not until the first of Mr. David Alec Wilson's volumes
of mosaic had appeared that I had read a word on their
biography. Then, it seemed, all the other biographers
fell unfortunately into two classes. There were those
whom Froude had led astray, and those who had spared
no pains to convict Froude of prejudice, misplaced con-
fidence, and error.

When, therefore, the present book was undertaken, I
was not a partisan but an innocent, standing suddenly
alarmed at the treacherous path before me, and with no
desire beyond the wish to define and correct the pair of
portraits in my mind by facts and inferences admitted to
be trustworthy. The comedy of this position produced
even a passing fancy to write a book called the Carlyles
without Controversy, but that might have seemed arro-
gant, and, in certain atmospheres, balm can be as pro-
vocative as a bomb-shell. In truth, neither controversy,
nor some pet theory, nor the bestowal of praise or blame,
has entered, then or now, into my conception of their
characters. A pair of long-suffering sitters were waiting,
sitters of whom I had idly formed an idea. The time had
come to put the preliminary sketch aside, and to draw
them regardless of preconception.

This I have endeavoured to do, and if, by the light
of agreed facts, a former fancy has not been wholly con-
tradicted by maturer study, the explanation may be
neither vainglorious nor obscure. A theory, I repeat, was
not in possession; but perhaps a sense of fellowship for
any pair of human beings whose path is not too straight
nor their days unchequered is a favourable beginning for
approaching them. An innocent interest may be less
treacherous than one begotten of dispute, and an eye for
the obstructions no less than the attractions of love, some
slight safeguard; while the practice of letters, and a
sensitiveness to the relation of marriage, as it is to be

-8-