A Reminiscence of Carlyle

THE CONTRIBUTORS’ CLUB.

MY first parish was in Scotland, in the town of Langholm, Dumfriesshire, about twelve miles from the straggling village of Ecclefechan, where Thomas Carlyle first saw the light about a hundred years ago, and where he now sleeps among his kinsfolk. Lying between Langholm and Ecclefechan is the hamlet of Waterbeck, where one of Carlyle’s brothers resided. Waterbeck, which is about eight miles from Langholm and four from Ecclefechan, was the southwestern boundary of my parish. I had there a handful of church members, who came tripping over the hill on Sunday mornings to church, beguiling the way with song. The boys and girls of the little band walked barefoot, washing their feet at a “burn” and putting on their shoes just before they entered “ the muckle toon of the Langholm,” as our modest border town was called.

I have a dim recollection of seeing, when visiting the Waterbeck portion of my flock, a tall, stoop-shouldered, loosejointed, ungainly man, with strong, rugged features, who walked leisurely along the single street of the village, looking at the ground as if lost in thought, apparently quite unconscious of the curious faces that peeped out at the slightly opened doors, or looked slyly at him through the windows. Years afterward, when I saw the portrait of Thomas Carlyle I recognized in it the likeness of that shabbylooking old farmer whom I had seen in the village of Waterbeck. He was doubtless paying a visit to his brother, who was the big man of the place, having developed in that obscure hamlet an enormous business, which was the envy of the merchants of the city of Carlisle. A considerable group of trained workers, such as watchmakers, tailors, and shoemakers, were gathered together, and that country establishment controlled the trade within a radius of twenty miles. I have often thought that the genius which could create such a business in circumstances so unfavorable, and surmount difficulties seemingly insuperable, was in no way inferior to that which won for the best known member of the family renown in the field of literature.

For over eight years I lived in the midst of the surroundings of Carlyle’s early life, and met many persons who had been his lifelong friends. From one of his nephews, who had for a time acted as his amanuensis, I got considerable help in the understanding of Sartor Resartus ; he supplying his uncle’s explanation of some of the difficult passages. Another nephew, a prominent doctor in Langholm, was one of my most intimate friends.

Shortly after coming to the United States in 1874, I had charge of a church in northern Illinois, a large number of whose members were from Dumfriesshire, Scotland. One of my deacons had been a schoolmate of Carlyle, and while in his criticisms he often unwittingly threw not a little side-light upon Carlyle’s character, he had not the slightest appreciation of his greatness. I remember giving him Carlyle’s Reminiscences to read. He had personal knowledge of many of the events recorded, and the style of his comment was, “Ah, Tam, Tam, that is just like you; ye were aye sair afflicted with the big head, aye bragging about yourself and a’ belanging to you.” “ A cantankerous loon ” was the description he gave of him as a boy. “ None of us liked him ; he was aye saying bitting, jibbing things.” I managed one day to worm out of my old friend a confession that may have held in it the secret of much of his dislike for Carlyle. The two boys had fought, and Tam Carlyle had given him a sound thrashing.

It was my fortune, some time afterward, to come into intimate relation with the daughter of Carlyle’s favorite sister Janet. It will be news to many readers that this sister, the youngest member of the Carlyle family, had made her home in Canada for fifty years. The Reverend G. M. Franklin, rector of Ripley, Ontario, her son-in-law, in a letter written several months ago, conveys the following information: “Mrs. Robert Hanning, the ‘ Janet Carlyle ’ of Froude’s Reminiscences, is keeping in excellent health for a lady who has passed her eightythird birthday. She is the last of the Carlyles. She passes most of her time in her own room, re-reading her brother’s favorite works, certain religious authors, and her Bible.” Since the above was written Mrs. Hanning has died. The letters which her brother wrote to her — and which cover the entire period of his literary activity — will now be published, and will form a valuable addition to the already large stock of Carlyliana. It is said that they will present “ the Sage of Chelsea ” in a tender and amiable light. His affection for his mother and for his “small Jenny ” was the one saving influence in his life.

An American pilgrim, on his way to Craigenputtock, overtook a countryman, of whom he inquired about the Carlyles. “ Oh, ay, I ken the Carlyles. Tam is a writer of books, but we do not think much of him in these parts. Jeems is the best of the family; he sends the fattest pigs to Dumfries market.”

A native of Ecclefechan once remarked to a visitor, “ Don’t go to Ecclefechan expecting to find worshipers of Carlyle. You will fine! that other members of the family are held in far higher esteem.” There is a story which shows that some of the other members of the family were far from regarding the author of Sartor Resartus as the greatest of the sons of the house. The story runs thus : A gentleman, on being introduced to James Carlyle, the youngest brother of the author, ventured to remark, You ’ll be proud of your great brother ! ” But he had mistaken his man. James rejoined in the broadest of broad Annandale, “ Mee prood o’ him ! I think he should be prood o’ mee.”