[Footnote A:  Shade of Mr. Turveydrop senior, hear this man!]

“I was present some months ago, during the delivery of a speech by Mr. Carlyle at a meeting held in the Freemasons’ Tavern, for the purpose of forming a metropolitan library; and though that speech did not occupy in its delivery more than five minutes, he made use of some of the most extraordinary phraseology I ever heard employed by a human being.  He made use of the expression ‘this London,’ which he pronounced ‘this Loondun,’ four or five times—­a phrase which grated grievously on the ears even of those of Mr. Carlyle’s own countrymen who were present, and which must have sounded doubly harsh in the ears of an Englishman, considering the singularly broad Scotch accent with which he spoke.

“A good deal of uncertainty exists as to Mr. Carlyle’s religious opinions.  I have heard him represented as a firm and entire believer in revelation, and I have heard it affirmed with equal confidence that he is a decided Deist.  My own impression is,” &c.[A]

[Footnote A:  “Portraits of Public Characters,” by the author of “Random Recollections of the Lords and Commons.”  Vol. ii. pp. 152-158.]

In 1841 Carlyle superintended the publication of the English edition of his friend Emerson’s Essays,[B] to which he prefixed a characteristic Preface of some length.

[Footnote B:  Essays:  by R.W.  Emerson, of Concord, Massachusetts.  With Preface by Thomas Carlyle.  London:  James Fraser, 1841.]

“The name of Ralph Waldo Emerson,” he writes, “is not entirely new in England:  distinguished travellers bring us tidings of such a man; fractions of his writings have found their way into the hands of the curious here; fitful hints that there is, in New England, some spiritual notability called Emerson, glide through Reviews and Magazines.  Whether these hints were true or not true, readers are now to judge for themselves a little better.

“Emerson’s writings and speakings amount to something:  and yet hitherto, as seems to me, this Emerson is perhaps far less notable for what he has spoken or done, than for the many things he has not spoken and has forborne to do.  With uncommon interest I have learned that this, and in such a never-resting, locomotive country too, is one of those rare men who have withal the invaluable talent of sitting still!  That an educated man, of good gifts and opportunities, after looking at the public arena, and even trying, not with ill success, what its tasks and its prizes might amount to, should retire for long years into rustic obscurity; and, amid the all-pervading jingle of dollars and loud chaffering of ambitions and promotions, should quietly, with cheerful deliberateness, sit down to spend his life not in Mammon-worship, or the hunt for reputation, influence, place, or any outward advantage whatsoever:  this, when we get a notice of it, is a thing really worth noting.”

In 1843, “Past and Present” appeared—­a work without the wild power which “Sartor Resartus” possessed over the feelings of the reader, but containing passages which look the same way, and breathe the same spirit.  The book contrasts, in a historico-philosophical spirit, English society in the Middle Ages, with English society in our own day.  In both this and the preceding work the great measures advised for the amelioration of the people are education and emigration.