pin them down at their proper dates; and try if the reader can, by such ineans, catch a glimpse of the thing with his own eyes.'

His account of old Friedrich's violence to young Friedrich upon the attempted "desertion," is a fair sample of his figurative manner at its acme :—

"Friedrich Wilhelm's conduct, looked at from without, appears that of a hideous royal ogre, or blind anthropophagous Polyphemus fallen mad. Looked at from within, where the Polyphemus has his reasons, and a kind of inner rushlight to enlighten his path, and is not bent on man-eating, but on discipline in spite of difficulties, -it is a wild enough piece of humanity, not so much ludicrous as tragical. Never was a royal bear so led about before by a pair of conjuring pipers in the market, or brought to such a pass in his dancing for them."

Two other things must be noticed before we have a complete idea of his employment of similitudes. One is a habit, already partially alluded to, of keeping up descriptive metaphors, and using them instead of the literal names, or along with the literal names as a kind of permanent Homeric epithet. Thus, he never mentions the Countess of Darlington without designating her as the "cataract of tallow;" or the Duchess of Kendal without something equivalent to "Maypole or lean human nailrod." The other noticeable thing is his frequent repetition, with or without variations, of certain favourite figures. Perhaps the most characteristic is his stock of metaphors and similes drawn from the great features of the material world to illustrate the moral; his "pole-star veiled by thick clouds," his earthquakes, mad foam-oceans, Noah's deluge, mud-deluges, cesspools of the Universe, Pythons, Megatheriums, Chimæras, Dead-Sea Apes, and suchlike.

He has also certain favourite personifications, which are made to do a great deal of service. Such are the Destinies, the Necessities, the dumb Veracities, the Eternal Voices, Fact, Nature, all which are so many synonyms for the homely phrase, "circumstances beyond our control." We have seen that when Friedrich was shut up alone at Cüstrin, he was left in "colloquy with the Destinies and the Necessities there." In another passage he is said to be "shut out from the babble of fools, and conversing only with the dumb Veracities, with the huge inarticulate moanings of Destiny, Necessity, and Eternity." When he submits to his father, he is said to be "loyal to Fact," which means that he yields to what he cannot overcome. In like manner, Democracy, "the grand, alarming, imminent, indisputable Reality," is "the inevitable Product of the Destinies :" whoever refuses to recognise that the world has come to this, is "disloyal to Fact." "All thinking men, and good citizens of their country," "have an ear for the small still voices and eternal intimations;" in other words, discern the best course that circumstances will admit of. "The eternal

regulations of the Universe," "the monition of the gods in regard to our affairs," "which, if a man know, it is well with him," are other figurative expressions to the same effect.

One of Carlyle's favourite inferior personages is Dryasdust, whom we have already introduced. He represents any and every 'historian that takes an interest in what our author finds it convenient to pronounce "dry." He is abused sometimes for knowing Rymer's Foedera' and India Bills, sometimes for knowing Court gossip. He is one of Carlyle's standing butts.

Figures of Contiguity.-If we apply this designation to every case of indicating a thing, not by its literal name, but by use of expressive parts and expressive collaterals, Carlyle luxuriates in such figures as much as in figures of similarity.

To take an instance: his metonymies for Death are as numerous as Homer's. "The all-hiding earth has received him." "Low now is Jourdan the Headsman's own head." "So dies a gigantic Heathen and Titan; stumbling blindly, undismayed, down to his rest. . . . His suffering and his working are now ended." "These also roll their fated journey." Danton "passes to his unknown home." "Our grim good-night to thee is that " (address to the German scoundrel upon his execution).

As with similitudes, so with choice circumstances, he has a way of repeating them, keeping them under the reader's notice, as often as he mentions the subject. Thus, in his pamphlet on "The Nigger Question," he is perpetually renewing the image of the "beautiful blacks sitting up to their beautiful muzzles in pumpkins." In the pamphlet on "The Present Time," he repeatedly presents the reforming Pope as "the good Pope with the New Testament in his hand." In like manner he takes hold of a title or expression that provokes his mirth, and turns it to ridicule by frequent repetition; thus he talks of Parliament as the "Collective wisdom."

