be gathered and intelligibly recorded." Yet, like most other historians, he makes use of history to illustrate his peculiar doctrines, ethical, religious, and political. Not that he is, like Macaulay, continually building up arguments in support of his views. He does not argue, he declaims. He sets up certain men, Oliver Cromwell and the two Friedrichs, as shining examples of Duty, Veracity, and Justice, and upon every colourable opportunity extols them for their exercise of these, his favourite virtues. He is drawn to the Great Rebellion, because it affords "the last glimpse of the Godlike vanishing from this England; conviction and veracity giving place to hollow cant and formulism." He loves and praises old Friedrich in spite of his ungovernable temper, because "he went about suppressing platitudes, ripping off futilities, turning deceptions inside out;" because "the realm of Disorder, which is Unveracity, Unreality, what we call Chaos, has no fiercer enemy." He writes the history of young Friedrich, although "to the last a questionable hero," because he was an able ruler, and "had nothing whatever of the Hypocrite or Phantasm." In every case he takes for granted the excellence of his favourite virtues; more than that, he tacitly assumes and maintains that they atone for every other immorality. His excuses of old Friedrich's severities on the score of justice, have called out loud expressions of indignation from the reviewers of his History.

Farther, he has not escaped the imputation of colouring characters and garbling facts under the bias of his narrow standard of morality. In the opinion of a distinguished French critic, he has misconceived and distorted the history of the French Revolution from a habitual effort to vilify whoever has a different theory of life from himself.

For such as are not repelled by his many eccentricities and arrogant judgments, Carlyle's histories possess an intense charm. Without recurring to the elements of power in his style, we here glance briefly at his use of the opportunities peculiar to narrative.

The interest of his narrative is very largely personal. Scenery and military movements he describes with the most graphic power; but he is constantly at the right hand of individuals rejoicing in their strength as the prime movers of great transactions. He records public transactions, but he keeps his heroes in the foreground or stays with them in the background as the centres of power. In our small quotations to show his mode of explaining events, this appears incidentally; but no illustration could bring out fully what is so pervading a character of all his histories. He gives the prominence to individuals on principle: assigning to great men,' heroes," a prodigious influence on the affairs of the world, he carries this so far as to think their sayings and

doings alone worthy of permanent record. Tittle- tattle about inferior personages, Acts of Parliament, and suchlike, he makes over to Dryasdust; and certainly his intensely personal method has the advantage in point of sensational interest. His exaltation of heroes, if not the most accurate way of representing human transactions, is doubtless the most artistic: every drama requires a central figure.

With his strong sense of dramatic effect Carlyle's plot would be almost as absorbing as a sensational novel, were we not generally aware beforehand from other sources what is to be the upshot. Judge by reading, for example, his account of the Crown-Prince's attempted flight from the cruelties of old Friedrich. Note also, generally, his art of introducing a name with some such phrase as "Mark this man well; we shall perhaps hear of him again."

The interest in the progress of mankind, so notable in Macaulay, is greatly wanting in Carlyle. There could hardly be a greater contrast than between the glowing optimist and the despairing prophet; between the hopeful opening of the History of England' and the doleful opening of the 'Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell.' In Carlyle's histories, the absorbing interest of succession, of gradual development, is not wanting; but it is the interest of plot, of suspended expectation, not the cheering interest of increase in human wellbeing. To the patriotic Prussian, indeed, his 'History of Friedrich' would be exhilarating, as showing the gradual advance of the House of Brandenburg: and even the philanthropist might rejoice to see the people prospering under the rule of Friedrich. But little encouragement to jubilation of any kind is given by the sardonic historian. His eye is rather on the Phantasms that remain, than on the Phantasms that have been trodden under foot.

Exposition.

From Carlyle the student will learn no delicate arts of exposition. In considering the intellectual qualities of his style, simplicity and clearness, we saw what he does to make himself readily and distinctly intelligible. With his immense command of words he is able to repeat his doctrines in great variety of forms. He is most profuse in similitudes. The two great drawbacks to his powers of exposition are, (1) that he deliberately prefers imperfect hints and figurative sayings to complete and plain expression; and (2) that his examples are not typical cases, but selected for stage effect.

His character-drawing is one of his chief distinctions. It is elaborately studied, and in many points the execution is admirable. His sketch of the outward man seldom fails to be felicitous; not groping about confusedly i hinor details of feature or

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of figure, but dashing off the general likeness with bold compre hensive strokes.-See his description of George's two mistresses (p. 153), and Mentzel (p. 150). His description of Leibnitz is also good as regards the externals, though perhaps it would bear filling out in other respects: "Sage Leibnitz, a rather weak, but hugely ingenious old gentleman, with bright eyes and long nose, with vast black peruke and bandy legs." These are but slender specimens of his art, probably far from being the best that could be produced; but the reader will have no difficulty in finding others; he describes every person that crosses his pages.

As a rule, he is satisfied with a few suggestive strokes; but occasionally he fills in the picture. When he does 30, he gives the general view first, and then tells of particular after particular, deliberately, and with some similitude or collateral circumstance to fix each particular distinctly in the mind. His description of Friedrich in the two first pages of his history, is one of his most finished delineations.

