speaker. His voice is strong but harsh and grating, making an accent which must be unpleasant to all, doubly disagreeable to southern ears. He has no control over his voice at all; it is always in the same key, which is but another mode of saying that it is always harsh, hard, and husky. He speaks with some rapidity, and with great vehemence or energy. He uses very little gesture with his arms; but a great deal—if the term may be applied in such a casewith the muscles of his face, which are constantly in motion. His dark, clear, penetrating eye, too, has a great deal of expression in it when he is warmed and excited with his subject. On such occasions he speaks with his eyes and countenance generally, as well as with his tongue. Hence it is, that notwithstanding all his awkwardness of manner, and the utter absence of any of the graces of elocution or oratory, his audience listen to him with a wrapt attention during the delivery of those passages in which the earnestness of his own feelings, and the intensity of the interest he feels in his subject, are most clearly apparent.

men.

That Mr. Carlyle is a man of genius, may be inferred from the fact, that he has so nobly struggled for a long series of years against the prejudices, and, what is perhaps still more difficult to be endured, the neglect of his countryThere is not one man among a thousand, that could have held out against the indifference which, for ten or twelve years, his various works had to encounter at the hands of the public. When a new edition of the " Struggles of Genius" is published, the name and case of Mr. Carlyle may, with great propriety, be introduced into it; for to have to contend with cold neglect, is still more disheartening than to have to struggle with pecuniary difficulties. Mr. Carlyle, happily for himself, and happily for literature and philosophy, never, all this time, lost faith either in his own powers, or in eventual justice being done to him by the public. He continued to hope on, though it was against hope. The result has shown, the position he now occupies in the literary world shows, that his confidence, either in himself or the public, was not misplaced.

Mr. Carlyle is, I believe, the owner of some property in his native country, from which he derives a small annual income. This enabled him to prosecute his literary pursuits, when these were unproductive in a pecuniary point of view. Now he derives something from them, though I doubt if, even during the last three years, which may be said to have been the only years of his prosperity as an author, the average annual proceeds of his pen have reached £200.

Mr. Carlyle is, happily, a man of simple unostentatious habits, and consequently does not incur a large expenditure. He lives in comparative retirement in a small but comfortable cottage at Brompton. He has a decided aversion to appearing in public, and is not partial to much of the society of even intellectual men. He is in his element when among his books: he is never happier than when buried amidst the mysteries and spiritualities of the Transcendental philosophers of Germany.

In his personal appearance, Mr. Carlyle is tall and rather slender. His complexion is dark, and his hair possesses a hue which "Warren,

of No. 30, Strand," would call a shining jet black. His face is of the angular form, it is generally deficient in fulness, but especially in the cheeks. His forehead is high, but is deficient in breadth. His eye, as before remarked, is dark, piercing, and expressive. I do not know his exact age, but if appearances may be relied on, he is between his forty-second and forty-fifth year.

CHAPTER X.

MISCELLANEOUS.

MR. ROBERT OWEN-COUNT D'ORSAY-MR. WIL

LIAM CLOWES.

THOUGH no man of the present day may, with greater propriety, be designated a "Public Character," than MR. ROBERT OWEN, it is not without much consideration that I have come to the resolution of giving him a place in the series of personal sketches now appearing in the pages of this publication.* I have been chiefly induced

* It may be right to state, that this sketch of Mr. Owen, with some of the other sketches in this work, previously appeared in a weekly literary periodical, entitled "Grant's London Journal," conducted by the author of these volumes. Out of twenty octavo volumes, which the author has written, nothing has proceeded from his pen on which he looks back with greater satisfaction than on this; for he has heard from all parts of the country, the most gratifying accounts of the good it has done, not only in preventing persons from imbibing the poison of