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    formally setting forth its contents : a few extracts X cfrvitive of Carlyle are all we shall venture on . No one doubted Carlyle ' s pathos , but somehow these pages it has a more real , a more homely innk ine xpressibly charming , and the simple indemnity of the language in which it utters itself ;; nuite B iblical . Take as a specimen this concision of his last interview with his friend : — "We parted before long ; bedtime for invalids beinff come ; he escorted me down certain carpeted hack stairs and would not be forbidden ; we took { lave under the dim skies ; and , alas ! little as I then dreamt of it , this , so far as I can calculate , must have been the last time I ever saw him in the world . Softly as a common evening , the last of evenings had passed away , and no other would come for me evermore . " Is not the rhythm of that closing sentence beautiful ? Read this : —

    « Here , from this period , is a letter of Sterling ' s , which the glimpses it affords of bright scenes and figures now sunk , so many of them , sorrowfully to the realm of shadows , will render interesting to some of readers . To me on the mere letter , not on it 9 contents alone , there is accidentally a kind of fateful 6 tamp . A few months after Charles Buller ' s death , while his loss was mourned by many hearts , and to his poor mother all light except what hung upon his memory had gone out in the "world , a certain delicate and friendly hand , hoping to give the poor bereaved lady a good moment , soughtout this letter of Sterling's one morning , and called with intent to read it to her : alas , the poor lady had herself fallen suddenly into the languors of death , help of another grander sort now close at hand ; and to her this letter was never

    read !" How prettily painted is the picture of the lonely Mother in this sentence : — " Troubled , days for the poor mother in that smal household on Blackheath , as there are for mothers in so many households in this world ! I have heard that Mrs . Sterling passed much of her time alone at this period . Her husband ' s pursuits , with his Wellesleys and the like , often carrying him into town and detaining him late there , she would sit among her sleeping children , such of them as death had still spared , perhaps thriftily plying her needle , full of mournful affectionate night thoughts , —apprehensive too , in her tremulous heart , that the head of the house might have fallen among robbers in his way homeward . "

    It has already been hinted how interesting this book is in glimpses of the biographer ; here is a touch which in after times will be classed with the traits of gentle tenderness in dear old Johnson" the sweetness that Samson found in the Lion ' s mouth , " as Leigh Hunt somewhere says of Skakspeare : Sterling , in a postscript , sends a message from his daughter Charlotte about her doll's shoes . " As to little Charlotte and her doll , " writes the

    rugged Ishmael , " I remember well enough and was more than once reminded this bright little creature , on one of my first visits to Bayswatcr , had earnestly applied to me to put her doll's shoes on for her , which feat was performed . " Mulready , Leslie , Frith , Webster , do you want a subject ? Take this of the stern Titan , bending his shaggy brows and deep and thoughtfully tender eyes over the difficulties of shoeing a doll—the bright little eager creature standing by , watching the philosopher clumsily performing the feat !

    Turning to other considerations , let us not forget to note the plain and emphatic language in which at last he speaks out his deep-rooted antagonism to all Established Churches . Much abuse , much hatred , this will probably draw down . Is not the 'limes article an alarum ? To all orthodox minds Carl yle must now unhesitatingly stand confessed as not of them . Hitherto he hat ) written on religious subjects , as if he hated Cunt and Shams ; but somehow , by the very ambiguity of his language , he has always seemed to have a Bishop in low ¦ N ow he has fairly out cables , and leaves the Bishop to tow himself as he best m ; iy . Our renders are t (><> much interested in the cause of free utterance ,

    not to welcome Hiich accession . Not that Carlylc has panned over to our camp . We cannot accurately 'leterinine what his religious opinions are ; but we do not suppose they « ue such as we hold . In the greater cause , however , in that which transcends all * <> ruiN and formulas , and given to every creed it « rights of utterance and organization , Carlylo is working by his powerful denunciations against tho ™< ikc-b ( ditive which reigns at the present day . For J in in the want of duo recognition of frets thought «» ut so much hypocrisy liven ; men pretend to believe Whilt lll « y do not believe , bccaiuc that belief is called *««|>« ctabl e . Carryle exclaims : — ' Spoedy end to Superstition , —a gentle one if you m co"trive it , but an end . What can it profit any

    mortal to adopt locutions and imaginations which do not correspond to fact ; which no sane mortal can deliberately adopt in his soul as true ; which the most orthodox of mortals can only , and this after infinite essentially impious effort to put out the eyes of his mind , persuade himself to believe that he believes' ? Away with it ; in the name of God , come out of it , all true men ! " He speaks of those simple persons " who are afraid of many things and not afraid of hypocrisy which is the worst and one irremediably bad thing . "

