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just as well as ever. I'll take care that no one else many and great were the disagrémens of the dintooches it with their little finger."

John then lent an attentive ear to all Fanny's directions, as to how the dinner and dessert should be set out, and immediately commenced operations with a sort of sober despatch, which convinced Fanny that he would perform all the duties of his department to the best of his ability.

ner, Mr. Livingston was in a high ɛtate of enjoyment, while Philip's spirits were so exuberant, and Mr. Seyton so animated, that it was impossible for Fanny to avoid partaking in the general exhilaration of spirit, despite broken China, cracked glass, and the deficiency of plate.

Henry's first day at Oak Grove passed off like Fanny harried to her own apartment, made a a pleasant dream, and he found himself at the close few hasty changes in her attire, without bestowing of it, both unwilling and unable to analyze and half the care or thought upon them she had given systematize his impressions, but resolved to wait for to her household arrangements, and descended to farther experience in Southern life, to enable him join the company before dinner, with a brow a lit-to reconcile facts to his theories.

tle less serene than usual.

As Henry Livingston looked at Fanny, he thought "light breezes will ruffle the flowers sometimes," and wondered whether the lovely Fanny could have been scolding, but when he heard the very sweet and musical tones of her voice, he was convinced that if she had been engaged in that most unfeminine and unpleasant employment, she had only been giving some well merited and necessary reproof.

The much dreaded dinner hour at length arrived, and Fanny's good sense and dignity of character, enabled her to control an uncomfortable degree of trepidation as to how it would pass off. A hasty glance at the dinner table convinced her that John and the cook had topped their parts. The dinner was not more than ten times as much as would be possible for the company to consume,—a moderate disproportion for a Virginia dinner, got up for the entertainment of a strange guest-there were many dishes which are considered in cities as expensive delicacies, cooked so nicely, and seasoned in so savory a manner, as to be very appetising, though It was evident that not even a French cookery book had been called to the aid of the culinary department. John, and Sam by the assistance of various solemn nods and winks from John, got through the first and second courses quite success· fully, and with little bustle, and as John placed the cracked glass dish, filled with beautiful fruit, before Miss Fanny, he gave the slightest possible hint to admonish her to be careful.

Fanny had by this time recovered her natural ease and vivacity, and as Philip and Henry Livingston carried on the conversation like some sparkling stream, gliding gracefully and rapidly from one subject to another, she became so much interested as almost to forget the various little Sources of disturbance which had annoyed her before dinner. It was still as true as before, that the glass dish had a very observable crack, that two of the dishes did not match exactly, that there was very little plate, only two sorts of wine, and worst of all, no silver forks, which Mr. Livingston would doubtless consider as a barbarism, and yet Fanny's spirits had risen above all these untoward circumstances. It was very evident, that however

TO MARY F. F

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Lines written in the Album of a young Lady in Tennes. see, on a stormy day in April. She had just expressed her admiration of Burns' exquisite poem, “Man was made to mourn," ," and on looking out of the window exclaimed, "tis a melancholy day!" Her pensive mood, her serious face, and the storm without, suggested the following thoughts.

When wintry winds are raging high,
And murky clouds obscure the sky,
The snow and rain descending fast,
Borne onwards by the fitful blast;
Sad thoughts upon our hearts return,
We sigh That man was made to mourn."

And hast thou, maiden, learnt so soon,
To Rumbers sad thy harp to tune?
Life is not all an April day;
Tempests and clouds soon pass away;
Not long shall darkness o'er thee reign,
Nor clouds upon thy sky remain.

Thy face is fair; thy brow serene,
Let gladness in thy looks be seen;
With thee on Bigby's quiet stream,
What day should dark or dreary seem?
Let joyful hopes thy bosom cheer
And drive away each anxious fear.

Dark clouds may usher in the day,
And vivid lightnings round thee play;
And yet before the day's decline,
The sun with radiant beams may shine,
And slowly sinking in the west,
Leave not a sorrow in thy breast.

There's joy on earth. Great peace have they,
Who early walk in wisdom's way;
Who hear betimes the Saviour's voice,
And nobly make the better choice;
Joy is with them a constant guest,
No frightful dreams disturb their rest.

Be thine the lot, oh maiden fair,
Meekly life's heavy load to bear;
May gentle Love thy breast inspire,
With every noble, pure desire;
And when thy sun shall set at even,
Oh, may thy spirit rest in heaven.

