word comes from the heart,’ he had resolved to try that method.  What he said in words will be learned otherwise than from me.  I could not well describe it; but I do not think I ever heard any address that I should be so unwilling to blot from my memory.  Not that there was much in it that cannot be found in his writings, or inferred from them; but the manner of the man was a key to the writings, and for naturalness and quiet power, I have never seen anything to compare with it.  He did not deal in rhetoric.  He talked—­it was continuous, strong, quiet talk—­like a patriarch about to leave the world to the young lads who had chosen him and were just entering the world.  His voice is a soft, downy voice—­not a tone in it is of the shrill, fierce kind that one would expect it to be in reading the Latter-day Pamphlets.

“There was not a trace of effort or of affectation, or even of extravagance.  Shrewd common sense there was in abundance.  There was the involved disrupted style also, but it looked so natural that reflection was needed to recognise in it that very style which purists find to be un-English and unintelligible.  Over the angles of this disrupted style rolled out a few cascades of humour—­quite as if by accident.  He let them go, talking on in his soft, downy accents, without a smile; occasionally for an instant looking very serious, with his dark eyes beating like pulses, but generally looking merely composed and kindly, and so, to speak, father-like.  He concluded by reciting his own translation of a poem of Goethe—­

  “‘The future hides in it gladness and sorrow.’

And this he did in a style of melancholy grandeur not to be described, but still less to be forgotten.  It was then alone that the personality of the philosopher and poet were revealed continuously in his manner of utterance.  The features of his face are familiar to all from his portraits.  But I do not think any portrait, unless, perhaps, Woolner’s medallion, gives full expression to the resolution that is visible in his face.  Besides, they all make him look sadder and older than he appears.  Although he be threescore and ten, his hair is still abundant and tolerably black, and there is considerable colour in his cheek.  Not a man of his age on that platform to-day looked so young, and he had done more work than any ten on it.”

The correspondent of the Pall Mall Gazette gives some interesting particulars:—­

“Mr. Carlyle had not spoken in public before yesterday, since those grand utterances on Heroes and Hero-worship in the institute in Edwards Street, Marylebone, which one can scarcely believe, whilst reading them, to have been, in the best sense, extemporaneously delivered.  In that case Mr. Carlyle began the series, as we have heard, by bringing a manuscript which he evidently found much in his way, and presently abandoned.  On the second evening he brought some notes or headings; but these also tripped him until