Figures of Contrast are not a marked feature in his style. He has a sense of the effect of explicit contrast, and sometimes employs it as a means of strength; but his studied effects are not in the direction of sharp antithetical point.

He makes considerable use of the telling oratorical contrast, the juxtaposition of strikingly incongruous circumstances. In his Essay on Voltaire he contrasts the blazing glory of Tamerlane with the humble industry of Johannes Faust, the inventor of movable types; pointing out that the humble man's influence was in the end much the more powerful of the two. So he contrasts the loud triumphant proclamation of the Champs de Mars Federation with the signing of the Scottish Solemn League and Covenant in a dingy close of the Edinburgh High Street, and with "the frugal supper of thirteen mean-dressed men in a mean Jewish dwelling.' The 'French Revolution' is peculiarly rich in such contrasts. He

makes a fine thing of Robespierre's resigning a judgeship in his younger days because he could not bear to sentence a human creature to death. The sad end of Marie Antoinette is contrasted with her prosperous days; the tragic heroism of Charlotte Corday is made more touching by a fine description of her personal beauty. And in the "sports of fickle fortune" with many of the leading revolutionists, he finds the utmost scope for Rembrandt lights and shadows.

Epigram is not much in his way. He occasionally indulges in word-play, but it is hardly epigrammatic; it has more of an affinity with punning. His oft-repeated derivation of king—“ Kön-ning, Can-ning, or Man that is Able "-is a mixture of philology and pun. Some of his puns are less doubtful. Thus, "Certain Heathen Physical-Force Ultra-Chartists, Danes' as they were then called, coming into his territory with their five points,' or rather with their five-and-twenty thousand points and edges too-of pikes, namely, and battle-axes," &c. So he says that the Lancashire and Yorkshire factories are a monument to Richard Arkwright, " a true pyramid or flame-mountain."

Minor Figures and Figures Proper. Hyperbole.-Our author's hyperboles consist partly in the use of exaggerating similitudes, partly in unrestrained torrents of extreme epithets. His exaggerations as to the confusion and dishonesty of these "latter days," the general tumble-down and degradation of the whole system of modern society, are the most familiar specimens. "Days of endless calamity, disruption, dislocation, confusion worse confounded." "Bankruptcy everywhere; foul ignominy, and the abomination of desolation, in all high places." "Social affairs in a state of the frightfulest embroilment, and as it were of inextricable final bankruptcy, unutterable welter of tumbling ruins." "Never till now,

I think, did the sun look down on such a jumble of human nonsenses." He is conscious of this hyperbolic turn, as, indeed, he shows himself conscious of most of his peculiarities. He speaks of Teufelsdroeckh's having "unconscionable habits of exaggeration in speech."

When strong epithets, metaphors, similes, and contrasts, put in plain forms of speech, come short of the intensity of his feelings, he avails himself to an unprecedented degree of the bolder licences of style. Much of his peculiar manner is made up of the special figures of Interrogation, Exclamation, and Apostrophe.

Interrogation is a large element in his mannerism. It is not merely an occasional means of special emphasis; it is a habitual mode of transition, used by Carlyle almost universally for the vivid introduction of new agents and new events. Thus

"But on the whole, Paris, we may see, will have little to devise; will

only have to borrow and apply. And then, as to the day, what day of all the calendar is fit, if the Bastille Anniversary be not?"

After the Queen's execution, he asks, “Whom next, O Tinville?"

In like manner, recounting some of the proceedings in the Parliamentary war, he says

:

Basing is black ashes, then and Langford is ours, the Garrison to march forth to-morrow at twelve of the clock, being the 18th instant.' And now the question is, Shall we attack Dennington or not?"