CARLYLE AND MACAULAY.

sumption of being gleaned for the occasion, while rare gems of classical beauty glisten every where among their pages, lighting up the darkness of the dullest topics as the radiant stars do the nightly If there be any two men who may be said to heavens. From Greece to Scandinavia; from the divide the honor of presiding over the Republic of days of Woden and Thor and the fiery prophet Letters, beyond question they are Carlyle and Ma- of the desert to the fierce Couthon and fiercer Macaulay. Unlike in every feature of their literary rat; from the Lays of Ancient Rome to the acts of characters, widely variant in their pursuits, pre- Lord Clive," where the gorgeous East showers on senting nothing to the mind but inevitable contrast, her kings barbaric pearl and gold"-they turn with they harmonize only as they sit together on a com- a facility and pliancy only equalled by the stupen mon throne of intellectual grandeur, and sway an dous power of insight and of thought which they equal and undisputed sceptre over the minds of all shed upon these themes. From the interior rewho speak our English tongue. Authors and re- cesses of German mysticism and æsthetic philos viewers, they have passed beyond the sphere of ophy to the practical business of every-day life, mere authorship, and stand by acclamation arbitres from the shining pages of the Edinburgh Reelegantium morumque censores. They belong to view to a debate in Parliament, or a Secreta the world. Scotland indeed derives the reflective ry's report, there is to them but one and an honor of being their common mother: but not Scot- easy step. While an ordinary mind would be reland, nor even Great Britain may claim them as posing from recent labor, or slowly adapting itself specially her own. In every hamlet in our west-to the transition of new mental processes on new ern world, their names are pronounced as rever- fields, before attempting a fresh adventure, or gauently, their words are as authoritative, as in Edin-dily enjoying the lavish eneomiums and more solid burgh or London. The peculiarities of their style, fruits of past toil,-with Carlyle and Macaulay it their distinctive modes of thought, the subjects of is already un fait accompli. With the materials their writings are well known and conned, and each ready at hand, the garnered stores of an incompre has his circle of ardent admirers as ready to battle hensible industry, to resolve is well nigh to accomin his service as though the Edinburgh or Lon- plish-to accomplish is to instruct by the tone, and don Quarterly were the special property of those amaze by the extent, of their knowledge. Of both very circles. it may be said nullum tetigit quod non ornavit. Equal perhaps in learning, equally laborious, authoritative and influential with their respective admirers, they sit isolated above the highest rank of literary men, and give the law of criticism to the ranks below. The resemblance between them ends here. They differ among themselves not less than from others. The admirers of Macaulay far outnumber those of Carlyle, for reasons which wa trust to make obvious. The admirers of Carlyle may be rather called disciples; for he is either received and welcomed as a teacher and friend, or rejected as transcendental in thought and barbarous in style. As we said before, beyond the most gener al resemblance, there is between them nothing but contrast.

It is not because of peculiar excellence in any one department of literature that Carlyle and Macaulay may be said to excel all the men of the present day. There are those who in any one of the branches of learning are vastly superior to them, but it is because of the universality of their attainments, the breadth of their knowledge, the comprehensive embrace of their thought, their power of profound originality, the capacity of passing through the alembics of their own minds the stream of other men's ideas, the records of other men's actions, and separating by impartial and vigorous criticism the true from the false, the good from the bad. It is perhaps the extent of the fields they cultivate, as well as, and perhaps more, than the manner of their tillage, which has extorted the admiration of the world. From the peri-er and expounder to the English mind of a philosoCarlyle is the quiet, laborious, unobtrusive teachods of hoar antiquity down to the fleeting present, phy so abstract as to be unintelligible to the mass, in science or in art, in the dull labors of dusty lore, and doubtful and semi-opaque to the few. Thoroughin the lighter pursuits of elegant literature, through ly informed with the philosophy of Kant, illustrathe dubious page of history, or the profounder ted and illuminated by the works of Goethe, be page of philosophy, winning their bread mean- has imbued all his writings with a tinge of that while, they range with a copiousness of knowledge philosophy. Earnest, serious, powerful, he most and power of thought which leave the humbler aspi-think and he must write; bold, rugged, indepenrant amazed and confounded. No department of dent, he must think for himself, he must think withlearning seems to have escaped their footsteps, out reference to what others think or have thought. and what the mind received remained an impene- Discarding, as a resultant of his philosophy, all trable trophy of their research. In their writings conventional forms of thought, he pushes boldly may he found palpable evidences of eradition the beyond the circumscribed regions of common belief most thorough and profound, which defy the pre-or historic deduction, and seizing upon a subject,

