The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1881-02-12 00:00:00

DEATH OF MR. CARLYLE.

The death of Mr. Carlyle took place at his residence
in Cheyne-row, Chelsea, on Saturday morning, the
sth inst. Mr. Carlyle, whose serious condition had
attracted public attention for several days, became
unconscious on Friday evening, and so remained
until he breathed his last.

Thomas Carlyle was born on December 4, 1795, in
the parish of Middlebie, near, Ecclefechan, in the
district of Annandale, Dumfriesshire. The plain
stone house in which his father dwelt still stands,
and has often in later years been visited by the
great man who was born beneath its humble roof.
His father, who at first combined the occupations of
stonemason and architect, but afterwards devoted
himself to farming, was a man of pronounced cha-
racter. His sayings were remembered by his neigh-
bours and repeated many years after his death, which
occurred in 1833. Mr. Carlyle's mother was a person
of beauty, as well as of fine intellectual endow-
ments. She was mild and affectionate in her
nature, and of an inquiring disposition. There is
good reason to believe that she first suggested to her
son that new estimate of the character of Cromwell
which he was the first to lay before the world. He was
fond of dwelling on the virtues of his mother, but
thought she was "entirely too peaceable and pious
for this planet," and he deplored some sad results of
her enjoining non-resistance upon him at school. She
lived until the year 1853.
First educated in his native village, then at the
Grammar School of Annan, six miles distant, Carlyle
carried with him to College a smattering of Latin and
Greek, and a sound knowledge of mathematics. At
fourteen years of age he entered the University of
Edinburgh. His companion here, as in the Annan
school, was Edward Irving, about three years his
senior. Both of them were particularly fond of mathe-
matics, in which Carlyle excelled. During his college
years Mr. Carlyle was not distinguished by the pro-
fessors as the student most devoted to the studfes
of the curriculum, but he was known among the
students as far beyond any of them in the
extent of his reading. He left college at
the age of twenty-two, having abandoned the idea of
entering the ministry, for which he had been intended
by his parents; and, after a couple of years spent in
tuition, he determined to devote himself to literature.
During a brief sojourn in London, he wrote the "Life
of Schiller, which ran in the London Magazine, from
October, 1823, to September, 1824, and also translated
"Wilhelm Meisters Wanderjahre." This masterly
translation called upon it the condemnation of De
Quincey and Jeffrey, but it made many aware that a
new and vigorous hand was at work. This was soon
followed by four volumes, published in Edinburgh
(1827), entitled "German Romance: Specimens of
the Chief Authors, with Biographical and Oritical
notices "--"a book of translations," as the author still
Nyro.te thirty years later, "not of my suggesting or
aesiring, but of my executing as honest journey work
in defect of better." On his -return to Edinburgh Mr.
Carlyle devoted himself to the writing of articles for
the Edinbiorgh and other Reviews, and these attracted
a great deal of attention. They were written with an
emphasis so novel, and upon subjects which, though
beginning to interest English readers, were so little
understood, that it was impossible they should not be
felt.

Having married in 1827, Carlyle resided chiefly at
Craigenputtock, a small estate belonging to his wife.
It was in this seclusion he wrote " Sartor Resartus,"
which appeared in 1833 in Fraser's Magazine. In the
same year Mr. Carlyle, after a few visits, went to
reside in London, and fired his home at 5 (now 24),
Great Cheyne-row, Chelsea, where he continued after-
wards to reside. Near him at that time lived his friend
Daniel Maclise, the artist, who sketched the portrait of
him which appeared in Fraser in 1835. Near him also
lived at one time one to whom he was always a true
friend, Leigh Hunt, who had good reason for writing
as he did, "I believe that what Mr. Carlyle loves
better than his fault-finding, with all its eloqueice, is
the face of any human creature that looks suffering,
and loving and sincere." Here, too, it was that the
long and faithful friendship which subsisted between
him and John Sterling began and continued until it
was ended by death. And, indeed, there have been
few young scholars or authors in London since the
year in which Mr. Carlyle went to London who have
not had sacred and happy associations with that
house in Chelsea.

There is little doubt that, had he trained himself for
that purpose, Mr. Carlyle might have been remark-
able as an orator. This was indeed the impression of
many who listened to his lectures. Of these the earliest
were a series of six on German literature t delivered at
Willis's Rooms in 1837; and in each of the three fol-
lowing years a course was given at the Literary Institu-
tion, these being on the "History of Literature, or the
Successive Periods of European Culture," "The Revo-
lutions of Modern Europe," and on "Heroes and Hero-
Worship."