With these vivid epic interrogations, there is usually, as in the above examples, a mixture of something like the figure called Vision. He supposes himself present at the deliberation of a scheme, the preparation of a great event, and suggests ideas as an interested spectator. Thus, after representing how Louis deliberated whether he should try to conciliate the people, or canvass for foreign assistance, he asks "Nay, are the two hopes inconsistent?" Again, he apostrophises the National Assembly expecting a visit from the King, with—

"Think therefore, Messieurs, what it may mean; especially how ye will get the Hall decorated a little. Some fraction of velvet carpet, cannot that be spread in front of the chair, where the Secretaries usually sit ?" One or two instances give but a faint impression of what is so prominent in his style.

Exclamation occurs in every mood. Sometimes in wonder and elation; sometimes in derision and contempt; sometimes in pity, sometimes in fun, sometimes in real admiration and affection. An example or two may be quoted. Thus-"How thou fermentest and elaboratest, in thy great fermenting-vat and laboratory of an Atmosphere, of a World, O Nature!" Many such exclamations of wonder occur in his Sartor. His exclamations of derision are addressed, not to individuals, but to imaginary personages, as when he addresses Dryasdust,-" Surely at least you might have made an index for these books;" or to collective masses, as when he exclaims of duellists-" Deuce on it, the little spitfires!" Towards individuals he seldom if ever expresses either reverential wonder on the one hand, or contempt on the other. The scenes of the French Revolution often call forth exclamations of pity and horror. "Miserable De Launay!" "Hapless Deshuttes and Varigny!" -such expressions are frequent. At times, also, we come across such exclamations as-" Horrible, in lands that had known equal justice!" As an instance of a humorous touch, take his exclamation on one of the Kaisers-"Poor soul, he had six-and-twenty children by one wife; and felt that there was need of appanages!' His expressions of admiration for his heroes are numerous. Mirabeau he exclaims-" Rare union: this man can live self-suffic

On

ing-yet lives also in the lives of other men; can make men love him, work with him; a born king of men!" Of Sterling he says"A beautiful childlike soul!" Oliver and Friedrich he frequently salutes with expressions of sympathising admiration. Sometimes, as he has a habit of doing with all his strong effects-in a kind of deprecating way he puts the exclamations into the mouths of other people "Admirable feat of strategy! What a general, this Prince Carl!' exclaimed mankind." "Magnanimous!' exclaim Noailles and the paralysed French gentleman: Most maganimous behaviour on his Prussian Majesty's part!' own they."

Apostrophe. The apostrophising habit is perhaps the greatest notability of his mannerism. His make of mind impels him to adopt this art of style, apart from his consciousness of the power it gives him as a literary artist. It provides one outlet among others for his deep-seated dramatic tendency. Farther, it suits his active turn of mind and favourite mode of the enjoyment of power; it gives scope for his daring familiarity with personages, whether for admiration or for humour, and meets with no check from any regard for offended conventionalities. Not so frequently does he address in tones of pity; still, in the moving scenes of the French Revolution, and elsewhere, some of his apostrophes are very touching.

His style in its final development affords innumerable examples. The French Revolution' is particularly full of dramatic apostrophes, as indeed of the irregular figures generally. The author sees everything with his own eyes, and addresses the actors in warning, exhortation, reproof, or whatever their actions call for. Usher Maillard is shown crossing the Bastille ditch on a plank, and warned-" Deftly, thou shifty Usher: one man already fell; and lies smashed, far down there, against the masonry!" When De Launay is massacred, the revolutionists are reproved with-"Brothers, your wrath is cruel!" "Up and be doing!" "Cour

66

age!" Quick, then!" Such ejaculations are frequent; to

every movement, in fact, he contributes the cries of an excited bystander.

As an example of his more declamatory apostrophes, take the following, which is indeed an imaginary speech :

"Away, you! begone swiftly, ye regiments of the line! in the name of God and of His poor struggling servants, sore put to it to live in these bad days, I mean to rid myself of you with some degree of brevity. To feed you in palaces, to hire captains, and schoolmasters, and the choicest spiritual and material artificers to expend their industries on you, No, by the Eternal! Mark it, my diabolic friends, I mean to lay leather on

the backs of you," &c.

--

The following is an example of his pathetic apostrophes. In the destruction of the Bastille a prisoner's letter was discovered