Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

!—AMELY BOLTE, 1843-49 295drawing-room-door, where there is no bell-wire butonly a brass-headed nail to suspend it from !*Don'tyou admire it there ? ' I asked my husband after itwas hung up.*Oh yes,' said he, ' certainly !—as asplendid solecism ! as one admires a beautiful idiot !But it strikes me that considering your demerits,my dear, I am here writing you an absurdly longletter ! The fact is that I have not, I find, got quiterid of what somebody described as ' that damned thingcalled the mUk of human kindness -—and I bethink methat on Christmas day you will be feeling sad moreor less. When one is far from one's own land andown friends, those anniversaries, however they maybe cheered for one by present kindness, always bringthe past and distant strangely and cruelly near andmake one long as one dares not long every day to beas one has been ! A word of encouragement andsympathy from a fellow-sufferer under these anniversaryfeelingsmay be some little comfort to you, atall rates it is such comfort as I have to give, and if Ihad any better you should have it with a blessingand so this is why I write just to-day; because Imean that you should read my letter on Christmas.Give my kindest regards to Mr. and Mrs. Bullerand a kiss to Theresa, who I hope is striding thro'all departments of human knowledge in seven-leaguedhoots and carrying allherthe cardinal virtues along withI send you a little thing for good luck to your new'