The Collected Letters, Volume 13


TC TO JOHN FORSTER ; 18 December 1841; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18411218-TC-JF-01; CL 13: 322-323


Chelsea, Saturday Morng [18 December 1841]

Dear Forster,

I make no doubt you have long since finished all you meant with Emerson's Oration: pray Heaven the little Pamphlet be not irretrievably absorbed in those vortices of new Literature that fluctuate round you like clouds round the feet of Cloud-compelling Jove! If so we must even be content. I did not mean to ask the thing back from you: but I find I owe one copy to Sterling, and there is no other attainable now. See therefore if you can find it (the Oration is what I mean, not the Dial1), like a dextrous man; then doubling it length-wise, still dextrously, insert the inclosed Note2 (taking heed of its address first); wrap the whole in half a sheet of paper; clap those four stamps on it; address duly, and—and— You see the rest of the process; you and that dextrous little Famulus of yours!

For the rest if you cannot find the thing, never mind; send off the Note, and Sterling will understand how things have gone, and swiftly console himself.

All this I have meant for the last seven days or more to come and state to you by word of mouth. But the frightful distance—and then I have forgot your Open Sesame, what it was; and I have been three days at the Museum, and have my “Museum headache.”3 Finally I am obliged to write. Why do you never come; never?

I have been reading your Strafford over again last week.4 You know me as one not given to compliments: but I cannot help saying that I did feel myself to be reading a right faithful piece of investigation, by far the truest picture ever given of that man. This is my verdict after the second reading; after getting to know somewhat for myself about those matters. Euge [Well done]!

I am / Yours always

T. Carlyle