From Thomas Carlyle ( the Point of Origin for the Victorian Debates in the Essay and from his

tantrum prose style to the !deas on "rt #eld by $ohn %us&in' the Pre(%aphaelites and the "etheticists )*+ho ,ere each of the protagonists of this lecture and ,hy they ha-e been grouped together . Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Born: 4 December 1795 at Ecclefecham in cotlan!" the son of a stone # mason $ho enco%ra&e! his 'eal for learnin& $ith a (ie$ to )re)arin& him for the ministry* +e atten!e! E!inb%r&h ,ni(ersity (an! is sai! to ha(e $al-e! a h%n!re! miles to &et from his home to E!inb%r&h). here he com)lete! the /rts co%rse an! some theolo&ical co%rses* Then he interr%)te! his st%!ies to become a mathematics teacher at 0ircal!y* +e )%blishe! se(eral translations: from 1erman )hiloso)hy )l%s the translation of 1oethe2s Wilhelm Meister an! $rote bio&ra)hies of 3elson" 4ontai&ne an! 4ontes5%ie% )l%s essays on B%rns" 6ohnson" 7oltaire" Di!erot an! 3o(alis* 6ohn 8%s-in (1819#1999) Born: 8 :ebr%ary" 1819 in ;on!on" b%t he $as the son of a cottish $ine merchant of (ery strict <%ritanical con(ictions" $ho $as -e)t in ;on!on by his tra!e* /fter bein& e!%cate! )ri(ately" 8%s-in $as sent to =>for! in 18?@ to st%!y art* +ere" A%st li-e /rnol! an! Bil!e later" he $on the 3e$!i&ate <ri'e for )oetry before he &ra!%ate!" in 184C* Before ret%rnin& to =>for! as a )rofessor of art" in 1879" he )%blishe! his !efense of mo!ern lan!sca)e )aintin& D4o!ern <aintersD by e>altin& the (irt%es of T%rner2s $or-s" $hile also %n!erta-in& to ill%minate his contem)orary <%ritanical )%blic in matters* )ertainin& to the history of )aintin& an! the reco&nition of the &reat masters" all this as a res%lt of his o$n E%ro)ean &ran! to%r that ha! e!%cate! his taste in a cosmo)olitan $ay* D4o!ern <aintersD $as an instit%tion in itself" so it too- 17 years to com)lete this treatise $hich establishe! him as the lea!in& art critic of the cent%ry* DThe e(en ;am)s of /rchitect%reD (1849) ins)ire! the 7ictorian 1othic 8e(i(al in architect%re" accor!in& to the i!eal mo!el that 1othic $as seen to re)resent thro%&h its (irt%es or Dlam)sD* The thir! &reat )roAect la%nche! by 8%s-in the historian an! theorist $as to be fo%n! in DThe tones of 7eniceD (1851#?)" from $hich the e>cer)t abo%t the D econ!" or 1othic )erio!D $as lifte!* The <re-8a)haelites: ;ei&h +%nt" Dante 1abriel 8osetti" 6ohn E(erett 4illais (see the << ) # a 7ictorian )ost-romantic a(ant-&ar!e (brotherhoo!) The t%rn of the cent%ry !eca!ent a(ant-&ar!e ins)ire! by Balter <ater: =scar Bil!e +hy they ha-e been grouped together. They illustrate the capacity of ideas (Carlyles ideas at the beginning of the Victorian age to inspire mo-ements and artistic practices that typify' and then change (for e/ample in +alter Paters ideas ' Victorian mentalities' fashions' literary and artistic landmar&s*

0* Thomas Carlyle The first important essay(,riter of the Victorian age' Thomas Carlyle ()123()44) ,as a ,riter to remember as parado/ical* #e ,as fiery (e/plosi-e' passionate' choleric' -iolent ' yet the apostle of Puritanical modesty* #e considered himself to be un,orthy of preaching in a chapel' yet he preached about e-ery lay sub5ect of interest for an entire century* #e ,rote tantrum prose (his emoti-e style ,as florid' rhetorical' disorderly and garrulous ' yet he solidly laid do,n the principles of Victorian commonsense* Carlyle' the "postle of Puritanical 6odesty (from Sartor Resartus' )47789 : an essayistic no-el' no-el of ideas' seriali;ed in Frasers Magazine' a Tory publication

