ss; Jeffrey became a frequent
visitor at Comely Bank, and they discovered 'mutual old cousinships' by
the maternal side. Jeffrey's friendship was an immense acquisition to
Carlyle, and everybody regarded it as his highest good fortune. The
_literati_ of Edinburgh came to see her, and 'listen to her husband's
astonishing monologues.' To Carlyle's regret, Jeffrey would not talk in
their frequent rambles of his experiences in the world, 'nor of things
concrete and current,' but was 'theoretic generally'; and seemed bent
on converting Carlyle from his 'German mysticism,' back merely, as the
latter could perceive, into 'dead Edinburgh Whiggism, scepticism, and
materialism'; 'what I felt,' says Carlyle, 'to be a forever impossible
enterprise.' They had long discussions, 'parryings, and thrustings,'
which 'I have known continue night after night,' relates Carlyle, 'till
two or three in the morning (when I was his guest at Craigcrook, as once
or twice happened in coming years); there he went on in brisk logical
exercise with all the rest of the house asleep, and parted usually in
good humour, though after a game which was hardly worth the candle. I
found him infinitely witty, ingenious, sharp of fence, but not in any
sense deep; and used without difficulty to hold my own with him.'
Jeffrey did everything in his power to further Carlyle's prospects and
projects. He tried to obtain for him the professorship of Moral
Philosophy at St Andrews University, vacated by Dr Chalmers.
Testimonials were given by Irving, Brewster, Buller, Wilson, Jeffrey,
and Goethe. They failed, however, in consequence of the opposition of
the Principal, Dr Nicol.

To Carlyle, doubtless, the most memorable incidents of the Edinburgh
period was his correspondence with Goethe. The magnetic spell thrown
over Carlyle by Goethe will ever remain a mystery. Between the two men
there was no intellectual affinity. One would have expected Goethe the
Pagan to have repelled Carlyle the Puritan, unless we have recourse to
the philosophy of opposites, and conclude that the tumultuous soul of
Carlyle found congenial repose in the Greek-like restfulness of Goethe.
The great German had been deeply impressed by the profound grasp which
Carlyle was displaying of German literature. After reading a letter
which he had received from Walter Scott, Goethe remarked to Eckermann:
'I almost wonder that Walter Scott does not say a word about Carlyle,
who has so decided a German tende