CHAPTER VIII

CARLYLE AS A SOCIAL AND POLITICAL THINKER

In his essay on Carlyle, Mr John Morley utters a protest against the

habit of labelling great men with names. After making every allowance

for the waywardness of the men of intuitive and poetic insight, it

remains true that between the speculative and the practical sides of a

great thinker's mind there is a potent, though subtle, connection. For

those who take the trouble of searching, there is discoverable such a

connection between the speculative ideas of Carlyle and his practical

outlook upon civilisation. Given a thinker who lays stress upon the

emotional side of progress, and we have a thinker who will take for

heroes men of mystical tendencies, of strong dominating passions, a

thinker who will value progress not by the increase of worldly comfort,

but by the increase in the number of magnetic, epoch-making

personalities. Naturally, we hear Carlyle remark that the history of the

world is at bottom the history of its great men.

Carlyle's fanatical adoption of intuitionalism has told banefully upon

his work in sociology. Trusting to his inner light, to what we might

call Mystical Quakerism, Carlyle has dispensed with a rational theory of

progress. Before a sociological problem, his attitude is not that of the

patient thinker, but of the hysterical prophet, whose emotions find

outlet in declamatory denunciation. Like the prophets of old, Carlyle

tends towards Pessimism. His golden age is in the past. When _Past and

Present_ appeared, many earnest-minded men, captivated by the style and

spirit of the book, hailed Carlyle as a social reformer. As an attempt

to solve the social problem, _Past and Present_ is not a success.

Carlyle could do no more than tell the modern to return to the spirit of

the feudal period, when the people were led by the aristocracy. It

showed considerable audacity on Carlyle's part to come to the

interpretation of history with no theory of progress, no message to the

world beyond the vaguely declamatory one that those nations will be

turned into hell which forget God. Of what value is such writing as

this, taken from the introduction to his _Cromwell_?:--'Here of our own

land and lineage in English shape were heroes on the earth once more,

who knew in every fibre and with heroic daring laid to heart that an

Almighty Justice does verily rule this world, that it is good to fight

on God's side, and bad to fight on the Devil's side! The essence of all

heroism and veracities that have been or will be.' This is simply a

reproduction of Jewish theocratic ideas; indeed, except for the details,

Carlyle might as readily have written a life of Moses as of Cromwell.

In the eyes of Carlyle, human life was what it was to Bunyan, a kind of

pilgrim's progress; only in the Carlylean creed it is all battle and no

victory, all Valley of Humiliation and no Delectable Mountain.

Naturally, where no stress is laid upon collective action, where

individual reason is depreciated, progress is associated with the rise

of abnormal individualities, men of strong wills like Cromwell and

Frederick. With Rousseau, Carlyle appears to look upon civilisation as a

disease. In one of his essays, _Characteristics_, he goes near the

Roussean idea when he declaims against self-consciousness, and

deliberately gives a preference to instinct. The uses of great men are

to lead humanity away from introspection back to energetic, rude,

instinctive action. When humanity will not listen to the voice of the

prophets, it must be treated to whip and scorpion. It never dawned upon

Carlyle that the highest life, individual and collective, has roots in

physical laws, that politico-economic forces must be reckoned with

before social harmony can be reached.

Just as Carlyle's Idealism drove him into opposition to the utilitarian

theory of morals, so it drove him into opposition to the utilitarian

theory of society. Out of his idealistic way of looking upon life there

flowed a curious result. As early as _Sartor Resartus_ we find Carlyle

anticipating the evolutionary conception of society. Spencer has

familiarised us with the idea that society is an organism. The idea

which he received from the Germans that Nature is not a mere mechanical

collection of atoms, but the materialised expression of a spiritual

unity--that idea Carlyle extended to society. As he puts it in _Sartor

Resartus_: 'Yes, truly, if Nature is one, and a living indivisible

whole, much more is Mankind, the Image that reflects and creates Nature,

without which Nature were not.... Noteworthy also, and serviceable for

the progress of this same individual, wilt thou find his subdivisions

into Generations. Generations are as the Days of toilsome Mankind; Death

and Birth are the vesper and the matin bells, that summon Mankind to

sleep, and to rise refreshed for new advancement. What the Father has

made, the Son can make and enjoy; but has also work of his own appointed

him. Thus all things wax and roll onwards.... Find mankind where thou

wilt, thou findest it in living movement, in progress faster or slower;

