it was touching, we say, and suggestive
also of many things, to behold the strong, stern man paying homage to
language whose spirit was dead to him, out of pure love for his dear
mother, and veneration also for the great heart in which that spirit
was once alive that fought so grand and terrible a battle. Carlyle
likes to talk of Luther, and, as his "Hero-Worship" shows, loves his
character. A great, fiery, angry gladiator, with something of the
bully in him,--as what controversialist has not, from Luther to
Erasmus, to Milton, to Carlyle himself?--a dread image-breaker,
implacable as Cromwell, but higher and nobler than he, with the
tenderness of a woman in his inmost heart, full of music, and glory,
and spirituality, and power; his speech genuine and idiomatic, not
battles only, but conquests; and all his highest, best, and gentlest
thoughts robed in the divine garments of religion and poetry;--such
was Luther, and as such Carlyle delights to behold him. Are they not
akin? We assuredly think so. For the blood of this aristocracy
refuses to mix with that of churls and bastards, and flows pure and
uncontaminated from century to century, descending in all its richness
and vigor from Piromis to Piromis. The ancient philosopher knew this
secret well enough when he said a Parthian and a Libyan might be
related, although they had no common parental blood; and that a man is
not necessarily my brother because he is born of the same womb.

We find that Carlyle in his student-life manifested many of those
strong moral characteristics which are the attributes of all his
heroes. An indomitable courage and persistency meet us everywhere in
his pages,--persistency, and also careful painstaking, and patience in
sifting facts and gathering results. He disciplined himself to this
end in early youth, and never allowed any study or work to conquer
him. Speaking to us once in private upon the necessity of persevering
effort in order to any kind of success in life, he said, "When I was a
student, I resolved to make myself master of Newton's 'Principia,' and
although I had not at that time knowledge enough of mathematics to
make the task other than a Hercules-labor to me, yet I read and
wrought unceasingly, through all obstructions and difficulties, until
I had accomplished it; and no Tamerlane conqueror ever felt half so
happy as I did when the terrible book lay subdued and vanquished
before me." This trifling anecdote is a key to Carlyle'