resolves all its elements into primitive chaos that | from the love of it, but a stern, rugged, truth-lovhe may reconstruct for himself a creed of his own. ing vindicator of right, who boldly and sincerely A strenuous believer in the doctrine of the Esote- stands up for principle, and justifies his claim to hisric, he erects as a standard by which all men and toric remembrance by honesty and toil. all things, past, present, and future, are to be tried, It is perchance a bootless labor, this, of uttering the triple motto of sincerity, truth and labor. Be- to mankind truths infixed in his conscience at the sides these, with him there is nothing that rises to creation, which were preached by Noah before the the dignity of being worthy of record. The quiet flood and were thundered from Sinai, which are life of the hind watching his browsing flocks; the exemplified in every-day life, which are the burden tamultuous life of the warrior; the bright and luxuri- of history, and which yet make little or no impresous life of the Prince; the secluded labors of the schol- sion upon the moral sensorium of the race. Such ar—man under all circumstances every where is as our fathers were, so are we. We indulge a tried by the same stern, unchanging test-sincerity, world of cant about virtue and candor, truth and truth, fortitude. Holding truth to be generically sincerity, fraternity and charitableness; but wo the sum and centre of all good, he looks upon life betide the one who goes forth into the world, hoas a mighty field, wherein men are but workers-ping to find any thing more than a conventional and whereof Truth is the harvest. Men must think cold acknowledgment of their claims, while the truth, feel truth, act truth, in all the ramified du-stern and heroic practice of them is looked upon ties and incidents of life. Scorning the extrinsic as a mental obliquity, an unaccountable moral idiounder all circumstances, the whole catalogue of syncrasy, a juvenile verdancy, which a better knowshifts, contrivances, expedients and mere conven- ledge of the world only can remedy. Craft, extionalities are given to the winds, and in their place pediency, success upon any terms, pretension, are are substituted candor, sincerity, courage. Look the current coin of society. We do not say the ing upon every son of Adam as an immortal work- world is any worse than it has been; we only say er in the field of truth, he sees no inequality save it is little or no better. Civilization and Religion such as God has made, or the conventionalities of have done something, but for the law of force, we society have created; and he smites with the ham- have substituted the law of cunning; for the sinmer of Thor the fabric of society, and would crush cerity of the savage, we have adopted the coverevery impediment which lies in the way of the on- ing of social duplicity, and fancy our vices to be ward progress of Humanity, would snap every less, because they are gilded with the elegancies ligature which binds man in the thraldom of gov- and refinement of civilized life. ernmental or social oppression. Piercing with a glance of fire the hollow systems, dull formalities and cumbrous routine of the world, he has striven to arouse men by an electric shock from an observance of the mere "wrappages and bandages," and point them to the "inner heart of things." He has called them back from the chase after bubbles, to the plain realities of life. As Longfellow has expressed it, he exclaims

"Life is real, life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal,
'Dust thou art, to Dust returnest,'
Was not spoken of the soul."

Carlyle has not so much attempted to teach anything new, as to impress upon the heart of mankind the reality of the truths they recognize, but do not receive, which they prate of, but neglect to practise.

Man has lost faith in the cardinal virtues; they hang upon his lips, but they find no place in his heart. In the place of the living, throbbing heart, there is the dry and bloodless anatomical preparation of art and conventionality. Lest, however, we shall be thought too harsh, or at least morose, let us see what the pious and profound Foster has said: "There is no avoiding the ungracious perception in viewing the general character of the race, that after some allowance for what is called natural affection, the main strength of human feeling consists in the love of sensual gratification, of distinction, of power and of money. All the speculations and schemes of the sanguine projectors of all ages, have left the world stili a prey to infinite legions of vices and miseries,-an immortal band which has trampled in scorn on the monuments, and the dust of the self-idolizing men, who dreamed each in his day, that they were born to chase these evils out of the earth. Collective man is Human Nature, and the conduct of this assemblage under the diversified experiment continually made upon it, expresses its true character and indicates what may be expected from it."

With these doctrines in his mind, he does not hesitate to take his stand in the mid-current of popular belief and historic teaching, and propound opinions new and startling. To him Mahomet is no impostor, but an ardent enthusiast, self-deluded, bat honest, preaching to his brethren of the desert It is to revivify the inanimate truths of life, to all the truth he knows and vindicating his integri- give soul and being to them, that Carlyle employs ty and his claim to the good opinion of the world, his powerful pen. He sees mankind devoting to by his sincerity and labor. Cromwell is not a the shadow what belongs to the substance, and conerafty and presumptuous usurper, seizing power suming in heartless forms what was intended for real

ends, and he lifts up his voice with a new evangel is outwardly manifested we behold, but what goes calling on men to return to the simplicity of truth on within is hidden from us: we are all concentric and the sincerity of nature.

To him the family of man is one great brotherhood, with mutual claims and common hopes-and his great heart yearns with an intense and earnest love for every creature of God.

causes of an adventitious nature.

