October 1833-December 1834

The Collected Letters, Volume 7


TC TO JEAN CARLYLE AITKEN; 19 January 1834; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18340119-TC-JCA-01; CL 7:68.


Craigenputtoch, 19th [? January 1834]

My dear Jean,

There is almost nothing to say this week; except that you are to pay yourself from the beginning of Rob's Pound.1 My account bears 10/9½—unless either you gave me, or I gave you, the pence in, to make even money of it? Or perhaps this is but a mere chimera of my own?

There is a little haddock of a white shelty (a great Beauty when in condition) coming down from Templand next wednesday for my Mother at Scotsbrig. The Boy will bring it to you; you can send it over to Garthwaite, and give him charges about it.

Jane rejoices to hear that the lost Letter has finally come back into your hands last Saturday! Unless Mrs Welsh (who only went off yesterday) send you some word about it, you had better blot out the “Andrew Watson,”2 and put it into the Post-office.

We got no Letters or Newspaper last week, till (by a new effort) on Sunday. Dame M'Adam and our Missus between them contrived to omit it. There was nothing of moment that suffered thereby.

If James has the old frame that my Mother's Picture (of me) stood in, and is not for putting some other piece into it, will he send it [torn] the queerest print3 ready to go [into it] here; which you shall see when you come up. When will that be? I have been talking to my Mother about the first or second week of April.

Nothing new here; nothing: for the Moors are as old as the subsidence of Noah's Flood; and we see nothing but them and Books.

Jane's best regards and wishes to you both.

Ever / My dear Sister / Your affectionate, /

T. Carlyle—