Dear Friend,--Two Letters from you were brought hither by Miss
Sedgwick last week. The series of post Letters is a little
embroiled in my head; but I have a conviction that all hitherto
due have arrived; that up to the date of my last despatch (a
_Proof-sheet_ and a Letter), which ought to be getting into your
hands in these very days, our correspondence is clear. That
Letter and Proof-sheet, two separate pieces, were sent to
Liverpool some three weeks ago, to be despatched by the first
conveyance thence; as I say, they are probably in Boston about
this time. The Proof-sheet was one of the forty-seven such which
the new _French Revolution_ is to consist of: with this, as with
a correct sample, you were to act upon some Boston Bookseller,
and make a bargain for me,--or at least report that none was to
be made. A bad bargain will content me now, my hopes are not at
all high.
For the present, I am to announce on the part of Bookseller
Fraser that the First Portion of our celebrated _Miscellanies_
have been hovering about on these coasts for several weeks, have
lain safe "in the River" for some two weeks, and ought at last to
be safe in Fraser's shop today or else to morrow. I will ask
there, and verify, before this Letter go. The reason of these
"two weeks in the river" is that the packages were addressed
"_John_ Fraser, London," and the people had tried all the Frasers
in London before they attempted the right individual, James, of
215 Regent Street. Of course, the like mistake in the second
case will be avoided. A Letter, put ashore at Falmouth, and
properly addressed, but without any _signature,_ had first of all
announced that the thing was at the door, and so with this "John
Fraser," it has been knocking ever since, finding difficult
admission. In the present instance, such delay has done no ill,
for Fraser will not sell till the Second Portion come; and with
this the mistake will be avoided. What has shocked poor James
much more is a circumstance which your Boston Booksellers have no
power to avoid: the "enormousness" of the charges in our Port
here! He sends me the account of them last Saturday, with eyes--
such as drew Priam's curtains: L31 and odd silver, whereof L28
as duty on Books at L5 per cwt. is charged by the rapacious
Custom-house alone! What help, O James? I answer: we cannot
bombard the British Custom-house, and sack it, and explode it;
we must yield, and pay it the money; thankful for what is still
left.--On the whole, one has to learn by trying. This notable
finance-expedient, of printing in the one country what is to be
sold in the other, did not take Vandalic custom-houses into view,
which nevertheless do seem to exist. We must persist in it for
the present reciprocal pair of times, having started in it for
these: but on future occasions always, we can ask the past; and
_see_ whether it be not better to let each side of the water
stand on its own basis.
As for your "accounts," my Friend, I find them clear as day,
verifiable to the uttermost farthing. You are a good man to
conquer your horror of arithmetic; and, like hydrophobic Peter
of Russia making himself a sailor, become an Accountant for my
sake. But now will you forgive me if I never do verify this same
account, or look at it more in this world except as a memento of
affection, its arithmetical ciphers so many hierograms, really
_sacred_ to me! A reflection I cannot but make is that at bottom
this money was all yours; not a penny of it belonged to me by
any law except that of helpful Friendship. I feel as if I could
not examine it without a kind of crime. For the rest, you may
rejoice to think that, thanks to you and the Books, and to Heaven
over all, I am for the present no longer poor; but have a
reasonable prospect of existing, which, as I calculate, is
literally the most that money can do for a man. Not for these
twelve years, never since I had a house to maintain with money,
have I had as much money in my possession as even now. _Allah
kerim!_ We will hope all that is good on that side. And
herewith enough of _it._
You tell me you are but "a reporter": I like you for thinking
so. And you will never know that it is _not true,_ till you have
tried. Meanwhile, far be it from me to urge you to a trial
before your time come. Ah, it will come, and soon enough; much
better, perhaps, if it never came!--A man has "_such_ a baptism
to be baptized withal," no easy baptism; and is "straitened till
it be accomplished." As for me I honor peace before all things;
the silence of a great soul is to me greater than anything it
will ever say, it ever can say. Be tranquil, my friend; utter
no word till you cannot help it;--and think yourself a
"reporter," till you find (not with any great joy) that you are
not altogether that!
