The Somerset reporter., 1890-05-08

phant, u woman. should not have discov.
cred IN this burst OF jealousy an indica-
ton Of love; and still more incompre-
hensihle. ia the light of facts now known
to every one, that she should speak OF
lrving'> meeting with Miss Welsh ON this
occasion As "a most characteristic mo
mentary appearance which he makes in
the memory of his pupil IL was, on the
contrary, but the beginning Of an inter
course which lasted for years, and dur
ing which not only did Irving become
deeply enamurcd of hi former pupil, but
she, rs she frankly confessed To Carlyle
seven years afterward, lear ned to love
him "passionately" in return. He fire.
quently visited her at Haddington, and,
as everything goes to show, his visits
were those of an accepted sutton. 1t was
just after the meeting In 1918 that Car
lyle frs, heard of her from him, some
casual mention. the loving and reyeren-
tial tone OF which had struck me. OF the
father he spoke always as one of the
wisest truest and most dignified OF men,
of her as paragon Of gifted young girls,
far enough -om me both, and objects of
distant reverence and unattainable long
ing at that time.'
The next year, 1919, DIR. Welsh died,
leaving to his daughter all his little prop
erty, which she shortly afterward, with
characteristic generosity, madb over to
her mother, and the household went on
as before. Irving was busy preaching at
Glasgow, as assistant to the famous DIR.
Chalmers; but he came to Edinburgh
whenever he had a holiday, and from
there walked out to Haddington. On
one of these excursions, in June, 1921, he
took Carlyle with him to introduce him
as fit person TO superintend Miss Welsh
literary studies, being himself either too
much occupied or else not fully compe-
tent. Carlyle has left behind him this
account Of the expedition:
THE visit lasted three or four days,
and included Gilbert Burns and other
figures, besides the one fair figure most
of all important to me. We were often
in her mothers house; sat talking with
the two for hours almost every evening,
The beautiful, bright and earnest young
lady was intent on literature as the high
est aim in life. and felt imprisoned in the
dull clement which yielded her no COM
merce in that kind, and would not even
yield her books to read obtained per-
mission to send her at least books from
Edinburgh. Book parcels virtually in
cluded bits of writing to and from, and
thus an acquaintance was begun which
had hardly any interruption and no break
at all while life lasted. She was often in
Edinburgh on visit with her mother to
Uncle Robert in Northumberland
street, to old Mrs. Bradfute, in Georges
square, and had leave to call on these
occasions, which zealously enough, If
not too zealously sometimes, in my awk-
ward way took advantage of. | was not
her declared lover, nor could she admit
me rs such in my waste and uncertain
posture of affairs and prospects; but we
were becoming thoroughly acquainted
with each other, and her tacit, hidden,
but to me visible friendship for me. was
the happy island in my otherwise dreary,
vacant and forlorn existence in those
years.
V.
Carlyle evidently had as yet got no idea
of the state of affairs between Irving
and Miss Welsh, being, like all incipient
lovers, thoroughly engrossed with hi
own feelings. The truth WAS that Irving
was then negotiating, with bright hopes
Of success, for release from his engage
ment to Miss Martin, which in both hi
own and Miss Welsh's view of duty con
stituted bar to their marriage. But
when, in the following February, he re
ceived call to London, and it became
necessary to have the matter settled
after struggle which, to use his owl
words, had almost ''made his faith and
principles to totter," he resigned himself
to his fate and babe farewell to Mis-
Welsh in the following letter:
my WELL BELOVED FRIEND AND PU.
PIL-When | think of you my mind il
overspread with the most affectionat,
and tender regard, which neither know
to name or to describe. One thing
know-it would long ago have taken tb'
form of the most devoted attachment but
for an intervening circumstance, and
showed itself and pleaded itself befor,
your heart by thousand actions from
which ! must now restrain myself
Heaven grant me its grace to restrain
myself; and, forgetting my own enjoy
ments, may be enabled to combine int,
your single self all that duty and plight
ed faith leave ut my disposal. When J
am in your company my whole soul
would rush to serve you, and my tongu,
trembles to speak my hearts fullness-
But am enabled to forbear, and have t.
find other avenues than the natural ones
for the overlooking of an affection which
would hardly have been able to confin,
itself within the avenues of nature il
they had all been opened. But l feel with.
in me the power to prevail, and at once
to satisfy duty to another and affection
toyou. stand truly upon ground which
seems to shake and give way beneath Inc,
but my help is in heaven. Bear with
thus much. my early charge and my
present friend, from one who loves t.
help and defend you, who would rather
die than wrong you or see you wronged
Say that shall speak no more Of the
fearful struggle that am undergoing
and shall be silent. If you allow me to
speak, then shall reveal to you the feat
ures of virtuous contention, to bt
crowned, l trust, with Christian tri
To- ri tl,ut l. I,
weak nature of mine can have two affec
tons, both Of so intense kind, and yet
feel it can. 1t shall feed the one with
faith and duty and chaste Affection; the
other with paternal and friendly love. no
less pure, no less assiduous, no less con
slant in return, seeking nothing but per
mission and indulgence.
II was little comforted by Rousseau's
letters, though holding out a most ad.
mirable moral; but much comforted and
confirmed by the few words which your
noble heart dictated the moment before
left you. Oh. persevere, my admira
BILE pupil, in the noble admrations you
have taken up. Let affectionateness and
manly firmness be the qualities to which
you yield your love, and your life shall
be honorable. Advance your admiration
somewhat higher, and it shall lie ever
lastingly happy. Oh, do not forbid me
from rising in my communications with
ono so capable of the loftiest concep-
tions. Forbid me not to draw you up
ward to the love and study Of your Gre
ator, which is the beginning OF wisdom