candlestick

1854-June 1855


The Collected Letters, Volume 29


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TC TO LADY ASHBURTON; 16 February 1855; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18550216-TC-LA-01; CL 29: 263-264


TC TO LADY ASHBURTON

Chelsea, 16 feby, 1855—

Nothing goes right, all things go awry just now! Two unfortunate persons (Darwin and Examiner Forster) had been engaged to dine here on Monday,1—the first instance I can recollect of such a thing for above a year past; and it alights just on that day.— Perhaps you will let me come in, for a minute, between 4 and 5;—and if you are not engaged on Tuesday Evg, I will come for my Tea then.

Today is colder then ever:—I recommend much an immensity of wrappages for Monday, and a reservoir of hot water to the extent at least of 2 cubic feet. Indeed everything is absolutely grim and Polar in respect of weather: but we expect relief (into mud, at least) when the “Moon changes”;— I suppose the moon will not forget to change?

Yesterday little Ld Goderich came into my Garret: I did not know he was in this country; tho' it seems they were about putting him into Low's place,2 which he declined. I always augur rather well of this young man, tho' I do not yet know him at all effectually. He seems confounded at the Condition of Parliament and of public affairs, and is about going off again directly to Pau (in S. of France) where his Wife is.— Neuberg brot me down the Clanricard business:3 Ach Gott! “Tête du mort parfaitment agréable [a perfectly agreeable death's head]!”— I am happy not to be Prince Albert's heir at law;4 one had better be well out of the way, too, before he begins his operation, I should say.

It was only the day before yesterday I heard the first hint of Lady Sandwich's illness: Mitford (leading his poor or half-do blind Crimea son)5 met me coming out of Hyde Park; told me the thing, and in exaggerated terms. Jane was there yesterday; no admission, of course; but the report altogether favourable.

I am nearly frozen, body and mind; but hope there may be still some good in store for me, even in this wicked and unfortunate world. Adieu dear Lady; take care of yourself,—and be good!—

Yours ever /

T. Carlyle