January 1835-June 1836

The Collected Letters, Volume 8


TC TO JOHN STUART MILL; 27 May 1835; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18350527-TC-JSM-01; CL 8:124-125.


Chelsea, Wednesday Morning [27 May 1835]—

My Dear Mill,

Hannah More's Books have never come; and now I begin to question whether it is not too late. If they are bought, I will still at least take a look at them: if they are not bought, pray do not buy them.1

This is now the third week I have gone quite idle; merely reading or talking all manner of nonsense or sense I fell in with: against which state of things Conscience, like an angry scorpion, protests stinging. I have resumed that old Sorrow; less to work at it, hitherto, than to walk thro' it and round it, with what clearness is possible, considering how to take it up,—or whether throwing it down, and into the fire, one good time for all, were not the better method for it. I will do nothing rashly; but in one way or the other I must be rid of it, if I would live peaceably in this Earth. Let it not distress you. I continue to believe with the tenacity of a Credo quia impossibile2 that it is and will be verily all for the best.

We have seen a good deal of Sterling3 since you were here; and like him very much. His name surely is Hopeful, or Hoping. We even heard him preach.

When is this walk to take place? I expect to be at home almost every night for some time.

Garnier's4 Translation, as I take it, has evaporated. It would have done your heart good to see and hear with what a shriek of amazement little Tilt of Fleet Street “declined the Article.”5 To me it seemed to say again: Book-writing is done here, my friend; seek thou another trade.

Come soon as may be.

Ever faithfully Your's. [sic] /

T. Carlyle.