ard and undemonstrative as an
old-fashioned Puritan farmer,--one of those men who never kiss their
children, or even their wives, before people. His mother also was
sagacious and religious, and marked by great individuality of character.
For these stern parents Carlyle ever cherished the profoundest respect
and affection, regularly visiting them once a year wherever he might be,
writing to them frequently, and yielding as much to their influence as
to that of anybody.

At the age of fourteen the boy was sent to the University of Edinburgh,
with but little money in his pocket, and forced to practise the most
rigid economy. He did not make a distinguished mark at college, nor did
he cultivate many friendships. He was reserved, shy, awkward, and proud.
After leaving college he became a school-teacher, with no aptness and
much disdain for his calling. It was then that he formed the
acquaintance of Edward Irving, which ripened into the warmest friendship
of his life. He was much indebted to this celebrated preacher for the
intellectual impulse received from him. Irving was at the head of a
school at Kirkcaldy, and Carlyle became his assistant. Both these young
men were ambitious, and aspired to pre-eminence. Like Napoleon at the
military school of Brienne, they would not have been contented with
anything less, because they were conscious of their gifts; and both
attained their end. Irving became the greatest preacher of his day, and
Carlyle the greatest writer; but Carlyle had the most self-sustained
greatness. Irving was led by the demon of popularity into extravagances
of utterance which destroyed his influence. Carlyle, on the other hand,
never courted popularity; but becoming bitter and cynical in the rugged
road he climbed to fame, he too lost many of his admirers.

In ceasing to be a country schoolmaster, Carlyle did not abandon
teaching. He removed to Edinburgh for the study of divinity, and
supported himself by giving lessons. He had been destined by his parents
to be a minister of the Kirk of Scotland; but at the age of twenty-three
he entered upon a severe self-examination to decide whether he honestly
believed and could preach its doctrines. Weeks of intense struggle freed
him from the intellectual bonds of the kirk, but fastened upon him the
chronic disorder of his stomach which embittered his life, and in later
years distorted his vision of the world about him. At the recommendation
of his friend Irving, then p