1854-June 1855

The Collected Letters, Volume 29


TC TO JOHN A. CARLYLE; 3 June 1854; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18540603-TC-JAC-01; CL 29: 110-111


Chelsea, 3(!)june,1 1854—

My dear Brother,— If the thing2 will not go into the space, of course it must be abridged as you suggest: otherwise I should prefer the former way; and wish they would make their best effort, and put it so if they can. And so I now leave it altogether with you.

We have very wild cold weather here, for two days past; wind raging from the N.E. with grey troubled skies; likely to issue in floods of rain again. I am struggling and endeavouring daily up here, so far as the weakness of the nerves, liver, heart (and spirit too alas!) will permit; but I make no way hitherto; and lead but a disconsolate profitless existence in the meanwhile. In the distance, however, there do perhaps lie, after terrible struggling, some better results dimly visible. Alas, alas!—

One good thing surely is the prospect of soon seeing you again! I hope you will get tolerable Lodgings somewhere within reach of us; by Phoebe's Lady friend or otherwise. I was to say meanwhile that if you wanted to look out deliberately yourselves, or for any other reason would think of it, there is plenty of room here,—the front bedroom comfortably furnished, a good servant in the house &c &c;—and in short a wide-open door (as is to be presupposed, in this and in all times) for your landing here at No 5 on the night of your arrival. I need say nothing more of that, I hope. The fact is very clear; and I leave it with you.

Jean wrote to me lately; she seems sorry about your going; otherwise in good enough heart.—No news among us; or none that I bethink me, worth writing to you when you are so soon to be here ready for word of mouth.— Whew! I have found that it is only the 4th3 of June; not the “10th” at all, whh is the day of opening that ninth wonder of the world, the glass wonder on Sydenham Hill!4 That is a week saved, as it were. My life you may judge is secluded enough, to admit of such an error. The truth is, I frequent the lanes of late; and have not so much as been in Piccadilly these two days past. I have great quantities of dull stupid Books to read; and prefer to pass my evg in silence with that poor company rather than with worse. Adieu dear Brother; good be with you and yours;—and a happy meeting to us soon!— Your affectionate

T. Carlyle