Bouillon, and gradually made him French); Louis le Grand, with his 75 Turenne as supreme of modern Generals, managed the rest of the operation, except indeed, I should say, the burning of the Palatinate, from Heidelberg Palace steadily downwards, into 80 black ruin; which Turenne would not do sufficiently, and which Louis had to get done by another. There was also a good deal of extortionate lawpractice, what we may fairly call 85 violently sharp Attorneyism, put in use. The great Louis's 'Chambres de Réunion', Metz Chamber, Brissac Chamber, were once of high infamy, and much complained of, here in 90 England, and everywhere else beyond the Rhine. The Grand Louis, except by sublime gesture, ironically polite, made no answer. He styled himself on his very coins (écu of 1687, say 95 the Medallists), Excelsus super omnes Gentes Dominus, but it is certain attorneyism of the worst sort was one of his instruments in this conquest of Alsace. Nay, as to Stras100 burg, it was not even attorneyism, much less a long-sword, that did the feat; it was a housebreaker's jemmy on the part of the Grand Monarque. Strasburg was got in time of pro105 found peace by bribing of the magistrates to do treason, on his part, and admit his garrison one night. Nor as to Metz la Pucelle, nor any of these Three Bishoprics, was it 110 force of war that brought them over

to France; rather it was force of fraudulent pawnbroking. King Henri II. (year 1552) got these places Protestants, applying to him in their 115 extreme need as we may say, in the way of pledge. Henri entered there with banners spread and drums beating, 'solely in defence of German liberty, as God shall witness'; did 120 nothing for Protestantism or German

liberty (German liberty managing

rapidly to help itself in this instance); and then, like a brazen-faced, unjust pawnbroker, refused to give the places back, had ancient rights 125 over them, extremely indubitable to him, and could not give them back. And never yet, by any pressure or persuasion, would. The great Charles V., Protestantism itself now supporting, 130 endeavoured, with his utmost energy and to the very cracking of his heart, to compel him, but could not. The present Hohenzollern King, a modest and pacific man in com- 135 parison, could and has. I believe it to be perfectly just, rational, and wise that Germany should take these countries home with her from her unexampled campaign, and, by well 140 fortifying her own old Wasgau (Vosges'), Hundsrück (Dog's-back), Three Bishoprics, and other military strengths, secure herself in time coming against French visits.

145

The French complain dreadfully of threatened loss of honour'; and lamentable bystanders plead earnestly, 'Don't dishonour France; leave poor France's honour bright.' But will it 150 save the honour of France to refuse paying for the glass she has voluntarily broken in her neighbour's windows? The attack upon the windows was her dishonour. Signally dis- 155 graceful to any nation was her late assault on Germany, equally signal has been the ignominy of its execution on the part of France. The honour of France can be saved only 160 by the deep repentance of France, and by the serious determination never to do so again to do the reverse of so for ever henceforth. In that way may the honour of 165 France again gradually brighten to the height of its old splendour, far beyond the First Napoleonic, much more the Third, or any recent sort, and offer again to our voluntary love 170

and grateful estimation all the fine and graceful qualities Nature has implanted in the French. ...

A hundred years ago there was 175 in England the liveliest desire, and at one time an actual effort and hope, to recover Alsace and Lorraine from the French. Lord Carteret, called afterwards Lord Granville (no 180 ancestor, in any sense, of his now honourable synonym), thought by some to be, with the one exception of Lord Chatham, the wisest Foreign Secretary we ever had, and especially the 185 'one Secretary that ever spoke German, or understood German matters at all', had set his heart on this very object, and had fair prospects of achieving it, had not our poor 190 dear Duke of Newcastle suddenly peddled him out of it, and even out of office altogether, into sullen disgust (and too much of wine withal, says Walpole), and into total oblivion 195 by his nation, which, except Chatham,

has none such to remember. That Bismarck, and Germany along with him, should now at this propitious juncture make a like demand is no 200 surprise to me. After such provocation, and after such a victory, the resolution does seem rational, just, and even modest. And considering all that has occured since that me205 morable cataclysm at Sedan, I could reckon it creditable to the sense and moderation of Count Bismarck that he stands steadily by this; demanding nothing more, resolute to take 210 nothing less, and advancing with a slow calmness towards it by the eligiblest roads. The 'Siege of Paris', which looks like the hugest and most hideous farce-tragedy ever played 215 under this sun, Bismarck evidently hopes will never need to come to uttermost bombardment, to millionfold death by hunger, or the kindling of Paris and its carpentries

