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diff --git a/1091-h/1091-h.htm b/1091-h/1091-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..71664e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/1091-h/1091-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8095 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + On Heroes, Hero-worship, and the Heroic in History, by Thomas Carlyle + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1091 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + ON HEROES, HERO-WORSHIP,<br /> AND THE HEROIC IN HISTORY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Thomas Carlyle + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>Transcriber's Note:</b> + </p> + <p> + The text is taken from the printed "Sterling Edition" of Carlyle's + Complete Works, in 20 volumes, with the following modifications made in + the etext version: Italicized text is delimited by underscores, <i>thusly</i>. + The footnote (there is only one) has been embedded directly into text, in + brackets, [thusly]. Greek text has been transliterated into Latin + characters with the notation [Gr.] juxtaposed. Otherwise, the punctuation + and spelling of the print version have been retained. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>LECTURES ON HEROES.</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> LECTURE I. THE HERO AS DIVINITY. ODIN. + PAGANISM: SCANDINAVIAN MYTHOLOGY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> LECTURE II. THE HERO AS PROPHET. MAHOMET: + ISLAM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> LECTURE III. THE HERO AS POET. DANTE: + SHAKSPEARE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> LECTURE IV. THE HERO AS PRIEST. LUTHER; + REFORMATION: KNOX; PURITANISM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> LECTURE V. THE HERO AS MAN OF LETTERS. + JOHNSON, ROUSSEAU, BURNS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> LECTURE VI. THE HERO AS KING. CROMWELL, + NAPOLEON: MODERN REVOLUTIONISM. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + LECTURES ON HEROES. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + LECTURE I. THE HERO AS DIVINITY. ODIN. PAGANISM: SCANDINAVIAN MYTHOLOGY. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 5, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + We have undertaken to discourse here for a little on Great Men, their + manner of appearance in our world's business, how they have shaped + themselves in the world's history, what ideas men formed of them, what + work they did;—on Heroes, namely, and on their reception and + performance; what I call Hero-worship and the Heroic in human affairs. Too + evidently this is a large topic; deserving quite other treatment than we + can expect to give it at present. A large topic; indeed, an illimitable + one; wide as Universal History itself. For, as I take it, Universal + History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at + bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here. They were the + leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns, and in a wide + sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or + to attain; all things that we see standing accomplished in the world are + properly the outer material result, the practical realization and + embodiment, of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world: + the soul of the whole world's history, it may justly be considered, were + the history of these. Too clearly it is a topic we shall do no justice to + in this place! + </p> + <p> + One comfort is, that Great Men, taken up in any way, are profitable + company. We cannot look, however imperfectly, upon a great man, without + gaining something by him. He is the living light-fountain, which it is + good and pleasant to be near. The light which enlightens, which has + enlightened the darkness of the world; and this not as a kindled lamp + only, but rather as a natural luminary shining by the gift of Heaven; a + flowing light-fountain, as I say, of native original insight, of manhood + and heroic nobleness;—in whose radiance all souls feel that it is + well with them. On any terms whatsoever, you will not grudge to wander in + such neighborhood for a while. These Six classes of Heroes, chosen out of + widely distant countries and epochs, and in mere external figure differing + altogether, ought, if we look faithfully at them, to illustrate several + things for us. Could we see them well, we should get some glimpses into + the very marrow of the world's history. How happy, could I but, in any + measure, in such times as these, make manifest to you the meanings of + Heroism; the divine relation (for I may well call it such) which in all + times unites a Great Man to other men; and thus, as it were, not exhaust + my subject, but so much as break ground on it! At all events, I must make + the attempt. + </p> + <p> + It is well said, in every sense, that a man's religion is the chief fact + with regard to him. A man's, or a nation of men's. By religion I do not + mean here the church-creed which he professes, the articles of faith which + he will sign and, in words or otherwise, assert; not this wholly, in many + cases not this at all. We see men of all kinds of professed creeds attain + to almost all degrees of worth or worthlessness under each or any of them. + This is not what I call religion, this profession and assertion; which is + often only a profession and assertion from the outworks of the man, from + the mere argumentative region of him, if even so deep as that. But the + thing a man does practically believe (and this is often enough <i>without</i> + asserting it even to himself, much less to others); the thing a man does + practically lay to heart, and know for certain, concerning his vital + relations to this mysterious Universe, and his duty and destiny there, + that is in all cases the primary thing for him, and creatively determines + all the rest. That is his <i>religion</i>; or, it may be, his mere + scepticism and <i>no-religion</i>: the manner it is in which he feels + himself to be spiritually related to the Unseen World or No-World; and I + say, if you tell me what that is, you tell me to a very great extent what + the man is, what the kind of things he will do is. Of a man or of a nation + we inquire, therefore, first of all, What religion they had? Was it + Heathenism,—plurality of gods, mere sensuous representation of this + Mystery of Life, and for chief recognized element therein Physical Force? + Was it Christianism; faith in an Invisible, not as real only, but as the + only reality; Time, through every meanest moment of it, resting on + Eternity; Pagan empire of Force displaced by a nobler supremacy, that of + Holiness? Was it Scepticism, uncertainty and inquiry whether there was an + Unseen World, any Mystery of Life except a mad one;—doubt as to all + this, or perhaps unbelief and flat denial? Answering of this question is + giving us the soul of the history of the man or nation. The thoughts they + had were the parents of the actions they did; their feelings were parents + of their thoughts: it was the unseen and spiritual in them that determined + the outward and actual;—their religion, as I say, was the great fact + about them. In these Discourses, limited as we are, it will be good to + direct our survey chiefly to that religious phasis of the matter. That + once known well, all is known. We have chosen as the first Hero in our + series Odin the central figure of Scandinavian Paganism; an emblem to us + of a most extensive province of things. Let us look for a little at the + Hero as Divinity, the oldest primary form of Heroism. + </p> + <p> + Surely it seems a very strange-looking thing this Paganism; almost + inconceivable to us in these days. A bewildering, inextricable jungle of + delusions, confusions, falsehoods, and absurdities, covering the whole + field of Life! A thing that fills us with astonishment, almost, if it were + possible, with incredulity,—for truly it is not easy to understand + that sane men could ever calmly, with their eyes open, believe and live by + such a set of doctrines. That men should have worshipped their poor + fellow-man as a God, and not him only, but stocks and stones, and all + manner of animate and inanimate objects; and fashioned for themselves such + a distracted chaos of hallucinations by way of Theory of the Universe: all + this looks like an incredible fable. Nevertheless it is a clear fact that + they did it. Such hideous inextricable jungle of misworships, misbeliefs, + men, made as we are, did actually hold by, and live at home in. This is + strange. Yes, we may pause in sorrow and silence over the depths of + darkness that are in man; if we rejoice in the heights of purer vision he + has attained to. Such things were and are in man; in all men; in us too. + </p> + <p> + Some speculators have a short way of accounting for the Pagan religion: + mere quackery, priestcraft, and dupery, say they; no sane man ever did + believe it,—merely contrived to persuade other men, not worthy of + the name of sane, to believe it! It will be often our duty to protest + against this sort of hypothesis about men's doings and history; and I + here, on the very threshold, protest against it in reference to Paganism, + and to all other <i>isms</i> by which man has ever for a length of time + striven to walk in this world. They have all had a truth in them, or men + would not have taken them up. Quackery and dupery do abound; in religions, + above all in the more advanced decaying stages of religions, they have + fearfully abounded: but quackery was never the originating influence in + such things; it was not the health and life of such things, but their + disease, the sure precursor of their being about to die! Let us never + forget this. It seems to me a most mournful hypothesis, that of quackery + giving birth to any faith even in savage men. Quackery gives birth to + nothing; gives death to all things. We shall not see into the true heart + of anything, if we look merely at the quackeries of it; if we do not + reject the quackeries altogether; as mere diseases, corruptions, with + which our and all men's sole duty is to have done with them, to sweep them + out of our thoughts as out of our practice. Man everywhere is the born + enemy of lies. I find Grand Lamaism itself to have a kind of truth in it. + Read the candid, clear-sighted, rather sceptical Mr. Turner's <i>Account + of his Embassy</i> to that country, and see. They have their belief, these + poor Thibet people, that Providence sends down always an Incarnation of + Himself into every generation. At bottom some belief in a kind of Pope! At + bottom still better, belief that there is a <i>Greatest</i> Man; that <i>he</i> + is discoverable; that, once discovered, we ought to treat him with an + obedience which knows no bounds! This is the truth of Grand Lamaism; the + "discoverability" is the only error here. The Thibet priests have methods + of their own of discovering what Man is Greatest, fit to be supreme over + them. Bad methods: but are they so much worse than our methods,—of + understanding him to be always the eldest-born of a certain genealogy? + Alas, it is a difficult thing to find good methods for!—We shall + begin to have a chance of understanding Paganism, when we first admit that + to its followers it was, at one time, earnestly true. Let us consider it + very certain that men did believe in Paganism; men with open eyes, sound + senses, men made altogether like ourselves; that we, had we been there, + should have believed in it. Ask now, What Paganism could have been? + </p> + <p> + Another theory, somewhat more respectable, attributes such things to + Allegory. It was a play of poetic minds, say these theorists; a shadowing + forth, in allegorical fable, in personification and visual form, of what + such poetic minds had known and felt of this Universe. Which agrees, add + they, with a primary law of human nature, still everywhere observably at + work, though in less important things, That what a man feels intensely, he + struggles to speak out of him, to see represented before him in visual + shape, and as if with a kind of life and historical reality in it. Now + doubtless there is such a law, and it is one of the deepest in human + nature; neither need we doubt that it did operate fundamentally in this + business. The hypothesis which ascribes Paganism wholly or mostly to this + agency, I call a little more respectable; but I cannot yet call it the + true hypothesis. Think, would <i>we</i> believe, and take with us as our + life-guidance, an allegory, a poetic sport? Not sport but earnest is what + we should require. It is a most earnest thing to be alive in this world; + to die is not sport for a man. Man's life never was a sport to him; it was + a stern reality, altogether a serious matter to be alive! + </p> + <p> + I find, therefore, that though these Allegory theorists are on the way + towards truth in this matter, they have not reached it either. Pagan + Religion is indeed an Allegory, a Symbol of what men felt and knew about + the Universe; and all Religions are symbols of that, altering always as + that alters: but it seems to me a radical perversion, and even inversion, + of the business, to put that forward as the origin and moving cause, when + it was rather the result and termination. To get beautiful allegories, a + perfect poetic symbol, was not the want of men; but to know what they were + to believe about this Universe, what course they were to steer in it; + what, in this mysterious Life of theirs, they had to hope and to fear, to + do and to forbear doing. The <i>Pilgrim's Progress</i> is an Allegory, and + a beautiful, just and serious one: but consider whether Bunyan's Allegory + could have <i>preceded</i> the Faith it symbolizes! The Faith had to be + already there, standing believed by everybody;—of which the Allegory + could <i>then</i> become a shadow; and, with all its seriousness, we may + say a <i>sportful</i> shadow, a mere play of the Fancy, in comparison with + that awful Fact and scientific certainty which it poetically strives to + emblem. The Allegory is the product of the certainty, not the producer of + it; not in Bunyan's nor in any other case. For Paganism, therefore, we + have still to inquire, Whence came that scientific certainty, the parent + of such a bewildered heap of allegories, errors and confusions? How was + it, what was it? + </p> + <p> + Surely it were a foolish attempt to pretend "explaining," in this place, + or in any place, such a phenomenon as that far-distant distracted cloudy + imbroglio of Paganism,—more like a cloud-field than a distant + continent of firm land and facts! It is no longer a reality, yet it was + one. We ought to understand that this seeming cloud-field was once a + reality; that not poetic allegory, least of all that dupery and deception + was the origin of it. Men, I say, never did believe idle songs, never + risked their soul's life on allegories: men in all times, especially in + early earnest times, have had an instinct for detecting quacks, for + detesting quacks. Let us try if, leaving out both the quack theory and the + allegory one, and listening with affectionate attention to that far-off + confused rumor of the Pagan ages, we cannot ascertain so much as this at + least, That there was a kind of fact at the heart of them; that they too + were not mendacious and distracted, but in their own poor way true and + sane! + </p> + <p> + You remember that fancy of Plato's, of a man who had grown to maturity in + some dark distance, and was brought on a sudden into the upper air to see + the sun rise. What would his wonder be, his rapt astonishment at the sight + we daily witness with indifference! With the free open sense of a child, + yet with the ripe faculty of a man, his whole heart would be kindled by + that sight, he would discern it well to be Godlike, his soul would fall + down in worship before it. Now, just such a childlike greatness was in the + primitive nations. The first Pagan Thinker among rude men, the first man + that began to think, was precisely this child-man of Plato's. Simple, open + as a child, yet with the depth and strength of a man. Nature had as yet no + name to him; he had not yet united under a name the infinite variety of + sights, sounds, shapes and motions, which we now collectively name + Universe, Nature, or the like,—and so with a name dismiss it from + us. To the wild deep-hearted man all was yet new, not veiled under names + or formulas; it stood naked, flashing in on him there, beautiful, awful, + unspeakable. Nature was to this man, what to the Thinker and Prophet it + forever is, preternatural. This green flowery rock-built earth, the trees, + the mountains, rivers, many-sounding seas;—that great deep sea of + azure that swims overhead; the winds sweeping through it; the black cloud + fashioning itself together, now pouring out fire, now hail and rain; what + <i>is</i> it? Ay, what? At bottom we do not yet know; we can never know at + all. It is not by our superior insight that we escape the difficulty; it + is by our superior levity, our inattention, our <i>want</i> of insight. It + is by <i>not</i> thinking that we cease to wonder at it. Hardened round + us, encasing wholly every notion we form, is a wrappage of traditions, + hearsays, mere <i>words</i>. We call that fire of the black thunder-cloud + "electricity," and lecture learnedly about it, and grind the like of it + out of glass and silk: but <i>what</i> is it? What made it? Whence comes + it? Whither goes it? Science has done much for us; but it is a poor + science that would hide from us the great deep sacred infinitude of + Nescience, whither we can never penetrate, on which all science swims as a + mere superficial film. This world, after all our science and sciences, is + still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, <i>magical</i> and more, to + whosoever will <i>think</i> of it. + </p> + <p> + That great mystery of TIME, were there no other; the illimitable, silent, + never-resting thing called Time, rolling, rushing on, swift, silent, like + an all-embracing ocean-tide, on which we and all the Universe swim like + exhalations, like apparitions which are, and then are <i>not</i>: this is + forever very literally a miracle; a thing to strike us dumb,—for we + have no word to speak about it. This Universe, ah me—what could the + wild man know of it; what can we yet know? That it is a Force, and + thousand-fold Complexity of Forces; a Force which is <i>not</i> we. That + is all; it is not we, it is altogether different from us. Force, Force, + everywhere Force; we ourselves a mysterious Force in the centre of that. + "There is not a leaf rotting on the highway but has Force in it; how else + could it rot?" Nay surely, to the Atheistic Thinker, if such a one were + possible, it must be a miracle too, this huge illimitable whirlwind of + Force, which envelops us here; never-resting whirlwind, high as Immensity, + old as Eternity. What is it? God's Creation, the religious people answer; + it is the Almighty God's! Atheistic science babbles poorly of it, with + scientific nomenclatures, experiments and what not, as if it were a poor + dead thing, to be bottled up in Leyden jars and sold over counters: but + the natural sense of man, in all times, if he will honestly apply his + sense, proclaims it to be a living thing,—ah, an unspeakable, + godlike thing; towards which the best attitude for us, after never so much + science, is awe, devout prostration and humility of soul; worship if not + in words, then in silence. + </p> + <p> + But now I remark farther: What in such a time as ours it requires a + Prophet or Poet to teach us, namely, the stripping-off of those poor + undevout wrappages, nomenclatures and scientific hearsays,—this, the + ancient earnest soul, as yet unencumbered with these things, did for + itself. The world, which is now divine only to the gifted, was then divine + to whosoever would turn his eye upon it. He stood bare before it face to + face. "All was Godlike or God:"—Jean Paul still finds it so; the + giant Jean Paul, who has power to escape out of hearsays: but there then + were no hearsays. Canopus shining down over the desert, with its blue + diamond brightness (that wild blue spirit-like brightness, far brighter + than we ever witness here), would pierce into the heart of the wild + Ishmaelitish man, whom it was guiding through the solitary waste there. To + his wild heart, with all feelings in it, with no <i>speech</i> for any + feeling, it might seem a little eye, that Canopus, glancing out on him + from the great deep Eternity; revealing the inner Splendor to him. Cannot + we understand how these men <i>worshipped</i> Canopus; became what we call + Sabeans, worshipping the stars? Such is to me the secret of all forms of + Paganism. Worship is transcendent wonder; wonder for which there is now no + limit or measure; that is worship. To these primeval men, all things and + everything they saw exist beside them were an emblem of the Godlike, of + some God. + </p> + <p> + And look what perennial fibre of truth was in that. To us also, through + every star, through every blade of grass, is not a God made visible, if we + will open our minds and eyes? We do not worship in that way now: but is it + not reckoned still a merit, proof of what we call a "poetic nature," that + we recognize how every object has a divine beauty in it; how every object + still verily is "a window through which we may look into Infinitude + itself"? He that can discern the loveliness of things, we call him Poet! + Painter, Man of Genius, gifted, lovable. These poor Sabeans did even what + he does,—in their own fashion. That they did it, in what fashion + soever, was a merit: better than what the entirely stupid man did, what + the horse and camel did,—namely, nothing! + </p> + <p> + But now if all things whatsoever that we look upon are emblems to us of + the Highest God, I add that more so than any of them is man such an + emblem. You have heard of St. Chrysostom's celebrated saying in reference + to the Shekinah, or Ark of Testimony, visible Revelation of God, among the + Hebrews: "The true Shekinah is Man!" Yes, it is even so: this is no vain + phrase; it is veritably so. The essence of our being, the mystery in us + that calls itself "I,"—ah, what words have we for such things?—is + a breath of Heaven; the Highest Being reveals himself in man. This body, + these faculties, this life of ours, is it not all as a vesture for that + Unnamed? "There is but one Temple in the Universe," says the devout + Novalis, "and that is the Body of Man. Nothing is holier shall that high + form. Bending before men is a reverence done to this Revelation in the + Flesh. We touch Heaven when we lay our hand on a human body!" This sounds + much like a mere flourish of rhetoric; but it is not so. If well + meditated, it will turn out to be a scientific fact; the expression, in + such words as can be had, of the actual truth of the thing. We are the + miracle of miracles,—the great inscrutable mystery of God. We cannot + understand it, we know not how to speak of it; but we may feel and know, + if we like, that it is verily so. + </p> + <p> + Well; these truths were once more readily felt than now. The young + generations of the world, who had in them the freshness of young children, + and yet the depth of earnest men, who did not think that they had finished + off all things in Heaven and Earth by merely giving them scientific names, + but had to gaze direct at them there, with awe and wonder: they felt + better what of divinity is in man and Nature; they, without being mad, + could <i>worship</i> Nature, and man more than anything else in Nature. + Worship, that is, as I said above, admire without limit: this, in the full + use of their faculties, with all sincerity of heart, they could do. I + consider Hero-worship to be the grand modifying element in that ancient + system of thought. What I called the perplexed jungle of Paganism sprang, + we may say, out of many roots: every admiration, adoration of a star or + natural object, was a root or fibre of a root; but Hero-worship is the + deepest root of all; the tap-root, from which in a great degree all the + rest were nourished and grown. + </p> + <p> + And now if worship even of a star had some meaning in it, how much more + might that of a Hero! Worship of a Hero is transcendent admiration of a + Great Man. I say great men are still admirable; I say there is, at bottom, + nothing else admirable! No nobler feeling than this of admiration for one + higher than himself dwells in the breast of man. It is to this hour, and + at all hours, the vivifying influence in man's life. Religion I find stand + upon it; not Paganism only, but far higher and truer religions,—all + religion hitherto known. Hero-worship, heartfelt prostrate admiration, + submission, burning, boundless, for a noblest godlike Form of Man,—is + not that the germ of Christianity itself? The greatest of all Heroes is + One—whom we do not name here! Let sacred silence meditate that + sacred matter; you will find it the ultimate perfection of a principle + extant throughout man's whole history on earth. + </p> + <p> + Or coming into lower, less unspeakable provinces, is not all Loyalty akin + to religious Faith also? Faith is loyalty to some inspired Teacher, some + spiritual Hero. And what therefore is loyalty proper, the life-breath of + all society, but an effluence of Hero-worship, submissive admiration for + the truly great? Society is founded on Hero-worship. All dignities of + rank, on which human association rests, are what we may call a <i>Hero</i>archy + (Government of Heroes),—or a Hierarchy, for it is "sacred" enough + withal! The Duke means <i>Dux</i>, Leader; King is <i>Kon-ning</i>, <i>Kan-ning</i>, + Man that <i>knows</i> or <i>cans</i>. Society everywhere is some + representation, not insupportably inaccurate, of a graduated Worship of + Heroes—reverence and obedience done to men really great and wise. + Not insupportably inaccurate, I say! They are all as bank-notes, these + social dignitaries, all representing gold;—and several of them, + alas, always are <i>forged</i> notes. We can do with some forged false + notes; with a good many even; but not with all, or the most of them + forged! No: there have to come revolutions then; cries of Democracy, + Liberty and Equality, and I know not what:—the notes being all + false, and no gold to be had for <i>them</i>, people take to crying in + their despair that there is no gold, that there never was any! "Gold," + Hero-worship, <i>is</i> nevertheless, as it was always and everywhere, and + cannot cease till man himself ceases. + </p> + <p> + I am well aware that in these days Hero-worship, the thing I call + Hero-worship, professes to have gone out, and finally ceased. This, for + reasons which it will be worth while some time to inquire into, is an age + that as it were denies the existence of