He carries the same art of clear broad touches into his descrip- tion of character. He is not perverted by likes or dislikes from trying to give the broad outlines truly; as a rule, he looks at a character only with the eye of an artist: and as a rule, his vigorous portraiture of the generai temperament is true to nature. example or two will show how he always aims at comprehensive general views. We take them at random :

An

"This Jocelin, as we can discern well, was an ingenious and ingenuous, a cheery-hearted, innocent, yet withal shrewd noticing quick-witted man; and from under his monk's cowl has looked out on that narrow section of the world in a really human manner; not in any simial, canine, ovine, or otherwise inhuman manner," &c.

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The eupeptic, right-thinking nature of the man; his sanguineous temper, with its vivacity and sociality, an ever-busy ingenuity, rather small perhaps, but prompt, hopeful, useful, always with a good dash, too, of Scotch shrewdness, Scotch canniness; and then a loquacity, free, fervid, yet judicious, canny,-in a word, natural vehemence, wholesomely covered over and tem pered (as Sancho has it) in 'three inches of old Christian fat l'-all these fitted Baillie to be a leader in General Assemblies," &c.

In these short dashing portraitures, perhaps the only thing worth objecting to is a certain want of order. It is when we come to the minute detail of character that we become conscious of a weakness in the scientific foundations. Carlyle's failure should warn all of the danger of despising psychological analysis, and at the same time producing an analysis made out by common-sense with the assistance of capricious fancy. De Quincey had too clear an insight to fall into such a blunder; he had no hope even of criticism, unless it was to be based on accurate psychology. Contempt for psychology usually implies bad psychology; contempt for analysis,

bad analysis. Emphatically is it so with Carlyle. Avowing a contempt for analysis, he rushes with analytic assertions into regions where the ablest analyst treads with caution, and commits blunders that the poorest analyst would be ashamed of. We had occasion to note (p. 141) his view about the association of intellect with moral worth, and of a sense of the ridiculous with moral worth. Take this other statement of his favourite doctrine :

“The thinking and the moral nature, distinguished by the necessities of speech, have no such distinction in themselves; but rightly examined, exhibit in every case the strictest sympathy and correspondence; are, indeed, but different phases of the same indissoluble unity—a living mind."

The

Now, here the division into thinking nature and moral nature is an analysis, just as the division into intellect and worth and a faculty of laughter is an analysis. These are distinguished, he says, by the necessities of speech; but does he suppose that the psychologist makes any other than a verbal distinction? difference is this: the scientific analyst distinguishes with care, common speech distinguishes without care. To prefer the common-speech analysis to the scientific, is to prefer unskilled labour to skilled labour; amateur analysis is not likely to be much more valuable than amateur shoemaking.

Persuasion.

Carlyle's way of making converts us, as we have seen, the way of the declaiming prophet, not of the supple plausible debater, or of the solid logician. He appeals almost exclusively to the feelings, not to the reason; and issues his lamentations and denunciations, his Jeremiads and Isaiads, without the slightest attempt to conciliate opponents.

His oratory is employed partly on political, partly on moral subjects. His political intuence has been insignificant, smaller perhaps than has been exercised by any political adviser of moderate ability; his moral influence has been considerable.

What chiefly cripples his influence, is the arrogant ton of his assertions, his total disregard for the feelings and cherisheghe ions of those addressed. A prophet after this strain can win over at first only the few accidentally predisposed to agree with him. With these few all his grandeur and copiousness is overwhelming; they become at once his intense admirers and adherents.

For bringing over such as are not prepared to jump to his conclusions, he exerts little influence, except the intrinsic attractions of his style. A reader is disposed to view with favour opinions clothed in a vesture so brilliant: in admiring the fresh original diction, the gorgeous figures, the soaring declamations, the vivid powers of description and narration, one is in danger of being made

captive to the doctrines. With those that do not admire the style, whose teeth are set on edge by the outrages on propriety of expression, the prophet's force tells the other way. To many, also, his vituperative eloquence, in spite of its undercurrent of geniality, is offensive. With readers so disposed he is far from gaining ground; every fresh effusion widens the breach.

One of the most amiable features in his preaching is the consoling of the humble worker under difficulties. He has many ingenious turns of thought and expression for coining good out of evil, and beguiling the miserable out of their distresses. He comforts the feeble by assuring them with his utmost grandeur of language that in the end right becomes might; that justice, however long delayed, will at length visit the oppressor. He contends with Plato that the victim of wrong suffers less than the wrong-doer; and talks of "only suffering inhumanity not being it or doing it. If a man has genius, "he is admitted into the West-End of the Universe." "Man's unhappiness comes of his greatness.". Had we "half a universe," "there would still be a dark spot in our sunshine." He sets the performance of Duty high above every other consideration. He often declaims against conventional standards of respectability; and cheers the poverty-stricken with such "wine and oil" as the following:

"And now what is thy property? That parchment title-deed, that purse thou buttonest in thy breeches-pocket? Is that thy valuable property? Unhappy brother, most poor insolvent brother, I without parchment at all, with purse oftenest in the flaccid state, imponderous, which will not fling against the wind, have quite other property than that! I have the mirac ulous breath of Life in me, breathed into my nostrils by Almighty God."