candlestick

January-September 1856


The Collected Letters, Volume 31


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TC TO JOSEPH NEUBERG ; 9 May 1856; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18560509-TC-JN-01; CL 31: 88-90


TC TO JOSEPH NEUBERG

Chelsea, 9 May, 1856–

Dear Neuberg,

Thanks for Preuss's1 intelligence: I wish he had told us how he knew that Bonneville was the writer (for it very little resembles anything else I ever saw of that vain Schrift,2 who began as a revolutionary Quasi-Mirabeau, and ended, about 30 years ago, as a Dealer in old Books!)—he might, at lowest, have told us when the impious twaddle was first published?3 However, we must be thankful.— Thankful also for Ramin4 and the Adjutant (Prince Royal I had already got, out of a Book by Ségur,5 whh I have been reading): Ramin is very unlovely,—not unlike his history.

There is great misery and travail here about getting some Beginning for Vol. I actually ready for Printers: I spent yesterday looking over some of these unutterable Paper-masses, a sight to fill one with despair. It seemed to me not one word would suit; and I was not far from clearing my drawers, and delivering the whole abomination to the fire. However, I must have more patience than that (Patience, among other defective virtues), for the thing requires to be done.

Publisher Chapman (not John) proposes, at the same time, a “Collective Edition” such as has been long talked of: 16 voll. 6/ each (handsome volumes, tho' in smallish type), monthly, to start about September;—there is going to be wanted an accurate hand, and quick eye, to help me then; especially to do a good Index, whh is the work of sound intellect as well as of hand and eye! You I could not think of employing on such services: indeed it grieves me often to think what slavery you have had, without return or result, except an inward one, so to speak! I have my eye vaguely on one or two hireable persons (none altogether ideally fit): if you know, or fall in with, any likely youth (a good hand-writing, sound common sense, and chiefly perfect honesty, as the main requisites), pray let me know.

The other day, a young speculative gentn,6 much occupied about founding a daily Newspaper on sublimely true principles, very unlike the Times, and who is trying to ascertain if there are any writers discoverable (the Economics &c of the thing being all ready if only the soul could be had),—made me give him your Address, as that of the writer in the Westminster &c. He is a well-disposed (perhaps slightly Germanized) young gentn, and really intends high things: but you are not bound to make any answer, if he come to you, except what will altogether please yourself, and suit your own wishes.

We are to be here this next Sunday Evg: pray come again and see what we are doing. Has Mr Todhunter7 still a power of buying good horses for weary pedestrian friends? I perceive, a Horse is going to be one of my prime requisites soon.

Yours ever truly —

T. Carlyle