great men; denies the + desirableness of great men. Show our critics a great man, a Luther for + example, they begin to what they call "account" for him; not to worship + him, but take the dimensions of him,—and bring him out to be a + little kind of man! He was the "creature of the Time," they say; the Time + called him forth, the Time did everything, he nothing—but what we + the little critic could have done too! This seems to me but melancholy + work. The Time call forth? Alas, we have known Times <i>call</i> loudly + enough for their great man; but not find him when they called! He was not + there; Providence had not sent him; the Time, <i>calling</i> its loudest, + had to go down to confusion and wreck because he would not come when + called. + </p> + <p> + For if we will think of it, no Time need have gone to ruin, could it have + <i>found</i> a man great enough, a man wise and good enough: wisdom to + discern truly what the Time wanted, valor to lead it on the right road + thither; these are the salvation of any Time. But I liken common languid + Times, with their unbelief, distress, perplexity, with their languid + doubting characters and embarrassed circumstances, impotently crumbling + down into ever worse distress towards final ruin;—all this I liken + to dry dead fuel, waiting for the lightning out of Heaven that shall + kindle it. The great man, with his free force direct out of God's own + hand, is the lightning. His word is the wise healing word which all can + believe in. All blazes round him now, when he has once struck on it, into + fire like his own. The dry mouldering sticks are thought to have called + him forth. They did want him greatly; but as to calling him forth—! + Those are critics of small vision, I think, who cry: "See, is it not the + sticks that made the fire?" No sadder proof can be given by a man of his + own littleness than disbelief in great men. There is no sadder symptom of + a generation than such general blindness to the spiritual lightning, with + faith only in the heap of barren dead fuel. It is the last consummation of + unbelief. In all epochs of the world's history, we shall find the Great + Man to have been the indispensable savior of his epoch;—the + lightning, without which the fuel never would have burnt. The History of + the World, I said already, was the Biography of Great Men. + </p> + <p> + Such small critics do what they can to promote unbelief and universal + spiritual paralysis: but happily they cannot always completely succeed. In + all times it is possible for a man to arise great enough to feel that they + and their doctrines are chimeras and cobwebs. And what is notable, in no + time whatever can they entirely eradicate out of living men's hearts a + certain altogether peculiar reverence for Great Men; genuine admiration, + loyalty, adoration, however dim and perverted it may be. Hero-worship + endures forever while man endures. Boswell venerates his Johnson, right + truly even in the Eighteenth century. The unbelieving French believe in + their Voltaire; and burst out round him into very curious Hero-worship, in + that last act of his life when they "stifle him under roses." It has + always seemed to me extremely curious this of Voltaire. Truly, if + Christianity be the highest instance of Hero-worship, then we may find + here in Voltaireism one of the lowest! He whose life was that of a kind of + Antichrist, does again on this side exhibit a curious contrast. No people + ever were so little prone to admire at all as those French of Voltaire. <i>Persiflage</i> + was the character of their whole mind; adoration had nowhere a place in + it. Yet see! The old man of Ferney comes up to Paris; an old, tottering, + infirm man of eighty-four years. They feel that he too is a kind of Hero; + that he has spent his life in opposing error and injustice, delivering + Calases, unmasking hypocrites in high places;—in short that <i>he</i> + too, though in a strange way, has fought like a valiant man. They feel + withal that, if <i>persiflage</i> be the great thing, there never was such + a <i>persifleur</i>. He is the realized ideal of every one of them; the + thing they are all wanting to be; of all Frenchmen the most French. He is + properly their god,—such god as they are fit for. Accordingly all + persons, from the Queen Antoinette to the Douanier at the Porte St. Denis, + do they not worship him? People of quality disguise themselves as + tavern-waiters. The Maitre de Poste, with a broad oath, orders his + Postilion, "<i>Va bon train</i>; thou art driving M. de Voltaire." At + Paris his carriage is "the nucleus of a comet, whose train fills whole + streets." The ladies pluck a hair or two from his fur, to keep it as a + sacred relic. There was nothing highest, beautifulest, noblest in all + France, that did not feel this man to be higher, beautifuler, nobler. + </p> + <p> + Yes, from Norse Odin to English Samuel Johnson, from the divine Founder of + Christianity to the withered Pontiff of Encyclopedism, in all times and + places, the Hero has been worshipped. It will ever be so. We all love + great men; love, venerate and bow down submissive before great men: nay + can we honestly bow down to anything else? Ah, does not every true man + feel that he is himself made higher by doing reverence to what is really + above him? No nobler or more blessed feeling dwells in man's heart. And to + me it is very cheering to consider that no sceptical logic, or general + triviality, insincerity and aridity of any Time and its influences can + destroy this noble inborn loyalty and worship that is in man. In times of + unbelief, which soon have to become times of revolution, much + down-rushing, sorrowful decay and ruin is visible to everybody. For myself + in these days, I seem to see in this indestructibility of Hero-worship the + everlasting adamant lower than which the confused wreck of revolutionary + things cannot fall. The confused wreck of things crumbling and even + crashing and tumbling all round us in these revolutionary ages, will get + down so far; <i>no</i> farther. It is an eternal corner-stone, from which + they can begin to build themselves up again. That man, in some sense or + other, worships Heroes; that we all of us reverence and must ever + reverence Great Men: this is, to me, the living rock amid all + rushings-down whatsoever;—the one fixed point in modern + revolutionary history, otherwise as if bottomless and shoreless. + </p> + <p> + So much of truth, only under an ancient obsolete vesture, but the spirit + of it still true, do I find in the Paganism of old nations. Nature is + still divine, the revelation of the workings of God; the Hero is still + worshipable: this, under poor cramped incipient forms, is what all Pagan + religions have struggled, as they could, to set forth. I think + Scandinavian Paganism, to us here, is more interesting than any other. It + is, for one thing, the latest; it continued in these regions of Europe + till the eleventh century: eight hundred years ago the Norwegians were + still worshippers of Odin. It is interesting also as the creed of our + fathers; the men whose blood still runs in our veins, whom doubtless we + still resemble in so many ways. Strange: they did believe that, while we + believe so differently. Let us look a little at this poor Norse creed, for + many reasons. We have tolerable means to do it; for there is another point + of interest in these Scandinavian mythologies: that they have been + preserved so well. + </p> + <p> + In that strange island Iceland,—burst up, the geologists say, by + fire from the bottom of the sea; a wild land of barrenness and lava; + swallowed many months of every year in black tempests, yet with a wild + gleaming beauty in summertime; towering up there, stern and grim, in the + North Ocean with its snow jokuls, roaring geysers, sulphur-pools and + horrid volcanic chasms, like the waste chaotic battle-field of Frost and + Fire;—where of all places we least looked for Literature or written + memorials, the record of these things was written down. On the seabord of + this wild land is a rim of grassy country, where cattle can subsist, and + men by means of them and of what the sea yields; and it seems they were + poetic men these, men who had deep thoughts in them, and uttered musically + their thoughts. Much would be lost, had Iceland not been burst up from the + sea, not been discovered by the Northmen! The old Norse Poets were many of + them natives of Iceland. + </p> + <p> + Saemund, one of the early Christian Priests there, who perhaps had a + lingering fondness for Paganism, collected certain of their old Pagan + songs, just about becoming obsolete then,—Poems or Chants of a + mythic, prophetic, mostly all of a religious character: that is what Norse + critics call the <i>Elder</i> or Poetic <i>Edda</i>. <i>Edda</i>, a word + of uncertain etymology, is thought to signify <i>Ancestress</i>. Snorro + Sturleson, an Iceland gentleman, an extremely notable personage, educated + by this Saemund's grandson, took in hand next, near a century afterwards, + to put together, among several other books he wrote, a kind of Prose + Synopsis of the whole Mythology; elucidated by new fragments of + traditionary verse. A work constructed really with great ingenuity, native + talent, what one might call unconscious art; altogether a perspicuous + clear work, pleasant reading still: this is the <i>Younger</i> or Prose <i>Edda</i>. + By these and the numerous other <i>Sagas</i>, mostly Icelandic, with the + commentaries, Icelandic or not, which go on zealously in the North to this + day, it is possible to gain some direct insight even yet; and see that old + Norse system of Belief, as it were, face to face. Let us forget that it is + erroneous Religion; let us look at it as old Thought, and try if we cannot + sympathize with it somewhat. + </p> + <p> + The primary characteristic of this old Northland Mythology I find to be + Impersonation of the visible workings of Nature. Earnest simple + recognition of the workings of Physical Nature, as a thing wholly + miraculous, stupendous and divine. What we now lecture of as Science, they + wondered at, and fell down in awe before, as Religion The dark hostile + Powers of Nature they figure to themselves as "<i>Jotuns</i>," Giants, + huge shaggy beings of a demonic character. Frost, Fire, Sea-tempest; these + are Jotuns. The friendly Powers again, as Summer-heat, the Sun, are Gods. + The empire of this Universe is divided between these two; they dwell + apart, in perennial internecine feud. The Gods dwell above in Asgard, the + Garden of the Asen, or Divinities; Jotunheim, a distant dark chaotic land, + is the home of the Jotuns. + </p> + <p> + Curious all this; and not idle or inane, if we will look at the foundation + of it! The power of <i>Fire</i>, or <i>Flame</i>, for instance, which we + designate by some trivial chemical name, thereby hiding from ourselves the + essential character of wonder that dwells in it as in all things, is with + these old Northmen, Loke, a most swift subtle <i>Demon</i>, of the brood + of the Jotuns. The savages of the Ladrones Islands too (say some Spanish + voyagers) thought Fire, which they never had seen before, was a devil or + god, that bit you sharply when you touched it, and that lived upon dry + wood. From us too no Chemistry, if it had not Stupidity to help it, would + hide that Flame is a wonder. What <i>is</i> Flame?—<i>Frost</i> the + old Norse Seer discerns to be a monstrous hoary Jotun, the Giant <i>Thrym</i>, + <i>Hrym</i>; or <i>Rime</i>, the old word now nearly obsolete here, but + still used in Scotland to signify hoar-frost. <i>Rime</i> was not then as + now a dead chemical thing, but a living Jotun or Devil; the monstrous + Jotun <i>Rime</i> drove home his Horses at night, sat "combing their + manes,"—which Horses were <i>Hail-Clouds</i>, or fleet <i>Frost-Winds</i>. + His Cows—No, not his, but a kinsman's, the Giant Hymir's Cows are <i>Icebergs</i>: + this Hymir "looks at the rocks" with his devil-eye, and they <i>split</i> + in the glance of it. + </p> + <p> + Thunder was not then mere Electricity, vitreous or resinous; it was the + God Donner (Thunder) or Thor,—God also of beneficent Summer-heat. + The thunder was his wrath: the gathering of the black clouds is the + drawing down of Thor's angry brows; the fire-bolt bursting out of Heaven + is the all-rending Hammer flung from the hand of Thor: he urges his loud + chariot over the mountain-tops,—that is the peal; wrathful he "blows + in his red beard,"—that is the rustling storm-blast before the + thunder begins. Balder again, the White God, the beautiful, the just and + benignant (whom the early Christian Missionaries found to resemble + Christ), is the Sun, beautifullest of visible things; wondrous too, and + divine still, after all our Astronomies and Almanacs! But perhaps the + notablest god we hear tell of is one of whom Grimm the German Etymologist + finds trace: the God <i>Wunsch</i>, or Wish. The God <i>Wish</i>; who + could give us all that we <i>wished</i>! Is not this the sincerest and yet + rudest voice of the spirit of man? The <i>rudest</i> ideal that man ever + formed; which still shows itself in the latest forms of our spiritual + culture. Higher considerations have to teach us that the God <i>Wish</i> + is not the true God. + </p> + <p> + Of the other Gods or Jotuns I will mention only for etymology's sake, that + Sea-tempest is the Jotun <i>Aegir</i>, a very dangerous Jotun;—and + now to this day, on our river Trent, as I learn, the Nottingham bargemen, + when the River is in a certain flooded state (a kind of backwater, or + eddying swirl it has, very dangerous to them), call it Eager; they cry + out, "Have a care, there is the <i>Eager</i> coming!" Curious; that word + surviving, like the peak of a submerged world! The <i>oldest</i> + Nottingham bargemen had believed in the God Aegir. Indeed our English + blood too in good part is Danish, Norse; or rather, at bottom, Danish and + Norse and Saxon have no distinction, except a superficial one,—as of + Heathen and Christian, or the like. But all over our Island we are mingled + largely with Danes proper,—from the incessant invasions there were: + and this, of course, in a greater proportion along the east coast; and + greatest of all, as I find, in the North Country. From the Humber upwards, + all over Scotland, the Speech of the common people is still in a singular + degree Icelandic; its Germanism has still a peculiar Norse tinge. They too + are "Normans," Northmen,—if that be any great beauty—! + </p> + <p> + Of the chief god, Odin, we shall speak by and by. Mark at present so much; + what the essence of Scandinavian and indeed of all Paganism is: a + recognition of the forces of Nature as godlike, stupendous, personal + Agencies,—as Gods and Demons. Not inconceivable to us. It is the + infant Thought of man opening itself, with awe and wonder, on this + ever-stupendous Universe. To me there is in the Norse system something + very genuine, very great and manlike. A broad simplicity, rusticity, so + very different from the light gracefulness of the old Greek Paganism, + distinguishes this Scandinavian System. It is Thought; the genuine Thought + of deep, rude, earnest minds, fairly opened to the things about them; a + face-to-face and heart-to-heart inspection of the things,—the first + characteristic of all good Thought in all times. Not graceful lightness, + half-sport, as in the Greek Paganism; a certain homely truthfulness and + rustic strength, a great rude sincerity, discloses itself here. It is + strange, after our beautiful Apollo statues and clear smiling mythuses, to + come down upon the Norse Gods "brewing ale" to hold their feast with + Aegir, the Sea-Jotun; sending out Thor to get the caldron for them in the + Jotun country; Thor, after many adventures, clapping the Pot on his head, + like a huge hat, and walking off with it,—quite lost in it, the ears + of the Pot reaching down to his heels! A kind of vacant hugeness, large + awkward gianthood, characterizes that Norse system; enormous force, as yet + altogether untutored, stalking helpless with large uncertain strides. + Consider only their primary mythus of the Creation. The Gods, having got + the Giant Ymer slain, a Giant made by "warm wind," and much confused work, + out of the conflict of Frost and Fire,—determined on constructing a + world with him. His blood made the Sea; his flesh was the Land, the Rocks + his bones; of his eyebrows they formed Asgard their Gods'-dwelling; his + skull was the great blue vault of Immensity, and the brains of it became + the Clouds. What a Hyper-Brobdignagian business! Untamed Thought, great, + giantlike, enormous;—to be tamed in due time into the compact + greatness, not giantlike, but godlike and stronger than gianthood, of the + Shakspeares, the Goethes!—Spiritually as well as bodily these men + are our progenitors. + </p> + <p> + I like, too, that representation they have of the tree Igdrasil. All Life + is figured by them as a Tree. Igdrasil, the Ash-tree of Existence, has its + roots deep down in the kingdoms of Hela or Death; its trunk reaches up + heaven-high, spreads its boughs over the whole Universe: it is the Tree of + Existence. At the foot of it, in the Death-kingdom, sit Three <i>Nornas</i>, + Fates,—the Past, Present, Future; watering its roots from the Sacred + Well. Its "boughs," with their buddings and disleafings?—events, + things suffered, things done, catastrophes,—stretch through all + lands and times. Is not every leaf of it a biography, every fibre there an + act or word? Its boughs are Histories of Nations. The rustle of it is the + noise of Human Existence, onwards from of old. It grows there, the breath + of Human Passion rustling through it;—or storm tost, the storm-wind + howling through it like the voice of all the gods. It is Igdrasil, the + Tree of Existence. It is the past, the present, and the future; what was + done, what is doing, what will be done; "the infinite conjugation of the + verb <i>To do</i>." Considering how human things circulate, each + inextricably in communion with all,—how the word I speak to you + to-day is borrowed, not from Ulfila the Moesogoth only, but from all men + since the first man began to speak,—I find no similitude so true as + this of a Tree. Beautiful; altogether beautiful and great. The "<i>Machine</i> + of the Universe,"—alas, do but think of that in contrast! + </p> + <p> + Well, it is strange enough this old Norse view of Nature; different enough + from what we believe of Nature. Whence it specially came, one would not + like to be compelled to say very minutely! One thing we may say: It came + from the thoughts of Norse men;—from the thought, above all, of the + <i>first</i> Norse man who had an original power of thinking. The First + Norse "man of genius," as we should call him! Innumerable men had passed + by, across this Universe, with a dumb vague wonder, such as the very + animals may feel; or with a painful, fruitlessly inquiring wonder, such as + men only feel;—till the great Thinker came, the <i>original</i> man, + the Seer; whose shaped spoken Thought awakes the slumbering capability of + all into Thought. It is ever the way with the Thinker, the spiritual Hero. + What he says, all men were not far from saying, were longing to say. The + Thoughts of all start up, as from painful enchanted sleep, round his + Thought; answering to it, Yes, even so! Joyful to men as the dawning of + day from night;—<i>is</i> it not, indeed, the awakening for them + from no-being into being, from death into life? We still honor such a man; + call him Poet, Genius, and so forth: but to these wild men he was a very + magician, a worker of miraculous unexpected blessing for them; a Prophet, + a God!—Thought once awakened does not again slumber; unfolds itself + into a System of Thought; grows, in man after man, generation after + generation,—till its full stature is reached, and <i>such</i> System + of Thought can grow no farther; but must give place to another. + </p> + <p> + For the Norse people, the Man now named Odin, and Chief Norse God, we + fancy, was such a man. A Teacher, and Captain of soul and of body; a Hero, + of worth immeasurable; admiration for whom, transcending the known bounds, + became adoration. Has he not the power of articulate Thinking; and many + other powers, as yet miraculous? So, with boundless gratitude, would the + rude Norse heart feel. Has he not solved for them the sphinx-enigma of + this Universe; given assurance to them of their own destiny there? By him + they know now what they have to do here, what to look for hereafter. + Existence has become articulate, melodious by him; he first has made Life + alive!—We may call this Odin, the origin of Norse Mythology: Odin, + or whatever name the First Norse Thinker bore while he was a man among + men. His view of the Universe once promulgated, a like view starts into + being in all minds; grows, keeps ever growing, while it continues credible + there. In all minds it lay written, but invisibly, as in sympathetic ink; + at his word it starts into visibility in all. Nay, in every epoch of the + world, the great event, parent of all others, is it not the arrival of a + Thinker in the world—! + </p> + <p> + One other thing we must not forget; it will explain, a little, the + confusion of these Norse Eddas. They are not one coherent System of + Thought; but properly the <i>summation</i> of several successive systems. + All this of the old Norse Belief which is flung out for us, in one level + of distance in the Edda, like a picture painted on the same canvas, does + not at all stand so in the reality. It stands rather at all manner of + distances and depths, of successive generations since the Belief first + began. All Scandinavian thinkers, since the first of them, contributed to + that Scandinavian System of Thought; in ever-new elaboration and addition, + it is the combined work of them all. What history it had, how it changed + from shape to shape, by one thinker's contribution after another, till it + got to the full final shape we see it under in the Edda, no man will now + ever know: <i>its</i> Councils of Trebizond, Councils of Trent, + Athanasiuses, Dantes, Luthers, are sunk without echo in the dark night! + Only that it had such a history we can all know. Wheresover a thinker + appeared, there in the thing he thought of was a contribution, accession, + a change or revolution made. Alas, the grandest "revolution" of all, the + one made by the man Odin himself, is not this too sunk for us like the + rest! Of Odin what history? Strange rather to reflect that he <i>had</i> a + history! That this Odin, in his wild Norse vesture, with his wild beard + and eyes, his rude Norse speech and ways, was a man like us; with our + sorrows, joys, with our limbs, features;—intrinsically all one as + we: and did such a work! But the work, much of it, has perished; the + worker, all to the name. "<i>Wednesday</i>," men will say to-morrow; + Odin's day! Of Odin there exists no history; no document of it; no guess + about it worth repeating. + </p> + <p> + Snorro indeed, in the quietest manner, almost in a brief business style, + writes down, in his <i>Heimskringla</i>, how Odin was a heroic Prince, in + the Black-Sea region, with Twelve Peers, and a great people straitened for + room. How he led these <i>Asen</i> (Asiatics) of his out of Asia; settled + them in the North parts of Europe, by warlike conquest; invented Letters, + Poetry and so forth,—and came by and by to be worshipped as Chief + God by these Scandinavians, his Twelve Peers made into Twelve Sons of his + own, Gods like himself: Snorro has no doubt of this. Saxo Grammaticus, a + very curious Northman of that same century, is still more unhesitating; + scruples not to find out a historical fact in every individual mythus, and + writes it down as a terrestrial event in Denmark or elsewhere. Torfaeus, + learned and cautious, some centuries later, assigns by calculation a <i>date</i> + for it: Odin, he says, came into Europe about the Year 70 before Christ. + Of all which, as grounded on mere uncertainties, found to be untenable + now, I need say nothing. Far, very far beyond the Year 70! Odin's date, + adventures, whole terrestrial history, figure and environment are sunk + from us forever into unknown thousands of years. + </p> + <p> + Nay Grimm, the German Antiquary, goes so far as to deny that any man Odin + ever existed. He proves it by etymology. The word <i>Wuotan</i>, which is + the original form of <i>Odin</i>, a word spread, as name of their chief + Divinity, over all the Teutonic Nations everywhere; this word, which + connects itself, according to Grimm, with the Latin <i>vadere</i>, with + the English <i>wade</i> and such like,—means primarily Movement, + Source of Movement, Power; and is the fit name of the highest god, not of + any man. The word signifies Divinity, he says, among the old Saxon, German + and all Teutonic Nations; the adjectives formed from it all signify + divine, supreme, or something pertaining to the chief god. Like enough! We + must bow to Grimm in matters etymological. Let us consider it fixed that + <i>Wuotan</i> means <i>Wading</i>, force of <i>Movement</i>. And now + still, what hinders it from being the name of a Heroic Man and <i>Mover</i>, + as well as of a god? As for the adjectives, and words formed from it,—did + not the Spaniards in their universal admiration for Lope, get into the + habit of saying "a Lope flower," "a Lope <i>dama</i>," if the flower or + woman were of surpassing beauty? Had this lasted, <i>Lope</i> would have + grown, in Spain, to be an adjective signifying <i>godlike</i> also. + Indeed, Adam Smith, in his Essay on Language, surmises that all adjectives + whatsoever were formed precisely in that way: some very green thing, + chiefly notable for its greenness, got the appellative name <i>Green</i>, + and then the next thing remarkable for that quality, a tree for instance, + was named the <i>green</i> tree,—as we still say "the <i>steam</i> + coach," "four-horse coach," or the like. All primary adjectives, according + to Smith, were formed in this way; were at first substantives and things. + We cannot annihilate a man for etymologies like that! Surely there was a + First Teacher and Captain; surely there must have been an Odin, palpable + to the sense at one time; no adjective, but a real Hero of flesh and + blood! The voice of all tradition, history or echo of history, agrees with + all that thought will teach one about it, to assure us of this. + </p> + <p> + How the man Odin came to be considered a <i>god</i>, the chief god?