when you can lead any woman, with kisses and coaxing, from Dan to Beersheba. Fall in line, Mr. Tornado!" And so we marched on-Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I-to the next block, where Mrs. Scragge sat reading a letter, crossed and recrossed, after the horrible manner of women. "Such a sad case!" she said, looking at the Fool Catcher; "but, of course, you have heard. I always felt there was something about that woman that was to be distrusted. How can people do such things, Mr. Fool Catcher ?" "Circumstances alter cases," returned the Fool Catcher, sententiously. "I do not think they do," cried Mrs. Scragge, virtuously. "I do not consider any circumstances an excuse for such things. I have never pretended to be better than other women; but, Mr. Fool Catcher, you might bring me what circumstances you like, and it would make no difference with me; not an atom." The Fool Catcher waved his hand toward our ranks. well-starched shirt-bosom and a heavy mustache to be refinement and bravery. And so we marched on-the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I-till we found old Cruet, dropping gall as usual. "Hear the fellow!" said the Fool Catcher, as Cruet ran up to Dr. Honiwell. "Good-morning, Doctor! I congratulate you, Sir. I see your son has graduated at last; and, for my part, let people talk as they like about young Cresses, I never fancied such precocious development. Ah! Mr. Besom! why, I was thinking of you. I have just seen your new house, Sir. Pity there wasn't a varnish of time, and ready-grown moss, to be had with other building materials. A spiteful neighborhood like yours will have its fling, you know, at new people. Miss Cresses, how ill you look! what has become of that fine bloom that I used to praise a year ago? My dear Hodein, why I am meeting all my friends this morning! So you have an article in the Saga; and, by-theby, what a wretched number that was! Pity, too; its editor never pays, if he can help it. "Fall in line, Madam! You are as wise as a baby that is sure the candle will not burn its fingers:" securing, in the same breath, an edi-Now-" tor, whom he had caught among the prophets. and will, one day, give it all to you to drink!" "Fall in line," said the Fool Catcher, laying And so we marched on-the Editor, Mrs. a heavy hand on Cruet's shoulders. "I rememScragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nul- ber, Sir, that Heaven reckons up each drop of lus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tan-gall that you distill for your fellow-creatures, dem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I— to-well-really, there are times, and persons, and things about which one should have discretion-let us say that it was Dash, who was observing, in an unctuous, comfortable way, to three bony women in print gowns: And so we marched on-Cruet, the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I-and found old Mene, "I don't deny that it is hard, my good la-peeping into a kettle, boiling on the range in dies, but it is undoubtedly the will of God, be- his own kitchen, and lecturing Mrs. Mene and cause, whatever is, is right; so that, in my opin- the cook. ion, the powerful effort that is now being made to alter your status, is a direct flying in the face of Providence. It is painful individually, but, no doubt, that is a wise provision that makes the condition of working women as uncomfortable as possible, since, were it otherwise, women might be tempted to revolt against their natural protectors, and make themselves independent of men." "My good Dash!" cried the Fool Catcher, twirling that worthy about on his own steps like a top, "if there was a custom of horsewhipping, daily, all fat, pompous men like you, would you consider it an ordinance of God or a device of man? and when you have a fever, do you not think that a doctor and medicines is so much flying in the face of Providence? since, though the fever may bear individually hard on you, doubtless a wise provision made fevers possible for mankind, especially in the spring. Fall in line, Dash!" at the same time pouncing on what he called Similar Cases-a young man, who insisted that a fine head of blonde hair and a pair of pink cheeks were a sweet temper and a good heart, and a young lady, who believed a "Mrs. Mene, I thought I ordered this fish to be kept till to-morrow, and a picked-up dinner for to-day! There was nothing left,' Mrs. Mene? Do you mean to tell me there was nothing left? And a pudding! Mrs. Mene, will you look here? The woman is making a pudding! Fish, and a pudding, together! Burning out the candle at both ends! And you talking about new hats for the children! There must be some old things in