TC TO JOSEPH NEUBERG ; 15 January 1858; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18580115-TC-JN-01; CL 33: 151
TC TO JOSEPH NEUBERG
Chelsea, 15 jany, 1858—
Very soon, either at once or successively, you will receive from the Printer, in “Slips,” the whole of that detestable Grumkow-Nosti stuff1 in its immediately ante-final state;—upon whh I have just (sorrow on it once more!) spent ten miserable days, endeavouring to force some human distinctness into it! I want you to read it over, as with armed eyesight, and see whether you find anything to rectify in it. I have been looking, as it were, with your eyes, all along; and may have missed in one point or the other. The references (foot-note references) especially I request you to watch narrowly. In such an abominable bucket of liquid mud, whh has no shape of its own, one ought to be particularly strict and distinct in giving the mechanical outline it is put into,—the shape of the bucket, I might call it! If you find anything wrong or uncertain in regard to where the Pieces are described as now being, &c &c, I pray you mark it for me.— You will need your Abstract from the Paper Office very particularly; and I have left it out for you here (Garret room; top of the little “Pedestal Chest-of-drawers,” left side of the fireplace; there you will find the Ms. Abstract, and can take it home with you,—carefully restoring it by and by).
I am going off to The Grange tomorrow (Saturday) till perhaps Wednesday: not before that day I think can your survey have been completed; after hearing you (or rather reading you, what you may have put upon the “Slips” sent), I will send them to Press,—in the sure hope of having done with them forever and a day more!— It is not likely to be much later than Wedy Evg when I get back: next Sunday, to tea, we will expect you in person
We were to have gone to The Grange on Tuesday last; but my poor Wife took cold; and after some hithering and thithering, it comes to this, that I am to go by myself; and leave her here, still poorly tho' a little better. I remember the price of the Paper!—Yours ever truly / T. Carlyle