The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-04-01

rest.
You. mar Of humorous melancholy mark,
Dead OF some inward agony-s 1t soY
Our kindlier, trustier Jacques passed away
] cannot laud this life, 1t looks so dark
Skid0 ~ondr-dream OF q shadow, go.
God bless you. 1 shall Join you In a day
Mrs. Brookheld, her husbands junior by
twelve years, survived him by twenty. we
are told that up to her death, in 1895, she re-
tanned tho lustre OF her eyes. her beautiful
voice and her winning personality. Her state
ly, picturesque figure was for many years one
OF the most pleasing sights Of the West End
Of London. Her influence over the people
arose not 30 much, perhaps, from her
beauty, though this, no doubt, cooperated'
as from her noble presence and winning
sympathy. Gifted with a fine wit n ad-
mirable power Of expression, she possessed
also q charming faculty which enabled her
to listen with engaging interest to others
Having graduated In the best possiole
school Of conversation, and having also had
a rich experience Of men and things, she had
IN unfailing fund Of aneOdote. Nor could
any one tell a story better, as she possessed
the clearest MEM rv for details, as we'll asan
exquisite choice Of words. Tennyson, Sped
ding, and Kinglake remained her dear
Trends I'LL thelr death.
We have found In these volumes some
fifty or sixty references to Carlyle, some
of which, however. are cursory, andscaroely
worth recalling. There Ia, however, an
account Of Brookfeld's dining with the
Carlyles on Christmas Day, 1852, which
presents the Sage Of Chelsea In an amiable
light. On his way to see the Henry Taylors
at Mortlake, Brookfeld resolved to stop and
bid Merry Christmas to the Carlyles. Mrs.
c. was at home; and while we sat chatting,
the Moralist himself and q friend went out
at the front door, The servant was des-
patched by Mrs. @. to call him back to shake
hands with me. He Instantly returned,
introduced his friend, ohatted q bit. advised
me how to proceed to the H. Taylors',
about which small everyday practical
matters he always shows lots Of practical
common sense. " " / begged him
to go out for q walk, and eaid that / would
sit awhile with Mrs. Carlyle, and away he
went. Soon after he had gone she asked
where was I to dine. oh. ! was going to
dine at home Well, but wouldn't I stay
and eat with them at S o'olock-they had
no dinner but mutton, and no company
but Thai cousin who went up in q balloon for
science. I said It was q temptation ! felt
neither any call nor power to resist-and I
would give up Mortlake, take half an hours
walk, and be there again at S. Brook
field returned before 5, and Carlyle came in
a few minutes afterward; and SO, coming
into the room where his friend sat, and
hearing that the latter was to stay, he put
out his hand, and with genial, hospitable
face, said: well, you're a glorious fellow
that's right" DO. The other interrupted
with some playful palaver about being the
envy Of some millions Of people that day,
and so they settled down to dinner. Brook
field noted In his diary how his [Carlyle'sl
language fell into commonplace conven-
tionality when he had his heart engaged
by a common ard almost universal feel
ing. WelEyou're a glorious fellow
No originality-no invention in this, He
might have said something humorous or
chara cteristio. A bit of banter or a bit Of
compliment would not have been unnatural.
1t was simply what a ~schoolboy would
have said who was really pleased. The
repast-for these details about human life
are always aids to realizing any scene
was soup. followed by a haunch of Won
derfully rilliputian but good mutton, with
potatoes. Carlyle either felt or affected
humorous despair at having to carve this
Joint, and consulted me, finally turning it
over to me. I said the proper way of cut
ting a haunch was so and so; but that had
been defeated by the peculiar way in which
a Welsh butcher had cut up the sheep, more
like a heather priest than a Christian
butcher. 'Ah,' said Mrs. c., it's not the
butchers fault; it was to have been only a
leg, but, when you agreed to stay, the loin
was added" We are told that Carlyle
now and then put a bit Of what he thought
one ought to like-of leg, Of loin, or Of fat
on his guests plate, with a sort Of genial,
homely hospitality which was touching.
There was nut brown ale from a neighbor-
ing tavern, with port ard sherry, to which
Mrs. Carlyle added a bottle Of excellent
Madeira. Meanwhile the talk was inces-
SAINT, but remarkable for nothing but cheeri-
ness. Then oame woodoock, and finally a
Christmas plum pudding with brandy
sauce. After dinner and wine, Carlyle and
Brookfeld adjourned upstairs for a pipe
of York River tobacco-over which he
talked chara cteristically, chiefly about edu-
cation. Then downstairs to tea, and 80 at
10 O'Clock the day came to an end.
In 1855 Brookield spent the Christmas
holidays at the Grange, Lord Ashburton's
seat, and most Of the habitues lex cept
Thackeray, who was in America) were
present. These were the literary men,
among whom Carlyle customarily played
the part Of Leo Major, and whom Lady
Jersey used to call Lady Ashburton's
printers" Those who are familiar with
the story Of the Carlyles will remember
that Mrs. Carlyle was extremely annoyed at
the admiration, not to say devotion, which
Lady Ashburton did not hesitate to ex-
hibit to Carlyle. 1t seems that on this
particular Christmas Lady Ashburton n
suited Mrs. Brookfeld as 10 what would be
most useful to give to Mrs. Carlyle as a gift
from the Christmas tree, and a silk dress
was finally decided upon. This present
angered the recipient not a little. She
would not take it: she vowed she was being
insulted, and Lady Ashburton at last was
forced to seek her in her room and assure
her with tears in her eyes that she had not
meant to offend. Mrs. Brookfeld de-
scribes Mrs. Carlyle as very slight, neat,
erect in figure, animated in expression,
with very good eyes and teeth, but with no
pretension to beauty. She says she used
to remain In her own room during the early