April-December 1844

The Collected Letters, Volume 18


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 12 July 1844; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18440712-TC-JWC-01; CL 18: 128-129


Chelsea, friday, 12 july / 1844—

Thanks, Dearest; here is the Note reporting that the cold is gone, and all well! I shall fancy you very tolerably off now, for a day or two. Be in no haste to exchange the big house and the Sea shore for Maryland Street,—be in haste only, if there must be haste, to exchange them for Chelsea! You cannot stay long in that hubbub of sooty Liverpool, I fear, without getting your bits of nerves all spoiled again. What has become of Chorleydom? Have you anything to do with that?

Alas, my dear Necessary Evil, I am doing little good here; my progress at any work, in spite of all endeavours and remorses, is small. Endeavour? Alas, my ‘endeavour’ is not so much a hearty pushing against my work as a helpless powerless lying down upon it: the hot weather and perverse destinies are against me. Eheu [Alas]!

Last night the Maurice smoking could not take effect; Maurice had gone out to dine. I walked on to Anthony Sterling's; Mrs Prior,1 Mrs Anthony, A. himself: a dull irrational hour of time.— Judge if a card served Miss Wilson; judge if virtue be its own reward! I have positively declined the dinner, volunteered to go after tea— The baronet Salusbury2—I have some gaunt recollection of him. The Sir and the Lady and the whole business: distilled quintessence of ennui could not threaten to be duller! One must submit to fate. Last night, however, I escaped little Masson; perhaps he won't come again for some time!

I remember your Mrs Darbyshire, your Miss Newton with her hungry enthusiasms, her haggard Catholic chimeras: it was an admirable arrangement,—acid and alkali combining into harmless neutral salt! Geraldine, however, must recover her good humour.

Who told you I meant any gifts, you little fool? Certainly I will write you a Letter!— Today I send you Punch: if you had seen the Statue & Fresco Exhibition in Westr Hall,3 you would enjoy a certain Page of it still more.— Here are heavy showers, interspersed with glaring sunshine; I am for a shr bath and out nevertheless. Bless thee dear little Jean!

T. C.