    It is a delicate question , no doubt , to settle what you shall believe . All we ask is that you simply hold to what you do believe , and not give that sacred right up to any pretence of belief . " What the light of your mind , " says Carlyle , " which is the direct inspiration of the Almighty , pronounces incrediblethat in God ' s name leave uncredited ; at your peril do not try believing that . " Elsewhere , " To steal into heaven—by the modern method of striking your head into fallacies on earth is for ever forbidden . High treason is the name of that attempt ; and it continues to be punished as such . "

    Besides the picture given of John Sterling and his Life , there are two fine portraits—one of Gaptain Sterling , " an impetuous man , full of real energy , and immensely conscious of the same ; who transacted everything not with the minimum of noise and fuss , but with the maximum , " who as the Thunderer of the Times made himself famous in his day—the other of Coleridge , by far the most graphic portrait that has yet been painted of him , not omitting the real beauty which assuredly there was , and touching gently , though significantly , on the source of his weaknesses .

    " Coleridge sat on the brow of Highgate-hill , in those years , looking down on London and its smoketumult like a sage escaped from the inanity of life ' s battle ; attracting towards him the thoughts of innumerable brave souls still engaged there . His express contributions to poetry , philosophy , or any specific province of human literature or enlightenment , had been small and sadly intermittent ; but he had , especially among young inquiring men , a higher than literary , a kind of prophetic or magician , character . He was thought to hold , —he alone in England , —the key of German and other transcendentalisms ; knew the sublime secret of believing by the reason' what the understanding ' had been obliged to fling out as

    incredible ; and could still , after Hume and Voltaire had done their best and worst with him , profess himself an orthodox Christian , and say and point to the Church of England , with its singular old rubrics and surplices at Allh illowtide , Estopcrpetua . * * * * He distinguished himself to all that ever heard him as at least the most surprising talker extant in this world , —and to some small minority , by no means to all , the most excellent . The good man , he was now getting old , towards sixty perh : » ps ; nnd gave you the idea of a life that had been full of sufferings ; a life heavy-laden , h ; ilf-vanqui « hcd , still swimming painfully in seas of manifold physical and other bewilderment . Brow and head were round and of

    massive weight , but the face was flabby and irresolute . The deep eyes , of a light hazel , were as full of sorrow as of inspiration ; confused pain looked mildly from them , as in a kind of mild astonishment . The whole figure and air , good and amiable otherwise , might be called flabby and irresolute , expressive of weakness under possibility of strengh . A heavyladen , high-aspiring , and surely much-suffering man . His voice , naturally soft and good , bad contracted

    itself into a plaintive snuffle and sing-song ; he spoke as if preaching , you would have said , preaching earnestly and also hopelessly the weightiest things . I still recollect his ' object' and ' subject , ' terms oi continual recurrence in the Kimtean province ; and how he sung nnd snufiled them into ' om-m-mject ' ' sum-in-inject , ' with a kind of solemn nhake or quaver , as h « rolled along . No talk , in his century or in any other , could be more Hurpri . sing .

    " Sterling , who asaidiously attended linn , with profound reverence , and was often with him by himself for u good many months , { jives a record of their first colloquy . Their colloquies were numerous , and he bad taken note of many ; but they are all to gone ; the fire , except this first , which Mr . Hare bus printed , unluckily without date . It contains a number of ingenious , true , and half-true observations , and ih , of course , n faithful epitome of the things « uid ; but it gives small idea «)» ' Coleridge ' H way of talking . This one feature ih , neihaps , the most recognisable , —

    ' Our interview lasted for three hours , during which he talked two hours and three-quarters . ' To wit an a passive bucket and be pumped into , whether you consent or not , can in the long-run be exhilarating to no creature — how eloquent ««> ever the flood of utterance that i » descending . Hut if it be withal a confused , unintelligible Hood of utterance , threatening to submerge all known landmarks of thought , and drown the world and you ! 1 have beard Coleridge talk , with ca ^ er musical energy , two stricken hours , 3 ii » face riuliant nnd moist , and communicate no meaning whatsoever to any individual of Mb hcarerw