—that + surely is a question which nobody would wish to dogmatize upon. I have + said, his people knew no <i>limits</i> to their admiration of him; they + had as yet no scale to measure admiration by. Fancy your own generous + heart's-love of some greatest man expanding till it <i>transcended</i> all + bounds, till it filled and overflowed the whole field of your thought! Or + what if this man Odin,—since a great deep soul, with the afflatus + and mysterious tide of vision and impulse rushing on him he knows not + whence, is ever an enigma, a kind of terror and wonder to himself,—should + have felt that perhaps <i>he</i> was divine; that <i>he</i> was some + effluence of the "Wuotan," "<i>Movement</i>", Supreme Power and Divinity, + of whom to his rapt vision all Nature was the awful Flame-image; that some + effluence of Wuotan dwelt here in him! He was not necessarily false; he + was but mistaken, speaking the truest he knew. A great soul, any sincere + soul, knows not what he is,—alternates between the highest height + and the lowest depth; can, of all things, the least measure—Himself! + What others take him for, and what he guesses that he may be; these two + items strangely act on one another, help to determine one another. With + all men reverently admiring him; with his own wild soul full of noble + ardors and affections, of whirlwind chaotic darkness and glorious new + light; a divine Universe bursting all into godlike beauty round him, and + no man to whom the like ever had befallen, what could he think himself to + be? "Wuotan?" All men answered, "Wuotan!"— + </p> + <p> + And then consider what mere Time will do in such cases; how if a man was + great while living, he becomes tenfold greater when dead. What an enormous + <i>camera-obscura</i> magnifier is Tradition! How a thing grows in the + human Memory, in the human Imagination, when love, worship and all that + lies in the human Heart, is there to encourage it. And in the darkness, in + the entire ignorance; without date or document, no book, no + Arundel-marble; only here and there some dumb monumental cairn. Why, in + thirty or forty years, were there no books, any great man would grow <i>mythic</i>, + the contemporaries who had seen him, being once all dead. And in three + hundred years, and in three thousand years—! To attempt <i>theorizing</i> + on such matters would profit little: they are matters which refuse to be + <i>theoremed</i> and diagramed; which Logic ought to know that she <i>cannot</i> + speak of. Enough for us to discern, far in the uttermost distance, some + gleam as of a small real light shining in the centre of that enormous + camera-obscure image; to discern that the centre of it all was not a + madness and nothing, but a sanity and something. + </p> + <p> + This light, kindled in the great dark vortex of the Norse Mind, dark but + living, waiting only for light; this is to me the centre of the whole. How + such light will then shine out, and with wondrous thousand-fold expansion + spread itself, in forms and colors, depends not on <i>it</i>, so much as + on the National Mind recipient of it. The colors and forms of your light + will be those of the <i>cut-glass</i> it has to shine through.—Curious + to think how, for every man, any the truest fact is modelled by the nature + of the man! I said, The earnest man, speaking to his brother men, must + always have stated what seemed to him a <i>fact</i>, a real Appearance of + Nature. But the way in which such Appearance or fact shaped itself,—what + sort of <i>fact</i> it became for him,—was and is modified by his + own laws of thinking; deep, subtle, but universal, ever-operating laws. + The world of Nature, for every man, is the Fantasy of Himself. This world + is the multiplex "Image of his own Dream." Who knows to what unnamable + subtleties of spiritual law all these Pagan Fables owe their shape! The + number Twelve, divisiblest of all, which could be halved, quartered, + parted into three, into six, the most remarkable number,—this was + enough to determine the <i>Signs of the Zodiac</i>, the number of Odin's + <i>Sons</i>, and innumerable other Twelves. Any vague rumor of number had + a tendency to settle itself into Twelve. So with regard to every other + matter. And quite unconsciously too,—with no notion of building up + "Allegories "! But the fresh clear glance of those First Ages would be + prompt in discerning the secret relations of things, and wholly open to + obey these. Schiller finds in the <i>Cestus of Venus</i> an everlasting + aesthetic truth as to the nature of all Beauty; curious:—but he is + careful not to insinuate that the old Greek Mythists had any notion of + lecturing about the "Philosophy of Criticism"!—On the whole, we must + leave those boundless regions. Cannot we conceive that Odin was a reality? + Error indeed, error enough: but sheer falsehood, idle fables, allegory + aforethought,—we will not believe that our Fathers believed in + these. + </p> + <p> + Odin's <i>Runes</i> are a significant feature of him. Runes, and the + miracles of "magic" he worked by them, make a great feature in tradition. + Runes are the Scandinavian Alphabet; suppose Odin to have been the + inventor of Letters, as well as "magic," among that people! It is the + greatest invention man has ever made! this of marking down the unseen + thought that is in him by written characters. It is a kind of second + speech, almost as miraculous as the first. You remember the astonishment + and incredulity of Atahualpa the Peruvian King; how he made the Spanish + Soldier who was guarding him scratch <i>Dios</i> on his thumb-nail, that + he might try the next soldier with it, to ascertain whether such a miracle + was possible. If Odin brought Letters among his people, he might work + magic enough! + </p> + <p> + Writing by Runes has some air of being original among the Norsemen: not a + Phoenician Alphabet, but a native Scandinavian one. Snorro tells us + farther that Odin invented Poetry; the music of human speech, as well as + that miraculous runic marking of it. Transport yourselves into the early + childhood of nations; the first beautiful morning-light of our Europe, + when all yet lay in fresh young radiance as of a great sunrise, and our + Europe was first beginning to think, to be! Wonder, hope; infinite + radiance of hope and wonder, as of a young child's thoughts, in the hearts + of these strong men! Strong sons of Nature; and here was not only a wild + Captain and Fighter; discerning with his wild flashing eyes what to do, + with his wild lion-heart daring and doing it; but a Poet too, all that we + mean by a Poet, Prophet, great devout Thinker and Inventor,—as the + truly Great Man ever is. A Hero is a Hero at all points; in the soul and + thought of him first of all. This Odin, in his rude semi-articulate way, + had a word to speak. A great heart laid open to take in this great + Universe, and man's Life here, and utter a great word about it. A Hero, as + I say, in his own rude manner; a wise, gifted, noble-hearted man. And now, + if we still admire such a man beyond all others, what must these wild + Norse souls, first awakened into thinking, have made of him! To them, as + yet without names for it, he was noble and noblest; Hero, Prophet, God; <i>Wuotan</i>, + the greatest of all. Thought is Thought, however it speak or spell itself. + Intrinsically, I conjecture, this Odin must have been of the same sort of + stuff as the greatest kind of men. A great thought in the wild deep heart + of him! The rough words he articulated, are they not the rudimental roots + of those English words we still use? He worked so, in that obscure + element. But he was as a <i>light</i> kindled in it; a light of Intellect, + rude Nobleness of heart, the only kind of lights we have yet; a Hero, as I + say: and he had to shine there, and make his obscure element a little + lighter,—as is still the task of us all. + </p> + <p> + We will fancy him to be the Type Norseman; the finest Teuton whom that + race had yet produced. The rude Norse heart burst up into <i>boundless</i> + admiration round him; into adoration. He is as a root of so many great + things; the fruit of him is found growing from deep thousands of years, + over the whole field of Teutonic Life. Our own Wednesday, as I said, is it + not still Odin's Day? Wednesbury, Wansborough, Wanstead, Wandsworth: Odin + grew into England too, these are still leaves from that root! He was the + Chief God to all the Teutonic Peoples; their Pattern Norseman;—in + such way did <i>they</i> admire their Pattern Norseman; that was the + fortune he had in the world. + </p> + <p> + Thus if the man Odin himself have vanished utterly, there is this huge + Shadow of him which still projects itself over the whole History of his + People. For this Odin once admitted to be God, we can understand well that + the whole Scandinavian Scheme of Nature, or dim No-scheme, whatever it + might before have been, would now begin to develop itself altogether + differently, and grow thenceforth in a new manner. What this Odin saw + into, and taught with his runes and his rhymes, the whole Teutonic People + laid to heart and carried forward. His way of thought became their way of + thought:—such, under new conditions, is the history of every great + thinker still. In gigantic confused lineaments, like some enormous + camera-obscure shadow thrown upwards from the dead deeps of the Past, and + covering the whole Northern Heaven, is not that Scandinavian Mythology in + some sort the Portraiture of this man Odin? The gigantic image of <i>his</i> + natural face, legible or not legible there, expanded and confused in that + manner! Ah, Thought, I say, is always Thought. No great man lives in vain. + The History of the world is but the Biography of great men. + </p> + <p> + To me there is something very touching in this primeval figure of Heroism; + in such artless, helpless, but hearty entire reception of a Hero by his + fellow-men. Never so helpless in shape, it is the noblest of feelings, and + a feeling in some shape or other perennial as man himself. If I could show + in any measure, what I feel deeply for a long time now, That it is the + vital element of manhood, the soul of man's history here in our world,—it + would be the chief use of this discoursing at present. We do not now call + our great men Gods, nor admire <i>without</i> limit; ah no, <i>with</i> + limit enough! But if we have no great men, or do not admire at all,—that + were a still worse case. + </p> + <p> + This poor Scandinavian Hero-worship, that whole Norse way of looking at + the Universe, and adjusting oneself there, has an indestructible merit for + us. A rude childlike way of recognizing the divineness of Nature, the + divineness of Man; most rude, yet heartfelt, robust, giantlike; betokening + what a giant of a man this child would yet grow to!—It was a truth, + and is none. Is it not as the half-dumb stifled voice of the long-buried + generations of our own Fathers, calling out of the depths of ages to us, + in whose veins their blood still runs: "This then, this is what we made of + the world: this is all the image and notion we could form to ourselves of + this great mystery of a Life and Universe. Despise it not. You are raised + high above it, to large free scope of vision; but you too are not yet at + the top. No, your notion too, so much enlarged, is but a partial, + imperfect one; that matter is a thing no man will ever, in time or out of + time, comprehend; after thousands of years of ever-new expansion, man will + find himself but struggling to comprehend again a part of it: the thing is + larger shall man, not to be comprehended by him; an Infinite thing!" + </p> + <p> + The essence of the Scandinavian, as indeed of all Pagan Mythologies, we + found to be recognition of the divineness of Nature; sincere communion of + man with the mysterious invisible Powers visibly seen at work in the world + round him. This, I should say, is more sincerely done in the Scandinavian + than in any Mythology I know. Sincerity is the great characteristic of it. + Superior sincerity (far superior) consoles us for the total want of old + Grecian grace. Sincerity, I think, is better than grace. I feel that these + old Northmen wore looking into Nature with open eye and soul: most + earnest, honest; childlike, and yet manlike; with a great-hearted + simplicity and depth and freshness, in a true, loving, admiring, unfearing + way. A right valiant, true old race of men. Such recognition of Nature one + finds to be the chief element of Paganism; recognition of Man, and his + Moral Duty, though this too is not wanting, comes to be the chief element + only in purer forms of religion. Here, indeed, is a great distinction and + epoch in Human Beliefs; a great landmark in the religious development of + Mankind. Man first puts himself in relation with Nature and her Powers, + wonders and worships over those; not till a later epoch does he discern + that all Power is Moral, that the grand point is the distinction for him + of Good and Evil, of <i>Thou shalt</i> and <i>Thou shalt not</i>. + </p> + <p> + With regard to all these fabulous delineations in the <i>Edda</i>, I will + remark, moreover, as indeed was already hinted, that most probably they + must have been of much newer date; most probably, even from the first, + were comparatively idle for the old Norsemen, and as it were a kind of + Poetic sport. Allegory and Poetic Delineation, as I said above, cannot be + religious Faith; the Faith itself must first be there, then Allegory + enough will gather round it, as the fit body round its soul. The Norse + Faith, I can well suppose, like other Faiths, was most active while it lay + mainly in the silent state, and had not yet much to say about itself, + still less to sing. + </p> + <p> + Among those shadowy <i>Edda</i> matters, amid all that fantastic congeries + of assertions, and traditions, in their musical Mythologies, the main + practical belief a man could have was probably not much more than this: of + the <i>Valkyrs</i> and the <i>Hall of Odin</i>; of an inflexible <i>Destiny</i>; + and that the one thing needful for a man was <i>to be brave</i>. The <i>Valkyrs</i> + are Choosers of the Slain: a Destiny inexorable, which it is useless + trying to bend or soften, has appointed who is to be slain; this was a + fundamental point for the Norse believer;—as indeed it is for all + earnest men everywhere, for a Mahomet, a Luther, for a Napoleon too. It + lies at the basis this for every such man; it is the woof out of which his + whole system of thought is woven. The <i>Valkyrs</i>; and then that these + <i>Choosers</i> lead the brave to a heavenly <i>Hall of Odin</i>; only the + base and slavish being thrust elsewhither, into the realms of Hela the + Death-goddess: I take this to have been the soul of the whole Norse + Belief. They understood in their heart that it was indispensable to be + brave; that Odin would have no favor for them, but despise and thrust them + out, if they were not brave. Consider too whether there is not something + in this! It is an everlasting duty, valid in our day as in that, the duty + of being brave. <i>Valor</i> is still <i>value</i>. The first duty for a + man is still that of subduing <i>Fear</i>. We must get rid of Fear; we + cannot act at all till then. A man's acts are slavish, not true but + specious; his very thoughts are false, he thinks too as a slave and + coward, till he have got Fear under his feet. Odin's creed, if we + disentangle the real kernel of it, is true to this hour. A man shall and + must be valiant; he must march forward, and quit himself like a man,—trusting + imperturbably in the appointment and <i>choice</i> of the upper Powers; + and, on the whole, not fear at all. Now and always, the completeness of + his victory over Fear will determine how much of a man he is. + </p> + <p> + It is doubtless very savage that kind of valor of the old Northmen. Snorro + tells us they thought it a shame and misery not to die in battle; and if + natural death seemed to be coming on, they would cut wounds in their + flesh, that Odin might receive them as warriors slain. Old kings, about to + die, had their body laid into a ship; the ship sent forth, with sails set + and slow fire burning it; that, once out at sea, it might blaze up in + flame, and in such manner bury worthily the old hero, at once in the sky + and in the ocean! Wild bloody valor; yet valor of its kind; better, I say, + than none. In the old Sea-kings too, what an indomitable rugged energy! + Silent, with closed lips, as I fancy them, unconscious that they were + specially brave; defying the wild ocean with its monsters, and all men and + things;—progenitors of our own Blakes and Nelsons! No Homer sang + these Norse Sea-kings; but Agamemnon's was a small audacity, and of small + fruit in the world, to some of them;—to Hrolf's of Normandy, for + instance! Hrolf, or Rollo Duke of Normandy, the wild Sea-king, has a share + in governing England at this hour. + </p> + <p> + Nor was it altogether nothing, even that wild sea-roving and battling, + through so many generations. It needed to be ascertained which was the <i>strongest</i> + kind of men; who were to be ruler over whom. Among the Northland + Sovereigns, too, I find some who got the title <i>Wood-cutter</i>; + Forest-felling Kings. Much lies in that. I suppose at bottom many of them + were forest-fellers as well as fighters, though the Skalds talk mainly of + the latter,—misleading certain critics not a little; for no nation + of men could ever live by fighting alone; there could not produce enough + come out of that! I suppose the right good fighter was oftenest also the + right good forest-feller,—the right good improver, discerner, doer + and worker in every kind; for true valor, different enough from ferocity, + is the basis of all. A more legitimate kind of valor that; showing itself + against the untamed Forests and dark brute Powers of Nature, to conquer + Nature for us. In the same direction have not we their descendants since + carried it far? May such valor last forever with us! + </p> + <p> + That the man Odin, speaking with a Hero's voice and heart, as with an + impressiveness out of Heaven, told his People the infinite importance of + Valor, how man thereby became a god; and that his People, feeling a + response to it in their own hearts, believed this message of his, and + thought it a message out of Heaven, and him a Divinity for telling it + them: this seems to me the primary seed-grain of the Norse Religion, from + which all manner of mythologies, symbolic practices, speculations, + allegories, songs and sagas would naturally grow. Grow,—how + strangely! I called it a small light shining and shaping in the huge + vortex of Norse darkness. Yet the darkness itself was <i>alive</i>; + consider that. It was the eager inarticulate uninstructed Mind of the + whole Norse People, longing only to become articulate, to go on + articulating ever farther! The living doctrine grows, grows;—like a + Banyan-tree; the first <i>seed</i> is the essential thing: any branch + strikes itself down into the earth, becomes a new root; and so, in endless + complexity, we have a whole wood, a whole jungle, one seed the parent of + it all. Was not the whole Norse Religion, accordingly, in some sense, what + we called "the enormous shadow of this man's likeness"? Critics trace some + affinity in some Norse mythuses, of the Creation and such like, with those + of the Hindoos. The Cow Adumbla, "licking the rime from the rocks," has a + kind of Hindoo look. A Hindoo Cow, transported into frosty countries. + Probably enough; indeed we may say undoubtedly, these things will have a + kindred with the remotest lands, with the earliest times. Thought does not + die, but only is changed. The first man that began to think in this Planet + of ours, he was the beginner of all. And then the second man, and the + third man;—nay, every true Thinker to this hour is a kind of Odin, + teaches men <i>his</i> way of thought, spreads a shadow of his own + likeness over sections of the History of the World. + </p> + <p> + Of the distinctive poetic character or merit of this Norse Mythology I + have not room to speak; nor does it concern us much. Some wild Prophecies + we have, as the <i>Voluspa</i> in the <i>Elder Edda</i>; of a rapt, + earnest, sibylline sort. But they were comparatively an idle adjunct of + the matter, men who as it were but toyed with the matter, these later + Skalds; and it is <i>their</i> songs chiefly that survive. In later + centuries, I suppose, they would go on singing, poetically symbolizing, as + our modern Painters paint, when it was no longer from the innermost heart, + or not from the heart at all. This is everywhere to be well kept in mind. + </p> + <p> + Gray's fragments of Norse Lore, at any rate, will give one no notion of + it;—any more than Pope will of Homer. It is no square-built gloomy + palace of black ashlar marble, shrouded in awe and horror, as Gray gives + it us: no; rough as the North rocks, as the Iceland deserts, it is; with a + heartiness, homeliness, even a tint of good humor and robust mirth in the + middle of these fearful things. The strong old Norse heart did not go upon + theatrical sublimities; they had not time to tremble. I like much their + robust simplicity; their veracity, directness of conception. Thor "draws + down his brows" in a veritable Norse rage; "grasps his hammer till the <i>knuckles + grow white</i>." Beautiful traits of pity too, an honest pity. Balder "the + white God" dies; the beautiful, benignant; he is the Sungod. They try all + Nature for a remedy; but he is dead. Frigga, his mother, sends Hermoder to + seek or see him: nine days and nine nights he rides through gloomy deep + valleys, a labyrinth of gloom; arrives at the Bridge with its gold roof: + the Keeper says, "Yes, Balder did pass here; but the Kingdom of the Dead + is down yonder, far towards the North." Hermoder rides on; leaps + Hell-gate, Hela's gate; does see Balder, and speak with him: Balder cannot + be delivered. Inexorable! Hela will not, for Odin or any God, give him up. + The beautiful and gentle has to remain there. His Wife had volunteered to + go with him, to die with him. They shall forever remain there. He sends + his ring to Odin; Nanna his wife sends her <i>thimble</i> to Frigga, as a + remembrance.—Ah me—! + </p> + <p> + For indeed Valor is the fountain of Pity too;—of Truth, and all that + is great and good in man. The robust homely vigor of the Norse heart + attaches one much, in these delineations. Is it not a trait of right + honest strength, says Uhland, who has written a fine <i>Essay</i> on Thor, + that the old Norse heart finds its friend in the Thunder-god? That it is + not frightened away by his thunder; but finds that Summer-heat, the + beautiful noble summer, must and will have thunder withal! The Norse heart + <i>loves</i> this Thor and his hammer-bolt; sports with him. Thor is + Summer-heat: the god of Peaceable Industry as well as Thunder. He is the + Peasant's friend; his true henchman and attendant is Thialfi, <i>Manual + Labor</i>. Thor himself engages in all manner of rough manual work, scorns + no business for its plebeianism; is ever and anon travelling to the + country of the Jotuns, harrying those chaotic Frost-monsters, subduing + them, at least straitening and damaging them. There is a great broad humor + in some of these things. + </p> + <p> + Thor, as we saw above, goes to Jotun-land, to seek Hymir's Caldron, that + the Gods may brew beer. Hymir the huge Giant enters, his gray beard all + full of hoar-frost; splits pillars with the very glance of his eye; Thor, + after much rough tumult, snatches the Pot, claps it on his head; the + "handles of it reach down to his heels." The Norse Skald has a kind of + loving sport with Thor. This is the Hymir whose cattle, the critics have + discovered, are Icebergs. Huge untutored Brobdignag genius,—needing + only to be tamed down; into Shakspeares, Dantes, Goethes! It is all gone + now, that old Norse work,—Thor the Thunder-god changed into Jack the + Giant-killer: but the mind that made it is here yet. How strangely things + grow, and die, and do not die! There are twigs of that great world-tree of + Norse Belief still curiously traceable. This poor Jack of the Nursery, + with his miraculous shoes of swiftness, coat of darkness, sword of + sharpness, he is one. <i>Hynde Etin</i>, and still more decisively <i>Red + Etin of Ireland</i>, <i>in</i> the Scottish Ballads, these are both + derived from Norseland; <i>Etin</i> is evidently a <i>Jotun</i>. Nay, + Shakspeare's <i>Hamlet</i> is a twig too of this same world-tree; there + seems no doubt of that. Hamlet, <i>Amleth</i> I find, is really a mythic + personage; and his Tragedy, of the poisoned Father, poisoned asleep by + drops in his ear, and the rest, is a Norse mythus! Old Saxo, as his wont + was, made it a Danish history; Shakspeare, out of Saxo, made it what we + see. That is a twig of the world-tree that has <i>grown</i>, I think;—by + nature or accident that one has grown! + </p> + <p> + In fact, these old Norse songs have a <i>truth</i> in them, an inward + perennial truth and greatness,—as, indeed, all must have that can + very long preserve itself by tradition alone. It is a greatness not of + mere body and gigantic bulk, but a rude greatness of soul. There is a + sublime uncomplaining melancholy traceable in these old hearts. A great + free glance into the very deeps of thought. They seem to have seen, these + brave old Northmen, what Meditation has taught all men in all ages, That + this world is after all but a show,—a phenomenon or appearance, no + real thing. All deep souls see into that,—the Hindoo Mythologist, + the German Philosopher,—the Shakspeare, the earnest Thinker, + wherever he may be: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "We are such stuff as Dreams are made of!" +</pre> + <p> + One of Thor's expeditions, to Utgard (the <i>Outer</i> Garden, central + seat of Jotun-land), is remarkable in this respect. Thialfi was with him, + and Loke. After various adventures, they entered upon Giant-land; wandered + over plains, wild uncultivated places, among stones and trees. At + nightfall they noticed a house; and as the door, which indeed formed one + whole side of the house, was open, they entered. It was a simple + habitation; one large hall, altogether empty. They stayed there. Suddenly + in the dead of the night loud noises alarmed them. Thor grasped his + hammer; stood in the door, prepared for fight. His companions within ran + hither and thither in their terror, seeking some outlet in that rude hall; + they found a little closet at last, and took refuge there. Neither had + Thor any battle: for, lo, in the morning it turned out that the noise had + been only the <i>snoring</i> of a certain enormous but peaceable Giant, + the Giant Skrymir, who lay peaceably sleeping near by; and this that they + took for a house was merely his <i>Glove</i>, thrown aside there; the door + was the Glove-wrist; the little closet they had fled into was the Thumb! + Such a glove;—I remark too that it had not fingers as ours have, but + only a thumb, and the rest undivided: a most ancient, rustic glove! + </p> + <p> + Skrymir now carried their portmanteau all day; Thor, however, had his own + suspicions, did not like the ways of Skrymir; determined at night to put + an end to him as he slept. Raising his hammer, he struck down into the + Giant's face a right thunder-bolt blow, of force to rend rocks. The Giant + merely awoke; rubbed his cheek, and said, Did a leaf fall? Again Thor + struck, so soon as Skrymir again slept; a better blow than before; but the + Giant only murmured, Was that a grain of sand? Thor's third stroke was + with both his hands (the "knuckles white" I suppose), and seemed to dint + deep into Skrymir's visage; but he merely checked his snore, and remarked, + There must be sparrows roosting in this tree, I think; what is that they + have dropt?