The Collected Letters, Volume 12


TC TO ALEXANDER CARLYLE ; 1 August 1840; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18400801-TC-AC-01; CL 12: 213-214


Chelsea, 1 Augt, 1840—

My dear Brother,

As I find this Case will yet carry a word, I may as well return my thanks now for your very pleasant Letter as afterwards. I like the tone that prevails in this; it gives me comfort to read it. Never mind what uncomfortable people you have to deal with; what small work it may seem you are engaged in! No work is small, that an immortal soul has to transact: all work is alike great, if we go to that. Do the work well; deal with the degraded people wisely, not foolishly: it will all be right then. O my dear Brother, you do me great wrong to suppose that I can “forget” you, that any chance or change could make me do that! I have thought, and am never done thinking about your situation there! To hear that you had completely escaped that black danger; that your heart had quieted itself into silent manly composure,—not angrily proud, but patient, humble and strong: no news in this world could give me greater pleasure. This news too, if it please God, I shall hear and see, one day. You have had great troubles, enough to exasperate a very proud heart. But they will be for good; they will!— I should think of you in your little shop, with your household round you, in quiet industry, and God's blessing over you,—with true pleasure. Let me not speak any more of this.

My Mother's Letter explains all tha[t I]1 am about, and how I hope to see you by and by.

People are begun reaping hereabouts; crops not bad, I think, but thin. The distress of the working people over this Island I believe to be extreme. All men [d]read some mischief before long. It makes one sick to look at it. Poor foolish hapless Hall Moffat!2— I have no room left. Adieu, dear Brother— T. C.