6 November 1871 – 12 November 1871

With Carlyle. Old Saints. Shake- speare : C. said with emphasis, ' The longer I live, the higher I rate that much -belauded man.' He thought that Shakespeare was much impressed with Christianity ; to which I demurred. He repeated ' The cloud-capt Towers,' etc., dwelling solemnly once more on — We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep — He quoted Richter — 'These words created whole volumes within me,' and mused, saying the words again to himself, ' such stuff 2ls dreams are made of.' To my mind, I confess this fine dramatic passage seems of no very particular value when separated from its context. We agree about Scott as a poet, and, on the whole, about Byron — Moore, too. Spoke of Gray — the Elegy ^ Letters from the Lakes, and passed to Goldsmith. At no time did C. show himself so happy and harmonious as when talking on some great literary subject with nothing in it to raise his pugnacity. The books and writers who charmed his youth — to return to these was to sail into sheltered waters. C. said, ' Writing is an art. After I had been at it some time I began to perceive more and more clearly that it is an art.'

C, and Sir , who talked again of the Poor Law. C. complained to me of having too much of this from the worthy Baronet. I told him of the apprentice who, getting cow's liver for dinner day after day, remarked at last that liver was very nice for six months or so, but after that one wanted a change. C. laughed, and thenceforward used to say, on occasion, ' I've had another dish of liver ! ' Story of the mulatto Scotch gentleman who told a wandering Irishman asking help that he ought to go to his own parish. Paddy looked him full in the face : ' I'm thinking your Honour's a long way from your parish too ! '