censuring the highly improper cut of collar and lappel; lamenting, indeed, that collar and lappel were nowhere to be seen. He pronounces the costume, easily and decisively, to be a barbarous one: to know whether it is a barbarous one, and how barbarous, the judgment of a Winkelmann might be required, and he would find it hard to give a judgment. For the questions set before the two were radically different. The Fraction asked himself: 'How will this look in Almack's, and before Lord Mahogany?' The Winkelmann asked himself: 'How will this look in the Universe, and before the Creator of Man?''(1) This, not of clothing for its own sake, but in urging Englishmen to approach the study of Goethe with sympathy that should over-ride national prejudice. It is in his translation from Richter that Carlyle is induced to use his favorite word "hull," and in a metaphorical sense, as equivalent to "body:" "Father, take thy son from this bleeding hull, and lift him to thy heart!"'(2) A little later we find the same word uttered more in Sartorian vein : "Of the Ecclesiastical Historian we have to complain ... that his inquiries turn rather on the outward mechanism, the mere hulls and superficial accidents of the object, than on the object itself."'(3) In 1831, about the time of the completion of the first draft of Sartor, its whole philosophy is condensed into a few words of praise for Hugo von Trimberg, (4) who had "light to see beyond the garments and outer hulls of Life into Life itself."(5) It is hardly worth while to quote several illustrative passages from the later essays, for, although some of them are much more striking than those given, in so far as their resemblance to Sartor is concerned, they are always open to the suspicion of having been borrowed from the patient manuscript upon the shelf, and thus being of later origin. (6) Perhaps the most striking passage of this later sort is the page-long paragraph in the essay on Goethe's Works, in which, under the clothes-figure, the difference is expounded between the man of fashion or of empty knowledge, and the man of genius, between "God-creation and tailor-creation.''(7)

(1) G 285. cf. JA 243, 3. (2) JA 241. (3) H 254. (4) SR 164,-26. (5) E GL 400. (6) Bo 130, 19: 144, 26; 189, 1-10; G W 258, 12; C C 2, 24; 33, 10; 39, 12 ff. See also B 301, 24; JA 200, 23; N L 350, and note; TS 36, 4. (7) G W 213 and 214.

cisive conquest of doubt. It is easy to push such comparisons too far, and hard to say, concerning details, what was the original suggestion of each. Thus it is probably a mere coincidence that the circumstances of Schiller's parents were like those of young Diogenes.(1) But that single uproarious laugh of Samuel Johnson's (2) is likely to have had some relation to the professorial cacchination, though not, according to Carlyle himself, the relation of cause and effect. (3) Also it may be said, as of Johnson, so of Teufelsdröckh: "Within that shaggy exterior of his, there beat a heart warm as a mother's, soft as a little child's."(4) The fact seems to be that the German professor was made by a process of gradual accretion, through years of reading, writing, observation, and inner experience.

Concerning a few smaller devices, a word may be said. The "Green Goose" tavern, a Lokal in Munich, (5) appears not only in its German guise in Sartor, but also elsewhere in plain English.(6) So with "Things in general."’(7) And there is mention of a typical being, whose satiric name suggests Hofrath Heuschrecke, and whose decorations forecast the ridiculed dandy: "The Count von Bügeleisen, so idolized by our fashionable classes, is not, as the English Swift asserts, created wholly by the tailor; but partially, also, by the supernatural Powers."(8)

That particular device which deserves to rank equal with the Professor himself is the clothes-idea; indeed, in some aspects this idea is the central point from which all the rays of Sartor diverge. It is interesting to observe, noting the essays in chronological order, how the clothes-idea gradually takes on a more and more significant phase, until in the later essays, when the completed Sartor is awaiting publication, Carlyle does not hesitate to use many of the specific applications of this idea. In 1828, about two years before Sartor was begun, the following passage appeared, which, while not distinctly hinting at the deeper aspects of the clothes philosophy, might still be a quotation from the later work: We could fancy we saw some Bondstreet tailor criticising the costume of some ancient Greek;

(1) LS 12. (2) Bo 175. (3) See M's note on S R 28, 32. (4) Bo 185. (5) M's note on SR 12, 7. (6) C C 34, 8. (7) C C 48, 29. (8) G W 213.

censuring the highly improper cut of collar and lappel; lamenting, indeed, that collar and lappel were nowhere to be seen. He pronounces the costume, easily and decisively, to be a barbarous one: to know whether it is a barbarous one, and how barbarous, the judgment of a Winkelmann might be required, and he would find it hard to give a judgment. For the questions set before the two were radically different. The Fraction asked himself: How will this look in Almack's, and before Lord Mahogany?' The Winkelmann asked himself: How will this look in the Universe, and before the Creator of Man?" This, not of clothing for its own sake, but in urging Englishmen to approach the study of Goethe with a sympathy that should over-ride national prejudice. It is in his translation from Richter that Carlyle is induced to use his favorite word "hull," and in a metaphorical sense, as equivalent to "body:" "Father, take thy son from this bleeding hull, and lift him to thy heart!"'(2) A little later we find the same word uttered more in Sartorian vein: "Of the Ecclesiastical Historian we have to complain . . . that his inquiries turn rather on the outward mechanism, the mere hulls and superficial accidents of the object, than on the object itself."(3) In 1831, about the time of the completion of the first draft of Sartor, its whole philosophy is condensed into a few words of praise for Hugo von Trimberg, (4) who had "light to see beyond the garments and outer hulls of Life into Life itself."'(5) It is hardly worth while to quote several illustrative passages from the later essays, for, although some of them are much more striking than those given, in so far as their resemblance to Sartor is concerned, they are always open to the suspicion of having been borrowed from the patient manuscript upon the shelf, and thus being of later origin. (6) Perhaps the most striking passage of this later sort is the page-long paragraph in the essay on Goethe's Works, in which, under the clothes-figure, the difference is expounded between the man of fashion or of empty knowledge, and the man of genius, between "God-creation and tailor-creation.'' (7)

(5) E GL 400.

