorrow.—— —— Bobus has not the strangles, no, he has only a “slight sore throat”; I mean to pack him off northward and to follow soon. This week probably.— Who is Mrs Bonham Carter?2 No other person has been here in my absence. I send a little Note of Jack's. I am roasting, and the stroke of 4½ is at hand. Adieu Dearest