vigorous moral reformer, so far
from propelling us in new grooves, has in truth only given new firmness
and coherency to tendencies that were strongly marked enough in the
national character before. He has increased the fervour of the country,
but without materially changing its objects; there is all the less
disguise among us as a result of his teaching, but no radical
modification of the sentiments which people are sincere in. The most
stirring general appeal to the emotions, to be effective for more than
negative purposes, must lead up to definite maxims and specific
precepts. As a negative renovation Mr. Carlyle's doctrine was perfect.
It effectually put an end to the mood of Byronism. May we say that with
the neutralisation of Byron, his most decisive and special work came to
an end? May we not say further, that the true renovation of England, if
such a process be ever feasible, will lie in a quite other method than
this of emotion? It will lie not in more moral earnestness only, but in
a more open intelligence; not merely in a more dogged resolution to work
and be silent, but in a ready willingness to use the understanding. The
poison of our sins, says Mr. Carlyle in his latest utterance, 'is not
intellectual dimness chiefly, but torpid unveracity of heart.' Yes, but
all unveracity, torpid or fervid, breeds intellectual dimness, and it is
this last which prevents us from seeing a way out of the present ignoble
situation. We need light more than heat; intellectual alertness, faith
in the reasoning faculty, accessibility to new ideas. To refuse to use
the intellect patiently and with system, to decline to seek scientific
truth, to prefer effusive indulgence of emotion to the laborious and
disciplined and candid exploration of new ideas, is not this, too, a
torpid unveracity? And has not Mr. Carlyle, by the impatience of his
method, done somewhat to deepen it?
It is very well to invite us to moral reform, to bring ourselves to be
of heroic mind, as the surest way to 'the blessed Aristocracy of the
Wisest.' But how shall we know the wisest when we see them, and how
shall a nation know, if not by keen respect and watchfulness for
intellectual truth and the teachers of it? Much as we may admire Mr.
Carlyle's many gifts, and highly as we may revere his character, it is
yet very doubtful whether anybody has as yet learnt from him the
precious lesson of scrupulosity and conscientiousness in actively and
constantly using
|