Irving [he says] was four years my senior, | seems to please every person that hears him, the facile princeps for success and reputation and indeed he is well attended every day. The among the Edinburgh students, famed mathe- sacrament is to be the first Sabbath of March, matician, famed teacher, first at Haddington, and he is visiting his people, but has not then here a flourishing man whom cross for- reached Mainhill. Your mother was very tune was beginning to nibble at. He received anxious to have the house done before he me with open arms, and was a brother to me came, or else she said she would run over the and a friend there and elsewhere afterwards - hill and hide herself. Sandy (Alexander Carsuch friend as I never had again or before in lyle, the second son) and I got to work soon this world, at heart constant till he died. after you went away, built partitions, and ceiled a good floor laid- and indeed it is very dry and comfortable at this time, and we are very snug and have no want of the necessaries of life. Our crop is as good as I expected, and our sheep and all our cattle living and doing very well. Your mother thought to have written to you; but the carrier stopped only two days at home, and she being a very slow writer could not get it done, but she will write next opportunity. I add no more but half the cheese that she was telling you about. your mother's compliments, and she sends you Say in your next how your brother is coming on, and tell us when it is done and we will send you more. Write soon after you receive this, and tell us all your news and how you are coming on. I say no more, but remain,

I am tempted to fill many pages with extracted pictures of the Kirkcaldy life as Carlyle has drawn them. But they can be read in their place, and there is much else to tell; my business is to supply what is left untold, rather than give again what has been told already.

Correspondence with his family had commenced and was regularly continued from the day when Carlyle went first to college. The letters, however, which are preserved begin with his settlement at Kirkcaldy. From this time they are constant, regular, and, from the care with which they have been kept on both sides, are to be numbered in thousands. Father, mother, brothers, sisters, all wrote in their various styles, and all received answers. They were a clannish folk" holding tight together, and Carlyle was looked up to as the flower of the whole flock. Of these letters I can give but a few here and there, but they will bring before the eyes the Mainhill farm, and all that was going on there in a sturdy, pious, and honorable Annandale peasant's household. Carlyle had spent his Christmas holidays 1816-17 at home as usual, and had returned to work.

James Carlyle to Thomas Carlyle.

Mainhill, Feb. 12, 1817. Dear Son, I embrace this opportunity of writing you a few lines with the carrier, as had nothing to say that was worth postage, having written to you largely the last time. But only I have reason to be thankful that I can still tell you that we are all in good health, blessed be God for all his mercies towards us. Your mother has got your stockings ready now, and I think there are a few pairs of very good ones. Times is very bad here for laborwork is no brisker and living is high. There have been meetings held by the Lairds and farmers to assist them in getting meal. They propose to take all the meal that can be sold in the parish to Ecclefechan, for which they shall have full price, and there they sign another paper telling how much money they will give to reduce the price. The charge is given to James Bell, Mr. Miller, and William Graham to sell it.

ers

Mr. Lawson, our priest, is doing very well, and has given us no more paraphrases; but

let

Dear son, your loving father,

JAMES CARLYLE. Thomas Carlyle to Mrs. Carlyle (Mainhill). Kirkcaldy, March 17, 1817. My dear Mother, I have been long intending to write you a line or two in order to ing nothing worth writing to communicate I you know my state and condition, but hav have put it off from time to time. There was little enjoyment for any person at Mainhill when I was there last, but I look forward to the ensuing autumn, when I hope to have the happiness of discussing matters with you as we were wont to do of old. It gives me pleas ure to hear that the bairns are at school. There are few things in this world more valu. able than knowledge, and youth is the period for acquiring it. With the exception of the religious and moral instruction which I had the happiness of receiving from my parents, and which I humbly trust will not be entirely lost upon me, there is nothing for which I feel more grateful than for the education which they have bestowed upon me. Sandy was get ting fond of reading when he went away. I hope he and Aitken* will continue their operations now that he is at home. There cannot be imagined a more honest way of employing spare hours.

My way of life in this place is much the same as formerly. The school is doing pretty well, and my health through the winter has been uniformly good. I have little intercourse with the natives here; yet there is no dryness between us. We are always happy to meet and happy to part; but their society is not very valuable to me, and my books are

John Aitken Carlyle, the third son, afterwards known as John.

less could be understood by others, he could neither properly accommodate himself to the tone of Scotch provincial draw ing-rooms, nor even to the business which he had specially to do. A man of genius can do the lowest work as well as the highest; but genius in the process of developing, combined with an irritable nervous system and a fiercely impatient temperament, was not happily occupied in teaching stupid lads the elements of Latin and arithmetic. Nor were matters mended when the town corporation, who were his masters, took upon them, as sometimes happened, to instruct or rebuke him.