—At the gate of Utgard, a place so high that you had to + "strain your neck bending back to see the top of it," Skrymir went his + ways. Thor and his companions were admitted; invited to take share in the + games going on. To Thor, for his part, they handed a Drinking-horn; it was + a common feat, they told him, to drink this dry at one draught. Long and + fiercely, three times over, Thor drank; but made hardly any impression. He + was a weak child, they told him: could he lift that Cat he saw there? + Small as the feat seemed, Thor with his whole godlike strength could not; + he bent up the creature's back, could not raise its feet off the ground, + could at the utmost raise one foot. Why, you are no man, said the Utgard + people; there is an Old Woman that will wrestle you! Thor, heartily + ashamed, seized this haggard Old Woman; but could not throw her. + </p> + <p> + And now, on their quitting Utgard, the chief Jotun, escorting them + politely a little way, said to Thor: "You are beaten then:—yet be + not so much ashamed; there was deception of appearance in it. That Horn + you tried to drink was the <i>Sea</i>; you did make it ebb; but who could + drink that, the bottomless! The Cat you would have lifted,—why, that + is the <i>Midgard-snake</i>, the Great World-serpent, which, tail in + mouth, girds and keeps up the whole created world; had you torn that up, + the world must have rushed to ruin! As for the Old Woman, she was <i>Time</i>, + Old Age, Duration: with her what can wrestle? No man nor no god with her; + gods or men, she prevails over all! And then those three strokes you + struck,—look at these <i>three valleys</i>; your three strokes made + these!" Thor looked at his attendant Jotun: it was Skrymir;—it was, + say Norse critics, the old chaotic rocky <i>Earth</i> in person, and that + glove-<i>house</i> was some Earth-cavern! But Skrymir had vanished; Utgard + with its sky-high gates, when Thor grasped his hammer to smite them, had + gone to air; only the Giant's voice was heard mocking: "Better come no + more to Jotunheim!"— + </p> + <p> + This is of the allegoric period, as we see, and half play, not of the + prophetic and entirely devout: but as a mythus is there not real antique + Norse gold in it? More true metal, rough from the Mimer-stithy, than in + many a famed Greek Mythus <i>shaped</i> far better! A great broad + Brobdignag grin of true humor is in this Skrymir; mirth resting on + earnestness and sadness, as the rainbow on black tempest: only a right + valiant heart is capable of that. It is the grim humor of our own Ben + Jonson, rare old Ben; runs in the blood of us, I fancy; for one catches + tones of it, under a still other shape, out of the American Backwoods. + </p> + <p> + That is also a very striking conception that of the <i>Ragnarok</i>, + Consummation, or <i>Twilight of the Gods</i>. It is in the <i>Voluspa</i> + Song; seemingly a very old, prophetic idea. The Gods and Jotuns, the + divine Powers and the chaotic brute ones, after long contest and partial + victory by the former, meet at last in universal world-embracing wrestle + and duel; World-serpent against Thor, strength against strength; mutually + extinctive; and ruin, "twilight" sinking into darkness, swallows the + created Universe. The old Universe with its Gods is sunk; but it is not + final death: there is to be a new Heaven and a new Earth; a higher supreme + God, and Justice to reign among men. Curious: this law of mutation, which + also is a law written in man's inmost thought, had been deciphered by + these old earnest Thinkers in their rude style; and how, though all dies, + and even gods die, yet all death is but a phoenix fire-death, and + new-birth into the Greater and the Better! It is the fundamental Law of + Being for a creature made of Time, living in this Place of Hope. All + earnest men have seen into it; may still see into it. + </p> + <p> + And now, connected with this, let us glance at the <i>last</i> mythus of + the appearance of Thor; and end there. I fancy it to be the latest in date + of all these fables; a sorrowing protest against the advance of + Christianity,—set forth reproachfully by some Conservative Pagan. + King Olaf has been harshly blamed for his over-zeal in introducing + Christianity; surely I should have blamed him far more for an under-zeal + in that! He paid dear enough for it; he died by the revolt of his Pagan + people, in battle, in the year 1033, at Stickelstad, near that Drontheim, + where the chief Cathedral of the North has now stood for many centuries, + dedicated gratefully to his memory as <i>Saint</i> Olaf. The mythus about + Thor is to this effect. King Olaf, the Christian Reform King, is sailing + with fit escort along the shore of Norway, from haven to haven; dispensing + justice, or doing other royal work: on leaving a certain haven, it is + found that a stranger, of grave eyes and aspect, red beard, of stately + robust figure, has stept in. The courtiers address him; his answers + surprise by their pertinency and depth: at length he is brought to the + King. The stranger's conversation here is not less remarkable, as they + sail along the beautiful shore; but after some time, he addresses King + Olaf thus: "Yes, King Olaf, it is all beautiful, with the sun shining on + it there; green, fruitful, a right fair home for you; and many a sore day + had Thor, many a wild fight with the rock Jotuns, before he could make it + so. And now you seem minded to put away Thor. King Olaf, have a care!" + said the stranger, drawing down his brows;—and when they looked + again, he was nowhere to be found.—This is the last appearance of + Thor on the stage of this world! + </p> + <p> + Do we not see well enough how the Fable might arise, without unveracity on + the part of any one? It is the way most Gods have come to appear among + men: thus, if in Pindar's time "Neptune was seen once at the Nemean + Games," what was this Neptune too but a "stranger of noble grave aspect,"—fit + to be "seen"! There is something pathetic, tragic for me in this last + voice of Paganism. Thor is vanished, the whole Norse world has vanished; + and will not return ever again. In like fashion to that, pass away the + highest things. All things that have been in this world, all things that + are or will be in it, have to vanish: we have our sad farewell to give + them. + </p> + <p> + That Norse Religion, a rude but earnest, sternly impressive <i>Consecration + of Valor</i> (so we may define it), sufficed for these old valiant + Northmen. Consecration of Valor is not a bad thing! We will take it for + good, so far as it goes. Neither is there no use in <i>knowing</i> + something about this old Paganism of our Fathers. Unconsciously, and + combined with higher things, it is in us yet, that old Faith withal! To + know it consciously, brings us into closer and clearer relation with the + Past,—with our own possessions in the Past. For the whole Past, as I + keep repeating, is the possession of the Present; the Past had always + something <i>true</i>, and is a precious possession. In a different time, + in a different place, it is always some other <i>side</i> of our common + Human Nature that has been developing itself. The actual True is the sum + of all these; not any one of them by itself constitutes what of Human + Nature is hitherto developed. Better to know them all than misknow them. + "To which of these Three Religions do you specially adhere?" inquires + Meister of his Teacher. "To all the Three!" answers the other: "To all the + Three; for they by their union first constitute the True Religion." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LECTURE II. THE HERO AS PROPHET. MAHOMET: ISLAM. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 8, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + From the first rude times of Paganism among the Scandinavians in the + North, we advance to a very different epoch of religion, among a very + different people: Mahometanism among the Arabs. A great change; what a + change and progress is indicated here, in the universal condition and + thoughts of men! + </p> + <p> + The Hero is not now regarded as a God among his fellowmen; but as one + God-inspired, as a Prophet. It is the second phasis of Hero-worship: the + first or oldest, we may say, has passed away without return; in the + history of the world there will not again be any man, never so great, whom + his fellowmen will take for a god. Nay we might rationally ask, Did any + set of human beings ever really think the man they <i>saw</i> there + standing beside them a god, the maker of this world? Perhaps not: it was + usually some man they remembered, or <i>had</i> seen. But neither can this + any more be. The Great Man is not recognized henceforth as a god any more. + </p> + <p> + It was a rude gross error, that of counting the Great Man a god. Yet let + us say that it is at all times difficult to know <i>what</i> he is, or how + to account of him and receive him! The most significant feature in the + history of an epoch is the manner it has of welcoming a Great Man. Ever, + to the true instincts of men, there is something godlike in him. Whether + they shall take him to be a god, to be a prophet, or what they shall take + him to be? that is ever a grand question; by their way of answering that, + we shall see, as through a little window, into the very heart of these + men's spiritual condition. For at bottom the Great Man, as he comes from + the hand of Nature, is ever the same kind of thing: Odin, Luther, Johnson, + Burns; I hope to make it appear that these are all originally of one + stuff; that only by the world's reception of them, and the shapes they + assume, are they so immeasurably diverse. The worship of Odin astonishes + us,—to fall prostrate before the Great Man, into <i>deliquium</i> of + love and wonder over him, and feel in their hearts that he was a denizen + of the skies, a god! This was imperfect enough: but to welcome, for + example, a Burns as we did, was that what we can call perfect? The most + precious gift that Heaven can give to the Earth; a man of "genius" as we + call it; the Soul of a Man actually sent down from the skies with a + God's-message to us,—this we waste away as an idle artificial + firework, sent to amuse us a little, and sink it into ashes, wreck and + ineffectuality: <i>such</i> reception of a Great Man I do not call very + perfect either! Looking into the heart of the thing, one may perhaps call + that of Burns a still uglier phenomenon, betokening still sadder + imperfections in mankind's ways, than the Scandinavian method itself! To + fall into mere unreasoning <i>deliquium</i> of love and admiration, was + not good; but such unreasoning, nay irrational supercilious no-love at all + is perhaps still worse!—It is a thing forever changing, this of + Hero-worship: different in each age, difficult to do well in any age. + Indeed, the heart of the whole business of the age, one may say, is to do + it well. + </p> + <p> + We have chosen Mahomet not as the most eminent Prophet; but as the one we + are freest to speak of. He is by no means the truest of Prophets; but I do + esteem him a true one. Farther, as there is no danger of our becoming, any + of us, Mahometans, I mean to say all the good of him I justly can. It is + the way to get at his secret: let us try to understand what <i>he</i> + meant with the world; what the world meant and means with him, will then + be a more answerable question. Our current hypothesis about Mahomet, that + he was a scheming Impostor, a Falsehood incarnate, that his religion is a + mere mass of quackery and fatuity, begins really to be now untenable to + any one. The lies, which well-meaning zeal has heaped round this man, are + disgraceful to ourselves only. When Pococke inquired of Grotius, Where the + proof was of that story of the pigeon, trained to pick peas from Mahomet's + ear, and pass for an angel dictating to him? Grotius answered that there + was no proof! It is really time to dismiss all that. The word this man + spoke has been the life-guidance now of a hundred and eighty millions of + men these twelve hundred years. These hundred and eighty millions were + made by God as well as we. A greater number of God's creatures believe in + Mahomet's word at this hour, than in any other word whatever. Are we to + suppose that it was a miserable piece of spiritual legerdemain, this which + so many creatures of the Almighty have lived by and died by? I, for my + part, cannot form any such supposition. I will believe most things sooner + than that. One would be entirely at a loss what to think of this world at + all, if quackery so grew and were sanctioned here. + </p> + <p> + Alas, such theories are very lamentable. If we would attain to knowledge + of anything in God's true Creation, let us disbelieve them wholly! They + are the product of an Age of Scepticism: they indicate the saddest + spiritual paralysis, and mere death-life of the souls of men: more godless + theory, I think, was never promulgated in this Earth. A false man found a + religion? Why, a false man cannot build a brick house! If he do not know + and follow truly the properties of mortar, burnt clay and what else be + works in, it is no house that he makes, but a rubbish-heap. It will not + stand for twelve centuries, to lodge a hundred and eighty millions; it + will fall straightway. A man must conform himself to Nature's laws, <i>be</i> + verily in communion with Nature and the truth of things, or Nature will + answer him, No, not at all! Speciosities are specious—ah me!—a + Cagliostro, many Cagliostros, prominent world-leaders, do prosper by their + quackery, for a day. It is like a forged bank-note; they get it passed out + of <i>their</i> worthless hands: others, not they, have to smart for it. + Nature bursts up in fire-flames, French Revolutions and such like, + proclaiming with terrible veracity that forged notes are forged. + </p> + <p> + But of a Great Man especially, of him I will venture to assert that it is + incredible he should have been other than true. It seems to me the primary + foundation of him, and of all that can lie in him, this. No Mirabeau, + Napoleon, Burns, Cromwell, no man adequate to do anything, but is first of + all in right earnest about it; what I call a sincere man. I should say <i>sincerity</i>, + a deep, great, genuine sincerity, is the first characteristic of all men + in any way heroic. Not the sincerity that calls itself sincere; ah no, + that is a very poor matter indeed;—a shallow braggart conscious + sincerity; oftenest self-conceit mainly. The Great Man's sincerity is of + the kind he cannot speak of, is not conscious of: nay, I suppose, he is + conscious rather of insincerity; for what man can walk accurately by the + law of truth for one day? No, the Great Man does not boast himself + sincere, far from that; perhaps does not ask himself if he is so: I would + say rather, his sincerity does not depend on himself; he cannot help being + sincere! The great Fact of Existence is great to him. Fly as he will, he + cannot get out of the awful presence of this Reality. His mind is so made; + he is great by that, first of all. Fearful and wonderful, real as Life, + real as Death, is this Universe to him. Though all men should forget its + truth, and walk in a vain show, he cannot. At all moments the Flame-image + glares in upon him; undeniable, there, there!—I wish you to take + this as my primary definition of a Great Man. A little man may have this, + it is competent to all men that God has made: but a Great Man cannot be + without it. + </p> + <p> + Such a man is what we call an <i>original</i> man; he comes to us at + first-hand. A messenger he, sent from the Infinite Unknown with tidings to + us. We may call him Poet, Prophet, God;—in one way or other, we all + feel that the words he utters are as no other man's words. Direct from the + Inner Fact of things;—he lives, and has to live, in daily communion + with that. Hearsays cannot hide it from him; he is blind, homeless, + miserable, following hearsays; <i>it</i> glares in upon him. Really his + utterances, are they not a kind of "revelation;"—what we must call + such for want of some other name? It is from the heart of the world that + he comes; he is portion of the primal reality of things. God has made many + revelations: but this man too, has not God made him, the latest and newest + of all? The "inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding:" we + must listen before all to him. + </p> + <p> + This Mahomet, then, we will in no wise consider as an Inanity and + Theatricality, a poor conscious ambitious schemer; we cannot conceive him + so. The rude message he delivered was a real one withal; an earnest + confused voice from the unknown Deep. The man's words were not false, nor + his workings here below; no Inanity and Simulacrum; a fiery mass of Life + cast up from the great bosom of Nature herself. To <i>kindle</i> the + world; the world's Maker had ordered it so. Neither can the faults, + imperfections, insincerities even, of Mahomet, if such were never so well + proved against him, shake this primary fact about him. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, we make too much of faults; the details of the business hide + the real centre of it. Faults? The greatest of faults, I should say, is to + be conscious of none. Readers of the Bible above all, one would think, + might know better. Who is called there "the man according to God's own + heart"? David, the Hebrew King, had fallen into sins enough; blackest + crimes; there was no want of sins. And thereupon the unbelievers sneer and + ask, Is this your man according to God's heart? The sneer, I must say, + seems to me but a shallow one. What are faults, what are the outward + details of a life; if the inner secret of it, the remorse, temptations, + true, often-baffled, never-ended struggle of it, be forgotten? "It is not + in man that walketh to direct his steps." Of all acts, is not, for a man, + <i>repentance</i> the most divine? The deadliest sin, I say, were that + same supercilious consciousness of no sin;—that is death; the heart + so conscious is divorced from sincerity, humility and fact; is dead: it is + "pure" as dead dry sand is pure. David's life and history, as written for + us in those Psalms of his, I consider to be the truest emblem ever given + of a man's moral progress and warfare here below. All earnest souls will + ever discern in it the faithful struggle of an earnest human soul towards + what is good and best. Struggle often baffled, sore baffled, down as into + entire wreck; yet a struggle never ended; ever, with tears, repentance, + true unconquerable purpose, begun anew. Poor human nature! Is not a man's + walking, in truth, always that: "a succession of falls"? Man can do no + other. In this wild element of a Life, he has to struggle onwards; now + fallen, deep-abased; and ever, with tears, repentance, with bleeding + heart, he has to rise again, struggle again still onwards. That his + struggle <i>be</i> a faithful unconquerable one: that is the question of + questions. We will put up with many sad details, if the soul of it were + true. Details by themselves will never teach us what it is. I believe we + misestimate Mahomet's faults even as faults: but the secret of him will + never be got by dwelling there. We will leave all this behind us; and + assuring ourselves that he did mean some true thing, ask candidly what it + was or might be. + </p> + <p> + These Arabs Mahomet was born among are certainly a notable people. Their + country itself is notable; the fit habitation for such a race. Savage + inaccessible rock-mountains, great grim deserts, alternating with + beautiful strips of verdure: wherever water is, there is greenness, + beauty; odoriferous balm-shrubs, date-trees, frankincense-trees. Consider + that wide waste horizon of sand, empty, silent, like a sand-sea, dividing + habitable place from habitable. You are all alone there, left alone with + the Universe; by day a fierce sun blazing down on it with intolerable + radiance; by night the great deep Heaven with its stars. Such a country is + fit for a swift-handed, deep-hearted race of men. There is something most + agile, active, and yet most meditative, enthusiastic in the Arab + character. The Persians are called the French of the East; we will call + the Arabs Oriental Italians. A gifted noble people; a people of wild + strong feelings, and of iron restraint over these: the characteristic of + noble-mindedness, of genius. The wild Bedouin welcomes the stranger to his + tent, as one having right to all that is there; were it his worst enemy, + he will slay his foal to treat him, will serve him with sacred hospitality + for three days, will set him fairly on his way;—and then, by another + law as sacred, kill him if he can. In words too as in action. They are not + a loquacious people, taciturn rather; but eloquent, gifted when they do + speak. An earnest, truthful kind of men. They are, as we know, of Jewish + kindred: but with that deadly terrible earnestness of the Jews they seem + to combine something graceful, brilliant, which is not Jewish. They had + "Poetic contests" among them before the time of Mahomet. Sale says, at + Ocadh, in the South of Arabia, there were yearly fairs, and there, when + the merchandising was done, Poets sang for prizes:—the wild people + gathered to hear that. + </p> + <p> + One Jewish quality these Arabs manifest; the outcome of many or of all + high qualities: what we may call religiosity. From of old they had been + zealous worshippers, according to their light. They worshipped the stars, + as Sabeans; worshipped many natural objects,—recognized them as + symbols, immediate manifestations, of the Maker of Nature. It was wrong; + and yet not wholly wrong. All God's works are still in a sense symbols of + God. Do we not, as I urged, still account it a merit to recognize a + certain inexhaustible significance, "poetic beauty" as we name it, in all + natural objects whatsoever? A man is a poet, and honored, for doing that, + and speaking or singing it,—a kind of diluted worship. They had many + Prophets, these Arabs; Teachers each to his tribe, each according to the + light he had. But indeed, have we not from of old the noblest of proofs, + still palpable to every one of us, of what devoutness and noble-mindedness + had dwelt in these rustic thoughtful peoples? Biblical critics seem agreed + that our own <i>Book of Job</i> was written in that region of the world. I + call that, apart from all theories about it, one of the grandest things + ever written with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were not Hebrew; such a + noble universality, different from noble patriotism or sectarianism, + reigns in it. A noble Book; all men's Book! It is our first, oldest + statement of the never-ending Problem,—man's destiny, and God's ways + with him here in this earth. And all in such free flowing outlines; grand + in its sincerity, in its simplicity; in its epic melody, and repose of + reconcilement. There is the seeing eye, the mildly understanding heart. So + <i>true</i> every way; true eyesight and vision for all things; material + things no less than spiritual: the Horse,—"hast thou clothed his + neck with <i>thunder</i>?"—he "<i>laughs</i> at the shaking of the + spear!" Such living likenesses were never since drawn. Sublime sorrow, + sublime reconciliation; oldest choral melody as of the heart of mankind;—so + soft, and great; as the summer midnight, as the world with its seas and + stars! There is nothing written, I think, in the Bible or out of it, of + equal literary merit.— + </p> + <p> + To the idolatrous Arabs one of the most ancient universal objects of + worship was that Black Stone, still kept in the building called Caabah, at + Mecca. Diodorus Siculus mentions this Caabah in a way not to be mistaken, + as the oldest, most honored temple in his time; that is, some half-century + before our Era. Silvestre de Sacy says there is some likelihood that the + Black Stone is an aerolite. In that case, some man might <i>see</i> it + fall out of Heaven! It stands now beside the Well Zemzem; the Caabah is + built over both. A Well is in all places a beautiful affecting object, + gushing out like life from the hard earth;—still more so in those + hot dry countries, where it is the first condition of being. The Well + Zemzem has its name from the bubbling sound of the waters, <i>zem-zem</i>; + they think it is the Well which Hagar found with her little Ishmael in the + wilderness: the aerolite and it have been sacred now, and had a Caabah + over them, for thousands of years. A curious object, that Caabah! There it + stands at this hour, in the black cloth-covering the Sultan sends it + yearly; "twenty-seven cubits high;" with circuit, with double circuit of + pillars, with festoon-rows of lamps and quaint ornaments: the lamps will + be lighted again <i>this</i> night,—to glitter again under the + stars. An authentic fragment of the oldest Past. It is the <i>Keblah</i> + of all Moslem: from Delhi all onwards to Morocco, the eyes of innumerable + praying men are turned towards it, five times, this day and all days: one + of the notablest centres in the Habitation of Men. + </p> + <p> + It had been from the sacredness attached to this Caabah Stone and Hagar's + Well, from the pilgrimings of all tribes of Arabs thither, that Mecca took + its rise as a Town. A great town once, though much decayed now. It has no + natural advantage for a town; stands in a sandy hollow amid bare barren + hills, at a distance from the sea; its provisions, its very bread, have to + be imported. But so many pilgrims needed lodgings: and then all places of + pilgrimage do, from the first, become places of trade. The first day + pilgrims meet, merchants have also met: where men see themselves assembled + for one object, they find that they can accomplish other objects which + depend on meeting together. Mecca became the Fair of all Arabia. And + thereby indeed the chief staple and warehouse of whatever Commerce there + was between the Indian and the Western countries, Syria, Egypt, even + Italy. It had at one time a population of 100,000; buyers, forwarders of + those Eastern and Western products; importers for their own behoof of + provisions and corn. The government was a kind of irregular aristocratic + republic, not without a touch of theocracy. Ten Men of a chief tribe, + chosen in some rough way, were Governors of Mecca, and Keepers of the + Caabah. The Koreish were the chief tribe in Mahomet's time; his own family + was of that tribe. The rest of the Nation, fractioned and cut asunder by + deserts, lived under similar rude patriarchal governments by one or + several: herdsmen, carriers, traders, generally robbers too; being + oftenest at war one with another, or with all: held together by no open + bond, if it were not this meeting at the Caabah, where all forms of Arab + Idolatry assembled in common adoration;—held mainly by the <i>inward</i> + indissoluble bond of a common blood and language. In this way had the + Arabs lived for long ages, unnoticed by the world; a people of great + qualities, unconsciously waiting for the day when they should become + notable to all the world. Their Idolatries appear to have been in a + tottering state; much was getting into confusion and fermentation among + them. Obscure tidings of the most important Event ever transacted in this + world, the Life and Death of the Divine Man in Judea, at once the symptom + and cause of immeasurable change to all people in the world, had in the + course of centuries reached into Arabia too; and could not but, of itself, + have produced fermentation there. + </p> + <p> + It was among this Arab people, so circumstanced, in the year 570 of our + Era, that the man Mahomet was born. He was of the family of Hashem, of the + Koreish tribe as we said; though poor, connected with the chief persons of + his country. Almost at his birth he lost his Father; at the age of six + years his Mother too, a woman noted for her beauty, her worth and sense: + he fell to the charge of his Grandfather, an old man, a hundred years old. + A good old man: Mahomet's Father, Abdallah, had been his youngest favorite + son. He saw in Mahomet, with his old life-worn eyes, a century old, the + lost Abdallah come back again, all that was left of Abdallah. He loved the + little orphan Boy greatly; used to say, They must take care of that + beautiful little Boy, nothing in their kindred was more precious than he. + At his death, while the boy was still but two years old, he left him in + charge to Abu Thaleb the eldest of the Uncles, as to him that now was head + of the house. By this Uncle, a just and rational man as everything + betokens, Mahomet was brought up in the best Arab way. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet, as he grew up, accompanied his Uncle on trading journeys and such + like; in his eighteenth year one finds him a fighter following his Uncle + in war. But perhaps the most significant of all his journeys is one we + find noted as of some years' earlier date: a journey to the Fairs of + Syria. The young man here first came in contact with a quite foreign + world,—with one foreign element of endless moment to him: the + Christian Religion. I know not what to make of that "Sergius, the + Nestorian Monk," whom Abu Thaleb and he are said to have lodged with; or + how much any monk could have taught one still so young. Probably enough it + is greatly exaggerated, this of the Nestorian Monk. Mahomet was only + fourteen; had no language but his own: much in Syria must have been a + strange unintelligible whirlpool to him. But the eyes of the lad were + open; glimpses of many things would doubtless be taken in, and lie very + enigmatic as yet, which were to ripen in a strange way into views, into + beliefs and insights one day. These journeys to Syria were probably the + beginning of much to Mahomet. + </p> + <p> + One other circumstance we must not forget: that he had no school-learning; + of the thing we call school-learning none at all. The art of writing was + but just introduced into Arabia; it seems to be the true opinion that + Mahomet never could write! Life in the Desert, with its experiences, was + all his education. What of this infinite Universe he, from his dim place, + with his own eyes and thoughts, could take in, so much and no more of it + was he to know. Curious, if we will reflect on it, this of having no + books. Except by what he could see for himself, or hear of by uncertain + rumor of speech in the obscure Arabian Desert, he could know nothing. The + wisdom that had been before him or at a distance from him in the world, + was in a manner as good as not there for him. Of the great brother souls, + flame-beacons through so many lands and times, no one directly + communicates with this great soul. He is alone there, deep down in the + bosom of the Wilderness; has to grow up so,—alone with Nature and + his own Thoughts. + </p> + <p> + But, from an early age, he had been remarked as a thoughtful man. His + companions named him "<i>Al Amin</i>, The Faithful." A man of truth and + fidelity; true in what he did, in what he spake and thought. They noted + that <i>he</i> always meant something. A man rather taciturn in speech; + silent when there was nothing to be said; but pertinent, wise, sincere, + when he did speak; always throwing light on the matter. This is the only + sort of speech <i>worth</i> speaking! Through life we find him to have + been regarded as an altogether solid, brotherly, genuine man. A serious, + sincere character; yet amiable, cordial, companionable, jocose even;—a + good laugh in him withal: there are men whose laugh is as untrue as + anything about them; who cannot laugh. One hears of Mahomet's beauty: his + fine sagacious honest face, brown florid complexion, beaming black eyes;—I + somehow like too that vein on the brow, which swelled up black when he was + in anger: like the "<i>horseshoe</i> vein" in Scott's <i>Redgauntlet</i>. + It was a kind of feature in the Hashem family, this black swelling vein in + the brow; Mahomet had it prominent, as would appear. A spontaneous, + passionate, yet just, true-meaning man! Full of wild faculty, fire and + light; of wild worth, all uncultured; working out his life-task in the + depths of the Desert there. + </p> + <p> + How he was placed with Kadijah, a rich Widow, as her Steward, and + travelled in her business, again to the Fairs of Syria; how he managed + all, as one can well understand, with fidelity, adroitness; how her + gratitude, her regard for him grew: the story of their marriage is + altogether a graceful intelligible one, as told us by the Arab authors. He + was twenty-five; she forty, though still beautiful. He seems to have lived + in a most affectionate, peaceable, wholesome way with this wedded + benefactress; loving her truly, and her alone. It goes greatly against the + impostor theory, the fact that he lived in this entirely unexceptionable, + entirely quiet and commonplace way, till the heat of his years was done. + He was forty before he talked of any mission from Heaven. All his + irregularities, real and supposed, date from after his fiftieth year, when + the good Kadijah died. All his "ambition," seemingly, had been, hitherto, + to live an honest life; his "fame," the mere good opinion of neighbors + that knew him, had been sufficient hitherto. Not till he was already + getting old, the prurient heat of his life all burnt out, and <i>peace</i> + growing to be the chief thing this world could give him, did he start on + the "career of ambition;" and, belying all his past character and + existence, set up as a wretched empty charlatan to acquire what he could + now no longer enjoy! For my share, I have no faith whatever in that. + </p> + <p> + Ah no: this deep-hearted Son of the Wilderness, with his beaming black + eyes and open social deep soul, had other thoughts in him than ambition. A + silent great soul; he was one of those who cannot <i>but</i> be in + earnest; whom Nature herself has appointed to be sincere. While others + walk in formulas and hearsays, contented enough to dwell there, this man + could not screen himself in formulas; he was alone with his own soul and + the reality of things. The great Mystery of Existence, as I said, glared + in upon him, with its terrors, with its splendors; no hearsays could hide + that unspeakable fact, "Here am I!" Such <i>sincerity</i>, as we named it, + has in very truth something of divine. The word of such a man is a Voice + direct from Nature's own Heart. Men do and must listen to that as to + nothing else;—all else is wind in comparison. From of old, a + thousand thoughts, in his pilgrimings and wanderings, had been in this + man: What am I? What <i>is</i> this unfathomable Thing I live in, which + men name Universe? What is Life; what is Death? What am I to believe? What + am I to do? The grim rocks of Mount Hara, of Mount Sinai, the stern sandy + solitudes answered not. The great Heaven rolling silent overhead, with its + blue-glancing stars, answered not. There was no answer. The man's own + soul, and what of God's inspiration dwelt there, had to answer! + </p> + <p> + It is the thing which all men have to ask themselves; which we too have to + ask, and answer. This wild man felt it to be of <i>infinite</i> moment; + all other things of no moment whatever in comparison. The jargon of + argumentative Greek Sects, vague traditions of Jews, the stupid routine of + Arab Idolatry: there was no answer in these. A Hero, as I repeat, has this + first distinction, which indeed we may call first and last, the Alpha and + Omega of his whole Heroism, That he looks through the shows of things into + <i>things</i>. Use and wont, respectable hearsay, respectable formula: all + these are good, or are not good. There is something behind and beyond all + these, which all these must correspond with, be the image of, or they are—<i>Idolatries</i>; + "bits of black wood pretending to be God;" to the earnest soul a mockery + and abomination. Idolatries never so gilded, waited on by heads of the + Koreish, will do nothing for this man. Though all men walk by them, what + good is it? The great Reality stands glaring there upon <i>him</i>. He + there has to answer it, or perish miserably. Now, even now, or else + through all Eternity never! Answer it; <i>thou</i> must find an answer.—Ambition? + What could all Arabia do for this man; with the crown of Greek Heraclius, + of Persian Chosroes, and all crowns in the Earth;—what could they + all do for him? It was not of the Earth he wanted to hear tell; it was of + the Heaven above and of the Hell beneath. All crowns and sovereignties + whatsoever, where would <i>they</i> in a few brief years be? To be Sheik + of Mecca or Arabia, and have a bit of gilt wood put into your hand,—will + that be one's salvation? I decidedly think, not. We will leave it + altogether, this impostor hypothesis, as not credible; not very tolerable + even, worthy chiefly of dismissal by us. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet had been wont to retire yearly, during the month Ramadhan, into + solitude and silence; as indeed was the Arab custom; a praiseworthy + custom, which such a man, above all, would find natural and useful. + Communing with his own heart, in the silence of the mountains; himself + silent; open to the "small still voices:" it was a right natural custom! + Mahomet was in his fortieth year, when having withdrawn to a cavern in + Mount Hara, near Mecca, during this Ramadhan, to pass the month in prayer, + and meditation on those great questions, he one day told his wife Kadijah, + who with his household was with him or near him this year, That by the + unspeakable special favor of Heaven he had now found it all out; was in + doubt and darkness no longer, but saw it all. That all these Idols and + Formulas were nothing, miserable bits of wood; that there was One God in + and over all; and we must leave all Idols, and look to Him. That God is + great; and that there is nothing else great! He is the Reality. Wooden + Idols are not real; He is real. He made us at first, sustains us yet; we + and all things are but the shadow of Him; a transitory garment veiling the + Eternal Splendor. "<i>Allah akbar</i>, God is great;"—and then also + "<i>Islam</i>," That we must submit to God. That our whole strength lies + in resigned submission to Him, whatsoever He do to us. For this world, and + for the other! The thing He sends to us, were it death and worse than + death, shall be good, shall be best; we resign ourselves to God.—"If + this be <i>Islam</i>," says Goethe, "do we not all live in <i>Islam</i>?" + Yes, all of us that have any moral life; we all live so. It has ever been + held the highest wisdom for a man not merely to submit to Necessity,—Necessity + will make him submit,—but to know and believe well that the stern + thing which Necessity had ordered was the wisest, the best, the thing + wanted there. To cease his frantic pretension of scanning this great + God's-World in his small fraction of a brain; to know that it <i>had</i> + verily, though deep beyond his soundings, a Just Law, that the soul of it + was Good;—that his part in it was to conform to the Law of the + Whole, and in devout silence follow that; not questioning it, obeying it + as unquestionable. + </p> + <p> + I say, this is yet the only true morality known. A man is right and + invincible, virtuous and on the road towards sure conquest, precisely + while he joins himself to the great deep Law of the World, in spite of all + superficial laws, temporary appearances, profit-and-loss calculations; he + is victorious while he co-operates with that great central Law, not + victorious otherwise:—and surely his first chance of co-operating + with it, or getting into the course of it, is to know with his whole soul + that it is; that it is good, and alone good! This is the soul of Islam; it + is properly the soul of Christianity;—for Islam is definable as a + confused form of Christianity; had Christianity not been, neither had it + been. Christianity also commands us, before all, to be resigned to God. We + are to take no counsel with flesh and blood; give ear to no vain cavils, + vain sorrows and wishes: to know that we know nothing; that the worst and + cruelest to our eyes is not what it seems; that we have to receive + whatsoever befalls us as sent from God above, and say, It is good and + wise, God is great! "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Islam + means in its way Denial of Self, Annihilation of Self. This is yet the + highest Wisdom that Heaven has revealed to our Earth. + </p> + <p> + Such light had come, as it could, to illuminate the darkness of this wild + Arab soul. A confused dazzling splendor as of life and Heaven, in the + great darkness which threatened to be death: he called it revelation and + the angel Gabriel;—who of us yet can know what to call it? It is the + "inspiration of the Almighty" that giveth us understanding. To <i>know</i>; + to get into the truth of anything, is ever a mystic act,—of which + the best Logics can but babble on the surface. "Is not Belief the true + god-announcing Miracle?" says Novalis.—That Mahomet's whole soul, + set in flame with this grand Truth vouchsafed him, should feel as if it + were important and the only important thing, was very natural. That + Providence had unspeakably honored him by revealing it, saving him from + death and darkness; that he therefore was bound to make known the same to + all creatures: this is what was meant by "Mahomet is the Prophet of God;" + this too is not without its true meaning.— + </p> + <p> + The good Kadijah, we can fancy, listened to him with wonder, with doubt: + at length she answered: Yes, it was true this that he said. One can fancy + too the boundless gratitude of Mahomet; and how of all the kindnesses she + had done him, this of believing the earnest struggling word he now spoke + was the greatest. "It is certain," says Novalis, "my Conviction gains + infinitely, the moment another soul will believe in it." It is a boundless + favor.—He never forgot this good Kadijah. Long afterwards, Ayesha + his young favorite wife, a woman who indeed distinguished herself among + the Moslem, by all manner of qualities, through her whole long life; this + young brilliant Ayesha was, one day, questioning him: "Now am not I better + than Kadijah? She was a widow; old, and had lost her looks: you love me + better than you did her?"—"No, by Allah!" answered Mahomet: "No, by + Allah! She believed in me when none else would believe. In the whole world + I had but one friend, and she was that!"—Seid, his Slave, also + believed in him; these with his young Cousin Ali, Abu Thaleb's son, were + his first converts. + </p> + <p> + He spoke of his Doctrine to this man and that; but the most treated it + with ridicule, with indifference; in three years, I think, he had gained + but thirteen followers. His progress was slow enough. His encouragement to + go on, was altogether the usual encouragement that such a man in such a + case meets. After some three years of small success, he invited forty of + his chief kindred to an entertainment; and there stood up and told them + what his pretension was: that he had this thing to promulgate abroad to + all men; that it was the highest thing, the one thing: which of them would + second him in that? Amid the doubt and silence of all, young Ali, as yet a + lad of sixteen, impatient of the silence, started up, and exclaimed in + passionate fierce language, That he would! The assembly, among whom was + Abu Thaleb, Ali's Father, could not be unfriendly to Mahomet; yet the + sight there, of one unlettered elderly man, with a lad of sixteen, + deciding on such an enterprise against all mankind, appeared ridiculous to + them; the assembly broke up in laughter. Nevertheless it proved not a + laughable thing; it was a very serious thing! As for this young Ali, one + cannot but like him. A noble-minded creature, as he shows himself, now and + always afterwards; full of affection, of fiery daring. Something + chivalrous in him; brave as a lion; yet with a grace, a truth and + affection worthy of Christian knighthood. He died by assassination in the + Mosque at Bagdad; a death occasioned by his own generous fairness, + confidence in the fairness of others: he said, If the wound proved not + unto death, they must pardon the Assassin; but if it did, then they must + slay him straightway, that so they two in the same hour might appear + before God, and see which side of that quarrel was the just one! + </p> + <p> + Mahomet naturally gave offence to the Koreish, Keepers of the Caabah, + superintendents of the Idols. One or two men of influence had joined him: + the thing spread slowly, but it was spreading. Naturally he gave offence + to everybody: Who is this that pretends to be wiser than we all; that + rebukes us all, as mere fools and worshippers of wood! Abu Thaleb the good + Uncle spoke with him: Could he not be silent about all that; believe it + all for himself, and not trouble others, anger the chief men, endanger + himself and them all, talking of it? Mahomet answered: If the Sun stood on + his right hand and the Moon on his left, ordering him to hold his peace, + he could not obey! No: there was something in this Truth he had got which + was of Nature herself; equal in rank to Sun, or Moon, or whatsoever thing + Nature had made. It would speak itself there, so long as the Almighty + allowed it, in spite of Sun and Moon, and all Koreish and all men and + things. It must do that, and could do no other. Mahomet answered so; and, + they say, "burst into tears." Burst into tears: he felt that Abu Thaleb + was good to him; that the task he had got was no soft, but a stern and + great one. + </p> + <p> + He went on speaking to who would listen to him; publishing his Doctrine + among the pilgrims as they came to Mecca; gaining adherents in this place + and that. Continual contradiction, hatred, open or secret danger attended + him. His powerful relations protected Mahomet himself; but by and by, on + his own advice, all his adherents had to quit Mecca, and seek refuge in + Abyssinia over the sea. The Koreish grew ever angrier; laid plots, and + swore oaths among them, to put Mahomet to death with their own hands. Abu + Thaleb was dead, the good Kadijah was dead. Mahomet is not solicitous of + sympathy from us; but his outlook at this time was one of the dismalest. + He had to hide in caverns, escape in disguise; fly hither and thither; + homeless, in continual peril of his life. More than once it seemed all + over with him; more than once it turned on a straw, some rider's horse + taking fright or the like, whether Mahomet and his Doctrine had not ended + there, and not been heard of at all. But it was not to end so. + </p> + <p> + In the thirteenth year of his mission, finding his enemies all banded + against him, forty sworn men, one out of every tribe, waiting to take his + life, and no continuance possible at Mecca for him any longer, Mahomet + fled to the place then called Yathreb, where he had gained some adherents; + the place they now call Medina, or "<i>Medinat al Nabi</i>, the City of + the Prophet," from that circumstance. It lay some two hundred miles off, + through rocks and deserts; not without great difficulty, in such mood as + we may fancy, he escaped thither, and found welcome. The whole East dates + its era from this Flight, <i>hegira</i> as they name it: the Year 1 of + this Hegira is 622 of our Era, the fifty-third of Mahomet's life. He was + now becoming an old man; his friends sinking round him one by one; his + path desolate, encompassed with danger: unless he could find hope in his + own heart, the outward face of things was but hopeless for him. It is so + with all men in the like case. Hitherto Mahomet had professed to publish + his Religion by the way of preaching and persuasion alone. But now, driven + foully out of his native country, since unjust men had not only given no + ear to his earnest Heaven's-message, the deep cry of his heart, but would + not even let him live if he kept speaking it,—the wild Son of the + Desert resolved to defend himself, like a man and Arab. If the Koreish + will have it so, they shall have it. Tidings, felt to be of infinite + moment to them and all men, they would not listen to these; would trample + them down by sheer violence, steel and murder: well, let steel try it + then! Ten years more this Mahomet had; all of fighting of breathless + impetuous toil and struggle; with what result we know. + </p> + <p> + Much has been said of Mahomet's propagating his Religion by the sword. It + is no doubt far nobler what we have to boast of the Christian Religion, + that it propagated itself peaceably in the way of preaching and + conviction. Yet withal, if we take this for an argument of the truth or + falsehood of a religion, there is a radical mistake in it. The sword + indeed: but where will you get your sword! Every new opinion, at its + starting, is precisely in a <i>minority of one</i>. In one man's head + alone, there it dwells as yet. One man alone of the whole world believes + it; there is one man against all men. That <i>he</i> take a sword, and try + to propagate with that, will do little for him. You must first get your + sword! On the whole, a thing will propagate itself as it can. We do not + find, of the Christian Religion either, that it always disdained the + sword, when once it had got one. Charlemagne's conversion of the Saxons + was not by preaching. I care little about the sword: I will allow a thing + to struggle for itself in this world, with any sword or tongue or + implement it has, or can lay hold of. We will let it preach, and + pamphleteer, and fight, and to the uttermost bestir itself, and do, beak + and claws, whatsoever is in it; very sure that it will, in the long-run, + conquer nothing which does not deserve to be conquered. What is better + than itself, it cannot put away, but only what is worse. In this great + Duel, Nature herself is umpire, and can do no wrong: the thing which is + deepest-rooted in Nature, what we call <i>truest</i>, that thing and not + the other will be found growing at last. + </p> + <p> + Here however, in reference to much that there is in Mahomet and his + success, we are to remember what an umpire Nature is; what a greatness, + composure of depth and tolerance there is in her. You take wheat to cast + into the Earth's bosom; your wheat may be mixed with chaff, chopped straw, + barn-sweepings, dust and all imaginable rubbish; no matter: you cast it + into the kind just Earth; she grows the wheat,—the whole rubbish she + silently absorbs, shrouds <i>it</i> in, says nothing of the rubbish. The + yellow wheat is growing there; the good Earth is silent about all the + rest,—has silently turned all the rest to some benefit too, and + makes no complaint about it! So everywhere in Nature! She is true and not + a lie; and yet so great, and just, and motherly in her truth. She requires + of a thing only that it <i>be</i> genuine of heart; she will protect it if + so; will not, if not so. There is a soul of truth in all the things she + ever gave harbor to. Alas, is not this the history of all highest Truth + that comes or ever came into the world? The <i>body</i> of them all is + imperfection, an element of light in darkness: to us they have to come + embodied in mere Logic, in some merely <i>scientific</i> Theorem of the + Universe; which <i>cannot</i> be complete; which cannot but be found, one + day, incomplete, erroneous, and so die and disappear. The body of all + Truth dies; and yet in all, I say, there is a soul which never dies; which + in new and ever-nobler embodiment lives immortal as man himself! It is the + way with Nature. The genuine essence of Truth never dies. That it be + genuine, a voice from the great Deep of Nature, there is the point at + Nature's judgment-seat. What <i>we</i> call pure or impure, is not with + her the final question. Not how much chaff is in you; but whether you have + any wheat. Pure? I might say to many a man: Yes, you are pure; pure + enough; but you are chaff,—insincere hypothesis, hearsay, formality; + you never were in contact with the great heart of the Universe at all; you + are properly neither pure nor impure; you <i>are</i> nothing, Nature has + no business with you. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet's Creed we called a kind of Christianity; and really, if we look + at the wild rapt earnestness with which it was believed and laid to heart, + I should say a better kind than that of those miserable Syrian Sects, with + their vain janglings about <i>Homoiousion</i> and <i>Homoousion</i>, the + head full of worthless noise, the heart empty and dead! The truth of it is + embedded in portentous error and falsehood; but the truth of it makes it + be believed, not the falsehood: it succeeded by its truth. A bastard kind + of Christianity, but a living kind; with a heart-life in it; not dead, + chopping barren logic merely! Out of all that rubbish of Arab idolatries, + argumentative theologies, traditions, subtleties, rumors and hypotheses of + Greeks and Jews, with their idle wire-drawings, this wild man of the + Desert, with his wild sincere heart, earnest as death and life, with his + great flashing natural eyesight, had seen into the kernel of the matter. + Idolatry is nothing: these Wooden Idols of yours, "ye rub them with oil + and wax, and the flies stick on them,"—these are wood, I tell you! + They can do nothing for you; they are an impotent blasphemous presence; a + horror and abomination, if ye knew them. God alone is; God alone has + power; He made us, He can kill us and keep us alive: "<i>Allah akbar</i>, + God is great." Understand that His will is the best for you; that + howsoever sore to flesh and blood, you will find it the wisest, best: you + are bound to take it so; in this world and in the next, you have no other + thing that you can do! + </p> + <p> + And now if the wild idolatrous men did believe this, and with their fiery + hearts lay hold of it to do it, in what form soever it came to them, I say + it was well worthy of being believed. In one form or the other, I say it + is still the one thing worthy of being believed by all men. Man does + hereby become the high-priest of this Temple of a World. He is in harmony + with the Decrees of the Author of this World; cooperating with them, not + vainly withstanding them: I know, to this day, no better definition of + Duty than that same. All that is <i>right</i> includes itself in this of + co-operating with the real Tendency of the World: you succeed by this (the + World's Tendency will succeed), you are good, and in the right course + there. <i>Homoiousion</i>, <i>Homoousion</i>, vain logical jangle, then or + before or at any time, may jangle itself out, and go whither and how it + likes: this is the <i>thing</i> it all struggles to mean, if it would mean + anything. If it do not succeed in meaning this, it means nothing. Not that + Abstractions, logical Propositions, be correctly worded or incorrectly; + but that living concrete Sons of Adam do lay this to heart: that is the + important point. Islam devoured all these vain jangling Sects; and I think + had right to do so. It was a Reality, direct from the great Heart of + Nature once more. Arab idolatries, Syrian formulas, whatsoever was not + equally real, had to go up in flame,—mere dead <i>fuel</i>, in + various senses, for this which was <i>fire</i>. + </p> + <p> + It was during these wild warfarings and strugglings, especially after the + Flight to Mecca, that Mahomet dictated at intervals his Sacred Book, which + they name <i>Koran</i>, or <i>Reading</i>, "Thing to be read." This is the + Work he and his disciples made so much of, asking all the world, Is not + that a miracle? The Mahometans regard their Koran with a reverence which + few Christians pay even to their Bible. It is admitted every where as the + standard of all law and all practice; the thing to be gone upon in + speculation and life; the message sent direct out of Heaven, which this + Earth has to conform to, and walk by; the thing to be read. Their Judges + decide by it; all Moslem are bound to study it, seek in it for the light + of their life. They have mosques where it is all read daily; thirty relays + of priests take it up in succession, get through the whole each day. + There, for twelve hundred years, has the voice of this Book, at all + moments, kept sounding through the ears and the hearts of so many men. We + hear of Mahometan Doctors that had read it seventy thousand times! + </p> + <p> + Very curious: if one sought for "discrepancies of national taste," here + surely were the most eminent instance of that! We also can read the Koran; + our Translation of it, by Sale, is known to be a very fair one. I must + say, it is as toilsome reading as I ever undertook. A wearisome confused + jumble, crude, incondite; endless iterations, long-windedness, + entanglement; most crude, incondite;—insupportable stupidity, in + short! Nothing but a sense of duty could carry any European through the + Koran. We read in it, as we might in the State-Paper Office, unreadable + masses of lumber, that perhaps we may get some glimpses of a remarkable + man. It is true we have it under disadvantages: the Arabs see more method + in it than we. Mahomet's followers found the Koran lying all in fractions, + as it had been written down at first promulgation; much of it, they say, + on shoulder-blades of mutton, flung pell-mell into a chest: and they + published it, without any discoverable order as to time or otherwise;—merely + trying, as would seem, and this not very strictly, to put the longest + chapters first. The real beginning of it, in that way, lies almost at the + end: for the earliest portions were the shortest. Read in its historical + sequence it perhaps would not be so bad. Much of it, too, they say, is + rhythmic; a kind of wild chanting song, in the original. This may be a + great point; much perhaps has been lost in the Translation here. Yet with + every allowance, one feels it difficult to see how any mortal ever could + consider this Koran as a Book written in Heaven, too good for the Earth; + as a well-written book, or indeed as a <i>book</i> at all; and not a + bewildered rhapsody; <i>written</i>, so far as writing goes, as badly as + almost any book ever was! So much for national discrepancies, and the + standard of taste. + </p> + <p> + Yet I should say, it was not unintelligible how the Arabs might so love + it. When once you get this confused coil of a Koran fairly off your hands, + and have it behind you at a distance, the essential type of it begins to + disclose itself; and in this there is a merit quite other than the + literary one. If a book come from the heart, it will contrive to reach + other hearts; all art and author-craft are of small amount to that. One + would say the primary character of the Koran is this of its <i>genuineness</i>, + of its being a <i>bona-fide</i> book. Prideaux, I know, and others have + represented it as a mere bundle of juggleries; chapter after chapter got + up to excuse and varnish the author's successive sins, forward his + ambitions and quackeries: but really it is time to dismiss all that. I do + not assert Mahomet's continual sincerity: who is continually sincere? But + I confess I can make nothing of the critic, in these times, who would + accuse him of deceit <i>prepense</i>; of conscious deceit generally, or + perhaps at all;—still more, of living in a mere element of conscious + deceit, and writing this Koran as a forger and juggler would have done! + Every candid eye, I think, will read the Koran far otherwise than so. It + is the confused ferment of a great rude human soul; rude, untutored, that + cannot even read; but fervent, earnest, struggling vehemently to utter + itself in words. With a kind of breathless intensity he strives to utter + himself; the thoughts crowd on him pell-mell: for very multitude of things + to say, he can get nothing said. The meaning that is in him shapes itself + into no form of composition, is stated in no sequence, method, or + coherence;—they are not <i>shaped</i> at all, these thoughts of his; + flung out unshaped, as they struggle and tumble there, in their chaotic + inarticulate state. We said "stupid:" yet natural stupidity is by no means + the character of Mahomet's Book; it is natural uncultivation rather. The + man has not studied speaking; in the haste and pressure of continual + fighting, has not time to mature himself into fit speech. The panting + breathless haste and vehemence of a man struggling in the thick of battle + for life and salvation; this is the mood he is in! A headlong haste; for + very magnitude of meaning, he cannot get himself articulated into words. + The successive utterances of a soul in that mood, colored by the various + vicissitudes of three-and-twenty years; now well uttered, now worse: this + is the Koran. + </p> + <p> + For we are to consider Mahomet, through these three-and-twenty years, as + the centre of a world wholly in conflict. Battles with the Koreish and + Heathen, quarrels among his own people, backslidings of his own wild + heart; all this kept him in a perpetual whirl, his soul knowing rest no + more. In wakeful nights, as one may fancy, the wild soul of the man, + tossing amid these vortices, would hail any light of a decision for them + as a veritable light from Heaven; <i>any</i> making-up of his mind, so + blessed, indispensable for him there, would seem the inspiration of a + Gabriel. Forger and juggler? No, no! This great fiery heart, seething, + simmering like a great furnace of thoughts, was not a juggler's. His Life + was a Fact to him; this God's Universe an awful Fact and Reality. He has + faults enough. The man was an uncultured semi-barbarous Son of Nature, + much of the Bedouin still clinging to him: we must take him for that. But + for a wretched Simulacrum, a hungry Impostor without eyes or heart, + practicing for a mess of pottage such blasphemous swindlery, forgery of + celestial documents, continual high-treason against his Maker and Self, we + will not and cannot take him. + </p> + <p> + Sincerity, in all senses, seems to me the merit of the Koran; what had + rendered it precious to the wild Arab men. It is, after all, the first and + last merit in a book; gives rise to merits of all kinds,—nay, at + bottom, it alone can give rise to merit of any kind. Curiously, through + these incondite masses of tradition, vituperation, complaint, ejaculation + in the Koran, a vein of true direct insight, of what we might almost call + poetry, is found straggling. The body of the Book is made up of mere + tradition, and as it were vehement enthusiastic extempore preaching. He + returns forever to the old stories of the Prophets as they went current in + the Arab memory: how Prophet after Prophet, the Prophet Abraham, the + Prophet Hud, the Prophet Moses, Christian and other real and fabulous + Prophets, had come to this Tribe and to that, warning men of their sin; + and been received by them even as he Mahomet was,—which is a great + solace to him. These things he repeats ten, perhaps twenty times; again + and ever again, with wearisome iteration; has never done repeating them. A + brave Samuel Johnson, in his forlorn garret, might con over the + Biographies of Authors in that way! This is the great staple of the Koran. + But curiously, through all this, comes ever and anon some glance as of the + real thinker and seer. He has actually an eye for the world, this Mahomet: + with a certain directness and rugged vigor, he brings home still, to our + heart, the thing his own heart has been opened to. I make but little of + his praises of Allah, which many praise; they are borrowed I suppose + mainly from the Hebrew, at least they are far surpassed there. But the eye + that flashes direct into the heart of things, and <i>sees</i> the truth of + them; this is to me a highly interesting object. Great Nature's own gift; + which she bestows on all; but which only one in the thousand does not cast + sorrowfully away: it is what I call sincerity of vision; the test of a + sincere heart. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet can work no miracles; he often answers impatiently: I can work no + miracles. I? "I am a Public Preacher;" appointed to preach this doctrine + to all creatures. Yet the world, as we can see, had really from of old + been all one great miracle to him. Look over the world, says he; is it not + wonderful, the work of Allah; wholly "a sign to you," if your eyes were + open! This Earth, God made it for you; "appointed paths in it;" you can + live in it, go to and fro on it.—The clouds in the dry country of + Arabia, to Mahomet they are very wonderful: Great clouds, he says, born in + the deep bosom of the Upper Immensity, where do they come from! They hang + there, the great black monsters; pour down their rain-deluges "to revive a + dead earth," and grass springs, and "tall leafy palm-trees with their + date-clusters hanging round. Is not that a sign?" Your cattle too,—Allah + made them; serviceable dumb creatures; they change the grass into milk; + you have your clothing from them, very strange creatures; they come + ranking home at evening-time, "and," adds he, "and are a credit to you!" + Ships also,—he talks often about ships: Huge moving mountains, they + spread out their cloth wings, go bounding through the water there, + Heaven's wind driving them; anon they lie motionless, God has withdrawn + the wind, they lie dead, and cannot stir! Miracles? cries he: What miracle + would you have? Are not you yourselves there? God made you, "shaped you + out of a little clay." Ye were small once; a few years ago ye were not at + all. Ye have beauty, strength, thoughts, "ye have compassion on one + another." Old age comes on you, and gray hairs; your strength fades into + feebleness; ye sink down, and again are not. "Ye have compassion on one + another:" this struck me much: Allah might have made you having no + compassion on one another,—how had it been then! This is a great + direct thought, a glance at first-hand into the very fact of things. Rude + vestiges of poetic genius, of whatsoever is best and truest, are visible + in this man. A strong untutored intellect; eyesight, heart: a strong wild + man,—might have shaped himself into Poet, King, Priest, any kind of + Hero. + </p> + <p> + To his eyes it is forever clear that this world wholly is miraculous. He + sees what, as we said once before, all great thinkers, the rude + Scandinavians themselves, in one way or other, have contrived to see: That + this so solid-looking material world is, at bottom, in very deed, Nothing; + is a visual and factual Manifestation of God's power and presence,—a + shadow hung out by Him on the bosom of the void Infinite; nothing more. + The mountains, he says, these great rock-mountains, they shall dissipate + themselves "like clouds;" melt into the Blue as clouds do, and not be! He + figures the Earth, in the Arab fashion, Sale tells us, as an immense Plain + or flat Plate of ground, the mountains are set on that to <i>steady</i> + it. At the Last Day they shall disappear "like clouds;" the whole Earth + shall go spinning, whirl itself off into wreck, and as dust and vapor + vanish in the Inane. Allah withdraws his hand from it, and it ceases to + be. The universal empire of Allah, presence everywhere of an unspeakable + Power, a Splendor, and a Terror not to be named, as the true force, + essence and reality, in all things whatsoever, was continually clear to + this man. What a modern talks of by the name, Forces of Nature, Laws of + Nature; and does not figure as a divine thing; not even as one thing at + all, but as a set of things, undivine enough,—salable, curious, good + for propelling steamships! With our Sciences and Cyclopaedias, we are apt + to forget the <i>divineness</i>, in those laboratories of ours. We ought + not to forget it! That once well forgotten, I know not what else were + worth remembering. Most sciences, I think were then a very dead thing; + withered, contentious, empty;—a thistle in late autumn. The best + science, without this, is but as the dead <i>timber</i>; it is not the + growing tree and forest,—which gives ever-new timber, among other + things! Man cannot <i>know</i> either, unless he can <i>worship</i> in + some way. His knowledge is a pedantry, and dead thistle, otherwise. + </p> + <p> + Much has been said and written about the sensuality of Mahomet's Religion; + more than was just. The indulgences, criminal to us, which he permitted, + were not of his appointment; he found them practiced, unquestioned from + immemorial time in Arabia; what he did was to curtail them, restrict them, + not on one but on many sides. His Religion is not an easy one: with + rigorous fasts, lavations, strict complex formulas, prayers five times a + day, and abstinence from wine, it did not "succeed by being an easy + religion." As if indeed any religion, or cause holding of religion, could + succeed by that! It is a calumny on men to say that they are roused to + heroic action by ease, hope of pleasure, recompense,—sugar-plums of + any kind, in this world or the next! In the meanest mortal there lies + something nobler. The poor swearing soldier, hired to be shot, has his + "honor of a soldier," different from drill-regulations and the shilling a + day. It is not to taste sweet things, but to do noble and true things, and + vindicate himself under God's Heaven as a god-made Man, that the poorest + son of Adam dimly longs. Show him the way of doing that, the dullest + day-drudge kindles into a hero. They wrong man greatly who say he is to be + seduced by ease. Difficulty, abnegation, martyrdom, death are the <i>allurements</i> + that act on the heart of man. Kindle the inner genial life of him, you + have a flame that burns up all lower considerations. Not happiness, but + something higher: one sees this even in the frivolous classes, with their + "point of honor" and the like. Not by flattering our appetites; no, by + awakening the Heroic that slumbers in every heart, can any Religion gain + followers. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet himself, after all that can be said about him, was not a sensual + man. We shall err widely if we consider this man as a common voluptuary, + intent mainly on base enjoyments,—nay on enjoyments of any kind. His + household was of the frugalest; his common diet barley-bread and water: + sometimes for months there was not a fire once lighted on his hearth. They + record with just pride that he would mend his own shoes, patch his own + cloak. A poor, hard-toiling, ill-provided man; careless of what vulgar men + toil for. Not a bad man, I should say; something better in him than <i>hunger</i> + of any sort,—or these wild Arab men, fighting and jostling + three-and-twenty years at his hand, in close contact with him always, + would not have reverenced him so! They were wild men, bursting ever and + anon into quarrel, into all kinds of fierce sincerity; without right worth + and manhood, no man could have commanded them. They called him Prophet, + you say? Why, he stood there face to face with them; bare, not enshrined + in any mystery; visibly clouting his own cloak, cobbling his own shoes; + fighting, counselling, ordering in the midst of them: they must have seen + what kind of a man he <i>was</i>, let him be <i>called</i> what you like! + No emperor with his tiaras was obeyed as this man in a cloak of his own + clouting. During three-and-twenty years of rough actual trial. I find + something of a veritable Hero necessary for that, of itself. + </p> + <p> + His last words are a prayer; broken ejaculations of a heart struggling up, + in trembling hope, towards its Maker. We cannot say that his religion made + him <i>worse</i>; it made him better; good, not bad. Generous things are + recorded of him: when he lost his Daughter, the thing he answers is, in + his own dialect, every way sincere, and yet equivalent to that of + Christians, "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the + name of the Lord." He answered in like manner of Seid, his emancipated + well-beloved Slave, the second of the believers. Seid had fallen in the + War of Tabuc, the first of Mahomet's fightings with the Greeks. Mahomet + said, It was well; Seid had done his Master's work, Seid had now gone to + his Master: it was all well with Seid. Yet Seid's daughter found him + weeping over the body;—the old gray-haired man melting in tears! + "What do I see?" said she.—"You see a friend weeping over his + friend."—He went out for the last time into the mosque, two days + before his death; asked, If he had injured any man? Let his own back bear + the stripes. If he owed any man? A voice answered, "Yes, me three + drachms," borrowed on such an occasion. Mahomet ordered them to be paid: + "Better be in shame now," said he, "than at the Day of Judgment."—You + remember Kadijah, and the "No, by Allah!" Traits of that kind show us the + genuine man, the brother of us all, brought visible through twelve + centuries,—the veritable Son of our common Mother. + </p> + <p> + Withal I like Mahomet for his total freedom from cant. He is a rough + self-helping son of the wilderness; does not pretend to be what he is not. + There is no ostentatious pride in him; but neither does he go much upon + humility: he is there as he can be, in cloak and shoes of his own + clouting; speaks plainly to all manner of Persian Kings, Greek Emperors, + what it is they are bound to do; knows well enough, about himself, "the + respect due unto thee." In a life-and-death war with Bedouins, cruel + things could not fail; but neither are acts of mercy, of noble natural + pity and generosity wanting. Mahomet makes no apology for the one, no + boast of the other. They were each the free dictate of his heart; each + called for, there and then. Not a mealy-mouthed man! A candid ferocity, if + the case call for it, is in him; he does not mince matters! The War of + Tabuc is a thing he often speaks of: his men refused, many of them, to + march on that occasion; pleaded the heat of the weather, the harvest, and + so forth; he can never forget that. Your harvest? It lasts for a day. What + will become of your harvest through all Eternity? Hot weather? Yes, it was + hot; "but Hell will be hotter!" Sometimes a rough sarcasm turns up: He + says to the unbelievers, Ye shall have the just measure of your deeds at + that Great Day. They will be weighed out to you; ye shall not have short + weight!—Everywhere he fixes the matter in his eye; he <i>sees</i> + it: his heart, now and then, is as if struck dumb by the greatness of it. + "Assuredly," he says: that word, in the Koran, is written down sometimes + as a sentence by itself: "Assuredly." + </p> + <p> + No <i>Dilettantism</i> in this Mahomet; it is a business of Reprobation + and Salvation with him, of Time and Eternity: he is in deadly earnest + about it! Dilettantism, hypothesis, speculation, a kind of amateur-search + for Truth, toying and coquetting with Truth: this is the sorest sin. The + root of all other imaginable sins. It consists in the heart and soul of + the man never having been <i>open</i> to Truth;—"living in a vain + show." Such a man not only utters and produces falsehoods, but is himself + a falsehood. The rational moral principle, spark of the Divinity, is sunk + deep in him, in quiet paralysis of life-death. The very falsehoods of + Mahomet are truer than the truths of such a man. He is the insincere man: + smooth-polished, respectable in some times and places; inoffensive, says + nothing harsh to anybody; most <i>cleanly</i>,—just as carbonic acid + is, which is death and poison. + </p> + <p> + We will not praise Mahomet's moral precepts as always of the superfinest + sort; yet it can be said that there is always a tendency to good in them; + that they are the true dictates of a heart aiming towards what is just and + true. The sublime forgiveness of Christianity, turning of the other cheek + when the one has been smitten, is not here: you <i>are</i> to revenge + yourself, but it is to be in measure, not overmuch, or beyond justice. On + the other hand, Islam, like any great Faith, and insight into the essence + of man, is a perfect equalizer of men: the soul of one believer outweighs + all earthly kingships; all men, according to Islam too, are equal. Mahomet + insists not on the propriety of giving alms, but on the necessity of it: + he marks down by law how much you are to give, and it is at your peril if + you neglect. The tenth part of a man's annual income, whatever that may + be, is the <i>property</i> of the poor, of those that are afflicted and + need help. Good all this: the natural voice of humanity, of pity and + equity dwelling in the heart of this wild Son of Nature speaks <i>so</i>. + </p> + <p> + Mahomet's Paradise is sensual, his Hell sensual: true; in the one and the + other there is enough that shocks all spiritual feeling in us. But we are + to recollect that the Arabs already had it so; that Mahomet, in whatever + he changed of it, softened and diminished all this. The worst + sensualities, too, are the work of doctors, followers of his, not his + work. In the Koran there is really very little said about the joys of + Paradise; they are intimated rather than insisted on. Nor is it forgotten + that the highest joys even there shall be spiritual; the pure Presence of + the Highest, this shall infinitely transcend all other joys. He says, + "Your salutation shall be, Peace." <i>Salam</i>, Have Peace!