The Collected Letters, Volume 27


TC TO CHARLES REDWOOD ; 26 May 1852; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18520526-TC-CR-01; CL 27: 122


Chelsea, 26 May, 1852—

Dear Redwood,

There is no Wales for me at present. We have been a week in the Country, where yr Letter reached us, thanks to your ever-hospitable heart: we returned yesterday; and having now exhausted the miracle of “change of air” which all the world bothers you with as sovereign and immediate in such cases, I decide that it will be clearly expedient to keep within my own shop thro' the future stages of this business. The hours of sleepless nights &c &c, inevitable for me in all stranger houses, are a sufficient monition to be content with what “air” (among other things) is attainable at home!— The fact is, I consider the disease to be as good as altogether gone; and the weakness &c that remain can only disappear gradually by the aid of time and care.

It was very sad not to see you that evening, on your annual or biennial visit! But in fact, if one is, in search of sadness, there is no want of that anywhere, and the only course in general is to hold one's tongue.— A little fraction of work, precious fraction saved like gold from the general blazing fire of human follies, ought to be possible for everybody who is still alive: alas, the true misery is, to be deprived even of this, and to see one's own days too going up in idle conflagration like those of the general fools of this world! Patience, patience,—silence at least.

As I have many Notes to write, and all writing has still a tendency to give me headache, I cease for the present; and dismiss you with my thanks and blessings. When I shall see Boverton1 again, or whether ever, is greatly uncertain; but that I should forget it or you, while I am anywhere in the world, is not very possible. Nay it is a real and continual possession to me, tho' I never see it more.

Yours ever truly /

T. Carlyle