the house. Look them up, look them up, Mrs. Mene, and set the pudding away, do you hear? Fish, and pudding, in one day! indeed! "Here is an idiot," said the Fool Catcher, with strong disgust. "You should have married a five-dollar note, Sir. It would have cost you nothing, and you need never have spent it. Fall in line, Mr. -; but hush, what is that?" And listening, we heard Mrs. Worreit. "Oh, yes! I get the woman, my dear, at little or nothing. She has neither home nor friends, and is glad of a shelter; and she is not aware of her own value. She is a perfect seamstress; has taste and judgment, and I should pay two dollars a-day for the work that I get out of her at a dollar a week. As you say, I "Ah! Madam;" cried the Fool Catcher, suddenly stepping in before her, "as I told Mr. Cruet, Heaven is in account with you, and of such as you will exact usury on every penny that you have gained or saved out of the poor and afflicted, and you will find it a fearful debt to pay. Fall in line, Madam. You are pennywise and soul-foolish." So we marched on-Mrs. Worreit, Mr. Mene, Cruet, the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I-when we met Miss Blew, in a dingy, rumpled gown, and the ugliest bonnet that could be bought for money. "You are a pretty Fool Catcher!” cried Miss Blew, scornfully scanning our line. "A man or two to save appearances, and all the rest to go free. But wait till the new order of things comes about. Then we may have a female Fool Catcher, and men may get their deserts for their meanness, stupidity, obstinacy, ugliness, pettiness, tyranny, malice, and abuse of women generally. I only wish they would make me Fool Catcher," she said, grimly, curving her fingers like claws. has been millions of times asserted, but never once proved. Let-" “Fall in line, Madam!” interrupted the Fool Catcher, who had listened with something like interest. "There are grains of wheat in all this chaff, but common-sense might teach you that when you deliberately make yourself as unbearable to men as possible they will very naturally suppose you the fruit of the system you advocate, and as naturally oppose it, when you stand in need of their sympathy and hearty co-operation, instead." And so we marched on - Miss Blew, Mrs. Worreit, Mr. Mene, Cruet, the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I till the Fool Catcher stopped us to listen to Mrs. Gnat. "There, Gnat!" she was saying, "just like you! Forgot it, of course! You wouldn't have forgotten it if Mrs. Walliker had asked you! Toiling and slaving, you say! I suppose you expect to have a wife and daughters for nothing, Sir. I suppose you would like us to turn our old gowns, and wear them the year through. Mimy extravagant! as Laura Walliker! ting at your desk! as if you cared for counting-room." She don't dress as well Always talking about sitWhere would you sit? or any thing outside of your "Yes, but he might have cared for his home," "Is the new order of things at hand?" asked said the Fool Catcher, softly. the Fool Catcher, quietly. "No; nor won't be," snapped Miss Blew, "till women pluck up a spirit. Men are like donkeys-" "But, my dear Madam, you can lead your donkeys better with thistles than sticks. Tact, and conciliation-" "You are lazy, Gnat," pursued the lady, "or you would be willing to escort your daughters about, poor things! You would, if you had natural affection. Worn down! Well, I am worn down, I should think, with a house, and three daughters, and six servants, to oversee! But I sacrifice myself; I go till I am fit to drop!" "What a pity that the Gnats are not given to the Tornados!" said the Fool Catcher, stepping forward with his customary formula of "Fall in line, Mrs. Gnat." And so we marched on-Mrs. Gnat, Miss Blew, Mrs. Worreit, Mr. Mene, Cruet, the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I-till we overtook Mrs. Pharisee, entangled in a crowd about a miserable woman caught in the act of filching an apronful of beans. "Have been tried for the last six thousand years!" screamed Miss Blew. "Men are to tyrannize over us, because it is unfeminine to show temper and resist; and we are to look pretty, because men like pretty faces; and wear neat gowns, because men like neatness in women. But if we only get a dinner semi-occasionally, we must not mention it, because the only remedy is, more trades and more wages; and as it tickles men's vanity to think that he is the centre of woman's universe, and that in him she lives, and moves, and has her being, the best he can do for working women, who live and move in themselves, if at all, is to wink at their existence, and continually hold them up as dreadful A movement of the crowd brought Mrs. Phariexamples