—the + thing that all rational souls long for, and seek, vainly here below, as + the one blessing. "Ye shall sit on seats, facing one another: all grudges + shall be taken away out of your hearts." All grudges! Ye shall love one + another freely; for each of you, in the eyes of his brothers, there will + be Heaven enough! + </p> + <p> + In reference to this of the sensual Paradise and Mahomet's sensuality, the + sorest chapter of all for us, there were many things to be said; which it + is not convenient to enter upon here. Two remarks only I shall make, and + therewith leave it to your candor. The first is furnished me by Goethe; it + is a casual hint of his which seems well worth taking note of. In one of + his Delineations, in <i>Meister's Travels</i> it is, the hero comes upon a + Society of men with very strange ways, one of which was this: "We + require," says the Master, "that each of our people shall restrict himself + in one direction," shall go right against his desire in one matter, and <i>make</i> + himself do the thing he does not wish, "should we allow him the greater + latitude on all other sides." There seems to me a great justness in this. + Enjoying things which are pleasant; that is not the evil: it is the + reducing of our moral self to slavery by them that is. Let a man assert + withal that he is king over his habitudes; that he could and would shake + them off, on cause shown: this is an excellent law. The Month Ramadhan for + the Moslem, much in Mahomet's Religion, much in his own Life, bears in + that direction; if not by forethought, or clear purpose of moral + improvement on his part, then by a certain healthy manful instinct, which + is as good. + </p> + <p> + But there is another thing to be said about the Mahometan Heaven and Hell. + This namely, that, however gross and material they may be, they are an + emblem of an everlasting truth, not always so well remembered elsewhere. + That gross sensual Paradise of his; that horrible flaming Hell; the great + enormous Day of Judgment he perpetually insists on: what is all this but a + rude shadow, in the rude Bedouin imagination, of that grand spiritual + Fact, and Beginning of Facts, which it is ill for us too if we do not all + know and feel: the Infinite Nature of Duty? That man's actions here are of + <i>infinite</i> moment to him, and never die or end at all; that man, with + his little life, reaches upwards high as Heaven, downwards low as Hell, + and in his threescore years of Time holds an Eternity fearfully and + wonderfully hidden: all this had burnt itself, as in flame-characters, + into the wild Arab soul. As in flame and lightning, it stands written + there; awful, unspeakable, ever present to him. With bursting earnestness, + with a fierce savage sincerity, half-articulating, not able to articulate, + he strives to speak it, bodies it forth in that Heaven and that Hell. + Bodied forth in what way you will, it is the first of all truths. It is + venerable under all embodiments. What is the chief end of man here below? + Mahomet has answered this question, in a way that might put some of us to + shame! He does not, like a Bentham, a Paley, take Right and Wrong, and + calculate the profit and loss, ultimate pleasure of the one and of the + other; and summing all up by addition and subtraction into a net result, + ask you, Whether on the whole the Right does not preponderate + considerably? No; it is not <i>better</i> to do the one than the other; + the one is to the other as life is to death,—as Heaven is to Hell. + The one must in nowise be done, the other in nowise left undone. You shall + not measure them; they are incommensurable: the one is death eternal to a + man, the other is life eternal. Benthamee Utility, virtue by Profit and + Loss; reducing this God's-world to a dead brute Steam-engine, the infinite + celestial Soul of Man to a kind of Hay-balance for weighing hay and + thistles on, pleasures and pains on:—If you ask me which gives, + Mahomet or they, the beggarlier and falser view of Man and his Destinies + in this Universe, I will answer, it is not Mahomet—! + </p> + <p> + On the whole, we will repeat that this Religion of Mahomet's is a kind of + Christianity; has a genuine element of what is spiritually highest looking + through it, not to be hidden by all its imperfections. The Scandinavian + God <i>Wish</i>, the god of all rude men,—this has been enlarged + into a Heaven by Mahomet; but a Heaven symbolical of sacred Duty, and to + be earned by faith and well-doing, by valiant action, and a divine + patience which is still more valiant. It is Scandinavian Paganism, and a + truly celestial element superadded to that. Call it not false; look not at + the falsehood of it, look at the truth of it. For these twelve centuries, + it has been the religion and life-guidance of the fifth part of the whole + kindred of Mankind. Above all things, it has been a religion heartily <i>believed</i>. + These Arabs believe their religion, and try to live by it! No Christians, + since the early ages, or only perhaps the English Puritans in modern + times, have ever stood by their Faith as the Moslem do by theirs,—believing + it wholly, fronting Time with it, and Eternity with it. This night the + watchman on the streets of Cairo when he cries, "Who goes?" will hear from + the passenger, along with his answer, "There is no God but God." <i>Allah + akbar</i>, <i>Islam</i>, sounds through the souls, and whole daily + existence, of these dusky millions. Zealous missionaries preach it abroad + among Malays, black Papuans, brutal Idolaters;—displacing what is + worse, nothing that is better or good. + </p> + <p> + To the Arab Nation it was as a birth from darkness into light; Arabia + first became alive by means of it. A poor shepherd people, roaming + unnoticed in its deserts since the creation of the world: a Hero-Prophet + was sent down to them with a word they could believe: see, the unnoticed + becomes world-notable, the small has grown world-great; within one century + afterwards, Arabia is at Grenada on this hand, at Delhi on that;—glancing + in valor and splendor and the light of genius, Arabia shines through long + ages over a great section of the world. Belief is great, life-giving. The + history of a Nation becomes fruitful, soul-elevating, great, so soon as it + believes. These Arabs, the man Mahomet, and that one century,—is it + not as if a spark had fallen, one spark, on a world of what seemed black + unnoticeable sand; but lo, the sand proves explosive powder, blazes + heaven-high from Delhi to Grenada! I said, the Great Man was always as + lightning out of Heaven; the rest of men waited for him like fuel, and + then they too would flame. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LECTURE III. THE HERO AS POET. DANTE: SHAKSPEARE. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 12, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + The Hero as Divinity, the Hero as Prophet, are productions of old ages; + not to be repeated in the new. They presuppose a certain rudeness of + conception, which the progress of mere scientific knowledge puts an end + to. There needs to be, as it were, a world vacant, or almost vacant of + scientific forms, if men in their loving wonder are to fancy their + fellow-man either a god or one speaking with the voice of a god. Divinity + and Prophet are past. We are now to see our Hero in the less ambitious, + but also less questionable, character of Poet; a character which does not + pass. The Poet is a heroic figure belonging to all ages; whom all ages + possess, when once he is produced, whom the newest age as the oldest may + produce;—and will produce, always when Nature pleases. Let Nature + send a Hero-soul; in no age is it other than possible that he may be + shaped into a Poet. + </p> + <p> + Hero, Prophet, Poet,—many different names, in different times, and + places, do we give to Great Men; according to varieties we note in them, + according to the sphere in which they have displayed themselves! We might + give many more names, on this same principle. I will remark again, + however, as a fact not unimportant to be understood, that the different <i>sphere</i> + constitutes the grand origin of such distinction; that the Hero can be + Poet, Prophet, King, Priest or what you will, according to the kind of + world he finds himself born into. I confess, I have no notion of a truly + great man that could not be <i>all</i> sorts of men. The Poet who could + merely sit on a chair, and compose stanzas, would never make a stanza + worth much. He could not sing the Heroic warrior, unless he himself were + at least a Heroic warrior too. I fancy there is in him the Politician, the + Thinker, Legislator, Philosopher;—in one or the other degree, he + could have been, he is all these. So too I cannot understand how a + Mirabeau, with that great glowing heart, with the fire that was in it, + with the bursting tears that were in it, could not have written verses, + tragedies, poems, and touched all hearts in that way, had his course of + life and education led him thitherward. The grand fundamental character is + that of Great Man; that the man be great. Napoleon has words in him which + are like Austerlitz Battles. Louis Fourteenth's Marshals are a kind of + poetical men withal; the things Turenne says are full of sagacity and + geniality, like sayings of Samuel Johnson. The great heart, the clear + deep-seeing eye: there it lies; no man whatever, in what province soever, + can prosper at all without these. Petrarch and Boccaccio did diplomatic + messages, it seems, quite well: one can easily believe it; they had done + things a little harder than these! Burns, a gifted song-writer, might have + made a still better Mirabeau. Shakspeare,—one knows not what <i>he</i> + could not have made, in the supreme degree. + </p> + <p> + True, there are aptitudes of Nature too. Nature does not make all great + men, more than all other men, in the self-same mould. Varieties of + aptitude doubtless; but infinitely more of circumstance; and far oftenest + it is the <i>latter</i> only that are looked to. But it is as with common + men in the learning of trades. You take any man, as yet a vague capability + of a man, who could be any kind of craftsman; and make him into a smith, a + carpenter, a mason: he is then and thenceforth that and nothing else. And + if, as Addison complains, you sometimes see a street-porter, staggering + under his load on spindle-shanks, and near at hand a tailor with the frame + of a Samson handling a bit of cloth and small Whitechapel needle,—it + cannot be considered that aptitude of Nature alone has been consulted here + either!—The Great Man also, to what shall he be bound apprentice? + Given your Hero, is he to become Conqueror, King, Philosopher, Poet? It is + an inexplicably complex controversial-calculation between the world and + him! He will read the world and its laws; the world with its laws will be + there to be read. What the world, on <i>this</i> matter, shall permit and + bid is, as we said, the most important fact about the world.— + </p> + <p> + Poet and Prophet differ greatly in our loose modern notions of them. In + some old languages, again, the titles are synonymous; <i>Vates</i> means + both Prophet and Poet: and indeed at all times, Prophet and Poet, well + understood, have much kindred of meaning. Fundamentally indeed they are + still the same; in this most important respect especially, That they have + penetrated both of them into the sacred mystery of the Universe; what + Goethe calls "the open secret." "Which is the great secret?" asks one.—"The + <i>open</i> secret,"—open to all, seen by almost none! That divine + mystery, which lies everywhere in all Beings, "the Divine Idea of the + World, that which lies at the bottom of Appearance," as Fichte styles it; + of which all Appearance, from the starry sky to the grass of the field, + but especially the Appearance of Man and his work, is but the <i>vesture</i>, + the embodiment that renders it visible. This divine mystery <i>is</i> in + all times and in all places; veritably is. In most times and places it is + greatly overlooked; and the Universe, definable always in one or the other + dialect, as the realized Thought of God, is considered a trivial, inert, + commonplace matter,—as if, says the Satirist, it were a dead thing, + which some upholsterer had put together! It could do no good, at present, + to <i>speak</i> much about this; but it is a pity for every one of us if + we do not know it, live ever in the knowledge of it. Really a most + mournful pity;—a failure to live at all, if we live otherwise! + </p> + <p> + But now, I say, whoever may forget this divine mystery, the <i>Vates</i>, + whether Prophet or Poet, has penetrated into it; is a man sent hither to + make it more impressively known to us. That always is his message; he is + to reveal that to us,—that sacred mystery which he more than others + lives ever present with. While others forget it, he knows it;—I + might say, he has been driven to know it; without consent asked of him, he + finds himself living in it, bound to live in it. Once more, here is no + Hearsay, but a direct Insight and Belief; this man too could not help + being a sincere man! Whosoever may live in the shows of things, it is for + him a necessity of nature to live in the very fact of things. A man once + more, in earnest with the Universe, though all others were but toying with + it. He is a <i>Vates</i>, first of all, in virtue of being sincere. So far + Poet and Prophet, participators in the "open secret," are one. + </p> + <p> + With respect to their distinction again: The <i>Vates</i> Prophet, we + might say, has seized that sacred mystery rather on the moral side, as + Good and Evil, Duty and Prohibition; the <i>Vates</i> Poet on what the + Germans call the aesthetic side, as Beautiful, and the like. The one we + may call a revealer of what we are to do, the other of what we are to + love. But indeed these two provinces run into one another, and cannot be + disjoined. The Prophet too has his eye on what we are to love: how else + shall he know what it is we are to do? The highest Voice ever heard on + this earth said withal, "Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not, + neither do they spin: yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like + one of these." A glance, that, into the deepest deep of Beauty. "The + lilies of the field,"—dressed finer than earthly princes, springing + up there in the humble furrow-field; a beautiful <i>eye</i> looking out on + you, from the great inner Sea of Beauty! How could the rude Earth make + these, if her Essence, rugged as she looks and is, were not inwardly + Beauty? In this point of view, too, a saying of Goethe's, which has + staggered several, may have meaning: "The Beautiful," he intimates, "is + higher than the Good; the Beautiful includes in it the Good." The <i>true</i> + Beautiful; which however, I have said somewhere, "differs from the <i>false</i> + as Heaven does from Vauxhall!" So much for the distinction and identity of + Poet and Prophet.— + </p> + <p> + In ancient and also in modern periods we find a few Poets who are + accounted perfect; whom it were a kind of treason to find fault with. This + is noteworthy; this is right: yet in strictness it is only an illusion. At + bottom, clearly enough, there is no perfect Poet! A vein of Poetry exists + in the hearts of all men; no man is made altogether of Poetry. We are all + poets when we <i>read</i> a poem well. The "imagination that shudders at + the Hell of Dante," is not that the same faculty, weaker in degree, as + Dante's own? No one but Shakspeare can embody, out of <i>Saxo Grammaticus</i>, + the story of <i>Hamlet</i> as Shakspeare did: but every one models some + kind of story out of it; every one embodies it better or worse. We need + not spend time in defining. Where there is no specific difference, as + between round and square, all definition must be more or less arbitrary. A + man that has <i>so</i> much more of the poetic element developed in him as + to have become noticeable, will be called Poet by his neighbors. + World-Poets too, those whom we are to take for perfect Poets, are settled + by critics in the same way. One who rises <i>so</i> far above the general + level of Poets will, to such and such critics, seem a Universal Poet; as + he ought to do. And yet it is, and must be, an arbitrary distinction. All + Poets, all men, have some touches of the Universal; no man is wholly made + of that. Most Poets are very soon forgotten: but not the noblest + Shakspeare or Homer of them can be remembered <i>forever</i>;—a day + comes when he too is not! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, you will say, there must be a difference between true Poetry + and true Speech not poetical: what is the difference? On this point many + things have been written, especially by late German Critics, some of which + are not very intelligible at first. They say, for example, that the Poet + has an <i>infinitude</i> in him; communicates an <i>Unendlichkeit</i>, a + certain character of "infinitude," to whatsoever he delineates. This, + though not very precise, yet on so vague a matter is worth remembering: if + well meditated, some meaning will gradually be found in it. For my own + part, I find considerable meaning in the old vulgar distinction of Poetry + being <i>metrical</i>, having music in it, being a Song. Truly, if pressed + to give a definition, one might say this as soon as anything else: If your + delineation be authentically <i>musical</i>, musical not in word only, but + in heart and substance, in all the thoughts and utterances of it, in the + whole conception of it, then it will be poetical; if not, not.—Musical: + how much lies in that! A <i>musical</i> thought is one spoken by a mind + that has penetrated into the inmost heart of the thing; detected the + inmost mystery of it, namely the <i>melody</i> that lies hidden in it; the + inward harmony of coherence which is its soul, whereby it exists, and has + a right to be, here in this world. All inmost things, we may say, are + melodious; naturally utter themselves in Song. The meaning of Song goes + deep. Who is there that, in logical words, can express the effect music + has on us? A kind of inarticulate unfathomable speech, which leads us to + the edge of the Infinite, and lets us for moments gaze into that! + </p> + <p> + Nay all speech, even the commonest speech, has something of song in it: + not a parish in the world but has its parish-accent;—the rhythm or + <i>tune</i> to which the people there <i>sing</i> what they have to say! + Accent is a kind of chanting; all men have accent of their own,—though + they only <i>notice</i> that of others. Observe too how all passionate + language does of itself become musical,—with a finer music than the + mere accent; the speech of a man even in zealous anger becomes a chant, a + song. All deep things are Song. It seems somehow the very central essence + of us, Song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls! The primal + element of us; of us, and of all things. The Greeks fabled of + Sphere-Harmonies: it was the feeling they had of the inner structure of + Nature; that the soul of all her voices and utterances was perfect music. + Poetry, therefore, we will call <i>musical Thought</i>. The Poet is he who + <i>thinks</i> in that manner. At bottom, it turns still on power of + intellect; it is a man's sincerity and depth of vision that makes him a + Poet. See deep enough, and you see musically; the heart of Nature <i>being</i> + everywhere music, if you can only reach it. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Vates</i> Poet, with his melodious Apocalypse of Nature, seems to + hold a poor rank among us, in comparison with the <i>Vates</i> Prophet; + his function, and our esteem of him for his function, alike slight. The + Hero taken as Divinity; the Hero taken as Prophet; then next the Hero + taken only as Poet: does it not look as if our estimate of the Great Man, + epoch after epoch, were continually diminishing? We take him first for a + god, then for one god-inspired; and now in the next stage of it, his most + miraculous word gains from us only the recognition that he is a Poet, + beautiful verse-maker, man of genius, or such like!—It looks so; but + I persuade myself that intrinsically it is not so. If we consider well, it + will perhaps appear that in man still there is the <i>same</i> altogether + peculiar admiration for the Heroic Gift, by what name soever called, that + there at any time was. + </p> + <p> + I should say, if we do not now reckon a Great Man literally divine, it is + that our notions of God, of the supreme unattainable Fountain of Splendor, + Wisdom and Heroism, are ever rising <i>higher</i>; not altogether that our + reverence for these qualities, as manifested in our like, is getting + lower. This is worth taking thought of. Sceptical Dilettantism, the curse + of these ages, a curse which will not last forever, does indeed in this + the highest province of human things, as in all provinces, make sad work; + and our reverence for great men, all crippled, blinded, paralytic as it + is, comes out in poor plight, hardly recognizable. Men worship the shows + of great men; the most disbelieve that there is any reality of great men + to worship. The dreariest, fatalest faith; believing which, one would + literally despair of human things. Nevertheless look, for example, at + Napoleon! A Corsican lieutenant of artillery; that is the show of <i>him</i>: + yet is he not obeyed, worshipped after his sort, as all the Tiaraed and + Diademed of the world put together could not be? High Duchesses, and + ostlers of inns, gather round the Scottish rustic, Burns;—a strange + feeling dwelling in each that they never heard a man like this; that, on + the whole, this is the man! In the secret heart of these people it still + dimly reveals itself, though there is no accredited way of uttering it at + present, that this rustic, with his black brows and flashing sun-eyes, and + strange words moving laughter and tears, is of a dignity far beyond all + others, incommensurable with all others. Do not we feel it so? But now, + were Dilettantism, Scepticism, Triviality, and all that sorrowful brood, + cast out of us,—as, by God's blessing, they shall one day be; were + faith in the shows of things entirely swept out, replaced by clear faith + in the <i>things</i>, so that a man acted on the impulse of that only, and + counted the other non-extant; what a new livelier feeling towards this + Burns were it! + </p> + <p> + Nay here in these ages, such as they are, have we not two mere Poets, if + not deified, yet we may say beatified? Shakspeare and Dante are Saints of + Poetry; really, if we will think of it, <i>canonized</i>, so that it is + impiety to meddle with them. The unguided instinct of the world, working + across all these perverse impediments, has arrived at such result. Dante + and Shakspeare are a peculiar Two. They dwell apart, in a kind of royal + solitude; none equal, none second to them: in the general feeling of the + world, a certain transcendentalism, a glory as of complete perfection, + invests these two. They <i>are</i> canonized, though no Pope or Cardinals + took hand in doing it! Such, in spite of every perverting influence, in + the most unheroic times, is still our indestructible reverence for + heroism.—We will look a little at these Two, the Poet Dante and the + Poet Shakspeare: what little it is permitted us to say here of the Hero as + Poet will most fitly arrange itself in that fashion. + </p> + <p> + Many volumes have been written by way of commentary on Dante and his Book; + yet, on the whole, with no great result. His Biography is, as it were, + irrecoverably lost for us. An unimportant, wandering, sorrow-stricken man, + not much note was taken of him while he lived; and the most of that has + vanished, in the long space that now intervenes. It is five centuries + since he ceased writing and living here. After all commentaries, the Book + itself is mainly what we know of him. The Book;—and one might add + that Portrait commonly attributed to Giotto, which, looking on it, you + cannot help inclining to think genuine, whoever did it. To me it is a most + touching face; perhaps of all faces that I know, the most so. Lonely + there, painted as on vacancy, with the simple laurel wound round it; the + deathless sorrow and pain, the known victory which is also deathless;—significant + of the whole history of Dante! I think it is the mournfulest face that + ever was painted from reality; an altogether tragic, heart-affecting face. + There is in it, as foundation of it, the softness, tenderness, gentle + affection as of a child; but all this is as if congealed into sharp + contradiction, into abnegation, isolation, proud hopeless pain. A soft + ethereal soul looking out so stern, implacable, grim-trenchant, as from + imprisonment of thick-ribbed ice! Withal it is a silent pain too, a silent + scornful one: the lip is curled in a kind of godlike disdain of the thing + that is eating out his heart,—as if it were withal a mean + insignificant thing, as if he whom it had power to torture and strangle + were greater than it. The face of one wholly in protest, and lifelong + unsurrendering battle, against the world. Affection all converted into + indignation: an implacable indignation; slow, equable, silent, like that + of a god! The eye too, it looks out as in a kind of <i>surprise</i>, a + kind of inquiry, Why the world was of such a sort? This is Dante: so he + looks, this "voice of ten silent centuries," and sings us "his mystic + unfathomable song." + </p> + <p> + The little that we know of Dante's Life corresponds well enough with this + Portrait and this Book. He was born at Florence, in the upper class of + society, in the year 1265. His education was the best then going; much + school-divinity, Aristotelean logic, some Latin classics,—no + inconsiderable insight into certain provinces of things: and Dante, with + his earnest intelligent nature, we need not doubt, learned better than + most all that was learnable. He has a clear cultivated understanding, and + of great subtlety; this best fruit of education he had contrived to + realize from these scholastics. He knows accurately and well what lies + close to him; but, in such a time, without printed books or free + intercourse, he could not know well what was distant: the small clear + light, most luminous for what is near, breaks itself into singular <i>chiaroscuro</i> + striking on what is far off. This was Dante's learning from the schools. + In life, he had gone through the usual destinies; been twice out + campaigning as a soldier for the Florentine State, been on embassy; had in + his thirty-fifth year, by natural gradation of talent and service, become + one of the Chief Magistrates of Florence. He had met in boyhood a certain + Beatrice Portinari, a beautiful little girl of his own age and rank, and + grown up thenceforth in partial sight of her, in some distant intercourse + with her. All readers know his graceful affecting account of this; and + then of their being parted; of her being wedded to another, and of her + death soon after. She makes a great figure in Dante's Poem; seems to have + made a great figure in his life. Of all beings it might seem as if she, + held apart from him, far apart at last in the dim Eternity, were the only + one he had ever with his whole strength of affection loved. She died: + Dante himself was wedded; but it seems not happily, far from happily. I + fancy, the rigorous earnest man, with his keen excitabilities, was not + altogether easy to make happy. + </p> + <p> + We will not complain of Dante's miseries: had all gone right with him as + he wished it, he might have been Prior, Podesta, or whatsoever they call + it, of Florence, well accepted among neighbors,—and the world had + wanted one of the most notable words ever spoken or sung. Florence would + have had another prosperous Lord Mayor; and the ten dumb centuries + continued voiceless, and the ten other listening centuries (for there will + be ten of them and more) had no <i>Divina Commedia</i> to hear! We will + complain of nothing. A nobler destiny was appointed for this Dante; and + he, struggling like a man led towards death and crucifixion, could not + help fulfilling it. Give <i>him</i> the choice of his happiness! He knew + not, more than we do, what was really happy, what was really miserable. + </p> + <p> + In Dante's Priorship, the Guelf-Ghibelline, Bianchi-Neri, or some other + confused disturbances rose to such a height, that Dante, whose party had + seemed the stronger, was with his friends cast unexpectedly forth into + banishment; doomed thenceforth to a life of woe and wandering. His + property was all confiscated and more; he had the fiercest feeling that it + was entirely unjust, nefarious in the sight of God and man. He tried what + was in him to get reinstated; tried even by warlike surprisal, with arms + in his hand: but it would not do; bad only had become worse. There is a + record, I believe, still extant in the Florence Archives, dooming this + Dante, wheresoever caught, to be burnt alive. Burnt alive; so it stands, + they say: a very curious civic document. Another curious document, some + considerable number of years later, is a Letter of Dante's to the + Florentine Magistrates, written in answer to a milder proposal of theirs, + that he should return on condition of apologizing and paying a fine. He + answers, with fixed stern pride: "If I cannot return without calling + myself guilty, I will never return, <i>nunquam revertar</i>." + </p> + <p> + For Dante there was now no home in this world. He wandered from patron