Life, however, even under these hard circumstances, was not without its romance. I borrow a passage from the "Reminiscences: "

of her, she continued, for perhaps three years, a figure hanging more or less in my fancy, on the usual romantic, or latterly quite elegiac and silent terms, and to this day there is in me a good will to her, a candid and gentle pity, if needed at all. She was of the Aberdeenshire Gordons. Margaret Gordon, born, I think in New Brunswick, where her father, probably in some official post, had died young and poor; but her accent was prettily English, and her voice very fine.

An aunt (widow in Fife, childless with limited resources, but of frugal cultivated turn; a lean proud elderly dame, once a Miss Gordon herself; sang Scotch songs beautifully, and talked shrewd Aberdeenish in accent and otherwise) had adopted her and brought her hither over seas; and here, as Irving's expupil, she now, cheery though with dim outlooks, was. Irving saw her again in Glasgow one summer's touring, etc.; he himself accompanying joyfully-not joining, so I understood, in the retinue of suitors or potential The Kirkcaldy people were a pleasant, solid, suitors; rather perhaps indicating gently "No, honest kind of fellow-mortals, something of I must not." A year or so after we heard the quietly fruitful, of good old Scotch in their fair Margaret had married some rich insignifiworks and ways, more vernacular, peaceably cant Mr. Something, who afterwards got into fixed and almost genial in their mode of life, Parliament, thence out to "Nova Scotia" (or than I had been used to in the border home so) as governor, and I heard of her no more, land. Fife generally we liked. Those ancient except that lately she was still living childless little burghs and sea villages, with their poor as the "dowager lady," her Mr. Something little havens, salt-pans and weather-beaten bits having got knighted before dying. Poor Marof Cyclopean breakwaters, and rude innocent garet! I saw her recognizable to me here in machineries, are still kindly to me to think of. her London time, 1840 or so, twice; once with Kirkcaldy itself had many looms, had Baltic her maid in Piccadilly promenading - little trade, whale fishery, etc., and was a solidly altered; a second time that same year, or next, diligent and yet by no means a panting, puff- on horseback both of us, and meeting in the ing, or in any way gambling Lang Town." "gate of Hyde Park, when her eyes (but that Its flax-mill machinery, I remember, was turned was all) said to me almost touchingly, yes, yes, mainly by wind; and curious blue-painted that is you. wheels with oblique vans rose from many roofs for that end. We all, I in particular, always rather liked the people, though from the distance chiefly, chagrined and discouraged by the sad trade one had. Some hospitable human friends I found, and these were at intervals a fine little element; but in general we were but onlookers, the one real society our books and our few selves. Not even with the bright young ladies (whice was a sad feature) were we generally on speaking terms. By far the brightest and cleverest, however, an expupil of Irving's, and genealogically and other wise, being poorish and well-bred, rather an alien in Kirkcaldy, I did at last make some acquaintance with- —at Irving's first, I think, though she rarely came thither and it might easily have been more, had she and her aunt and our economics and other circumstances liked. She was of the fair-complexioned, softly elegant, softly grave, witty and comely type, and had a good deal of gracefulness, intelligence, and other talent. Irving, too, it was sometimes thought, found her very interesting, could the Miss Martin bonds have allowed, which they never would. To me, who had only known her for a few months, and who within a twelve or fifteen months saw the last

Margaret Gordon was the original, so far as there was an original, of Blumine in "Sartor Resartus." Two letters from her remain among Carlyle's papers, which show that on both sides their regard for each other had found expression. Circumstances, however, and the unpromising appearance of Carlyle's situation and tween them, and acquit the aunt of needprospects, forbade an engagement beless harshness in peremptorily putting an end to their acquaintance. Miss Gordon took leave of him as a "sister" in language of affectionate advice. A single passage may be quoted to show how the young, unknown Kirkcaldy schoolmaster appeared in the eyes of the high-born lady who had thus for a moment crossed his path.