of what may happen to women with- see and the woman face to face. Mrs. Pharisee out his protection; telling us, meanwhile, how was fresh, clean, and spotless, from her stockfeeble we are in muscle and endurance, and ings to her collar. Her face was fresh and how inferior in judgment and talents. But spotless also, with here and there a line-for when the painter drew the lion at the feet of Mrs. Pharisee was not young-but lightly drawn the man the lion said that he should have by small anxieties. The woman, though ten placed the figures differently. It makes a differ- years younger than Mrs. Pharisee, looked older, ence who tells the story. Give us as thorough so haggard, ragged, and begrimed was she. and sensible an education as you do men, as No stronger contrast could have been made. fair a chance, and as desirable a prospect, and Mrs. Pharisee was proper; the woman was recklet us demonstrate our inferiority. So far it less. Mrs. Pharisee was neat; the woman was 1 filthy. Mrs. Pharisee was on her way to evening prayers; and the woman had just stolen beans, for her children, she said, looking halfimploringly at Mrs. Pharisee. 66 "And you see where your theft has brought you and them," said Mrs. Pharisee, answering her look. 'Why will people be bad, when, in these days of light and of the dispensation of the Gospel, it is just as easy to be good?" The Fool Catcher choked. "Fall in line!" he gasped, when he had recovered breath. "If all the virtues and proprieties have been able to make nothing better of you than this, I wonder what you would have developed had you been born, like this woman, not to days of light, but to days of darkness; not to the dispensation of the Gospel, but to the dispensation of the devil! Fall in line, Mrs. Pharisee." And so we marched on-Mrs. Pharisee, Mrs. Gnat, Miss Blew, Mrs. Worreit, Mr. Mene, Cruet, the Similar Cases, Dash, the Editor, Mrs. Scragge, Tornado, the Hon. Mr. Boreas, Nullus, Mrs. Merrywell, Miss Sharpe, young Tandem, Mrs. La Place, the Fool Catcher, and I. funeral song: "But for him I had never known what the communion of man with man means. His was the freest, brotherliest, bravest human soul mine ever came in contact with. I call him on the whole the best man I have ever, after trial enough, found in this world, or now hope to find." In a very few minutes after the doors were opened the large hall was filled in every part, and when up the central passage the Principal, the Lord Rector, the Members of the Senate, and other gentlemen advanced toward the platform, the cheering was vociferous and hearty. The Principal occupied the chair of course, the Lord Rector on his right, the Lord Provost on his left. When the platform gentlemen had taken their seats every eye was fixed on the Rector. To all appearance, as he sat, time and labor had dealt tenderly with him. His face had not yet lost the country bronze which he brought up with him from Dumfries-shire as a student fiftysix years ago. His long residence in London had not touched his Annandale look, nor had it -as we soon learned-touched his Annandale accent. His countenance was striking, homely, sincere, truthful-the countenance of a man on whom "the burden of the unintelligible world" had weighed more heavily than on most. hair was yet almost dark; his mustache and short beard were iron gray. His eyes were wide, melancholy, sorrowful; and seemed as if they had been at times aweary of the sun. His CARLYLE AT EDINBURGH. DINBURGH has no University Hall, and accordingly, when speech-day approached, the largest public room in the city was chartered by the University authorities. This public room | Altogether in his aspect there was something -the Music Hall in George Street-will contain, under severe pressure, from eighteen hundred to nineteen hundred persons, and tickets to that extent were secured by the students and members of the General Council. On the day of the address the doors of the Music Hall were besieged long before the hour of opening had arrived; and loitering about there on the outskirts of the crowd, one could not help glancing curiously down Pitt Street, toward the "lang toun of Kirkcaldy," dimly seen beyond the Forth-for on the sands there, in the early years of the century, Edward Irving was accustomed to pace up and down solitarily, and "as if the sands were his own," people say, who remembered, when they were boys, seeing the tall, ardent, black-haired, swift-gestured, squinting man, often enough. And to Kirkcaldy too, as successor to Edward Irving in the Grammar School, came young Carlyle from Edinburgh College, wildly in love with German and mathematics-and the school-room in which these men taught, although incorporated in