the Phoenix soars aloft, hovers with outstretched wings, filling Earth

with her music; or as now, she sinks, and with spheral swan-song

immolates herself in flame, that she may soar the higher and sing the

clearer.'

Philosophies of civilisation have a tendency to beget Fatalism. Bent

upon watching the resistless play of general laws, philosophers, in

their admiration of the products, are apt to ignore the frightful

suffering and waste involved in the process. Society being an organism,

a thing of development, the duty of thinkers is to demonstrate the

nature of sociological laws, and allow them free scope for operation. To

this is due much of the apparent hardness of Eighteenth Century

political speculation, which, beginning with the French Physiocratic

School, culminated in the works of Adam Smith, Ricardo, Bentham, and the

two Mills. With those thinkers, the one palpable lesson of the past was

the duty of abstaining from interference with the general process of

social development. Give man liberty, said the Utilitarian Radicals, and

he will work out his own salvation: from the play of individual

self-interest, social harmony will result.

Carlyle is frequently thought of as a Conservative force in politics. In

some respects he was more Radical than the Benthams and the Mills. His

deeper ideal conception of society intensified his dissatisfaction with

society as it existed. In fact, to Carlyle's attack upon those

institutions, beliefs and ceremonies which had no better basis than mere

unreasoning authority, most of the Radicalism of the early 'forties' was

due. Conceive what effect language like this must have had upon

thoughtful, high-souled young men: 'Call ye that a Society, where there

is no longer any Social Idea extant; not so much as the Idea of a common

Home, but only of a common overcrowded Lodging-house? Where each,

isolated, regardless of his neighbour, turned against his neighbour,

clutches what he can get, and cries "Mine!" and calls it Peace because,

in the cut-purse and cut-throat Scramble, no steel knives, but only a

far cunninger sort, can be employed? Where Friendship, Communion, has

become an incredible tradition; and your holiest Sacramental Supper is a

smoking Tavern Dinner, with Cook for Evangelist? Where your Priest has

no tongue but for plate-licking; and your high Guides and Governors

cannot guide; but on all hands hear it passionately proclaimed: _Laissez

faire_; leave us alone of your guidance, such light is darker than

darkness; eat your wages and sleep. Thus, too, must an observant eye

discern everywhere that saddest spectacle: the Poor perishing, like

neglected, foundered Draught-Cattle, of Hunger and Overwork; the Rich,

still more wretchedly, of Idleness, Satiety, and Overgrowth. The Highest

in rank, at length, without honour from the Lowest; scarcely, with a

little mouth-honour, as from tavern-waiters who expect to put it in the

bill. Once sacred Symbols fluttering as empty Pageants, whereof men

grudge even the expense; a World becoming dismantled: in one word, the

CHURCH fallen speechless, from obesity and apoplexy; the STATE shrunken

into a Police-Office, straitened to get its pay!'

It was when suggesting a remedy that Carlyle's Idealistic Radicalism

parted company with Utilitarian Radicalism. Failing to see that society

was in a transition period, a period so well described by Herbert

Spencer as the movement from Militarism to Industrialism, in which there

was a severe conflict of ideals, opinions, and interests, Carlyle sought

for the remedy in a return to a form of society which had been outgrown.