and asphalt streets by shells and red- 220 hot balls into a sea of fire. Diligent, day by day, seem those Prussians, never resting nor too much hasting; well knowing the proverb, 'Slow fire makes sweet malt.' I be- 225 lieve Bismarck will get his Alsace, and what he wants of Lorraine; and likewise that it will do him, and us, and all the world, and even France itself by-and-by, a great deal of 230 good. Anarchic France gets her first stern lesson there (a terribly drastic dose of physic to sick France!); and well will it be for her if she can learn her lesson honestly. If she 235 cannot, she will get another, and ever another; learnt the lesson must be.

Considerable misconception as to Herr von Bismarck is still prevalent in England. The English news- 240 papers, nearly all of them, seem to me to be only getting towards a true. knowledge of Bismarck, but not yet got to it. The standing likeness, circulating everywhere ten years ago, 245 of demented Bismarck and his ditto King to Strafford and Charles I. versus our Long Parliament (as like as Macedon to Monmouth, and not liker) has now vanished from the 250 earth, no whisper of it ever to be heard more. That pathetic Niobe of Denmark, reft violently of her children (which were stolen children, and were dreadfully ill-nursed by Niobe Den- 255 mark), is also nearly gone, and will go altogether so soon as knowledge of the matter is had. Bismarck, as I read him, is not a person of 'Napoleonic' ideas, but of ideas quite 260 superior to Napoleonic; shows no invincible lust of territory', nor is tormented with 'vulgar ambition', etc.; but has aims very far beyond that sphere; and, in fact, seems to me to 265 be striving with strong faculty, by patient, grand, and successful steps, towards an object beneficial to Ger

mans and to all other men. That 270 noble, patient, deep, pious, and solid Germany should be at length welded into a nation and become Queen of the Continent, instead of vapouring, vainglorious, gesticulating, quarrel

some, restless, and over-sensitive 275 France, seems to me the hopefullest public fact that has occured in my time.

I remain, Sir, yours truly,
Chelsea, Nov. 11. T. Carlyle.

CH

born at Landport, then a suburb of Portsmouth, where his father held a clerkship in the Navy Pay Office. He spent his youth at Chatham and London, and, when the family became involved in pecuniary embarrassments, had to submit to a life of great hardship. His father being imprisoned for debt, the boy was, for a time, packer in a London blacking warehouse. Afterwards he was placed in a

Dickens began his literary career with humorous Sketches of London life and a series of comic adventures of cockney sportsmen, entitled The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club (1836-7), which, in quick succession, were followed by a long series of immensely popular novels. In reaction to the romantic school of Scott, Dickens went back to the realistic treatment of the 18th century, and more especial

of legal affairs and the life of lawyers which he afterwards so often displayed in his novels. The boy's education was mostly left to himself and mainly achieved by extensive reading and keen observation of men and things around him. Following the example of his father, who had become a reporter, he set strenuously to work to learn shorthand, and, in 1831, obtained an engagement as parliamentary reporter, which brought him into connexion with several newspapers. Before long he also tried his hand at original composition, and wrote short descriptive papers on the London scenes familiar to him, which were afterwards collected as Sketches by Box (1835), the first appearing in the 'Monthly Magazine' for 1833. The success of these Sketches decided the course of his life and enabled him henceforth to depend solely on literature for a living. The immense popularity of his next publication, Pickwick (1837), spread his fame all over Europe. The remainder of his life's story is mainly a record of continuous literary triumphs and of his visits to America (1842 and 1867), Italy, France, and Switzerland. His growing wealth enabled him to buy the villa 'Gadshill Place', near Rochester, where he spent the last ten years of his life. In 1858 he began to give public readings from his works, which, through his great histrionic talent, proved an immense success. But these reading tours, which extended as far as America, at last utterly broke down his health.

