October 1831-September 1833

The Collected Letters, Volume 6


TC TO MARGARET A. CARLYLE; 12 June 1832; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18320612-TC-MAC-01; CL 6:169-170.


Craigenputtoch, Tuesday, 12th June, 1832.

My Dear Mother,

I write you before my promise, having a little message to send Alick: namely, that John's Money for him was lying at the Bank and is here. Poor Jack! It was very cheering (far beyond the value) to see “the colour of his money,” after such weltering as he has had. There was, of course, no news there from him; only from his Lady's Banker. We shall hope to hear some time this month, and you shall hear directly after.— We had a fiddling sort of Letter from the Advocate: I one from the Fraser's Magazine people, who find my Paper on Johnson reckoned by some (unhappily very simple persons) to be “singularly excellent.” So be it.— I have not put pen to paper on Goethe; but will this day.

You would have a sorrowful time of it yesterday, with the rain which did me no ill. I got none but spits till I was in Dumfries; set off again at four o'clock in the very middle of it, with umbrella hoisted; and arrived home not at all wetted thro' the great coat, or anywise harmed. The “riding mare” is about the gentlest Beast I ever dealt with; needs no driving at all; very able, very willing; “as handy as a fiddle.” She will be a great benefit here; and you need not give yourself the smallest apprehension about her. She is to be shod tonight, and we will have a ride soon.— Jane had been off sleep again in my absence, but got on again when I returned; and is as well as when you saw her now. She was very glad of the steep-leather1 and etceteras; is out riding, or she would send you her love in words, as in thought and feeling it is always yours.— The Newspaper is not sent till today; directed to Jane. Tell her to write me a line how you are. I hope and pray you may be better: O my dear Mother, could good wishes avail, how soon were you well! The knowledge and assurance that they exist is worth something. Consider us all, and at all times, as your roof and shelter, that thro' God's grace will (as we well ought) stand between you and whatever sorrow we can turn away from you. Be still our head and centre: we are not separated, while we have you.— I am a little dullish to take my smoke alone today; but hard work keeps everything right: besides, you will be back ere long. I will take you up, and take you down—per CLATCH.2

I never saw Jenny Austin3 till exactly the point where she was turning off thro' the field at home. She was barefoot, high-kilted, declared she was not wetted or injured.— And now, dear Mother, I am away for this one. God ever keep you all!

T. Carlyle.