And now, my dear friend, a long long adieu; one advice, and as a parting one consider, value it. Cultivate the milder dispositions of your heart. Subdue the more extravagant visions of the brain. In time your abilities, must be known. Among your acquaintance

they are already beheld with wonder and de- | it "better die than be a schoolmaster light. By those whose opinion will be val- for one's living" and would seek some uable, they hereafter will be appreciated. other means of supporting themselves. Genius will render you great. May virtue ren- Carlyle had passed his summer holidays der you beloved! Remove the awful distance between you and ordinary men by kind and as usual at Mainhill (1818), where he had gentle manners. Deal gently with their infe- perhaps talked over his prospects with riority, and be convinced they will respect you his family. On his return to Kirkcaldy as much and like you more. Why conceal the in September he wrote to his father exreal goodness that flows in your heart? I have plaining his situation. He had saved ventured this counsel from an anxiety for your about gol., on which, with his thrifty habfuture welfare, and I would enforce it with all its, he said that he could support himself the earnestness of the most sincere friendship. in Edinburgh till he could "fall into some Let your light shine before men, and think other way of doing." He could perhaps them not unworthy the trouble. This exercise get a few mathematical pupils, and meanwill prove its own reward. It must be a pleas: time could study for the bar. He waited ing thing to live in the affections of others. Again adieu. Pardon the freedom I have only for his father's approval to send in The letter was accomused, and when you think of me be it as of a his resignation. kind sister, to whom your happiness will panied by one of his constant presents to always yield delight, and your griefs sorrow. his mother, who was again at home, though Yours, with esteem and regard, not yet fully recovered.

M.

I give you not my address because I dare not promise to see you.

Carlyle had by this time abandoned the "ministry" as his possible future profession-not without a struggle, for both his father's and his mother's hearts had been set upon it; but the "grave, prohibitive doubts" which had risen in him of their own accord had been strengthened by Gibbon, whom he had found in Irving's library and had eagerly devoured. Never at any time had he "the least inclination for such an office, and his father, though deeply disappointed, was

too wise a man to remonstrate.* The "schoolmastering" too, after two years' experience of it, became intolerable. His disposition, at once shy and defiantly proud, had perplexed and displeased the Kirkcaldy burghers. Both he and Irving fell into unpleasant collisions with their employers, and neither of them was sufficiently docile to submit to reproof. An opposition school had been set up which drew off the pupils, and finally they both concluded that they had had enough of

"With me," he says in a private note, "it was never much in favor, though my parents silently much wished it, as I knew well. Finding I had objections, my father, with a magnanimity which I admired and admire, left me frankly to my own guidance in that matter, as did my mother, perhaps still more lovingly, though not so silently; and the theological course which could be prosecuted or kept open by appearing annually, putting down your name, but with some trifling fee, in the register, and then going your way, was, after perhaps two years of this languid form, allowed to close itself for good. I remember yet being on the street in Argyll Square, Edinburgh, probably in 1817, and come over from Kirkcaldy with some intent, the languidest possible, still to put down my name and fee. The official person, when I rung, was not at home, and my instant feeling was. Very good, then, very good; let this be Finis in the matter," and it really was.- T. C."

66

told us of your safe arrival at Kirkcaldy. Our mother has grown better every day since you

left us.

She is as steady as ever she was, has been upon haystacks three or four times, and has been at church every Sabbath since she came home, behaving always very decently. Also she has given over talking and singing, and spends some of her time consulting Ralph Erskine. She sleeps every night, and hinders no person to sleep, but can do with less than the generality of people. In fact we may conclude that she is as wise as could be expected. She has none of the hypocritical mask with which some people clothe their sentiments. One day, having met Agg Byers, she says: "Weel, Agg, lass, I've never spoken t'ye sin ye stole our coals. I'll gie ye an advice: never steal nae more."

Alexander Carlyle to Thomas Carlyle. September 18, 1818. My dear Brother, We were glad to hear of your having arrived in safety, though your prospects were not brilliant. My father is at Ecclefechan to-day at a market, but before he went he told me to mention that with regard to his advising you, he was unable to give you any advice. He thought it might be necessary to consult Leslie before you gave up, but you might do what seemed to you good. Had my advice any weight, I would advise you to try the law. You may think you have not money enough to try that, but with what assistance we could make, and your own industry, I think there would be no fear but you would succeed. The box which contained my mother's bonnet came a day or two ago. She is very well pleased with it, though my father thought it too gaudy; but she purposes writing to you herself.