The last great work of Mr. Carlyle's life was his
'History of Frederick the Great. • Nearly fifteen
years he devoted to this work, which alone would be a
worthy moAument of any man's genius. He frequently
declared to his friends that he entered upon this work
from a sense that it was a task which called him, and
that he could hardly have undertaken it had he known
the difficulties surrounding it.
One of the most interesting incidents in the life of
Mr. Carlyle was his installation as Lord Rector of
the University of Edinburgh in 1866; a position to
which he had been elected by a large majority over
Mr. Disraeli. When Mr. Carlyle appeared on that occa-
sion he was surrounded by many of his old friends, and
indeed some of his younger friends from London were
present also—among these Professors Tyndall ttnd
Huxley, who at the same 'time received honorary
degrees (Mr. Carlyle had been offered the degrees of
L L.D., but declined it).

The death of Mrs. Carlyle in 1866, while Mr.
Carlyle was in Scotland revisiting his old home after
his inaugural address as Lord Rector of Edinburgh
University, called forth many sympathetic expres-
sions and remembrances, which showed how happy he
had been in relations wherein great men are too often
unfortunate. Her tomb in the ruined choir of the old
cathedral at Haddington bears the following inscrip-
tion
In her bright existence she had more sorrows than are
common, but also a soft invincibility, a capacity of discern-
ment, and a noble loyalty of heart which are rare. For
forty years she was the true and loving helpmate of her
husband, and by act and word unweariedly forwarded him,
as none else could, in all of worthy that he did or at-
tempted. She died at London, 21st April, 1866, suddenly
snatched away from him, and the light of his life as if gone
out.

Thet death of Mrs. Carlyle did not destroy her be-
reaved husband's courage, nor were the customs of
his Chelsea home altered. He was very fond of walk-
ing, and up to his eightieth year his well-known form
might frequently be seen in Hyde-park. But strength
for the walks failed at last, iind the brougham. its
window open in all weathers, had to be employed.
But at length even this had to be relinquished; and
his strenth gradually decayed, until the eloquent voice
sank into silence, only broken by the gentle intima-
tioh to his relatives that he was in no pain, and his
whispered "Good-bye."

In reviewing Mr. Carlyle's life, The Times remarks
It was knowing Mr. Carlyle imperfectly to know him only
by his books. One must have talked with him, or, to be
more accurate, allowed him to talk, in order to understand
how his influence had burnt itself so deep into all men who
knew him well. In his prime, strangers of all sorts came
from the ends of the earth to the little house at Chelsea, just
tear this genial Timon inveigh and harangue against shams,
wWsvries, and other customary themes. His talk was in many
respects like his writings—equally picturesque, vehement, lit
up with wayward flashes of humour, abounding in song-like
refrains, rarely falling into those ingeniously grotesque
entanglements of phraseology which disfigure his later
pages, and set off by his homely Scotch accent, rugged,
peasant-like as the day when first he quitted Niths-
dale. There were not many greater pleasures than to
sit by his armchair and hear him tell, as he loved to
tell, when years came on, of old Annandale folk or
ways, or descant on his favourite themes, turnbag round
sharply every now and then upon the listener while
he uttered some crashing dogma, such as " Lies—lies are
the very devil." There have been men of more astonishing
powers of talk—men with more varied information at their
command; men who could quote chapter and verse in a
way which leas lot distinctive of him. But Mr. Carlyle 's
talk had a charm of its own which no one could resist. He
put so much genius, so much of himself, so much aggresive
fervour into a talk with a friend or a stranger who was to
his mind. It was natural to him, as natural as it was to
Dr. Johnson, to talk well. . . .

The Morning Post says :—" The son of a small Scotch
farmer, Thomas Catlyle dies regretted and mourned by an
entire nation. His literary works all bear the impress of
the writer's own characteristics—originality, talent, grim
humour, eccentric dictiom, pathos, and force." After re-
ferring to his willing acceptance of the Civil Class of the
Prussian Hoyal Order of Merit, the Morning Post makes the
characteristic observation that "the whimsical nature of the
man soon after induced him to refuse the offer of the Grand
Cross of the Bath, which most Englishmen would prefer to
any foreign order."