October 1831-September 1833

The Collected Letters, Volume 6


JWC TO MARGARET A. CARLYLE; 18 September 1832; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18320918-JWC-MAC-01; CL 6:230-231.


[18? September 1832]

Tell James of Scotsbrig that I have not forgotten the various slights he put upon me the day I was in Dumfries. first leaving the Inn without the smallest attempt at seeing me, secondly refusing my eloquent entreaties to take me home and lastly walking off without a civil good day— Nevertheless I will try to forgive him if he come up from the Fair. I am not fond of fairs or I believe the prospect of seeing a fine show of cro[c]kery and indulging my taste in the purchase of at least a twopenny bowl would take me also to Dumfries on Wednesday.

Behold the produce of my dairy paid “into my hand a clinking,” but which for greater convenience is here converted into a real banknote. As I have never got good of my own salt-butter, I thought it best this year to sell what I could, and buy such as might be depended on. The begging system being not to my mind.— I send this money per advance to show the rectitude of my intentions and will remit the surplus when I have concluded my sales. Will you be so kind then as put me up ‘with your own hand’ some forty pounds in three different pigs1—for reasons best known to myself. If you have pigs—there are three here I can send in return—if not buy them for me. There never was butter so bepraised and deservedly so as the last, the only redeeming feature of our London breakfasts. The next it is probable will be eaten in part at Edinr—Carlyle is going mad for speech—and proposes making a descent on the capital about the beginning of winter and filling it with a whole deluge of articulate sound. I mean to look about me for a parrot while there, that he may not be so ill off in time coming— And now good night—and God keep you all— My affectionate regards are with the whole household now and always—

Yours most sincerely /

Jane W Carlyle

Dear Mother, I am now busy as may be, with the pen; and hope to be done certainly in some three weeks, and will then rush off to see you; and the wheels of the Clatch will again be heard at Scotsbrig. I have had a long weary spell, but it has not hurt me, and then I shall have a rest!— Here is a thin letter from Jack; however, he is well; I wrote him one four times as long, which he may about this time be reading.— Take care of yourself, my dear Mother; that I may find you well. My Blessing with you all! God keep you all!——— Ever your affectionate Son,

T. Carlyle—

Tuesday Night (the Task being done).