Mans Unhappiness, as I construe, comes of his Greatness; it is because there is an Infinite in him, which with all his cunning he cannot quite bury under the Finite. ill the whole Finance Ministers and Upholsterers and !onfectioners of modern "urope underta#e, in $oint%stoc# company, to ma#e one &hoeblac# '())*+ ,hey cannot accomplish it, abo-e an hour or two. for the &hoeblac# also has a &oul quite other than his &tomach; and would require, if you consider it, for his permanent satisfaction and saturation, simply this allotment, no more, and no less. Gods infinite Universe altogether to himself, therein to en$oy infinitely, and fill e-ery wish as fast as it rose. /ceans of 'ochheimer, a ,hroat li#e that of /phiuchus. spea# not of them; to the infinite &hoeblac# they are as nothing. 0o sooner is your ocean filled, than he grumbles that it might ha-e been of better -intage. ,ry him with half of a Uni-erse, of an /mnipotence, he sets to quarrelling with the proprietor of the other half, and declares himself the most maltreated of men. 1 (lways there is a blac# spot in our sunshine. it is e-en, as I said, the Shadow of Ourselves. 23ut the whim we ha-e of 'appiness is somewhat thus. 3y certain -aluations, and a-erages, of our own stri#ing, we come upon some sort of a-erage terrestrial lot; this we fancy belongs to us by nature, and of indefeasible right. It is simple payment of our wages, of our deserts; requires neither than#s nor complaint; only such overplus as there may be do we account 'appiness; any deficit again is Misery. 0ow consider that we ha-e the -aluation of our own deserts oursel-es, and what a fund of &elf%conceit there is in each of us, 1 do you wonder that the balance should so often dip the wrong way, and many a 3loc#head cry. &ee there, what a payment; was e-er worthy

gentleman so used4 1 I tell thee, 3loc#head, it all comes of thy 5anity; of what thou fanciest those same deserts of thine to be. Fancy that thou deser-est to be hanged 6as is most li#ely7, thou wilt feel it happiness to be only shot. fancy that thou deser-est to be hanged in a hair%halter, it will be a lu8ury to die in hemp. 2&o true is it, what I then said, that the Fraction of Life can be increased in value not so much by increasing your Numerator as by lessening your Denominator. 0ay, unless my (lgebra decei-e me, Unityitself di-ided by ero will gi-e !nfinity. Ma#e thy claim of wages a 9ero, then; thou hast the world under thy feet. ell did the isest of our time write. :It is only with ;enunciation 6"ntsagen7 that <ife, properly spea#ing, can be said to begin.
Carlyle as preacher on a -ariety of lay sub5ects
Criti5%es of ,tilitarianism" En!%strialism an! Economic ;iberalism FThomas Carlyle: Signs of the Times; from Chartism: cha)ters E (Condition of England Question)" 7E (Laissez-faire) an! 7EE (Not Laissez-faire). from Past and Present: Boo- EEE #cha)ter EE ( os!el of Mammonism); cha)ter GE (La"our). Con!ition of the Bor-in& Classes" an! the Di(isionH4ana&ement of ;abo%r FThomas Carlyle : from Past and Present: Boo- EEE- cha)ter E7 (#a!!$); cha)ter GE (La"our). Boo- E7 # cha)ter E7 (Ca!tains of %ndustr$)

<igns of the Times ()402

It is the Age of Machinery, in every outward and inward sense of that word; the age which, with its whole undivided might, forwards, teaches and practises the great art of adapting means to ends. Nothing is now done directly, or by hand; all is by rule and calculated contrivance. For the simplest operation, some helps and accompaniments, some cunning abbreviating process is in readiness. Our old modes of exertion are all discredited, and thrown aside. On every hand, the living artisan is driven from his workshop, to make room for a speedier, inanimate one. The shuttle drops from the fingers of the weaver, and falls into iron fingers that ply it faster. The sailor furls his sail, and lays [100/101] down his oar; and bids a strong, unwearied servant, on vaporous wings, bear him through the waters.() There is no end to machinery. Even the horse is stripped of his harness, and finds a fleet fire-horse invoked in his stead. Nay, we have an artist that hatches chickens by steam; the very brood-hen is to be superseded! For all earthly, and for some unearthly purposes, we have machines and mechanic furtherances; for mincing our cabbages; for casting us into magnetic sleep. We remove mountains, and make seas our smooth highways; nothing can resist us. We war with rude Nature; and, by our resistless engines, come off always victorious, and loaded with spoils.

