candlestick

1850


The Collected Letters, Volume 25


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TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 2 September 1850; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18500902-TC-JWC-01; CL 25: 186-187


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE

Scotsbrig, 2 Septr, 1850—

“Nothink for Craigenputtoch today”! 1 I am going on well here, and sleep what ought to be called preeminently: but I ate yesterday a big plate of country broth; and tho' I walked with Jamie afterwards to the “Spout of Mein” (pretty waterfall up among the moors), and even slept pretty well all night, I have felt waufish all day, and about 2 o'clock I even went so far as to tumble myself into bed and fall sound asleep by daylight, and so lie for two hours till my time was all done! I have dined since (that is, eaten two eggs with a slice and a half of bread, whh is my common dinner), and now in one “quarter of an hour exact” the post-time will be here. I send my salutations and inquiries to poor Goody; and hope perhaps I may hear a good word from her tomorrow. Here comes Emerson's Letter too. An unsatisfactory Letter; promising me no result at all from my sore labours, and singing plainly a mild “blessed (not accursed) are they that are at ease in Zion.”2 Of which I do not believe a syllable. Chapman's money account of the same Pamphlet departt I find also to be unsatisfactory,—near £50 charged me (about a third of my whole wages) for writing too much;—a shabby greedy kind of account otherwise too: about which I will not bother myself farther at this time, nor much at any time, but snap my fingers in the face of him and it and the world generally I hope. “Damn them, keep them poor!” Really it is not so bad a prayer, and one ought to know the good there is in it.

Jack is come during my sleep; proposes to carry this away with him. His third patient now promises to recover. Poor creatures! The funeral on Saturday lasted above six hours, and was painfully impressive to me. Old Kirkyard of Hoddam, a stranger I among my own people,3 and the four or five I did know grown all like what their fathers or grandfathers used to be! Much sorrow and suffering lies festering in all corners if one seek into it.— — Good be with thee dear Goody. Take care of thy little self, and possess thy soul in peace,—with as much sleep as possible! God bless thee.—

T. Carlyle