Carson daily appeal. [volume] (Carson City, Nev.) 1873-1877, 1875-10-03
THOMAS CARLYLE AT HOME

Down comes Thomas Carlyle from his
sanc,um into the hallway gray
whiskered old man with eyes half closed,
as If bordering over some mental alb.
str action and shutting out the external
world. He placed upon the table a
long clay pipe. from which he had been
raising a cloud OF smoke, and took up
one Of half dozen felt hats, with as
broad brim as yon see or a Colorado
ranchman's head. His clothing was of
the coarsest Scotch twill, and, like a
! quake-'s suit, was gray and Of one
color. His Goa: reached below his
knees.
lymph, Who are you?" he at length
said. when his brother remarked that
somebody was standing near by.
Sir. am one OF the multitude in
America who having read "a few OF voIr
works, have long had desire 10 call On
YOU"
After the usual courticies. l e1-
planned to him tina: my wish in seeing
him had now been gratiied, and that
would most respectfully bid him good
afternoon. Another grunt was the
only reply. While bowling my way OF:
he stopped me with the remark: Il
am going to walk Come with me- :"
l went. He started off a. good pace.
with his hands behind him and his head
slightly inclined. When after a few
moments, 1 ven.ured a question. be
answered it in the old Socratic fashion
by asking a dozen. He wished to know
about the United States, our churches,
our colleges, our public men. Most
great men when you enter their pres
ence inspire you with their greatness.
and either by word or iutimation reveal
their virtues. Thomas Carlyle is
conspicuous exception. 1t was with
difficulty that 1 could get him to talk
of himself or get his views on questions
OF the day. Germany, he at length
said. was in state of theological
tradition. Dogma was yielding to the
fact. The Christian Church was chang
ing, but the grand truths of Christianity
were una!terable. In the hands of
Bismark, the chiefest statesman of the
age, its progress was as certain as the
rising of to-morrow's sun. Nothing was
to be feared With England there was
more smoke than fire in the air. By
Carlyle. plain Scotchman, reared in
the good old Presbyterian fashion, the
new movements in the ritualistic party
of the Established Church were re-
garded with dislike; but the points in
dispute were trivial and should vanish
when weightier problems remain IN
solved. He spoke somewhat slightingly
of Gladstone and his recently published |
He had watched him as he |
changed from high Troy to most !
Radical. Gladstone s gravest |
fault, thought Carlyle. was that he |
looked exclusively a; the side issues of
great questions. He recognised the
bearings and appearances. not the
underlying fact; and fact, he contin-
ued. was divine revelation, and be who
acted contrary to it sinned against God.
as Gladstone only politician?" I
asked. Much worse" was the answer,
'for he always acts the politician with
he wisdom of a stateman.
Here we approached street crossing.
When half way over Mr.. Carlyle
stopped, and stopping down
picked something out of the mud, at
he risk of being run over by one of the
many carriages In the street. With his
,are hands he brushed the mud off and
'laced the white substance in a clean
pot on the curbstone. THAT" said
Ie, in tone as sweet and words as
eautiful as I ever heard, sis only a
rust Of bread. Yet WAS taught by my
bother never to waste, and, above all,
read more precious than gold, the
ubstance that is the same to
be body that the mind is to the soul.
am sure the little sparrow or a hungry
og will get nourishment from that bit OF
read. Clarance ". Bouen in the
adependent.