Provost Swan's manufactory, is yet kept sacred and intact, and but little changed these fifty yearsan act of hero-worship for which the present and other generations may be thankful. It seemed to me that so glancing Fife-ward, and thinking of that noble friendship-of the David and Jonathan of so many years gone-was the best preparation for the man I was to see and the speech I was to hear. David and Jonathan! Jonathan stumbled and fell on the dark hills not of Gilboa, but of Vanity; and David sang his aboriginal, as of a piece of unhewn granite, which had never been polished to any approved pattern, whose natural and original vitality had never been tampered with. In a word, there seemed no passivity about Mr. Carlyle-he was the diamond, and the world was his pane of glass; he was a graving tool rather than a thing graven upon a man to set his mark on the world-a man on whom the world could not set its mark. And just as, glancing toward Fife a few minutes before, one could not help thinking of his early connection with Edward Irving, so seeing him sit beside the venerable Principal of the University, one could not help thinking of his earliest connection with literature. Time brings men into the most unexpected relationships. When the Principal was plain Mr. Brewster, editor of the Edinburgh Cyclopadia, little dreaming that he should ever be Knight of Hanover and head of the Northern Metropolitan University, Mr. Carlyle—just as little dreaming that he should be the foremost man of letters of his day and Lord Rector of the same University-was his contributor, writing for said Cyclopædia biographies of Voltaire and other notables. And so it came about that, after years of separation and of honorable labor, the old editor and contributor were brought together again-in new aspects. The proceedings began by the conferring of the degree of LL.D. on Mr. Erskine of Linlathen-an old friend of Mr. Carlyle's-on Professors Huxley, Tyndall, and Ramsay, and on Dr. Rae, the Arctic explorer. Criticism and comment, both provincial and metropolitan, have been busy with the speech, making the best and the worst of it; but it will long be memorable to those who were present and listened. Beyond all other living men Mr. Carlyle has colored the thought of his time. He is above all things original. Search where you will, you will not find his duplicate. Just as Wordsworth brought a new eye to nature, Mr. Carlyle has brought a new eye into the realms of Biography and History. Helvellyn and Skiddaw, Grassmere and Fairfield, are seen now by the tourist even, through the glamour of That done, amidst a tempest of cheering and any case, there is no other intellectual warehouse hats enthusiastically waved, Mr. Carlyle, slip-in which that kind of article is kept in stock. ping off his Rectorial robe-which must have been a very shirt of Nessus to him-advanced to the table and began to speak in low, wavering, melancholy tones, which were in accordance with the melancholy eyes, and in the Annandale accent, with which his play-fellows must have been familiar long ago. So self-contained was he, so impregnable to outward influences, that all his years of Edinburgh and London life could not impair, even in the slightest degree, that. The opening sentences were lost in the applause, and when it subsided the low, plaintive, quavering voice was heard going on, "Your enthusiasm toward me is very beautiful in itself, how-the poet; and Robespierre and Mirabeau, Cromever undeserved it may be in regard to the object of it. It is a feeling honorable to all men, and one well known to myself when in a position analogous to your own." And then came the Carlylean utterance, with its far-reaching reminiscence and sigh over old graves-Father's and Mother's, Edward Irving's, John Sterling's, Charles Buller's, and all the noble known in past time and with its flash of melancholy scorn. "There are now fifty-six years gone, last November, since I first entered your city, a boy of not quite fourteen-fifty-six years ago-to attend classes here and gain knowledge of all kinds, I knew not what-with feelings of wonder and awe-struck expectation; and now, after a long, long course, this is what we have come to." (Hereat certain blockheads, with a sense of humor singular enough, loudly cachinnated!) "There is something touching and tragic, and yet at the same time beautiful, to see the third generation, as it were, of my dear old native land, rising up and saying, 'Well, you are not altogether an unworthy laborer in the vineyard. You have toiled through a great variety of fortunes and have had many judges."" And thereafter, without aid of notes or paper preparation of any kind, in the same wistful, earnest, hesitating