Arnold; and hearing that Carlyle would be passing Rugby, he begged him to pause on the way, when they could examine Naseby field together.

Carlyle, on his side, had much personal respect for the great Arnold--for Arnold himself as a man, though very little for his opinions. He saw men of ability all round him professing orthodoxy and holding office in the Church, while they regarded it merely as an institution of general expediency, with which their private convictions had nothing to do. Such men aimed only at success in the world, and if they chose to sell their souls for it, the article which they parted with was of no particular value. But Arnold was of a higher stamp. While a Liberal in politics and philosophy, and an historical student, he imagined himself a real believer in the Christian religion, and Carlyle was well assured that to men of Arnold's principles it had no ground to stand on, and that the clear-sighted among them would, before long, have to choose between an honest abandonment of an untenable position and a trifling with their own understandings, which must soon degenerate into conscious insincerity. Arnold, Carlyle once said to me, was happy in being taken away before the alternative was forced upon him. He died, in fact, six weeks after the visit of which the following letter contains the account.

To Mrs. Aitken, Dumfries.

Chelsea: May 10, 1842.

I had from Scotsbrig appointed to pause about seventy miles from London, and pay a visit to a certain Oxford dignitary of distinction, one Dr. Arnold, Master of Rugby School. I would willingly have paid five pounds all the day

to be honourably off; but it clearly revealed itself to me. 'thou should'st veritably go,' so at Birmingham I booked myself and went. Right well that I did so, for the contrary would have looked like the work of a fool; and the people all at Rugby were of especial kindness to me, and I was really glad to have made their acquaintance. Next day they drove me over some fifteen miles off to see the field of Naseby fight-Oliver Cromwell's chief battle, or one of his chief. It was a grand scene for me-Naseby. A venerable hamlet, larger than Middlebie, all built of mud, but trim with high peaked roofs, and two feet thick of smooth thatch on them, and plenty of trees scattered round and among. It is built as on the brow of the Hagheads at Ecclefechan; Cromwell lay with his back to that, and King Charles was drawn up as at Wull Welsh's-only the Sinclair burn must be mostly dried, and the hollow much wider and deeper. They flew at one another, and Cromwell ultimately brashed him all to roons.' I plucked two gowans and a cowslip from the burial heaps of the slain, which still stand as heaps, but sunk away in the middle. At seven o'clock they had me home again, dinnered, and off in the last railway train.

CHAPTER X.

A.D. 1842. ET. 47.

Return to London-Sees the House of Commons-Yachting trip to Ostend-Bathing adventure-Church at Bruges-Hotel at GhentReflections on modern music-Walk through the town-A lace girl— An old soldier-Artisans at dinner-The 'Vigilant' and her crewVisit from Owen-Ride in the Eastern counties-Ely CathedralSt. Ives-Past and Present.

THE season was not over when Carlyle was again at home after his long absence, but the sad occupations of the spring, and the sad thoughts which they had brought with them, disinclined him for society. The summer opened with heat. He had a room arranged for him at the top of his house at the back, looking over gardens and red roofs and trees, with the river and its barges on his right hand, and the Abbey in the distance. There he sate and smoked, and read books on Cromwell, the sight of Naseby having brought the subject back out of the abysses.' Forster's volumes were not sent back to him. Visitors were not admitted, or were left to be entertained in the drawing-room.

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June 17.

I sit here (he wrote to his mother), and think of you many a time and of all imaginable things. I say to myself, Why should'st thou not be thankful? God is good; all

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THE BULLER FAMILY.

257

this life is a heavenly miracle, great, though stern and sad.' Poor Jane and her cousin sit in the low room which extends through the whole breadth of the house, and has windows on both sides. There they sew, read, see company, and keep it out of my way. Poor Jane is still very sad, takes fits of crying, and is perhaps still more sorrowful when she does not cry. I try to get her advised out as much as possible. John Sterling is come to London for these two weeks, home from Italy. He will be a new resource to her; she seems to get no good of anything but the sympathy of her friends.

Of these friends the most actively anxious to be kind were Mr. and Mrs. Charles Buller, with whom Carlyle had been at Kinnaird. Their eldest son, Charles, who had been his pupil, was now in the front rank in the House of Commons. Reginald, the youngest, had a living at Troston, in Suffolk, with a roomy parsonage. His father and mother had arranged to spend July and August there, and they pressed Mrs. Carlyle to go with them for change of scene. Mrs. Carlyle gratefully consented. She liked Mrs. Buller, and the Bullers' ways suited her. It was settled that they were to go first, and she was to follow. Carlyle's own movements were left doubtful. He, after so long an interruption of his work, did not wish to move again immediately; but he was very grateful to Mrs. Buller for her kindness to his wife, and when she asked him in return to go to the House of Commons to hear her son speak, he could not refuse. He had never been there before; I believe he never went again; but it was a thing to see once, and though the sight did not inspire him with reverence, he was amused, and wrote an account of it to his mother.

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Mrs. Buller made me go the other night to the House of Commons to hear Charles speak on the Scotch Churchquestion. The Scotch Church question was found to be in a wrong condition as to form, and could not come on till the 5th of July. It struck me as the strangest place I had ever sat in, that same house. There was a humming and bustling, so that you could hear nothing for the most part; the members all sitting with their hats on talking to one another, coming and going. You only saw the Speaker, a man in an immense powdered wig, in an old-fashioned elevated chair; and half heard him mumbling Say Aye, Say No. The Ayes have it;' passing Bills which nobody except one or two specially concerned cared a fig about, or was at pains to listen to. When a good speaker rose, or an important man, they grew a little more silent, and you could hear. Peel was there and on his feet. Poor Peel! he is really a clever-looking man-large substantial head, Roman nose, massive cheeks with a wrinkle, half smile, half sorrow on them, considerable trunk and stomach, sufficient stubborn-looking short legs; altogether an honest figure of a man. He had a dark-coloured surtout on, and cotton trousers of blue striped jean. A curious man to behold under the summer twilight.

This single glance into the legislative sanctuary satisfied Carlyle's curiosity. Once, in after years, on some invitation from a northern borough, he did for a moment contemplate the possibility of himself belonging to it; but it was for a moment only, and then with no more than a purpose of telling Parliament his opinion of its merits. For it was his fixed conviction that in that place lay not the strength of England, but the weakness of England, and that in time it would become a question which of the two would strangle the life out of the other. Of the debating department in the management of the affairs of this country he never spoke without contempt. In