The end was, that, when December

er

66

to be benefited by them. In the mean time, I shall endeavor to be a good girl, to be kind and obedient to my parents, and obliging to my brothers and sisters. You will write me a long letter when the carrier comes back.

The mother was unwearied in her affectionate solicitude solicitude for the eternal as well as temporal interests of her darling child.

Mrs. Carlyle to Thomas Carlyle.

Dear Son,

Mainhill, January 3, 1819.

I received yours in due time, and was glad to hear you were well. I hope you will be healthier, moving about in the city, than in your former way. Health is a valuable

privilege; try to improve it, then. The time is short. Another year has commenced. Time is on the wing, and flies swiftly. Seek God with all your heart; and oh, my dear son, cease not to pray for his counsel in all your ways. Fear not the world; you will be provided for as he sees meet for you.

dear to, I beg you do not neglect reading a As a sincere friend, whom you are always part of your Bible daily, and may the Lord

came, Carlyle amd Irving "kicked the schoolmaster functions over," removed to Edinburgh, and were adrift on the world. Irving had little to fear: he had money, friends, reputation; he had a profession, and was waiting only for “a call" to enter on his full privileges. Carlyle was far more unfavorably situated. He was poor, unpopular, comparatively unknown, or, if known, known only to be feared and even shunned. In Edinburgh "from my fellow-creatures," he says, "little or nothing but vinegar was my reception when we happened to meet or pass near each oth- my own blame mainly, so proud, shy; poor, at once so insignificant-looking, and so grim and sorrowful. That in Sartor' of the worm trodden on and proving a torpedo is not wholly a fable, but did actually befall once or twice, as I still with a kind of small, not ungenial malice can remember." He had, however, as was said, nearly a hundred pounds, which he had saved out of his earnings; he had a consciousness of integrity worth more than gold to him. He had thrifty, self-open your eyes to see wondrous things out of his law! But it is now two o'clock in the denying habits which made him content morning, and a bad pen, bad ink, and I as bad with the barest necessaries, and he reso- at writing. I will drop it, and add no more, lutely faced his position. His family, but remain though silently disapproving the step which he had taken, and necessarily anxious about him, rendered what help they could. Once more the Ecclefechan carrier brought up the weekly or monthly supplies of oatmeal, cakes, butter, and, when needed, under-garments, returning with the dirty linen for the mother to wash and mend, and occasional presents which were never forgotten; while Carlyle, after a thought of civil engineering, for which his mathematical training gave him a passing inclination, sate down seriously, if not very assiduously, to study law. Letters to and from Ecclefechan were constant, the carrier acting as postman. Selections from them bring the scene and characters before the reader's

I take the opportunity of sending you this scrawl. I got the hat you sent with Sandy [brother Alexander], and it fits very well. It was far too good; a worse would have done very well. Boys and I are employed this winter in waiting on the cattle, and are going on very well at present. I generally write a copy every night, and read a little in the "Cottagers of Glenburnie," or some such like ; and it shall be my earnest desire never to imitate the abominable slutteries of Mrs. Maclarly. The remarks of the author, Mrs. Hamilton, often bring your neat ways in my mind, and I hope

Your loving mother,
PEGGIE CARLYLE.

Carlyle had written a sermon on the
salutary effects of "affliction," as his first
exercise in the Divinity School. He was
beginning now, in addition to the problem
of living which he had to solve, to learn
what affliction meant. He was attacked
with dyspepsia, which never wholly left
him, and in these early years soon as-
sumed its most torturing form like “a rat
gnawing at the pit of his stomach;
natural irritability found escape in expres-
sions which showed that he was already
attaining a mastery of language.
noises of Edinburgh drove him wild and
opened the sluices of his denunciatory
eloquence.

" his

The

after he was settled in his lodgings]. An hour I find living here very high [he wrote soon ago I paid my week's bill, which, though 155. 2d., was the smallest of the three I have yet discharged. This is an unreasonable sum when I consider the slender accommodation and the paltry, ill-cooked morsel which is my daily pittance. There is also a schoolmaster right overhead, whose noisy brats give me at times no small annoyance. On a given night of the week he also assembles a select number of vocal performers, whose music, as they charitably name it, is now and then so clamor ous that I almost wished the throats of these sweet singers full of molten lead, or any other substance that would stop their braying.