Chartism ()472(9= Frasers Magazine

To believe practically that the poor and luckless are here only as a nuisance to be abraded and abated, and in some permissible manner made away with, and swept out of sight, is not au amiable faith. That the arrangements of good and ill success in this perplexed scramble of a world, which a blind goddess was always thought to preside over, are in fact the work of a seeing goddess or god, and require only not to be meddled with : what stretch of heroic faculty or inspiration of genius was needed to teach one that ? To button your pockets and stand still, is no complex recipe. aisse! faire, laisse! passer " #hatever goes on, ought it not to go on $ % the widow picking nettles for her children%s dinner, and the perfumed seigneur delicately lounging in the &'il-du-(oeuf, who has an alchemy whereby he will extract from her the third nettle, and name it rent and law ?% #hat is written and enacted, has it not black-on-white to shew for itself? )ustice is *ustice $ but all attorney%s parchment is of the nature of Targum or sacred-parchment. +n brief, ours is a world requiring only to be well let alone. ,cramble along, thou insane scramble of a world, with thy pope%s tiaras, king%s mantles and beggar%s gabardines, chivalry-ribbons and plebeian gallows-ro*oes, where a -aul shall die on the gibbet and a .ero sit fiddling as imperial &a*sar $ thou art all right, and shalt scramble even so $ and whoever in the press is trodden down, has only to lie there and be trampled broad : / ,uch at bottom seems to be the chief social principle, if principle it have 012

Past and Present ()497 >ospel of 6ammonnism

For there is one Reality among so many Phantasms; about one thing we are entirely in earnest: The making of money. Working Mammonism does divide the world with idle game- reserving !ilettantism:"thank #eaven that there is even a Mammonism$ anything we are in earnest about% &dleness is worst$ &dleness alone is without ho e: work earnestly at anything$ you will by degrees learn to work at almost all things. There is endless ho e in work$ were it even work at making money. True$ it must be owned$ we for the resent$ with our Mammon-'os el$ have (ome to strange (on(lusions. We (all it a )o(iety; and go about rofessing o enly the totalest se aration$ isolation. *ur life is not a mutual hel fulness; but rather$ (loaked under due laws-of-war$ named +fair (om etition+ and so forth$ it is a mutual hostility. We have rofoundly forgotten everywhere that Cash-payment is not the sole relation of human beings; we think$ nothing doubting$ that it absolves and li,uidates all

engagements of man. -My starving workers.- answers the ri(h mill-owner: -!id not & hire them fairly in the market. !id & not ay them$ to the last si/ en(e$ the sum (ovenanted for. What have & to do with them more.-"0erily Mammon-worshi is a melan(holy (reed. When 1ain$ for his own behoof$ had killed 2bel$ and was ,uestioned$ -Where is thy brother.- he too made answer$ -2m & my brother+s kee er.!id & not ay my brother his wages$ the thing he had merited from me.

Captains of !ndustry

The ?eaders of !ndustry' if !ndustry is e-er to be led' are -irtually the Captains of the +orld@ if there be no nobleness in them' there ,ill ne-er be an "ristocracy more* Aut let the Captains of !ndustry considerB once again' are they born of other clay than the old Captains of <laughter@ doomed fore-er to be no Chi-alry' but a mere gold(plated Doggery'C,hat the French ,ell name Canaille' DDoggeryD ,ith more or less gold carrion at its disposal. Captains of !ndustry are the true Fighters' henceforth recognisable as the only true onesB Fighters against Chaos' Eecessity and the De-ils and $Ftuns@ and lead on 6an&ind in that great' and alone true' and uni-ersal ,arfare@ the stars in their courses fighting for them' and all #ea-en and all Earth saying audibly' +ell doneG ?et the Captains of !ndustry retire into their o,n hearts' and as& solemnly' !f there is nothing but -ulturous hunger' for fine ,ines' -alet reputation and gilt carriages' disco-erable there. Of hearts made by the "lmighty >od ! ,ill not belie-e such a thing* (H there is yet' in all hearts born into this >odDs(+orld' a spar& of the >odli&e slumbering* ",a&e' O nightmare sleepers@ a,a&e' arise' or be fore-er fallenG This is not playhouse poetry@ it is sober fact* Our England' our ,orld cannot li-e as it is* !t ,ill connect itself ,ith a >od again' or go do,n ,ith nameless throes and fire(consummation to the De-ils*

