personal history during these earlier years in London may be gleaned
incidentally from his "Life of John Sterling," a book, which, from the
nature of it, is necessarily partly autobiographical.
Thomas Moore and others met him sometimes in London society at this
time. Moore thus briefly chronicles a breakfast at Lord Houghton's, at
which Carlyle was present:--
"22nd May, 1838.--Breakfasted at Milnes', and met rather a remarkable
party, consisting of Savage, Landor, and Carlyle (neither of whom I
had ever seen before), Robinson, Rogers, and Rice. A good deal of
conversation between Robinson and Carlyle about German authors, of
whom I knew nothing, nor (from what they paraded of them) felt that I
had lost much by my ignorance."[A]
[Footnote A: Diary of Thomas Moore. (Lond. 1856.) Vol. vii., p. 224]
In 1835, after the publication of "Sartor Resartus," Carlyle received an
invitation from some American admirers of his writings, to visit their
country, and he contemplated doing so, but his labours in examining
and collecting materials for his great work on "The French Revolution,"
then hastening towards completion, prevented him.
We may say that, for many reasons, it is to be regretted that this design
was never carried into execution. Had Carlyle witnessed with his own
eyes the admirable working of democratic institutions in the United
States, he might have done more justice to our Transatlantic brethren,
who were always his first and foremost admirers, and he might also
have acquired more faith in the future destinies of his own countrymen.
In December, 1837, Carlyle wrote a very remarkable letter to a
correspondent in India, which has never been printed in his works, and
which we are enabled to give here entire. It is addressed to Major
David Lester Richardson, in acknowledgment of his "Literary Leaves,
or Prose and Verse," published at Calcutta in 1836. These "Literary
Leaves" contain among other things an article on the Italian Opera
(taking much the same view of it as Carlyle does), and a sketch of
Edward Irving. These papers no doubt pleased Carlyle, and perhaps led
him to entertain a rather exaggeratedly high opinion of the rest of the
book.
THOMAS CARLYLE TO DAVID LESTER RICHARDSON.
"5, Cheyne Row, Chelsea, London, "_19th December_, 1837.
"My DEAR SIR,
"Your courteous gift, with the letter accompanying it, reached me only
about a week ago, though dated 20th of June, almost at the opposite
point of the year. Whether there has been undue delay or not is
unknown to me, but at any rate on my side there ought to be no delay.
"I have read your volume--what little of it was known to me before, and
the much that was not known--I can say, with true pleasure. It is written,
as few volumes in these days are, with fidelity, with successful care,
with insight and conviction as to matter, with clearness and graceful
precision as to manner: in a word, it is the impress of a mind stored
with elegant accomplishments, gifted with an eye to see, and a heart to
understand; a welcome, altogether recommendable book. More than
once I have said to myself and others, How many parlour firesides are
there this winter in England, at which this volume, could one give
credible announcement of its quality, would be right pleasant company?
There are very many, could one give the announcement: but no such
announcement can be given; therefore the parlour firesides must even
put up with ---- or what other stuff chance shovels in their way, and
read, though with malediction all the time. It is a great pity, but no man
can help it. We are now arrived seemingly pretty near the point when
all criticism and proclamation in matters literary has degenerated into
an inane jargon, incredible, unintelligible, inarticulate as the cawing of
choughs and rooks; and many things in that as in other provinces, are in
a state of painful and rapid transition. A good book has no way of
recommending itself except slowly and as it were accidentally from
hand to hand. The man that wrote it must abide his time. He needs, as
indeed all men do, the faith that this world is built not on falsehood and
jargon but on truth and reason; that no good thing done by any creature
of God was, is, or ever can be lost, but will verily do the service
appointed for it, and be found among the general sum-total and all of
things after long times, nay after all time, and through eternity itself.
Let him 'cast his bread upon the waters,' therefore, cheerful of heart; 'he
will find it after many days.'
"I know not why I write all this to you; it comes very spontaneously
from me. Let it be your satisfaction, the highest a man can have
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