candlestick

July-December 1855


The Collected Letters, Volume 30


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TC TO JOHN A. CARLYLE ; 6 July 1855; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18550706-TC-JAC-01; CL 30: 4-6


TC TO JOHN A. CARLYLE

Chelsea 6 july 1855—

Dear Brother,

The inclosed came last night; and is evidently for you, tho' I opened it without dubitations. If you want anything more to be done in reference to that Köhler1 (except perhaps ordering it to be left here till you come) you can let me know.

The weather has grown very hot; but there is generally some breath of air, especially in the night, which makes it tolerable. We are longing for the sea shore; talking about Sandgate2 &c &c. I could carry plenty of work along with me: but the difficulties of quiet are very formidable in the pass I am now at.

The business of the old Johnson God-daughters is at last finished: it was just on the edge of getting into the Times, when the Govt (great in the smallest things) after 4 weeks of obstinate absolute silence, saw good to concede what was wanted (or the better part of it) still in an “infinitely shabby manner,” as Forster defines it. I am very thankful to be quit.

Tait had me the other day3 at the “Crystal Palace”;—road to it I found to be extremely uninviting; the place itself beautiful and wonderful, beyond all the raree-shews ever offered for 1 / ; what I called the Apotheosis of Cockneyism; and intrinsically not a beauty at all! To “learn,” &c &c out of it seemed to me very impossible.4 However I did see certain Stone Portraits (French Maréchals, Fredk Wilhelm even); and was much delighted with the Group of Niobe5 whh I had never seen copied before at all.

Erskine is off; I had a note from him of date Edinr, the other day: he is going home in about a week, he intimates.6 No 1 of the “National Review” (Martineau's Anti-Chapman)7 is come this morning: if it seem worth a groat (whh the Westminster absolutely is not) I will send it perhaps about Tuesday next.— Arbuckle marriage cards8 of a sublime pattern were left here; nothing more as yet.— Kind regards to Jamie & Isabella.

Yours ever /

T. Carlyle