The Collected Letters, Volume 25


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 22 September 1850; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18500922-TC-JWC-01; CL 25: 227


Dumfries, Sunday 22 Septr 1850—

Dearest,—You must be satisfied with the minimum of writing today; my own state and that of all my implements being of the most unfavourable kind. Except to you (and to Jemmy to bring me home tomorrow) I wd write to no creature this day!— — I am not ill, however; one word is due to poor Goody, to indicate so much.— Confounded steel pen, that &c &c!— Oh, why do I ever travel, why am I obliged to travel! Among her Majesty's subjects is probably found no one who gets himself so thoroughly saddened and made miserable by the operation. Yesternight I slept badly, night before do; I am maddened too by being kept incessantly talking; last night I hurt my watch some way, and it is stopt; the weather has fallen quite wet; and my tailor clothes threat[en]ing1 to go awry:—in short, here is a distempered human Soul, that has slept ill, and has been terribly dadded about of late! A phenomenon probably not quite unfamiliar to your observation.— However, I am to get to Scotsbrig tomorrow (Annan at 20 minutes past 2 by rail, and there Jamie meets me). Perhaps there will be a word from you awaiting me at Scotsbrig? I have not yet decided about Cumberland: the wet weather dashes everything. I have decided about Iona, that I won't; Hope's Letter came just before my quitting Scotsg; a black prospect indeed,—but independently of that, I wouldn't. In fact it strikes me the sooner I am safe in Chelsea again, it will be the better for me! But here one can decide or even deliberate upon nothing.

Do you proceed with your own bits of travels, Dear, as if I were not stirring from Scotsbrig for an unlimited period;—week on weeks yet of such a life wd have been so advantageous to me: but failing the possibility of that, may not the solitude of my own house be the next best?— Tell your Maid when you go that perhaps she may get a Note from me, and a sight of me some evening before you come back! And write, pray, by return of Post: so that I have it on Wednesday. And pity me, and pray for me, and be patient with me;—and so I quit this brush pen, almost a worse than the steel was. God bless you.

T. C