July-December 1855

The Collected Letters, Volume 30


TC TO JOSEPH NEUBERG ; 19 September 1855; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18550919-TC-JN-01; CL 30: 70


Addiscombe Farm, 19 Septr 1855—

Dear Neuberg,

We were sorry you did not come on Sunday Evg;1 the rather as your absence gave room to surmise that you were still on the sick list. Finding nothing from you here, on my return, nor since, I begin to wish considerably for a line,—to set my extravagant imagination at rest, were there nothing else. I shall be here till Saturday evening, perhaps longer; so that if you write at once, there is no danger of missing me. A single word as to how you are, that is all I want.

My sunday and monday in Chelsea were by no means so quiet as the days are here: Clough & his Wife2 had come down to us; Browning also was there, whom I hope you may have some other opportunity of meeting. I came riding out again in the damp dusk of Monday; and have been as solitary as St Antony3 ever since. A great relief to get rid of the babble of the world altogether, for a few hours; and let the sombrest voices of Fact speak to us a little, which at least do mean what they say!— The Life of Fredk I must own, takes a very formidable aspect in some of these abstruse “Dialogues with the Silences”; a work as good as “impossible” &c &c,—that is still my private opinion about it;—nevertheless I do not mean to give in; nor do I doubt but some good (whether in that form or another) will come to me from whatever honest labour I have put into that affair. Vorwärts [Forward], therefore. My little four-footed friend continues very helpful, willingly and wisely doing his part,—giving me sight of many fine green scenes and solitudes, whh without him were inaccessible.— “Sebastopol” does not concern me much: if it were completely “taken” (whh it is far from being) what good cd be in it, except that people wd give up speaking of it?

Yours always

T. Carlyle