apart from his two attempts at historical romance (Barnaby Rudge 1841 and A Tale of Two Cities 1859), all his great novels (Oliver Twist 1837-9, Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby 1838-9, The Old Curiosity Shop 1840-1, The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit 1843-4, Dealings with the Firm of Dombey & Son 1846-8, The Personal History of David Copperfield 1849-50, Bleak House 1852-3, Hard Times for these Times 1854, Little Dorrit 1855-7, Great Expectations 1860-61), are not mere novels of adventure, but have all a didactic purpose. He tries to correct in each either some individual vice or some public grievance, and gives expression to those humanitarian sentiments that were more fully and passionately advocated by Carlyle. Thus he exposes pride in Dombey & Son, selfishness in Martin Chuzzlewit, the egoistic principles of the 'Manchester School' in Hard Times (with Mr. Thomas Gradgrind), the defects of the new Poor Law and the workhouse system in Oliver Twist, the delay of law in the interminable Chancery suit of Jarndice versus Jarndice (Bleak House), and the miseries of the debtors' prison as well as the clumsiness of the official administrative machine (called 'Circumlocution Office') in Little Dorrit. David Copperfield, moreover, which the author himself considered his masterpiece, derives much charm from the large autobiographical element which it contains. The strong side of Dickens lies not in the construction of a plot or the telling of a continuous story, but

280

an an

that the chaise was ready nouncement which the vehicle itself confirmed, by forthwith appearing before the coffee-room blinds aforesaid.

It was a curious little green box on four wheels, with a low place 70 like a wine-bin for two behind, and an elevated perch for one in front, drawn by an immense brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone. An hostler stood near it, holding by 75 the bridle another immense horse apparently a near relative of the animal in the chaise ready saddled for Mr. Winkle.

'Bless my soul!' said Mr. Pick80 wick, as they stood upon the pavement while the coats were being put in. 'Bless my soul! who's to drive? I never thought of that.'

'Woo!' cried Mr. Pickwick, as the tall quadruped evinced a decided inclination to back into the coffeeroom window.

'Woo!' echoed Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass from the bin.

115

'Only his playfulness, gen'lm'n,' said the head hostler encouragingly; jist kitch hold on him, Villiam.' The 120 deputy restrained the animal's impetuosity, and the principal ran to assist Mr. Winkle in mounting.

'T'other side, sir, if you please.' 'Blowed if the gen'lm'n worn't a 125 gettin' up on the wrong side,' whispered a grinning post-boy to the inexpressibly gratified waiter.

Mr. Winkle, thus instructed, climbed into his saddle, with about as much 130 difficulty as he would have experienced in getting up the side of a first-rate XX

85 man.

'Of course,' said Mr. Snodgrass. 'I' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

'Not the slightest fear, sir,' interposed the hostler. 'Warrant him 90 quiet, sir; a hinfant in arms might drive him.'

95

'He don't shy, does he?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

he

'Shy, sir?

He wouldn't shy if

was to meet a vaggin-load of monkeys with their tails burnt off.'

The last recommendation was indisputable. Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass got into the bin; Mr. Pick100 wick ascended to his perch, and deposited his feet on a floor-clothed shelf, erected beneath it for that purpose.

'Now, shiny Villiam,' said the 105 hostler to the deputy hostler, 'give the gen❜lm'n the ribbins.' 'Shiny Villiam' so called, probably, from his sleek hair and oily countenance

placed the reins in Mr. Pick110 wick's left hand; and the upper hostler thrust a whip into his right.

'All right?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, with an inward presentiment that it 135 was all wrong.

'All right,' replied Mr. Winkle faintly.

'Let 'em go,' cried the hostler, 'Hold him in, sir;' and away went 140 the chaise, and the saddle horse, with Mr. Pickwick on the box of the one, and Mr. Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight and gratification of the whole inn yard. 145

'What makes him go sideways?' said Mr. Snodgrass in the bin, to Mr. Winkle in the saddle.

'I can't imagine,' replied Mr. Winkle. His horse was going up the street 150 in the most mysterious manner side first, with his head towards one side of the way, and his tail to the other.

Mr. Pickwick had no leisure to 155 observe either this, or any other particular, the whole of his faculties being concentrated in the management of the animal attached to the chaise, who displayed various peculia- 160