positive man can seldom be proved wrong. Still, in literature it is very
desirable to preserve a moderate measure of independence, and we
therefore make bold to ask whether it is as plain as the "old hill of
Howth" that Carlyle was a greater man than Johnson? Is not the precise
contrary the truth? No abuse of Carlyle need be looked for, here or from
me. When a man of genius and of letters happens to have any striking
virtues, such as purity, temperance, honesty, the novel task of dwelling
on them has such attraction for us that we are content to leave the
elucidation of his faults to his personal friends, and to stern,
unbending moralists like Mr. Edmund Yates and the World newspaper. To
love Carlyle is, thanks to Mr. Froude's superhuman ideal of friendship,
a task of much heroism, almost meriting a pension; still it is quite
possible for the candid and truth-loving soul. But a greater than
Johnson he most certainly was not.

There is a story in Boswell of an ancient beggar-woman who, whilst
asking an alms of the Doctor, described herself to him, in a lucky
moment for her pocket, as "an old struggler." Johnson, his biographer
tells us, was visibly affected. The phrase stuck to his memory, and was
frequently applied to himself. "I too," so he would say, "am an old
struggler." So too, in all conscience, was Carlyle. The struggles of
Johnson have long been historical; those of Carlyle have just become so.
We are interested in both. To be indifferent would be inhuman. Both men
had great endowments, tempestuous natures, hard lots. They were not
amongst Dame Fortune's favorites. They had to fight their way. What they
took they took by storm. But--and here is a difference indeed--Johnson
came off victorious, Carlyle did not.

Boswell's book is an arch of triumph, through which, as we read, we see
his hero passing into eternal fame, to take up his place with those--

"Dead but sceptred sovereigns who still rule
Our spirits from their urns."

Froude's book is a tomb over which the lovers of Carlyle's genius will
never cease to shed tender but regretful tears.

We doubt whether there is in English literature a more triumphant book
than Boswell's. What materials for tragedy are wanting? Johnson was a
man of strong passions, unbending spirit, violent temper, as poor as a
church-mouse, and as proud as the proudest of Church dignitaries;
endowed with the strength of a coal-heaver, the courage of a lion, and
the tong