voice, and with many a touch of quaint humor by the way, which came in upon his subject like glimpses of pleasant sunshine, the old man talked to his vast audience about the origin and function of Universities, the old Greeks and Romans, Oliver Cromwell, John Knox, the excellence of silence as compared with speech, the value of courage and truthfulness, and the supreme importance of taking care of one's health. "There is no kind of achievement you could make in the world that is equal to perfect health. What to it are nuggets and millions? The French financier said—'Alas! why is there no sleep to be sold!' Sleep was not in the market at any quotation." But what need of quoting a speech which by this time has been read by every body? Appraise it as you please, it was a thing per se. Just as, if you wish a purple dye you must fish up the Murex; if you wish ivory you must go to the east; so if you desire an address such as Edinburgh listened to the other day you must go to Chelsea for it. It may not be quite to your taste, but, in well and Frederic, Luther and Knox, stand at present, and may for a long time stand, in the somewhat lurid torch-light of Mr. Carlyle's genius. Whatever the French Revolution may have been, the French Revolution, as Mr. Carlyle conceives it, will be the French Revolution of posterity. If he has been mistaken, it is not easy to see from what quarter rectification is to come. It will be difficult to take the "seagreen" out of the countenance of the Incorruptible, to silence Danton's pealing voice or clip his shaggy mane, to dethrone King Mirabeau. If with regard to these men Mr. Carlyle has written wrongfully, there is to be found no redress. Robespierre is now, and henceforth in popular conception, a prig; Mirabeau is now and henceforth a hero. Of these men, and many others, Mr. Carlyle has painted portraits, and whether true or false, his portraits are taken as genuine. And this new eye he has brought into ethics as well. A mountain, a daisy, a sparrow's nest, a mountain tarn, were very different objects to Wordsworth from what they were to ordinary spectators; and the moral qualities of truth, valor, honesty, industry, are quite other things to Mr. Carlyle from what they are to the ordinary run of mortals-not to speak of preachers and critical writers. The gospel of noble manhood, which he so passionately preaches, is not in the least a novel one-the main points of it are to be found in the oldest books which the world possesses, and have been so constantly in the mouths of men that for several centuries past they have been regarded as truisms. That work is worship; that the first duty of a man is to find out what he can do best, and when found, "to keep pegging away at it," as old Lincoln phrased it; that on a lie nothing can be built; that this world has been created by Almighty God; that man has a soul which can not be satisfied with meats or drinks, or fine palaces and millions of money, or stars and ribbons are not these the mustiest of commonplaces, of the very utterance of which our very grandmothers would be ashamed? It is true they are most commonplace to the commonplace; that they have formed the staple of droning sermons which have set the congregation asleep; but just as Wordsworth saw more in a mountain than any other man, so in these ancient saws Mr. Car lyle discovered what no other man in his time | been a sort of Moses leading them across the has. desert to what land of promise may be in store for them; some to whom he has been a manycounseled, wisely-experienced elder brother; a few to whom he has been monitor and friend. The gratitude I owe to him is-or should be-equal to that of most. He has been to me only a voice, sometimes sad, sometimes wrathful, sometimes scornful; and when I saw him for the first time with the eye of flesh stand up among us the other day, and heard him speak kindly, brotherly, affectionate words—his first appearance of that kind, I suppose, since he discoursed of Heroes and Hero-Worship to the London people-I am not ashamed to confess that I felt moved toward him, as I do not think in any possible combination of circumstances I could have felt moved toward any other living man. And then, in combination with this piercing insight, he has, above all things-emphasis. He speaks as one having authority-the authority of a man who has seen with his own eyes, who has gone to the bottom of things and knows. For thirty years the gospel he has preached, scornfully sometimes, fiercely sometimes, to the great scandal of decorous persons not unfrequently; but he has always preached it sincerely and effectively. All this Mr. Carlyle has done; and there was not a single individual