rushed into my heart, and driven the
devil out, as clean as ever so much holy water and priestly exorcism
could have done! I have a photograph of Haddington church tower, and my
father's tombstone in it--of every place I ever lived at as a
home--photographs of old lovers! old friends, old servants, old dogs! In
a day or two, you, dear, will be framed and hung up among the 'friends.'
And that bright, kind, indomitable face of yours will not be the least
efficacious face there for exorcising my devil, when I have him! Thank
you a thousand times for keeping your word! Of course you would--that is
just the beauty of you, that you never deceive nor disappoint.

Oh my dear! my dear! how awfully tired I was with the journey home, and
yet I had taken two days to it, sleeping--that is, attempting to
sleep--at York. What a pity it is that Scotland is so far off! all the
good one has gained there gets shaken off one in the terrific journey
home again, and then the different atmosphere is so trying to one fresh
from the pure air of Fife--so exhausting and depressing. If it hadn't
been that I had a deal of housemaiding to execute during the week I was
here before Mr. C. returned, I must have given occasion for newspaper
paragraphs under the head of 'Melancholy Suicide.' But dusting books,
making chair covers, and 'all that sort of thing,' leads one on
insensibly to live--till the crisis gets safely passed.

My dear! I haven't time nor inclination for much letter-writing--nor
have you, I should suppose, but do let us exchange letters now and then.
A friendship which has lived on air for so many years together is worth
the trouble of giving it a little human sustenance.

Give my kind regards to your husband--I like him--and believe me,

Your ever affectionate,

JANE WELSH CARLYLE.

FOOTNOTES:

[119] Clever as she was, she surely made a mistake here--unless she did
it on purpose, which is quite possible. "Cadger" is of course only
"beggar," and the proverb is the Scotch equivalent of ours about the
"beggar on horseback," pretty frequently illustrated now-a-days.

[120] The Deerbrook breakfasts refer to Miss Martineau's poor novel. (T.
C.)

[121] Turned. (T. C.)

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY (1800-1859)

There are very few examples in biography where the
publication of letters has had a happier effect on the
general idea of the writer than in Macaulay's case. It is
not here a question of historica