he stood here awhile in the grass, and then he kneeled
down and stayed on his knees at the grave; then he bent over and I saw
him kiss the ground--ay, he kissed it again and again, and he kept
kneeling, and it was a long time before he rose and tottered out of the
cathedral, and wandered through the graveyard to the gate, where his
niece was waiting for him." This is the epitaph composed by Carlyle, and
engraved on the tombstone of Dr John Welsh in the chancel of Haddington
Church:--

'HERE LIKEWISE NOW RESTS JANE WELSH CARLYLE, SPOUSE OF THOMAS
CARLYLE, CHELSEA, LONDON. SHE WAS BORN AT HADDINGTON, 14TH JULY
1801, ONLY DAUGHTER OF THE ABOVE JOHN WELSH, AND OF GRACE
WELSH, CAPELGILL, DUMFRIESSHIRE, HIS WIFE. IN HER BRIGHT
EXISTENCE SHE HAD MORE SORROWS THAN ARE COMMON; BUT ALSO A SOFT
INVINCIBILITY, A CLEARNESS OF DISCERNMENT, AND A NOBLE LOYALTY
OF HEART WHICH ARE RARE. FOR FORTY YEARS SHE WAS THE TRUE AND
EVER-LOVING HELPMATE OF HER HUSBAND, AND, BY ACT AND WORD,
UNWEARIEDLY FORWARDED HIM AS NONE ELSE COULD, IN ALL OF WORTHY
THAT HE DID OR ATTEMPTED. SHE DIED AT LONDON, 21ST APRIL 1866,
SUDDENLY SNATCHED AWAY FROM HIM, AND THE LIGHT OF HIS LIFE AS
IF GONE OUT.'

FOOTNOTES:

[31] Froude's 'Life in London,' vol. ii. p. 295.

[32] Masson's 'Carlyle Personally and in his Writings,' pp. 27-9.

[33] Alexander Smith's 'Sketches and Criticisms,' pp. 101-8.

[34] Froude's 'Life in London,' vol. ii. p. 312.

[35] Froude's 'Life in London,' vol. ii. p. 314.

[36] Larkin's 'Carlyle and the Open Secret of his Life,' pp. 334-5.

[37] 'Life of Jane Welsh Carlyle,' pp. 191-2.

[38] After reading the above estimate in the proof sheets, Professor
Masson writes to me as follows:--

'May I hint that, in the passage about his character and
domestic relations, you seem hardly to do justice to the depths
of real kindness and tenderness in him, and the actual
_couthiness_ of his manner and fireside conversation in his
most genial hours? He was delightful and loveable at such
hours, with a fund of the raciest Scottish humour.'

This is a side of Carlyle's nature which would naturally be hidden from
the general reader, and from Mr Froude. It is easy to imagine how
Carlyle's genial humour, frozen at its source in the company of the
solemnly pessimistic Froude, should be thawed by the presence of 'a
brither Scot.'

CHAPTER VII

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