    — 'Certain of whom , I for one , still kept eagerly listening in hope ; the most had long before given up , and formed ( if the room were large enough ) secondary humming groups of their own . " He had knowledge about many things and topics , —much curious reading ; but generally all topics led him , after a pass or two , into the high seas of theosophic philosophy , the hazy infinitude of Kantean transcendentalism , with its ' sum-m-mjects' and ' omm-mjects . ' Sad enough , for with such indolent impatience of the claims and ignorances o £ others , he had not the least talent for explaining this or anything unknown to them ; and you swam and fluttered in the mistiest , wide , unintelligible deluge of things , for most part in a rather profitless , uncomfortable

    manner . Glorious islets , too , I have seen rise out of the haze ; but they were few , and soon swallowed in the general element again . Balmy , sunny islets , islets of the blest and the intelligible ; on which occasions those secondary humming group 3 would all cease humming , and hang breathless upon the eloquent words , till once your islet got wrapt in the mist again , and they could recommence humming . One right peal of concrete laughter at some convicted flesh and blood absurdity , one burst of noble indignation at some injustice or depravity rubbing elbows with us on this solid earth , how strange would it have been in that Kantean haze-world , and how infinitely cheering amid its vacant aircastles and dim-melting ghosts and shadows ! None such ever came . His life had

    been an abstract thinking and dreaming , idealistic one , passed amid the ghosts of defunct bodies and of unborn ones . The mourning sing-song of that theo-8 ophico-metaphysical monotomy left on you , at last , a very dreary feeling . " From the report of Sterling ' s friends this Life seems to convey a true and generous notion of what John Sterling was . The world will regard the book as being in itself deeply interesting—one of the most interesting Carlyle has written .

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    HERMAN MELVILLE . The Whale ; or , Moby Dick . By Herman Melville , author of Typee , Omoo , 8 cc . 3 vols . lientley . Want of originality has long been the just and standing reproach to American literature ; the best of its writers were but second-hand Englishmen . Of late some have given evidence of originality ; not absolute originality , but such genuine outcoming of the American intellect as can be safely called national . Edgar Poe , Nathaniel Hawthorne , Herman Melville are assuredly no British offshoots ; nor is Emerson—the German American that he is

    The observer of this commencement oi an American literature , properly so called , will notice as significant that these writers have a wild and mystic love of the supersensual , peculiarly their own . To move a horror skilfully , with something- of the earnest faith in the Unseen , and with weird imagery to shape these Phantasms so vividly that the most incredulous mind is hushed , absorbed—to do this no Kuropean pen has apparently any longer the power—to do this American literature is without a rival . What romance writer can be named with Hawthorne ? Who knows the terrors of the seas

    like Herman Melville ? The Whale—Melville ' s lust book—is a strange , wild , weird book , full of poetry and full of interest . To use ahackneyed phrase , it is indeed " refreshing " to quit the old , wornout pathways of romance , and feel the sea breezes playing through our hair , the salt spray dashing on our brows , as we do here . One tires terribly of ballrooms , dinners , and the incidents of town life ! One never tires of Nature . And there is Nature here , though the daring imagery often grows riotously extravagant .

    Then the ghostly terrors which Herman Melville so skilfully evokes , have a strange fascination . In vain Reason rebels . Imagination is absolute . () idinary superstitions related by vulgar pens have lost their power over all but the credulous ; but Imagination has a credulity of its own respondent to power . So it is with Melville ' s superstitions : we believe in them imaginatively . And here we will take the occasion to introduce the reader to a splendid passage from our greatest prose writer , descriptive of the superstitious nature of sailors —( yon dniiio that wo are to quote from De Quincey ) . lie .

    says they are all superstitious . " Partly , 1 . suppose , from lookiny out so much upon the wilderness oj waves empty of human life ; for mighty solitudes are generally fear-haunted and fear-peopled ; hucIi , for instance , us the solitudes of forests when ; , in the absence of human forma and ordinary human Rounds , are diHcerned forms more dusky and vague not referred by the eye to any known type , and Hounds imperfectly intelligible . Now , the nvn is often peopled amidst its ravings with what seem innumerable human voices , ' ancestral voices prophesying war '; often times laughter mixon from a

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    Nov . 8 , 1351 . ] © fie & £ && **? 1067

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Nov. 8, 1851, page 1067, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1908/page/15/