TC TO HENRY INGLIS; 8 July 1834; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18340708-TC-HI-01; CL 7:239-240.
TC TO HENRY INGLIS
5. Great Cheyne Row, Chelsea, London, 8th July, 1834—
My Dear Inglis,
You heard above two months ago that we were bound for London; our then probable address has not proved the real one; which latter I now at last send you. Infinite has been and still is the hurlyburly. Quietness however is now visible in the distance.
There is a room here for you when you come to London: actually a “spare bed,” strange as that phenomenon in Coekneyland is. Stranger still, and actually true once more, there is an old Scottish welcome. Let us see your face some time; let us have your kind thoughts often.
The Teufel Manuscript, be the Heavens thanked, is now all but finished: loud, earnest, universal has been the disapproval of it.1 A la bonne heure [Well and good]! The critical world of London, whereunto shall one liken it? To the bug world of the same city; blind, fetid, poisonous, ineradicable: a million individual bugs you scald and crack, but there in its foul glory bugdom flourishes and has flourished.— I am also about writing another Book with my name to it. You shall have a copy of these things; of Teufel perhaps very soon.
When you cross the Mound will you give these Cards as addressed; to the Doctor2 and the college Porter. My wife sends her love to you and yours. Hold fast by your anchors! “Whatever others do, as for me and my house we will serve the Lord.”3 It is better, I am told, than serving the Devil. Infinitely!
With true affection, /