To doubt that the works of Carlyle have had an influence on the times and are still operating, is to shut our eyes to experience, and to doubt the power and success of Truth. To expect that doctrines which go so against the grain of human feeling, are to be rapidly adopted, or attain general prevalence, would be to have learned nothing from the experience of the past. But time is flying-changes are going on-new phases of the world's history are almost hourly presenting themselves : over the whole moral and physical creation there broods a spirit of change, of renovation. If time be measured by results. it flies swifter now than at any former period, and brings with it wonders which have ceased to startle, miracles which attract no surprise.

circles and we sympathize with each other only at the centre, or where our circles impinge upon each other. We feel alike and think alike only on those great topics which are common to the race: we catch glimpses of each other, often obscured and It is not to be denied that his teachings are con- hazy by reason of passion, prejudice, or ignorance, veyed in a manner so abstract as to fail of impresor sing the heedless, and his style is so much aside from all established rules of writing, that it is an offence and a stumbling-block to the fastidious. It is greatly to be regretted, moreover, that both his doctrines and his style have found in this country a sect of silly imitators, who have exaggerated both, until they have passed the limits of reason and degenerated into broad caricaturists. Many who know nothing of the great garner of his grain, form their opinions from these few floating particles of chaff. This is neither just nor wise. So far as the question of style is concerned, it is enough to say that it is his own and as much a part of himself as his thoughts are; and we incline to the belief, that upon inspection it will be found to conform to the natural mode of expression, more closely than is commonly supposed. The best style is that which best and most easily conveys the thought. The generally received idea, that every man's thoughts must be submitted to the Procrustean process of Sympathy among men is beginning to be felt. being forced into a style, is one of the feudalities The extremes of society are approximating each of literature, and is a fetter on the free spread of other-the zenith and the nadir of life are draw.ng opinion. Here, as every where else. Carlyle has together. The great democratic principle of equal abandoned the conventional and adopted the natu- political rights is compressing society to as near a ral. He writes as he thinks, and, strictly speak-level as nature will justify. Remote nations shake ing, cannot be said to have any style. hands with one another. Conventional rights are

Truditur Dies die

Novæ que pergunt interire Lunæ.

We have said that his works evince that he is a giving place to natural rights. Government is simstrong lover of his race: they evince a broad, deep plifying-is reducing its weight to the smallest sympathy with mankind. In the Sartor Resartus pressure; each integer of society is taking his place he compressed the leading views of man which in the social circle. The government of Force, or run through all his other works. So far as we Machiavellian fraud, is giving away to the governhave been able to form an opinion, men do not re-ment of popular will and sincere action. The ciprocate with him this feeling of sympathy. writings of Carlyle have contributed no little to

46

As one of the best specimens of Carlyle's descriptive style, we cite the following passage:

A certain amount of sympathy with the strug-this result. Of those which bear this character, gling millions of humanity, whose life is one con- we instance that on “Chartism," written some tes tinual toil, and whom hardship and sorrow perpet-years ago, when the disaffection towards guvernually encompass, is indispensable to the highest ment in England, known by that natne, first began qualities of the scholar no less than to true ge- to manifest itself-beside the general tendency nius. Without it none knows how to touch those of all his works to lift up the eyes and cheer the common chords, whose vibration alone is universal hearts of the oppressed of Europe. fame, and by means of which, and not otherwise, the author gains a permanent abode in the hearts of mankind." The sympathy of Carlyle is too pure and too profound to strike a respondent chord in the hearts of mankind nor is this an anomaly. The greatest lovers and the greatest benefactors of their species have outlived their generation, before they were comprehended, and “their good works lived after them." The reason of this is, that of the whole circle of a man's thoughts and feelings, we behold only here and there a small segment. What

A Description of a City at Night.

"Ach mein Lieber!" said he once at midnight.

when we had returned from the Coffee house 17 rather earnest talk, "it is a true sublimity to due: here. These fringes of lamplight, struggling sp through smoke and thousand-fold exhalation, some fathoms into the ancient reign of Night, what thinks Böotes of them, as he leads his Hunting Dogs over

the Zenith in their leash of sidereal fire? That |ally received doctrines of Christianity. We may stifled hum of Midnight when Traffic has lain down content ourselves with simply saying that it is ento rest; and the chariot-wheels of Vanity, still cumbent on those who make this charge to adduce rolling here and there through distant streets, are

