July 1847-March 1848

The Collected Letters, Volume 22


TC TO MARGARET A. CARLYLE ; 26 October 1847; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18471026-TC-MAC-01; CL 22: 136-137


Chelsea, 26 Octr, 1847— (Tuesday)

My dear Mother,—Yesterday, like a traitor as I was, I forgot to send your Newspaper! Today I send it, with a small Note to boot, expression of my repentance. The excuse was, I was in a terrible hurry all day, wishing to have something finished within time; and never went out at all till after dinner,—never remembered, till I was far out on the streets and it was after post-time, that my poor Mother's Newspaper was not yet set on the road for her! That is the real fact; and, like a good boy found in fault, I promise that it shall not occur again.— Dear Mother, I know you do not care in the least about this; but I feel the neglect, and will mend it as I can.

We are very well here; and, for the present, and only about a small job, very busy. The small job is, with some Letters of Cromwell; of which you shall hear and see, when the thing comes out in Fraser's Magazine.1 A mere nothing; but I decided to have it off my hand; and the reason of my great hurry yesterday was, that I had just learnt Emerson was coming,—who would put an end to work for some time! Emerson accordingly came;2 is now here with us; arrived just about an hour after my operations were completed;—and there has been nothing but talk talk ever since. He is a fine pure gentle ingenious creature; and we think we shall both like him very well: he has to go back again to Lancashire, and begin lecturing and so forth in the course of next week. No more of him at present.

Jack was here, as usual, to dinner with us on Sabbath. He is very well and brisk in health, but dreadfully busy with his Dante,—indeed I think working too hard,—and we [see]3 little of him except when the movement is on our part. He does not yet say anything about going home to you, but I think will move in that direction by and by.4— Jane still busies herself in the evenings with Moffat's Book; and professed to like it very well! I think I will read it too, dear Mother, if it were for your sake only.— — By the bye, this ink is too thick, and much of our ink is: I wonder if Jamie could get two or perhaps three (no more) of those three-half-penny inkbottles at Ecclefechan, and stick them among the meal? I suppose they would be quite safe there, being well sealed; and they might occasionally be of use to us here. If it cost difficulty, let nobody bother himself with it.— Dear Mother, there was seldom a scraggier Note than this; but my heart goes with it: I send blessings to you and all. Yours evermore T. Carlyle