e incurable.
He lived in an atmosphere of disdain. "The English people," said he,
"number some thirty millions,--mostly fools." His friends expostulated
with him for giving utterance to such bitter expressions, and for
holding such gloomy views. John Mill was mortally offended, and walked
no more with him. De Quincey said, "You have made a new hole in your
society kettle: how do you propose to mend it?"
Yet all this while Carlyle had not lost faith in Providence, as it
might seem, but felt that God would inflict calamities on peoples for
their sins. He resembled Savonarola more than he did Voltaire. What
seemed to some to be mockeries were really the earnest protests of his
soul against universal corruption, to be followed by downward courses
and retribution. His mind was morbid from intense reflection on certain
evils, and from his physical ailments. He doubtless grieved and
alienated his best friends by his diatribes against popular education
and free institutions. He even appeared to lean to despotism and the
rule of tyrants, provided only they were strong.
Thus Carlyle destroyed his influence, even while he moved the mind to
reflection. It was seen and felt that he had no sympathy with many
movements designed to benefit society, and that he cherished utter scorn
for many active philanthropists. In his bitterness, wrath, and disdain
he became himself intolerant. In some of his wild utterances he brought
upon himself almost universal reproach, as when he said, "I never
thought the rights of negroes worth much discussing, nor the rights of
man in any form,"--a sentiment which militated against his whole
philosophy. In this strange and unhappy mood of mind, the "Latter Day
Pamphlets," "Past and Present," and other essays were written, which
undermined the reverence in which he had been held. These were the
blots on his great career, which may be traced to sickness and a
disordered mind.
In fact, Carlyle cannot be called a sound writer at any period. He
contradicts himself. He is a great painter, a prose-poet, a
satirist,--not a philosopher; perhaps the most suggestive writer of the
nineteenth century, often giving utterance to the grandest thoughts, yet
not a safe guide at all times, since he is inconsistent and full of
exaggerations.
The morbid and unhealthy tone of Carlyle's mind at this period may be
seen by an extract from one of his letters to Sterling:--
"I see almost nobody. I avoid sight, rather, and
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