see them in stronger relief. It is
impossible to over-estimate the importance of the influence which was
wielded by Carlyle, and especially by his _Sartor Resartus_. His was a
gigantic power, both in literature and in morals. At first, as we have
already noted, he met with neglect and ridicule in abundance, but
afterwards these passed into sheer wonder, and then into a wide and
devoted worship. Everybody felt his power, and all earnest thinkers were
seized in the strong grip of reality with which he laid hold upon his
time.

The religious thought and faith both of England and of Scotland felt
him, but his mark was deepest upon Scotland, because of two interesting
facts. First of all, Carlyle represented that old Calvinism which had
always fitted so exactly the national character and spirit; and second,
there were in Scotland many people who, while retaining the Calvinistic
spirit, had lost touch with the old definite creed. Nothing could be
more characteristic of Carlyle than this Calvinism of the spirit which
had passed beyond the letter of the old faith. He stands like an old
Covenanter in the mist; and yet a Covenanter grasping his father's iron
sword. It is because of these two facts _Sartor Resartus_ has taken so
prominent a place in our literature. It stands for a kind of conscience
behind the manifold modern life of our day. Beneath the shrieks and the
laughter of the time we hear in it the boom of great breakers. Never
again can we forget, amidst the gaieties of any island paradise, the
solemn ocean that surrounds it. Carlyle's teaching sounds and recurs
again and again like the Pilgrims' March in _Tannhaeuser_ breaking
through the overture, and rivalling until it vanquishes the music of the
Venusberg.

Yet it was quite inevitable that there should be strong reaction from
any such work as this. To the warm blood and the poignant sense of the
beauty of the world it brought a sense of chill, a forbidding sombreness
and austerity. Carlyle's conception of Christianity was that of the
worship of sorrow; and, while the essence of his gospel was labour, yet
to many minds self-denial seemed to be no longer presented, as in the
teaching of Jesus, as a means towards the attainment of further
spiritual ends. It had become an end in itself, and one that few would
desire or feel to be justified. In the reaction it was felt that
self-development had claims upon the human spirit as well as
self-denial, and indeed that the ha