AN INTERVIEW WITH MR AND MRS CARLYLE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2398, 9 December 1881, Page 3

AN INTERVIEW WITH MR AND MRS CARLYLE.

Punctual to the time, I knocked at the door. I was conducted upstairs into the drawing-room; and Mrs Carlyle, who was sitting at needlework by a small table, rose to receive me. She was very kind, but reserved, and I thought looked strangely sorrowful, as if some great trouble were weighing her down ; X thought sho looked ill, and yet there was evidently something more depressing than mere bodily suffering. She said, “Mr Carlyle would be down presently, but had not finished his afternoon sleep adding in a slight tone of disparagement, “He always takes a long sleep before tea, and then complains that he can get no sleep at night.” While I was wondering at this strange reception, Carlyle himself entered. He bowed somewhat ceremoniously, and wo shook hands. He then bade me be seated, tea was brought in. Of course we talked as we sipped our tea; but what I chiefly remember is the strange feeling of reserve which seemed to have taken possession of all three of us. Gradually Carlyle began to thaw, probably as ho gradually perceived that ho had not caught such a gushing enthusiast as he may not unreasonably have expected. At nine o’clock I made a movement, indicating that I was aware that the time allowed was up. But he again bade me be seated, kindly said there was no need to hurry away, that he always went out for a walk before bed, and that he would walk out with me. In this assurance Mrs Carlyle kindly joined, and I again sat down, feeling considerably more at ease than before. After this the conversation became more specific and almost genial, although I recollect very little which would bo worth repeating. Mrs Carlyle said little, merely putting in an occasional remark. At length Carlyle abruptly introduced the business which had brought me there, and which I had been waiting for him to refer to. Perhaps my face brightened at this, but certainly _hia own reserve there and then fell from him, and for the first time I felt that I saw Carlyle himself. He told mo the lives of Sterling and Schiller wore the first things requiring attention; and that his wish was to have a summary of each chapter, and an index of both lives, to be placed at the end of the book. That, if I found myself fit for the work, and the work fit for me he could at least promise me enough of it._ But one absolute condition was, that he himself was not to be worried about it, his thoughts being entirely absorbed in other work. In short, that superfluous talk (including writing) was, on all occasions, the one thing to be avoided. He handed me the books, and at eleven o’clock instead of nine, we went out together. He walked with me about a mile on my road, talking in a kind of fatherly way, which sent me home gratefully triumphant. Mrs Carlyle was again very kind at parting ; but I saw, ifith a feeling of peri plexed disappointment, the same weary look, almost of indifference, which I had noticed when I entered. —Henry Larkin, in the “British Quarterly Review.”