perhaps, in his large audience at Edinburgh the other day, who was not indebted to him for something-on whom he had not exerted some spiritual influence more or less. Hardly one perhaps and there were many to whom he has Editor's Easy Chair. Scott's political career, therefore, was altogether unfortunate. He had neither the proper percep tion, nor temper, nor manners for political success. He had the ill-luck of raising the laugh against him IT is often observed that after death the lines of faces most worn with age and sorrow soften and change, and the fresh and long-vanished expression of youth steals over them again and remains. So now that General Scott is dead, the brave and skill-self. But happily the ridicule was felt to be superful soldier, the hero of Lundy's Lane, and Chippewa, and Mexico, is alone remembered. His long life of eighty years was full of services to the country, many of them illustrious, all of them patriotic. It was his misfortune that the severest trial of his ability came when his powers were weakened, but not so far that he did not see that the time had arrived at which he should formally retire from official station, and he did so, with the national gratitude undiminished. No man was ever better known in all his foibles as well as in his virtues, and it was a touching proof of the kind of hold he had upon the respect of the country that even party-spirit could not disturb it. ficial, and could not affect his true position. Indeed there was a time when even his political attitude was full of dignity. This was when President Polk intrigued against Scott during the Mexican war, because of Scott's probable success and his consequent dangerous importance as a Presidential candidate. It was poor business for a President, but fully harmonious with the purpose of the wara war totally without honor to this country except in the conduct of our soldiers and the skill with which they were directed. If any American is inclined to ask contemptuously why Europe should go to war at this time, and proceed to draw a moral against monarchies, let him remember the purpose and the pretext of the Mexican war, and learn that even Republics are fallible. His military career during the war of 1812 and in Mexico, with his semi-military negotiations upon the Canada border in 1837, were the most conspicu- His political disappointments undoubtedly tried ous and valuable portions of his public life. He General Scott sorely. How deep his feeling was had great personal bravery and the talent of mili- appears from his autobiography-one of the most tary organization and command, with the enthusi- melancholy books ever written. But as Lieutenantasm which inspires an army and implies victory in General of the army his position in the country was advance. Unfortunately the lustre of his action in unique. The rebellion found his patriotism clear the field and of his real capacity was obscured by an and stanch. He was a Virginian like Robert Lee, overweening sense of personal importance and of his Adjutant. But his oath as a soldier of the powers which he did not possess. It is the com- United States prevented him from resigning when mon mistake of military men. The immense and his flag was insulted, even had his mind been less resounding applause which justly hails their achieve- truly informed of the duty of an American citizen. ments in the direction of their peculiar gifts bewil- He was too old in mind and body to plan or to conders and deceives them. They accept it as a cre- duct the stupendous operations of such a war, and dential of general power. With their admiring after a few months during which the country recountrymen they forget that it is very, very sel-luctantly surrendered its confidence in his adequacy dom, as Hawthorne says in speaking of Nelson, that to the occasion, he withdrew forever from public "warlike ability has been but the one-sided manifestation of a profound genius for managing the world's affairs." Military ability is usually a special talent, and a talent usually incompatible with that of statesmanship. Wellington, the greatest of modern English Generals, was the poorest of modern English statesmen. Our own history also gives us a striking instance. Andrew Jackson was a good soldier and one of the worst of statesmen. service. At the ripe age of eighty General Scott died, and amidst all the signs of national respect was buried at West Point, a historic spot of which he was always peculiarly fond, and to which his grave will now impart fresh interest. He will always be counted among our most illustrious soldiers, and may be truly cited as a successful General, whose ambition was perfectly restrained by patriotism |