TC TO HENRY TAYLOR; 26 March 1849; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18490326-TC-HT-01; CL 23: 258-259
TC TO HENRY TAYLOR
Chelsea, 26 March, 1849—
Thank you for again remembering us: your kindness in this direction is of old standing now, and you may believe is never quite forgotten here.
The Female branch of this establishment laments to find the weather so inclement, and does not think of venturing. As for me, I also have misgivings as to Thursday; but will soon make the voyage out1 on some more independent principle. To an ancient sage philosopher,—who has read Alexander Ross over,2—and has had such terrible instructions as to the nature of this Universe in general, what are Boat Races! Phenomena of a quite subaltern description. Alas, is not Life itself, in these mad times, a kind of universal Boat Race, or land match run in sacks, with terrible agony to the toiling rowers and runners; and the prize a painted egg-shell? Spare me your Boat Races;3—which can only create a tendency to weep, or to weep and laugh both at once! But the sight of friendly Hy Taylor people: Yes, that is something; and that I will accomplish some day before long for my own behoof, if all go well. Some Sunday most likely:—who knows if not next Sunday.
For many weeks I have quite lost trace of Aubrey de Vere. He parted from me one wet evening in the friendliest manner, with the hope left me of a speedy remeeting;—and at that point the faithless mortal appears to have,—if I may say so,—cut his stick! These are not joyful symptoms of the state of the world at present.
with very kind regards to the loyallest Wife in England,
Yours, Dear Taylor, always