emarkable that Carlyle and Schopenhauer should have lived
through four decades together yet neither know in any complete way of
the other's work. Carlyle nowhere mentions the name of Schopenhauer.
Indeed _Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung_, though read by a few, was
practically an unknown book both in Germany and England until a date
when Carlyle was growing old, solitary, and from the present ever more
detached, and new books and new writers had become, as they were to
Goethe in his age, distasteful or a weariness. Schopenhauer, on the
other hand, already in the "thirties," had been attracted by Carlyle's
essays on German literature in the _Edinburgh_, and though ignorant as
yet of the writer's name he was all his life too diligent a reader of
English newspapers and magazines to be unaware of Carlyle's later fame.
But he has left no criticism, nor any distinct references to Carlyle's
teaching, although in his later and miscellaneous writings the
opportunity often presents itself. Wagner, it is known, was a student
both of Schopenhauer and Carlyle. Schopenhauer's proud injunction,
indeed, that he who would understand his writings should prepare
himself by a preliminary study of Plato or Kant, or of the divine
wisdom of the Upanishads, indicates also paths that lead to the higher
teaching of Wagner, and--though in a less degree--of Carlyle.

[9] The friendship of Tourgenieff and Flaubert rested upon speculative
rather than on artistic sympathy. The Russian indeed never quite
understood Flaubert's "rage for the word." Yet the deep inner concord
of the two natures reveals itself in their correspondence. It was the
supreme friendship of Flaubert's later manhood as that with Bouilhet
was the friendship of his earlier years. Yet they met seldom, and
their meetings often resembled those of Thoreau and Emerson, as
described by the former, or those of Carlyle and Tennyson, when after
some three hours' smoking, interrupted by a word or two, the evening
would end with Carlyle's good-night: "Weel, we hae had a grand nicht,
Alfred." It is in one of Tourgenieff's own prose-poems that the
dialogue of the Jungfrau and the Finsteraarhorn across the centuries is
darkly shadowed. The evening of the world falls upon spirits sensitive
to its intimations as the diurnal twilight falls upon the hearts of
travellers descending a broad stream near the Ocean and the haven of
its unending rest.

[10] Cf. Philostratus, _Life of Appollon