"t times' spea&ing of parado/es and parado/ically' Carlyle spea&s li&e a 5o&ing Prophet about8to the modern ,orldB

! apprise the 6ill(o,ner and 6illionaire' that he too must prepare for -anishing@ that neither is he born to be of the so-ereigns of this ,orld@ that he ,ill ha-e to be trampled and chained do,n in ,hate-er terrible ,ays' and brass(collared safe' among the born thralls of this ,orldG

Democracy "s all conser-ati-es' Carlyle is afraid of the po,er that uninstructed multitudes can represent (the point of -ie, of Edmund Aur&e on the French %e-olution and of Carlyle himself in The French %e-olution' the title of Carlyles most popular boo& of )471 *

Iou do not allo, a palpable madman to leap o-er precipices@ you -iolate his liberty' you that are ,ise@ and &eep him' ,ere it in strait( ,aistcoats' a,ay from the precipicesG E-ery stupid' e-ery co,ardly and foolish man is but a less palpable madmanB his true liberty ,ere that a ,iser man' that any and e-ery ,iser man' could' by brass collars' or in ,hate-er milder or sharper ,ay' lay hold of him ,hen he ,as going ,rong' and order and compel him to go a little righter* O' if thou really art my Senior' <eigneur' my Elder' Presbyter or Priest'Cif thou art in -ery deed my Wiser' may a beneficent instinct lead and impel thee to DconJuerD me' to command meG !f thou do &no, better than ! ,hat is good and right' ! con5ure thee in the name of >od' force me to do it@ ,ere it by ne-er such brass collars' ,hips and handcuffs' lea-e me not to ,al& o-er precipicesG That ! ha-e been called' by all the Ee,spapers' a Dfree manD ,ill a-ail me little' if my pilgrimage ha-e ended in death and ,rec&* O that the Ee,spapers had called me sla-e' co,ard' fool' or ,hat it pleased their s,eet -oices to name me' and ! had attained not death' but lifeGC?iberty reJuires ne, definitions* (H* DDemocracy' ,hich means despair of finding any #eroes to go-ern you' and contented putting(up ,ith the ,ant of them'Calas' thou too'mein Lieber' seest ,ell ho, close it is of &in to Atheism' and

other sad IsmsB he ,ho disco-ers no >od ,hate-er' ho, shall he disco-er #eroes' the -isible Temples of >od.C<trange enough mean,hile it is' to obser-e ,ith ,hat thoughtlessness' here in our rigidly Conser-ati-e Country' men rush into Democracy ,ith full cry*

<pea&ing about heroism in the modern ,orld' in On eroes! ero"Worshi# and the eroi$ in istory ()49=() to select the Man of Letters and the Poet as the heirs of heroism in the modern ,orld is perhaps Carlyles distincti-e contribution to the history of modern ideas* These t,o prototypes of heroism can become leaders of human multitudes*