:

bearing her to Halls roofed in, and lighted to the due something like proof in support of it. They are pitch for her and only Vice and Misery, to prowl at least bound to show in his writings some repugor to moan like night birds, are abroad: that hum.nance to Christianity, or some effort to supplant its I say, like the stertorous, unquiet slumber of sick doctrines. We confidently assert that none such Life, is heard in Heaven! Oh, under that hideous can be found. There is the most entire harmony coverlet of vapors, and putrefactions, and unimagi and coincidence between his teachings and the nable gases, what a Fermenting-vat lies simmering and hid! The joyful and the sorrowful are there; doctrines of the Gospel: he quotes frequently from men are dying there, men are being born; men are the Bible, and there is never any irreverent expraying,—on the other side of a brick partition, men pression escaping him. On the contrary there is are cursing and around them all is the vast, void every where present the most profound and childNight. The proud Grandee still lingers in his like reverence for the Deity and the mission and perfumed saloons, or reposes within damask cur- character of Jesus. Nor is it possible to discover tains; Wretchedness cowers into truckle-beds, or shivers hanger-stricken into his lair of straw in the least bias of mind indicating Unitarian or Triobscure cellars, Rouge-et-Noir languidly emits its voice-of-destiny to haggard hungry villains; while Councillors of State sit plotting and playing their high chess-game, whereof the pawns are Men The Lover whispers his mistress that the coach is ready; and she full of hope and fear, glides down

to fly with him over the borders: the Thief still more silently, sets-to his picklocks and crow-bars, or lurks in wait till the watchmen first snore in their boxes.

nitarian, Armenian, Socinian, Calvinist or Swedenborgian. We think it likely that many have confounded Carlyle with Carlisle, now deceased, and who was an avowed and confident champion of Infidelity.

"

Of the other works of Carlyle, the History of the French Revolution and his Hero Worship," are the most noticeable. The History of the French Revolution is the most peculiar specimen Gay mansions, with supper-rooms and dancing of his style. His great tendancy to symbolize, is rooms, are full of light and music and high swelling hearts; but in the Condemned Cells the pulse here fully exemplified. The power of generalizing of life beats tremulous and faint, and bloodshot is displayed to a wonderful degree, and the whole eyes look out through the darkness, which is around if not a good history, is a curiosity of literature. and within, for the light of a stern last morning. There is in the character of Carlyle, as we judge Six men are to be hanged on the morrow: comes from an attentive perusal of his works, the comno hammering from the Raben-stein?—their gallows must even now be o'building. Upwards of mingled goodness and gentleness of the Christian five hundred thousand two-legged animals without disciple, with the inflexible sternness of the stoic feathers lie around us, in horizontal position; their philosopher. There are evidences of an extensive heads all in nightcaps and full of the foolishest acquaintance with the heart of mankind and alas! dreams. Riot cries aloud, and staggers and swag- there are abundant traces of deep and enduring gers in his rank dens of shame; and the Mother, pain. Too plainly the world has not gone all with streaming hair, kneels over her pallid dying infant, whose cracked lips only her tears now mois ten. All these heaped and huddled together, with nothing but a little carpentry and masonry between them-crammed in. like salted fish, in their bar rel; or weltering, shall I say, like an Egyptian pitcher of tained Vipers, each struggling to get its head above the others: such work goes on under that smoke-counterpane! But I, mein Werther, sit above it all; I am alone with the Stars."

smoothly with him. But with a trusting and brave heart he struggles on "silently devouring his own griefs," knowing that the end of the toilsome and dusty journey will come at last. We know of nothing better calculated to soothe and encourage a troubled soul than communion with this great mind. He does not pander to a depraved and morbid sensibility, or allow a listless apathy to the concerns of life. There is no sentimentality about To comprehend or conceive of him, however, him, but strong, healthful sentiment. The words he must be read and that extensively. It is quite which ring in the ears of the Wandering Jew, are a common thing to hear Carlyle vehemently con- ever on his lips-" March" on, on through the demned, or contemptuously sneered at. There is snows of winter and the solstitial heat, amid sornothing to remark upon the persons who do this, row and woe, toil and regrets, " March," "Life is a except that they usually display a profound igno- struggle, rest is at the end. He conquers, who rance of him beyond his patronymic and the titles bravely meets and wrestles with the sorrows ineiof some few of his books. They take their cue dent to life. He will conquer who puts his trust in from the Reviewers and content themselves with God, and right. He must be vanquished, however the reflection that they are at least on the popular sustained by adventitious and conventional aids

side.

66

who trusts not in these." Such are the noble sen

We have heard it often asserted that Carlyle, if timents of Carlyle. This is the vital spirit of his not positively infidel, is at least setting up a sys- writings. Looking back at the past and forward tem of morals designed as a substitute for the usu- to the future history of his race, casting his eyes

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