The Hesperian / (Lincoln, Neb.) 1885-1899, March 01, 1891, Page 3, Image 3

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    THE HESPERIAN.
themselves, and to the institution they represent.
None of them are indulging in blustering talk, but
each one has settled down to the commendable oc
cupation known as "sawing wood."
As a means of breaking- the news gently to those
interested, we will state that the university orator
will be "there or there abouts" when the decision is
made at the state contest.
It is to be hoped, that there will be an item in
the coming appropriations, providing for the improve
m'eht of-the campus.
LITERARY.
Peihaps no man who has ever stood before (he public as
an English author was thoroughly un-English as Thomas
Carlylc. His life, his habits, anil his literature were most
decidedly German. The mansion on Piccadilly, the sedate
tea parlies, the literary clubs, and even the coveted tomb in
old Westminster, so dear to the heart of every Englishman,
weic tilings of no moment to Carlyh. He was a rcckuc, net
thntMic had any aversion for men, but that he loved his books
and loved Name better. He saw little of society; yet, though
he never bent his knee to it, he never trampledupon its laws.
He was merely indifferent to it, for he was one of the few men
who can live uttcily independent of it, while those who con
demn it most severely, cling to it as the only thing which
can give them zest or ambition enough to live. He respected
social laws, for they arc the outgrowth of man's honest sen
timents oi what is best to be done in his conduct toward his
fellows. He revered any production of the hand or of the
mind ol man, be it some old rune cut upon stone in an
English forest, or a social code which allotted to his higher,
stronger nature and passions the same sphere of action as to
every coal heaver on the streets of London, lie said but
little of the great vices of the time or of the wrongs which he
himself suffered. He bore no sense of enmity toward any
one; he only pitied, with all the strength of his great heart,
pitted everything that lived.
Carlylc posed but poorly as a political economist. I lis
love and sympathy for humanity were boundless, and he under
stood great minds and earnest souls as no other man ever
has. In this lay his power as a biographer and as a historian.
He could undersand how the Marsellaise might set men's
hearts on fire; the storming of the liastile, and the revolt of
the women, pictures after his own heart, in which the hot
blood of the old sea kings still rnge'd. The passions and the
sincerity of the French revolution made it sacred' to him.
Iiut of the liberals of his own country, men who demanded
rights but never shed one drop of honest blood in defense
of them; whose revolts were mere riots, instigated neither by
principle nor by patriotism, but by sullen anger; whose aspi
rations rose from an ale glass, and found their tomb therein
of these he understood nothing; they were dark enigmas to
him; he was "above them all, alone with the stars." More
over, Carlylc was not a practical man. He knew, for instance,
that education is the right of every man, and that it is the
most potent factor in the suppression of crime. Hut when
the English liberals rushed upon him, asking whether educa
tion should be compulsory; at what age this compulsory
education should begin; at whose expense; and whether the
always, with a great genius, and a soul sincere as truth itself.
He could handle the most profound problem in metaphysics
delicately enough, but he was dull and bungling when he
tried to grasp political theories. Perhaps the gist of the
whole matter was, that he was always looking for a cause, or
for its effect in everything, both of which arc somewhat
difficult to find in modem English politics. He was always
dreaming too, one half his heart was always in Valhalla.
The best traits of character, and the strongest powers of his
mind belonged to other times nnd to other people.
He went far out into one of the most desolate spots of
Scotland, and made his home there. There among the wild
heaths, and black marshes, and grim dark forests, which
have remained unchanged since the time of the Picts and
the Saxons, he did his lut wjrk. H:dr.:v -hU strength
from those wild landscapes; he breathed into himself the
fury of the winds; the strength of the storm went into his
blood. Carlylc was the greatest painter in England. His
pictures were not wild sketches of imagination, but were
photographs from nature.
Like Scott, he lived much in the open air, and might be
seen evening after evening striding the heath, or climbing
the rocky hills, his tall, angular figure, braced to the wind,
standing out sharply against the stormy red sunset.
It is well known that Carlylc's married life was not
strictly a happy one, and that Mrs. Carlylc sometime com
plained bitterly of his indifference to her. The wife of an
artist, if he continues to be an artist, must always be a sec
ondary consideration with him; she should realize that from
the outset. Art of every kind is an exacting master, more
so even than Jehovah, lie says only, "Thou shall have no
other gods before me." Art, science, and letters cry, "Thou
shalt have no oilier gods at all." They accept only human
sacrifices. There arc few women who love an abstract ideal
well enough to sec this, fewer still who like Mary Shelley,
will honor it, and submit to such treatment without jealousy.
It is very likdy that Carlylc used violent language when
interrupted in one of the soliloquies of Teiifckdrockh to be
informed that his coffee was ready. Very likely Mrs. Carlylc
was much hurt and grieved; she certainly made excellent
coffee. She would have liked it better if he had lived in
London, and put on a white tiu and a dress coat, and gone
to the receptions. She haled this solitude which was her
husband's inspiration, and indeed it must have been very
unpleasant for her. The lack of harmony in their conjugal
relations was.duc to the faults of neither, but was merely a
very unfortunate circumstance.
Carlylc's was one ol the most intensely reverent natures
of which there is any knowledge. He saw the divine in
everything. His every act was a form of worship, yet it was
fortunate that he did not enter the ministry. He would have
been well enough in the pulpit, though he would have
preached on Scandinavian mythology, and on the Hindoo,
as well as on the Hebrew faith; but he could never have
smiled benignly al the deaconess' tea parties, nor have praised
the deacon's stock, nor have done the thousand other little
things requisite for success. The minister of to-day should be as
slircwa a wire-puiier as me politician, lie would nave gone
to the kirk with the very best intentions, and, being sud
denly struck with some idea while as'ccnding his pulpit stairs,
would have made an eloquent nnd a po.verful address upon
the doctrines of Buddha, at which his audience would cither
have gone to sleep, or have been shocked, as they happened
to feel listless or irritable. He was too passionately, too
intensely religious to confine himself to anyone creed. He
schdols'shbuld be sectarian, he was utterly achast. He was
onlyan " awkward felloV, born a peasant and a peasant') could never see why Saint Peter's and the Coliseum should