The first category of modern heroism to be met ,ith in the #ero as 6an of ?etters has an e/emplary moral profile' free from s&epticism (see ?ecture V
( Hero-Gods, Prophets, Poets, Priests are forms of Heroism that belong to the old ages, make their appearance in the remotest times; some of them have ceased to be possible long since, and cannot any more show themselves in this world. The Hero as Man of Letters, again, of which class we are to speak to-day, is altogether a product of these new ages; and so long as the wondrous art of Writing, or of Ready-writing which we call Printing, subsists, he may be expected to continue, as one of the main forms of Heroism for all future ages. He is, in various respects, a very singular phenomenon.. ( this same Man-of-Letters Hero must be regarded as our most important modern person. He, such as he may be, is the soul of all. What he teaches, the whole world will do and make. a Great Soul living apart in that anomalous manner; endeavoring to speak forth the inspiration that was in him by Printed Books, and find place and subsistence by what the world would please to give him for doing that. ruling (for this is what he does), from his grave, after death, whole nations and generations who would, or would not, give him bread while living Examples of Men of Letters: Goethe, Rousseau, Dr. Johnson men of the eighteenth century The Eighteenth was a Sceptical Century; in which little word there is a whole Pandora's Box of miseries. Scepticism means not intellectual Doubt alone, but moral Doubt; all sorts of infidelity, insincerity, spiritual paralysis. Perhaps, in few centuries that one could specify since the world began, was a life of Heroism more difficult for a man. That was not an age of Faith, an age of Heroes! The very possibility of Heroism had been, as it were, formally abnegated in the minds of all. Heroism was gone forever; Triviality, Formulism and Commonplace were come forever. Johnsons portrait:

Johnson's youth was poor, isolated, hopeless, very miserable. Indeed, it does not seem possible that, in any the favorablest outward circumstances, Johnson's life could have been other than a painful one. (he lived in a garret and had worn-out shoes) A hard-struggling, weary-hearted man, or "scholar" as he calls himself, trying hard to get some honest livelihood in the world, not to starve, but to live without stealing! A noble unconsciousness is in him. He does not "engrave Truth on his watch-seal;" no, but he stands by truth, speaks by it, works and lives by it. The highest Gospel he preached we may describe as a kind of Moral Prudence: "in a world where much is to be done, and little is to be known," see how you will do it! A thing well worth preaching. "A world where much is to be done, and little is to be known:" do not sink yourselves in boundless bottomless abysses of Doubt, of wretched god-forgetting Unbelief; you were miserable then, powerless, mad: how could you do or work at all?

The second category of modern heroism' that of Poets' o,es its prestige to the fact that it maintains contact ,ith spiritual depth and ele-ation* "lthough Juite chaotically by comparison ,ith 6ills KThoughts on Poetry and !ts VarietiesL' Carlyle selects some distinguishing mar&s for poetryB intensity' nobility' po,er of -ision' calmness of depth' 5oyous strengthB

Intensity

For the intense Dante is intense in all things@ he has got into the essence of all* #is intellectual insight as painter' on occasion too as reasoner' is but the result of all other sorts of intensity*
"nd earlier'

DanteDs painting is not graphic only' brief' true' and of a -i-idness as of fire in dar& night@ ta&en on the ,ider scale' it is e-ery ,ay noble' and the outcome of a great soul*

<pea&ing KOf this <ha&espeare of oursL' Carlyle says B

On the ,hole' ! &no, not such a po,er of -ision' such a faculty of thought' if ,e ta&e all the characters of it' in any other man* <uch a calmness of depth@ placid 5oyous strength@ all things imaged in that great soul of his so true and clear' as in a tranJuil unfathomable seaG

+hen Carlyle offered Dr* $ohnson' Dante and <ha&espeare as e/amples of modern heroism' he created a cultural canon* #e ,as the first of the Victorians to establish cultural canons* "fter,ards' $ohn %us&in and 6atthe, "rnold did the same in the nineteenth century* The latter t,o ,ere contested by the aesthetic critic +alter Pater and by the decadent aestheticist artist at the turn of the nineteenth century' but the tendency to canoni;e continued in the t,entieth century' at the beginning ,ith T*<* Eliot (read his )20) essay KTradition and the !ndi-idual TalentL and at the end of the t,entieth century in the boo& KThe +estern Canon : The Aoo&s and <chools of "gesL ,ritten in "merica by #arold Aloom in )229*

Carlyles ideas in fighting against the "ge of 6achinery inspired the Pre(%aphaelite mo-ement' $ohn %us&ins socialist plea against modern in5ustice and Oscar +ildes ad-ocating the liberation of the industrial e-erymans soul from the tyranny of industry* Carlyle also inspired 6atthe, "rnolds militant humanism and the return to the classics*