There was surely something pathetically absurd in the spectacle of a

great teacher endeavouring to cure social and political diseases by

preaching the resuscitation of Puritanism at a time when the intellect

of the day was parting company with theocratic conceptions. Equally

absurd was it to offer as a remedy for social anarchy the despotism of

ambitious rulers at a time when society was suffering from the effects

of previous despotism. Equally irrelevant was the attempt in _Past and

Present_ to get reformers to model modern institutions on those of the

Middle Ages. Carlyle's remedy for the evils of liberty was a return to

the apron-strings of despotism. Carlyle, in fact, forgot his conception

of society as a developing organism; he endeavoured to arrest progress

at the autocratic stage, because of his ignorance of the laws of

progress and his lack of sympathy with democratic ideas. Still, the

value of Carlyle's political writings should not be overlooked. The

Utilitarian Radicals laid themselves open to the charge of intellectual

superstition. They worshipped human nature as a fetish. Lacking clear

views of social evolution, they overlooked the relativity of political

terms. Ignorant of the conception of human nature to which Spencer has

accustomed us, the old Radicals treated it as a constant quantity which

only needed liberty for its proper development. In their eagerness to

discard theology, they discarded the truth of man's depravity which

finds expression in the creed of the Churches. We have changed all that.

We now realise the fact that political institutions are good or bad, not

as they stand or fall when tested by the first principles of a

rationalistic philosophy, but as they harmonise or conflict with

existing phases of human nature.

If in the sphere of industrialism Carlyle as a guide is untrustworthy,

great is his merit as an inspirer. His influence was needed to

counteract the cold prosaic narrowness of the Utilitarian teaching. He

called attention to an aspect of the economic question which the

Utilitarian Radicals ignored, namely, the inadequacy of self-interest as

a social bond. To Carlyle is largely due the higher ethical conceptions

and quickened sympathies which now exist in the spheres of social and

industrial relationships. Unhappily his implicit faith in intuitionalism

led him to deride political economy and everything pertaining to man's

material life. Much there was in the writings of the economists to call

for severe criticism, and if Carlyle had treated the subject with

discrimination he would have been a power for good; but he chose to pour

the vials of his contempt upon political economy as a science, and upon

modern industrial arrangements, with the result that many of the most

intelligent students of sociology have been repelled from his writings.

In this respect he contrasts very unfavourably with Mill, who,

notwithstanding the temptations to intellectual arrogance from his

one-sided training, with quite a chivalrous regard for truth, was ever

ready to accept light and leading from thinkers who differed from him in

temperament and methods. There may be conflicting opinions as to which

of the two men was intellectually the greater, but there can be no doubt

that Mill dwelt in an atmosphere of intellectual serenity and nobility

far removed from the foggy turbulence in which Carlyle lived, moved, and

had his being. Between the saintly apostle of Progress and the barbaric

representative of Reaction there was a great gulf fixed.

As was natural, the _Latter-day Pamphlets_ were treated as a series of

political ravings. For that estimate Carlyle himself was largely

responsible. He deprived himself of the sympathy of intelligent readers

by the violence of his invective and the lack of discrimination in his

abuse. Much of what Carlyle said is to be found in Mill's

_Representative Government_, said, too, in a quiet, rational style,

which commands attention and respect. Mill, no more than Carlyle, was a

believer in mob rule. He did not think that the highest wisdom was to

be had by the counting of heads. Thinkers like Mill and Spencer did not

deem it necessary to pour contempt on modern tendencies. They suggested

remedies on the lines of these tendencies. They did not try to put back

the hands on the clock of time; they sought to remove perturbing

influences. Much of the evil has arisen from men trying to do by

political methods what should not be done by these methods. Carlyle's

idea that Government should do this, that, and the other thing has

wrought mischief, inasmuch as it has led to an undue belief in the

virtues of Government interference. His writings are largely responsible

for the evils he predicted.

