Letters and Memorials of Jane Welsh Carlyle, Vol. 1 of 2
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Stand: | 2015-08-04 03:50:33 |
Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt from Letters and Memorials of Jane Welsh Carlyle, Vol. 1 of 2: Prepared for Publication ´Tuesday, June 10, 1834,´ it appears, was the date of our alighting, amid heaped furniture, in this house, where we were to continue for life. I well remember bits of the drive from Ampton Street; what damp-clouded kind of sky it was; how, in crossing Belgrave Square, Chico, her little canary-bird, whom she had brought from Craigenputtock in her lap, burst out into singing, which we all (´Bessy Barnet,´ our romantic maid, sat with us in the old hackneycoach) strove to accept as a promising omen. The business of sorting and settling, with two or three good carpenters, &c., already on the ground, was at once gone into, with boundless alacrity, and (under such management as hers) went on at a mighty rate; even the three or four days of quasi camp life, or gypsy life, had a kind of gay charm to us; and hour by hour we saw the confusion abating, growing into victorious order. Leigh Hunt was continually sending us notes; most probably would in person step across before bedtime, and give us an hour of the prettiest melodious discourse. In about a week (it seems to me) all was swept and garnished, fairly habitable; and continued incessantly to get itself polished, civilised, and beautified to a degree that surprised one. I have elsewhere alluded to all that, and to my little Jeannie´s conduct of it: heroic, lovely, pathetic, mournfully beautiful, as in the light of eternity, that little scene of time now looks to me. From birth upwards she had lived in opulence; and now, for my sake, had become poor - so nobly poor. Truly, her pretty little brag (in this letter) was well founded. No such houses, for beautiful thrift, quiet, spontaneous, nay, as it were, unconscious - minimum of money reconciled to human comfort and human dignity - have I anywhere looked upon where I have been. From the first, or nearly so, I had resolved upon the ´French Revolution,´ and was reading, studying, ransacking the Museum (to little purpose) with all my might. Country health was still about me; heart and strength still fearless of any toil. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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