and we had now more than ever a series of sharp fencing bouts,
night after night, which could decide nothing for either of us, except
our radical incompatibility in respect of World Theory, and the
incurable divergence of our opinions on the most important matters. "You
are so dreadfully in earnest!" said he to me once or oftener. Besides, I
own now I was deficient in reverence to him, and had not then, nor,
alas! have ever acquired, in my solitary and mostly silent existence,
the art of gently saying strong things, or of insinuating my dissent,
instead of uttering it right out at the risk of offence or otherwise.'
Then he adds: 'These "stormy sittings," as Mrs Jeffrey laughingly called
them, did not improve our relation to one another. But these were the
last we had of that nature. In other respects Edinburgh had been barren;
effulgences of "Edinburgh Society," big dinners, parties, we in due
measure had; but nothing there was very interesting either to _Her_ or
to me, and all of it passed away as an obliging pageant merely. Well do
I remember our return to Craigenputtock, after nightfall, amid the
clammy yellow leaves and desolate rains with the clink of Alick's stithy
alone audible of human.'[9]

It was during his first two years' residence at Craigenputtock that
Carlyle wrote his famous essay on Burns; but his principal work was upon
German literature, especially upon Goethe. His magazine writings being
his only means of support, and as he devoted much time to them, it is
not surprising that financial matters worried him. About this time
Jeffrey, to whom doubtless he confided his trouble, generously offered
to confer upon him an annuity of L100, which Carlyle declined to accept.
Jeffrey repeated the offer on two subsequent occasions, with a like
result. Carlyle in his _Reminiscences_ says that he could not doubt but
Jeffrey had intended an act of real generosity; and yet Carlyle penned
the ungracious remark, that 'perhaps there was something in the manner
of it that savoured of consciousness and of screwing one's self up to
the point; less of god-like pity for a fine fellow and his struggles,
than of human determination to do a fine action of one's own, which
might add to the promptitude of my refusal.' It is not surprising,
therefore, to find Carlyle suspecting that Jeffrey's feelings were
cooling towards him. Jeffrey had powers of penetration as well as the
friend whom he was anxious to assist.

By the month of