It is curious to notice how, with all his belief in individualism,

Carlyle, in political matters, was unconsciously driven in the direction

of socialism. Get your great man, worship him, and render him

obedience--such was the Carlylean recipe for modern diseases. Suppose

the great man found, how is he to proceed? In these democratic days, he

can only proceed by ruling despotically with the popular consent; in

other words, there will follow a regime of paternalism and fraternalism,

the practical outcome of which would be Socialism. Carlyle himself never

suspected how childish was his conception of national life. He wrote of

his Great Man theory as if it was a discovery, whereas the most advanced

races had long since passed through it, and those which were not

advanced were precisely those which had not been able to shake

themselves free of paternal despotism. On this point the criticism of

the late Professor Minto goes to the heart of the matter: 'Carlyle's

doctrines are the first suggestions of an earnest man, adhered to with

unreasoning tenacity. As a rule, with no exception, that is worth

naming, they take account mainly of one side of a case. He was too

impatient of difficulties, and had too little respect for the wisdom and

experience of others to submit to be corrected: opposition rather

confirmed him in his own opinion. Most of his practical suggestions had

already been made before, and judged impracticable upon grounds which he

could not, or would not, understand. His modes of dealing with pauperism

and crime were in full operation under the despotism of Henry VII. and

Henry VIII. His theory of a hero-king, which means in practice an

accidentally good and able man in a series of indifferent or bad

despots, had been more frequently tried than any other political system;

Asia at this moment contains no government that is not despotic. His

views in other departments of knowledge are also chiefly determined by

the strength of his unreasoning impulses.'

In his interesting _Recollections_ Mr Espinasse states that during the

time that Carlyle was writing on the labour question, not a single

blue-book was visible on his table! To Carlyle's influence must be

traced much of the sentimental treatment of social and industrial

questions which has followed the unpopularity of political economy. It

is only fair to Carlyle to note, that at times he had qualms as to the

superiority of his paternal theory of government over Laissez Faire. In

one place he admits that even Frederick could not have superintended the

great emigration movement to such good effect as was done by the

spontaneous efforts of nature. In the social sphere Carlyle was false to

his doctrine of spontaneity. In his early essays he was perpetually

condemning mechanical interference with society, and contending that

free play should be given to the dynamic agencies. Untrue to himself and

his creed, Carlyle in his later books was constantly denouncing

Government for neglecting to apply mechanical remedies for social

diseases. In his view, the duty of a ruler was not to work in harmony

with social impulses, but to cut and carve institutions in harmony with

the ideas of great men. Puritanism under Cromwell failed because it was

forgotten that society is an organism, not a piece of clay, to be

moulded according to the notions of heroic potters. Strictly speaking,

_Frederick_ and _Cromwell_ should be classed with the _Latter Day

Pamphlets_. In the _Pamphlets_ Carlyle declaims against democratic

methods, and in _Frederick_ and _Cromwell_ we are presented with

incarnations of autocratic methods.

Of all the critics of Carlyle, no one has surpassed Mr Morley in

indicating the mischievous effects which flow from the elevation of

mere will power and emotional force into guides in social and political

questions. As Mr Morley says: 'The dictates of a kind heart are of

superior force to the maxims of political economy; swift and peremptory

resolution is a safer guide than a balancing judgment. If the will works

easily and surely, we may assume the rectitude of the moving impulse.

All this is no caricature of a system which sets sentiment, sometimes

hard sentiment, above reason and method. In other words, the writer who

in these days has done more than anybody else to fire men's hearts with

a feeling for right, and an eager desire for social activity, has, with

deliberate contempt, thrust away from him the only instruments by which

we can make sure what right is, and that our social action is effective.

A born poet, only wanting perhaps a clearer feeling for form and a more

delicate spiritual self-possession to have added another name to the

illustrious band of English singers, he has been driven by the

impetuosity of his sympathies to attack the scientific side of social

questions in an imaginative and highly emotional manner.'

Had Carlyle confined himself to description of social, industrial, and

political diseases, he would have had an unsullied reputation in the

sphere of spiritual dynamics, but flaws immediately appeared when he

endeavoured to prescribe remedies. Many of his remedies were too vague

to be of use; where they were specific, they were so Quixotic as to be

useless. His proposals for dealing with labour and pauperism never

imposed on any sensible man on this side of cloud-land.

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