candlestick

October 1845-July 1846


The Collected Letters, Volume 20


-----

TC TO EDWARD FITZGERALD ; 26 July 1846; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18460726-TC-EF; CL 20: 258-259


TC TO EDWARD FITZGERALD

Seaforth House, Liverpool 26 july, 1846—

Dear Fitzgerald,

After much futile consultation with myself, about walking in the Chiltern Hills and other equally promising speculations, Naseby having failed, and Suffolk lying on the wrong side of the Country for me,1—I decided last monday morning that I was too much of a spooney at present for any of those adventures; that I ought once for all to stow myself like luggage, which was my real character, into the Liverpool train, and so be bowled off straight to my destination, with no effort but that of packing my boxes, and paying so much cash. On Thursday accordingly I did, not without an effort, get seated in the mail train; and that same afternoon, was honourably carried hither,—safe so far, and without exertion more than even a spooney was equal to. That is the history of my travels hitherto; which I meant to have given you some days sooner, had not indolence still prevailed. In fact I do nothing here, but smoke a good deal of tobacco, bathe once daily in the Mersey brine, dawdle about among the shady groves, and listen to the great voice of the sea and the winds. An extremely indolent man indeed.

Suffolk and Boulge House I do by no means score out of my Books, tho' on this occasion I could not entertain the kind offer: such hospitality as you describe really seems as if it would suit me right well; and at some other time the thought of running out from Cockneydom thither will certainly strive to realize itself;—a good time, which we hope is coming at no very great distance.

The beautiful fresh air and quiet are nerving me here a little: before getting into Scotland, in about a week hence, I think of a flying glance at Ireland,—over to Dublin, then up the coast to Belfast, and so home:—but we shall see whether that proves executable or not! After that, for aught I know, I am in Scotland till I go to Chelsea again. “Scotsbrig, Ecclefechan N. B.” is always a central address for me in those regions, should you or your thoughts by good chance happen to wander thitherward.

Heaven love you.

Yours very truly /

T. Carlyle

My Horse (Bobus we call him) goes across with me to Scotland; ends his carreer2 there. Greathirst has been most helpful and faithful in all manner of emergencies connected with the Bobus department. A really worthy man.