e him when the clock struck the hour.

"May the First, 1837," says Professor MacMechan, "was a notable day.
In the afternoon, Carlyle lectured at Almack's, and in the evening
Macready produced young Mr. Browning's _Strafford_, for the first
time, at Covent Garden. Hallam, of the _Middle Ages_,--'a broad, old,
positive man, with laughing eyes,'--was chairman and brought the
lecturer face to face with his first audience, the two hundred holders
of guinea tickets. It was made up of the elements referred to in
Spedding's letter. Learning, taste, nobility, family, wit, and beauty
were all represented in that assembly; 'composed of mere quality and
notabilities,' says Carlyle. It is easy to figure the scene; the men
all clean-shaven, in the clumsy coats, high collars, and enormous
neck-cloths of the period, the ladies, and there were naturally more
ladies than men, following the vagaries of fashion in 'bishop' sleeves
and the 'pretty church-and-state bonnets,' that seemed to Hunt at
times, 'to think through all their ribbons.' We call that kind of
bonnet 'coal-scuttle' now, but Maclise's portrait of Lady Morgan
trying hers on before a glass justifies Hunt's epithet. The lecturer
was the lean, wiry type of Scot, within an inch of six feet. In face,
he was not the bearded, broken-down Carlyle of the Fry photograph, but
the younger Carlyle of the Emerson portrait. Clean-shaven, as was then
the fashion, the determination of the lower jaw lying bare, the thick
black hair brushed carelessly and coming down on the bony, jutting
forehead, violet-blue eyes, deep-set, and alert, the whole face shows
the Scot and the peasant in every line. It was a striking face, the
union of black hair, blue eyes, and, usually, ruddy color on the high
cheek bones, 'as if painted ... at the plow's tail,' Lady Eastlake
remarked, and she was an artist. Harriet Martineau remarks that he was
as 'yellow as a guinea,' but this would be due to some temporary
gastric disturbance. He was very nervous, as was most natural, and
stood with downcast eyes, his fingers picking at the desk before him.

At the beginning his speech was broken, and his throat was dry, drink
as he would; but his desperate determination not to break down carried
him through. The society people were 'very humane' to him, and the
lecturer had a message for them; his matter was new, his manner was
interesting; he knew his subject. The rugged Scottish accent came like
a welcome draught of call