We have not yet seen Miss Sedgwick: your Letters with her card
were sent hither by post we went up next day, but she was out;
no meeting could be arranged earlier than tomorrow evening, when
we look for her here. Her reception, I have no doubt, will be
abundantly flattering in this England. American Notabilities
are daily becoming notabler among us; the ties of the two
Parishes, Mother and Daughter, getting closer and closer knit.
Indissoluble ties:--I reckon that this huge smoky Wen may, for
some centuries yet, be the best Mycale for our Saxon _Panionium,_
a yearly meeting-place of "All the Saxons," from beyond the
Atlantic, from the Antipodes, or wherever the restless wanderers
dwell and toil. After centuries, if Boston, if New York, have
become the most convenient _"All-Saxondom,"_ we will right
cheerfully go thither to hold such festival, and leave the Wen.--
Not many days ago I saw at breakfast the notabest of all your
Notabilities, Daniel Webster. He is a magnificent specimen; you
might say to all the world, This is your Yankee Englishman, such
Limbs _we_ make in Yankeeland! As a Logic-fencer, Advocate, or
Parliamentary Hercules, one would incline to back him at first
sight against all the extant world. The tanned complexion, that
amorphous crag-like face; the dull black eyes under their
precipice of brows, like dull anthracite furnaces, needing only
to be _blown;_ the mastiff-mouth, accurately closed:--I have not
traced as much of _silent Berserkir-rage,_ that I remember of, in
any other man. "I guess I should not like to be your nigger!"--
Webster is not loquacious, but he is pertinent, conclusive; a
dignified, perfectly bred man, though not English in breeding: a
man worthy of the best reception from us; and meeting such, I
understand. He did not speak much with me that morning, but
seemed not at all to dislike me: I meditate whether it is fit or
not fit that I should seek out his residence, and leave _my_ card
too, before I go? Probably not; for the man is political,
seemingly altogether; has been at the Queen's levee, &c., &c.:
it is simply as a mastiff-mouthed _man_ that he is interesting to
me, and not otherwise at all.
In about seven days hence we go to Scotland till the July heats
be over. That is our resolution after all. Our address there,
probably till the end of August, is "Templand, Thornhill,
Dumfries, N. B.,"--the residence of my Mother-in-law, within a
day's drive of my Mother's. Any Letter of yours sent by the old
constant address (Cheyne Row, Chelsea) will still find me there;
but the other, for that time, will be a day or two shorter. We
all go, servant and all. I am bent on writing _something;_ but
have no faith that I shall be able. I _must_ try. There is a
thing of mine in _Fraser_ for July, of no account, about the
"sinking of the _Vengeur_" as you will see. The _French
Revolution_ printing is not to stop; two thirds of it are done;
at this present rate, it ought to finish, and the whole be ready,
within three weeks hence. A Letter will be here from you about
that time, I think: I will print no title-page for the Five
Hundred till it do come. "Published by _Fraser and_ Little"
would, I suppose, be unobjectionable, though Fraser is the most
nervous of creatures: but why put _him_ in at all, since these
Five hundred copies are wholly Little's and yours? Adieu, my
Friend. Our blessings are with you and your house. My wife
grows better with the hot weather; I, always worse.
Yours ever,
T. Carlyle
I say not a word about America or Lecturing at present; because
I mean to consider it intently in Scotland, and there to decide.
My Brother is to be at Ischl (not far from Salzburg) during
Summer: he was anxious to have me there, and I to have gone;
but--but--Adieu.
_Fraser's Shop._ Books not yet come, but known to be safe, and
expected soon. Nay, the dexterous Fraser has argued away L15 of
the duty, he says! All is right therefore. N.B. he says you are
to send the second Portion _in sheets,_ the weight will be less.
This if it be still time.--_Basta._
--T.C.