(1) G 285. cf. JA 243. 3. (2) JA 241. (3) H 254. (4) SR 164,-26. (6) Bo 130, 19: 144, 26; 189, 1-10; G W 258, 12; C C 2. 24; 33, 10; 39, 12 ff. See also B 301, 24; JA 200, 23; N L 350, and note; TS 36, 4. (7) GW 213 and 214.

One more topic of general sort calls for brief treatment, the style in which Sartor is written. It is hardly possible, in this connection, to ignore the question of Carlyle's indebtedness to German literature in general, and to Richter in particular, although no pretence can be made to settle in a few sentences a matter of discussion that has ranged men like Froude and Lowell on opposite sides. At the one extreme stand those who champion Carlyle's originality of manner, and follow, without qualification, the author's own statement, made in conversation, that his style had its origin in his father's house. (1) At the other extreme stand those who believe that Carlyle imitated Richter, and adopted, consciously or unconsciously, certain other Germanisms into his manner. (2) Is it not possible that both these opposites, which are yet not contradictories, may be true, and the full statement of fact take account of both? Some qualities in which Carlyle resembles Richter, not mentioned by Professor MacMechan, (3) are riotous humor, occasional coarseness, (4) almost absolute sincerity, and a forbidding grotesqueness, (5) which at times seems chaotic, but which yields to the attentive reader glimpses of uplifting and unusual thought. A passage describing Richter's style, less often quoted than another, (6) is not inapplicable to Sartor: "Piercing gleams of thought do not escape, us; singular truths, conveyed in a form as singular; grotesque, and often truly ludicrous delineations; pathetic, magnificent, far-sounding passages; effusions full of wit, knowledge, and imagination, but difficult to bring under any rubric whatever; all the elements, in short, of a glorious intellect, but dashed together in such wild arrangement, that their order seems the very ideal of confusion. The style and structure of the book appear alike incomprehensible. The narrative is every now and then suspended, to make way for some 'Extra-leaf,' some wild digression upon any subject but the one in hand; the language groans with indescribable metaphors, and allusions to all things human and divine.'(7)

(1) M xlvii. So, substantially, J. A. S. Barrett, in his edition of Sartor, London, 1897, pp. 15-18. (2) See Lowell, My Study Windows, Boston, 1888, pp. 124, 126. (3) M xlviii. (4) For a combination of humor and coarseness, see S R 54 and 120. For similar qualities in Richter, see J A 235. (5) Cf N 82, 20. (6) J 13. (7) JA 224 ff. See also J A

174, 229.

Given a man by temperament predisposed to a style like Richter's, is it too much to say that the careful translation of the utterances of a kindred spirit into language which endeavored "to preserve the quaint grotesque style so characteristic" (1) of the original had its effect of confirmation, and even of addition, upon the manner of the translator? We have already shown several instances in which, to all appearances, Carlyle absorbed ideas from the congenial spirit of his German hero; (2) several other such parallels will be found in the second part of this essay. (3) And it is difficult to resist the impression that the manifest resemblance in manner between, say, Richter's fine apostrophe to Old Maids, (4) and many oratorical passages of Sartor is due, not merely to two independent and similar endowments of genius, but also to the inevitable influence which one original spirit exercises upon another. In particular Carlyle's characteristic habit of explaining his metaphors (5) is in line with Richter's corresponding attempt (6) not to leave the matter-of-fact reader in ignorance of his real meaning.

To Novalis Carlyle was indebted more for specific thoughts than for style.(7) Such minor matters as the name “Blumine'' (8) and expressions like "cry a more courageous class'' (9) are to be observed.

To Goethe Carlyle's debt is fundamental, is not properly a matter of style at all.

There is room for a persisting difference of opinion as to how far the study of the German language really influenced Carlyle's style, and how far he was, for the special purposes of Sartor, "at pains to give a German coloring" to it. (10) Certainly, there was no extraneous inducement to be Germanic in the earlier essays. Perhaps Carlyle's favorite diminutive ending "-kin" was suggested to him by the German "-chen," although his share in the Scotch genius for such endings helps to account for such phrases as "vehement shrew-mouse squeaklets." The absence of a conjunction, too, is sometimes sug

(1) JR 28. (2) See above pp. 6, 7, 9, 14. (3) See citations on S R 1, 19; 47, 3-5; 90, 1; 102, 28; 155, 10; 161, 17, etc. (4) JA 236. (5) As S R 170, 9; 212, 9-16; 244, 31 ff. (6 JA 234, 26, 28. (7) M's notes on SR 138. 3; 177, 14: 200, 3; 207, 15; 217, 15. See also passages below, cited on S R 61, 20; 169, 14; 176, 16 and 17; 177, 14. (8) N 132. Novalis Schriften, Berlin, 1826, vol. I. p. 5: "die blaue Blume." (9) N 118, cf SR 232, 25. Novalis Schriften, vol. II, p. 55: "Wohl, sagen Muthigere." (10) M xliv. (1) Bo 115, 4