to + patron, from place to place; proving, in his own bitter words, "How hard + is the path, <i>Come e duro calle</i>." The wretched are not cheerful + company. Dante, poor and banished, with his proud earnest nature, with his + moody humors, was not a man to conciliate men. Petrarch reports of him + that being at Can della Scala's court, and blamed one day for his gloom + and taciturnity, he answered in no courtier-like way. Della Scala stood + among his courtiers, with mimes and buffoons (<i>nebulones ac histriones</i>) + making him heartily merry; when turning to Dante, he said: "Is it not + strange, now, that this poor fool should make himself so entertaining; + while you, a wise man, sit there day after day, and have nothing to amuse + us with at all?" Dante answered bitterly: "No, not strange; your Highness + is to recollect the Proverb, <i>Like to Like</i>;"—given the amuser, + the amusee must also be given! Such a man, with his proud silent ways, + with his sarcasms and sorrows, was not made to succeed at court. By + degrees, it came to be evident to him that he had no longer any + resting-place, or hope of benefit, in this earth. The earthly world had + cast him forth, to wander, wander; no living heart to love him now; for + his sore miseries there was no solace here. + </p> + <p> + The deeper naturally would the Eternal World impress itself on him; that + awful reality over which, after all, this Time-world, with its Florences + and banishments, only flutters as an unreal shadow. Florence thou shalt + never see: but Hell and Purgatory and Heaven thou shalt surely see! What + is Florence, Can della Scala, and the World and Life altogether? ETERNITY: + thither, of a truth, not elsewhither, art thou and all things bound! The + great soul of Dante, homeless on earth, made its home more and more in + that awful other world. Naturally his thoughts brooded on that, as on the + one fact important for him. Bodied or bodiless, it is the one fact + important for all men:—but to Dante, in that age, it was bodied in + fixed certainty of scientific shape; he no more doubted of that <i>Malebolge</i> + Pool, that it all lay there with its gloomy circles, with its <i>alti guai</i>, + and that he himself should see it, than we doubt that we should see + Constantinople if we went thither. Dante's heart, long filled with this, + brooding over it in speechless thought and awe, bursts forth at length + into "mystic unfathomable song;" and this his <i>Divine Comedy</i>, the + most remarkable of all modern Books, is the result. + </p> + <p> + It must have been a great solacement to Dante, and was, as we can see, a + proud thought for him at times, That he, here in exile, could do this + work; that no Florence, nor no man or men, could hinder him from doing it, + or even much help him in doing it. He knew too, partly, that it was great; + the greatest a man could do. "If thou follow thy star, <i>Se tu segui tua + stella</i>,"—so could the Hero, in his forsakenness, in his extreme + need, still say to himself: "Follow thou thy star, thou shalt not fail of + a glorious haven!" The labor of writing, we find, and indeed could know + otherwise, was great and painful for him; he says, This Book, "which has + made me lean for many years." Ah yes, it was won, all of it, with pain and + sore toil,—not in sport, but in grim earnest. His Book, as indeed + most good Books are, has been written, in many senses, with his heart's + blood. It is his whole history, this Book. He died after finishing it; not + yet very old, at the age of fifty-six;—broken-hearted rather, as is + said. He lies buried in his death-city Ravenna: <i>Hic claudor Dantes + patriis extorris ab oris</i>. The Florentines begged back his body, in a + century after; the Ravenna people would not give it. "Here am I Dante + laid, shut out from my native shores." + </p> + <p> + I said, Dante's Poem was a Song: it is Tieck who calls it "a mystic + unfathomable Song;" and such is literally the character of it. Coleridge + remarks very pertinently somewhere, that wherever you find a sentence + musically worded, of true rhythm and melody in the words, there is + something deep and good in the meaning too. For body and soul, word and + idea, go strangely together here as everywhere. Song: we said before, it + was the Heroic of Speech! All <i>old</i> Poems, Homer's and the rest, are + authentically Songs. I would say, in strictness, that all right Poems are; + that whatsoever is not <i>sung</i> is properly no Poem, but a piece of + Prose cramped into jingling lines,—to the great injury of the + grammar, to the great grief of the reader, for most part! What we wants to + get at is the <i>thought</i> the man had, if he had any: why should he + twist it into jingle, if he <i>could</i> speak it out plainly? It is only + when the heart of him is rapt into true passion of melody, and the very + tones of him, according to Coleridge's remark, become musical by the + greatness, depth and music of his thoughts, that we can give him right to + rhyme and sing; that we call him a Poet, and listen to him as the Heroic + of Speakers,—whose speech is Song. Pretenders to this are many; and + to an earnest reader, I doubt, it is for most part a very melancholy, not + to say an insupportable business, that of reading rhyme! Rhyme that had no + inward necessity to be rhymed;—it ought to have told us plainly, + without any jingle, what it was aiming at. I would advise all men who <i>can</i> + speak their thought, not to sing it; to understand that, in a serious + time, among serious men, there is no vocation in them for singing it. + Precisely as we love the true song, and are charmed by it as by something + divine, so shall we hate the false song, and account it a mere wooden + noise, a thing hollow, superfluous, altogether an insincere and offensive + thing. + </p> + <p> + I give Dante my highest praise when I say of his <i>Divine Comedy</i> that + it is, in all senses, genuinely a Song. In the very sound of it there is a + <i>canto fermo</i>; it proceeds as by a chant. The language, his simple <i>terza + rima</i>, doubtless helped him in this. One reads along naturally with a + sort of <i>lilt</i>. But I add, that it could not be otherwise; for the + essence and material of the work are themselves rhythmic. Its depth, and + rapt passion and sincerity, makes it musical;—go <i>deep</i> enough, + there is music everywhere. A true inward symmetry, what one calls an + architectural harmony, reigns in it, proportionates it all: architectural; + which also partakes of the character of music. The three kingdoms, <i>Inferno</i>, + <i>Purgatorio</i>, <i>Paradiso</i>, look out on one another like + compartments of a great edifice; a great supernatural world-cathedral, + piled up there, stern, solemn, awful; Dante's World of Souls! It is, at + bottom, the <i>sincerest</i> of all Poems; sincerity, here too, we find to + be the measure of worth. It came deep out of the author's heart of hearts; + and it goes deep, and through long generations, into ours. The people of + Verona, when they saw him on the streets, used to say, "<i>Eccovi l' uom + ch' e stato all' Inferno</i>, See, there is the man that was in Hell!" Ah + yes, he had been in Hell;—in Hell enough, in long severe sorrow and + struggle; as the like of him is pretty sure to have been. Commedias that + come out <i>divine</i> are not accomplished otherwise. Thought, true labor + of any kind, highest virtue itself, is it not the daughter of Pain? Born + as out of the black whirlwind;—true <i>effort</i>, in fact, as of a + captive struggling to free himself: that is Thought. In all ways we are + "to become perfect through <i>suffering</i>."—<i>But</i>, as I say, + no work known to me is so elaborated as this of Dante's. It has all been + as if molten, in the hottest furnace of his soul. It had made him "lean" + for many years. Not the general whole only; every compartment of it is + worked out, with intense earnestness, into truth, into clear visuality. + Each answers to the other; each fits in its place, like a marble stone + accurately hewn and polished. It is the soul of Dante, and in this the + soul of the middle ages, rendered forever rhythmically visible there. No + light task; a right intense one: but a task which is <i>done</i>. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps one would say, <i>intensity</i>, with the much that depends on it, + is the prevailing character of Dante's genius. Dante does not come before + us as a large catholic mind; rather as a narrow, and even sectarian mind: + it is partly the fruit of his age and position, but partly too of his own + nature. His greatness has, in all senses, concentred itself into fiery + emphasis and depth. He is world-great not because he is worldwide, but + because he is world-deep. Through all objects he pierces as it were down + into the heart of Being. I know nothing so intense as Dante. Consider, for + example, to begin with the outermost development of his intensity, + consider how he paints. He has a great power of vision; seizes the very + type of a thing; presents that and nothing more. You remember that first + view he gets of the Hall of Dite: <i>red</i> pinnacle, red-hot cone of + iron glowing through the dim immensity of gloom;—so vivid, so + distinct, visible at once and forever! It is as an emblem of the whole + genius of Dante. There is a brevity, an abrupt precision in him: Tacitus + is not briefer, more condensed; and then in Dante it seems a natural + condensation, spontaneous to the man. One smiting word; and then there is + silence, nothing more said. His silence is more eloquent than words. It is + strange with what a sharp decisive grace he snatches the true likeness of + a matter: cuts into the matter as with a pen of fire. Plutus, the + blustering giant, collapses at Virgil's rebuke; it is "as the sails sink, + the mast being suddenly broken." Or that poor Brunetto Latini, with the <i>cotto + aspetto</i>, "face <i>baked</i>," parched brown and lean; and the "fiery + snow" that falls on them there, a "fiery snow without wind," slow, + deliberate, never-ending! Or the lids of those Tombs; square + sarcophaguses, in that silent dim-burning Hall, each with its Soul in + torment; the lids laid open there; they are to be shut at the Day of + Judgment, through Eternity. And how Farinata rises; and how Cavalcante + falls—at hearing of his Son, and the past tense "<i>fue</i>"! The + very movements in Dante have something brief; swift, decisive, almost + military. It is of the inmost essence of his genius this sort of painting. + The fiery, swift Italian nature of the man, so silent, passionate, with + its quick abrupt movements, its silent "pale rages," speaks itself in + these things. + </p> + <p> + For though this of painting is one of the outermost developments of a man, + it comes like all else from the essential faculty of him; it is + physiognomical of the whole man. Find a man whose words paint you a + likeness, you have found a man worth something; mark his manner of doing + it, as very characteristic of him. In the first place, he could not have + discerned the object at all, or seen the vital type of it, unless he had, + what we may call, <i>sympathized</i> with it,—had sympathy in him to + bestow on objects. He must have been <i>sincere</i> about it too; sincere + and sympathetic: a man without worth cannot give you the likeness of any + object; he dwells in vague outwardness, fallacy and trivial hearsay, about + all objects. And indeed may we not say that intellect altogether expresses + itself in this power of discerning what an object is? Whatsoever of + faculty a man's mind may have will come out here. Is it even of business, + a matter to be done? The gifted man is he who <i>sees</i> the essential + point, and leaves all the rest aside as surplusage: it is his faculty too, + the man of business's faculty, that he discern the true <i>likeness</i>, + not the false superficial one, of the thing he has got to work in. And how + much of <i>morality</i> is in the kind of insight we get of anything; "the + eye seeing in all things what it brought with it the faculty of seeing"! + To the mean eye all things are trivial, as certainly as to the jaundiced + they are yellow. Raphael, the Painters tell us, is the best of all + Portrait-painters withal. No most gifted eye can exhaust the significance + of any object. In the commonest human face there lies more than Raphael + will take away with him. + </p> + <p> + Dante's painting is not graphic only, brief, true, and of a vividness as + of fire in dark night; taken on the wider scale, it is every way noble, + and the outcome of a great soul. Francesca and her Lover, what qualities + in that! A thing woven as out of rainbows, on a ground of eternal black. A + small flute-voice of infinite wail speaks there, into our very heart of + hearts. A touch of womanhood in it too: <i>della bella persona, che mi fu + tolta</i>; and how, even in the Pit of woe, it is a solace that <i>he</i> + will never part from her! Saddest tragedy in these <i>alti guai</i>. And + the racking winds, in that <i>aer bruno</i>, whirl them away again, to + wail forever!—Strange to think: Dante was the friend of this poor + Francesca's father; Francesca herself may have sat upon the Poet's knee, + as a bright innocent little child. Infinite pity, yet also infinite rigor + of law: it is so Nature is made; it is so Dante discerned that she was + made. What a paltry notion is that of his <i>Divine Comedy's</i> being a + poor splenetic impotent terrestrial libel; putting those into Hell whom he + could not be avenged upon on earth! I suppose if ever pity, tender as a + mother's, was in the heart of any man, it was in Dante's. But a man who + does not know rigor cannot pity either. His very pity will be cowardly, + egoistic,—sentimentality, or little better. I know not in the world + an affection equal to that of Dante. It is a tenderness, a trembling, + longing, pitying love: like the wail of AEolian harps, soft, soft; like a + child's young heart;—and then that stern, sore-saddened heart! These + longings of his towards his Beatrice; their meeting together in the <i>Paradiso</i>; + his gazing in her pure transfigured eyes, her that had been purified by + death so long, separated from him so far:—one likens it to the song + of angels; it is among the purest utterances of affection, perhaps the + very purest, that ever came out of a human soul. + </p> + <p> + For the <i>intense</i> Dante is intense in all things; he has got into the + essence of all. His intellectual insight as painter, on occasion too as + reasoner, is but the result of all other sorts of intensity. Morally + great, above all, we must call him; it is the beginning of all. His scorn, + his grief are as transcendent as his love;—as indeed, what are they + but the <i>inverse</i> or <i>converse</i> of his love? "<i>A Dio spiacenti + ed a' nemici sui</i>, Hateful to God and to the enemies of God:" lofty + scorn, unappeasable silent reprobation and aversion; "<i>Non ragionam di + lor</i>, We will not speak of <i>them</i>, look only and pass." Or think + of this; "They have not the <i>hope</i> to die, <i>Non han speranza di + morte</i>." One day, it had risen sternly benign on the scathed heart of + Dante, that he, wretched, never-resting, worn as he was, would full surely + <i>die</i>; "that Destiny itself could not doom him not to die." Such + words are in this man. For rigor, earnestness and depth, he is not to be + paralleled in the modern world; to seek his parallel we must go into the + Hebrew Bible, and live with the antique Prophets there. + </p> + <p> + I do not agree with much modern criticism, in greatly preferring the <i>Inferno</i> + to the two other parts of the Divine <i>Commedia</i>. Such preference + belongs, I imagine, to our general Byronism of taste, and is like to be a + transient feeling. The <i>Purgatorio</i> and <i>Paradiso</i>, especially + the former, one would almost say, is even more excellent than it. It is a + noble thing that <i>Purgatorio</i>, "Mountain of Purification;" an emblem + of the noblest conception of that age. If sin is so fatal, and Hell is and + must be so rigorous, awful, yet in Repentance too is man purified; + Repentance is the grand Christian act. It is beautiful how Dante works it + out. The <i>tremolar dell' onde</i>, that "trembling" of the ocean-waves, + under the first pure gleam of morning, dawning afar on the wandering Two, + is as the type of an altered mood. Hope has now dawned; never-dying Hope, + if in company still with heavy sorrow. The obscure sojourn of demons and + reprobate is underfoot; a soft breathing of penitence mounts higher and + higher, to the Throne of Mercy itself. "Pray for me," the denizens of that + Mount of Pain all say to him. "Tell my Giovanna to pray for me," my + daughter Giovanna; "I think her mother loves me no more!" They toil + painfully up by that winding steep, "bent down like corbels of a + building," some of them,—crushed together so "for the sin of pride;" + yet nevertheless in years, in ages and aeons, they shall have reached the + top, which is heaven's gate, and by Mercy shall have been admitted in. The + joy too of all, when one has prevailed; the whole Mountain shakes with + joy, and a psalm of praise rises, when one soul has perfected repentance + and got its sin and misery left behind! I call all this a noble embodiment + of a true noble thought. + </p> + <p> + But indeed the Three compartments mutually support one another, are + indispensable to one another. The <i>Paradiso</i>, a kind of inarticulate + music to me, is the redeeming side of the <i>Inferno</i>; the <i>Inferno</i> + without it were untrue. All three make up the true Unseen World, as + figured in the Christianity of the Middle Ages; a thing forever memorable, + forever true in the essence of it, to all men. It was perhaps delineated + in no human soul with such depth of veracity as in this of Dante's; a man + <i>sent</i> to sing it, to keep it long memorable. Very notable with what + brief simplicity he passes out of the every-day reality, into the + Invisible one; and in the second or third stanza, we find ourselves in the + World of Spirits; and dwell there, as among things palpable, indubitable! + To Dante they <i>were</i> so; the real world, as it is called, and its + facts, was but the threshold to an infinitely higher Fact of a World. At + bottom, the one was as <i>preternatural</i> as the other. Has not each man + a soul? He will not only be a spirit, but is one. To the earnest Dante it + is all one visible Fact; he believes it, sees it; is the Poet of it in + virtue of that. Sincerity, I say again, is the saving merit, now as + always. + </p> + <p> + Dante's Hell, Purgatory, Paradise, are a symbol withal, an emblematic + representation of his Belief about this Universe:—some Critic in a + future age, like those Scandinavian ones the other day, who has ceased + altogether to think as Dante did, may find this too all an "Allegory," + perhaps an idle Allegory! It is a sublime embodiment, or sublimest, of the + soul of Christianity. It expresses, as in huge world-wide architectural + emblems, how the Christian Dante felt Good and Evil to be the two polar + elements of this Creation, on which it all turns; that these two differ + not by preferability of one to the other, but by incompatibility absolute + and infinite; that the one is excellent and high as light and Heaven, the + other hideous, black as Gehenna and the Pit of Hell! Everlasting Justice, + yet with Penitence, with everlasting Pity,—all Christianism, as + Dante and the Middle Ages had it, is emblemed here. Emblemed: and yet, as + I urged the other day, with what entire truth of purpose; how unconscious + of any embleming! Hell, Purgatory, Paradise: these things were not + fashioned as emblems; was there, in our Modern European Mind, any thought + at all of their being emblems! Were they not indubitable awful facts; the + whole heart of man taking them for practically true, all Nature everywhere + confirming them? So is it always in these things. Men do not believe an + Allegory. The future Critic, whatever his new thought may be, who + considers this of Dante to have been all got up as an Allegory, will + commit one sore mistake!—Paganism we recognized as a veracious + expression of the earnest awe-struck feeling of man towards the Universe; + veracious, true once, and still not without worth for us. But mark here + the difference of Paganism and Christianism; one great difference. + Paganism emblemed chiefly the Operations of Nature; the destinies, + efforts, combinations, vicissitudes of things and men in this world; + Christianism emblemed the Law of Human Duty, the Moral Law of Man. One was + for the sensuous nature: a rude helpless utterance of the first Thought of + men,—the chief recognized virtue, Courage, Superiority to Fear. The + other was not for the sensuous nature, but for the moral. What a progress + is here, if in that one respect only—! + </p> + <p> + And so in this Dante, as we said, had ten silent centuries, in a very + strange way, found a voice. The <i>Divina Commedia</i> is of Dante's + writing; yet in truth it belongs to ten Christian centuries, only the + finishing of it is Dante's. So always. The craftsman there, the smith with + that metal of his, with these tools, with these cunning methods,—how + little of all he does is properly <i>his</i> work! All past inventive men + work there with him;—as indeed with all of us, in all things. Dante + is the spokesman of the Middle Ages; the Thought they lived by stands + here, in everlasting music. These sublime ideas of his, terrible and + beautiful, are the fruit of the Christian Meditation of all the good men + who had gone before him. Precious they; but also is not he precious? Much, + had not he spoken, would have been dumb; not dead, yet living voiceless. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, is it not an utterance, this mystic Song, at once of one of + the greatest human souls, and of the highest thing that Europe had + hitherto realized for itself? Christianism, as Dante sings it, is another + than Paganism in the rude Norse mind; another than "Bastard Christianism" + half-articulately spoken in the Arab Desert, seven hundred years before!—The + noblest <i>idea</i> made <i>real</i> hitherto among men, is sung, and + emblemed forth abidingly, by one of the noblest men. In the one sense and + in the other, are we not right glad to possess it? As I calculate, it may + last yet for long thousands of years. For the thing that is uttered from + the inmost parts of a man's soul, differs altogether from what is uttered + by the outer part. The outer is of the day, under the empire of mode; the + outer passes away, in swift endless changes; the inmost is the same + yesterday, to-day and forever. True souls, in all generations of the + world, who look on this Dante, will find a brotherhood in him; the deep + sincerity of his thoughts, his woes and hopes, will speak likewise to + their sincerity; they will feel that this Dante too was a brother. + Napoleon in Saint Helena is charmed with the genial veracity of old Homer. + The oldest Hebrew Prophet, under a vesture the most diverse from ours, + does yet, because he speaks from the heart of man, speak to all men's + hearts. It is the one sole secret of continuing long memorable. Dante, for + depth of sincerity, is like an antique Prophet too; his words, like + theirs, come from his very heart. One need not wonder if it were predicted + that his Poem might be the most enduring thing our Europe has yet made; + for nothing so endures as a truly spoken word. All cathedrals, + pontificalities, brass and stone, and outer arrangement never so lasting, + are brief in comparison to an unfathomable heart-song like this: one feels + as if it might survive, still of importance to men, when these had all + sunk into new irrecognizable combinations, and had ceased individually to + be. Europe has made much; great cities, great empires, encyclopaedias, + creeds, bodies of opinion and practice: but it has made little of the + class of Dante's Thought. Homer yet <i>is</i> veritably present face to + face with every open soul of us; and Greece, where is <i>it</i>? Desolate + for thousands of years; away, vanished; a bewildered heap of stones and + rubbish, the life and existence of it all gone. Like a dream; like the + dust of King Agamemnon! Greece was; Greece, except in the <i>words</i> it + spoke, is not. + </p> + <p> + The uses of this Dante? We will not say much about his "uses." A human + soul who has once got into that primal element of <i>Song</i>, and sung + forth fitly somewhat therefrom, has worked in the <i>depths</i> of our + existence; feeding through long times the life-roots of all excellent + human things whatsoever,—in a way that "utilities" will not succeed + well in calculating! We will not estimate the Sun by the quantity of + gaslight it saves us; Dante shall be invaluable, or of no value. One + remark I may make: the contrast in this respect between the Hero-Poet and + the Hero-Prophet. In a hundred years, Mahomet, as we saw, had his Arabians + at Grenada and at Delhi; Dante's Italians seem to be yet very much where + they were. Shall we say, then, Dante's effect on the world was small in + comparison? Not so: his arena is far more restricted; but also it is far + nobler, clearer;—perhaps not less but more important. Mahomet speaks + to great masses of men, in the coarse dialect adapted to such; a dialect + filled with inconsistencies, crudities, follies: on the great masses alone + can he act, and there with good and with evil strangely blended. Dante + speaks to the noble, the pure and great, in all times and places. Neither + does he grow obsolete, as the other does. Dante burns as a pure star, + fixed there in the firmament, at which the great and the high of all ages + kindle themselves: he is the possession of all the chosen of the world for + uncounted time. Dante, one calculates, may long survive Mahomet. In this + way the balance may be made straight again. + </p> + <p> + But, at any rate, it is not by what is called their effect on the world, + by what <i>we</i> can judge of their effect there, that a man and his work + are measured. Effect? Influence? Utility? Let a man <i>do</i> his work; + the fruit of it is the care of Another than he. It will grow its own + fruit; and whether embodied in Caliph Thrones and Arabian Conquests, so + that it "fills all Morning and Evening Newspapers," and all Histories, + which are a kind of distilled Newspapers; or not embodied so at all;—what + matters that? That is not the real fruit of it! The Arabian Caliph, in so + far only as he did something, was something. If the great Cause of Man, + and Man's work in God's Earth, got no furtherance from the Arabian Caliph, + then no matter how many scimetars he drew, how many gold piasters + pocketed, and what uproar and blaring he made in this world,—<i>he</i> + was but a loud-sounding inanity and futility; at bottom, he <i>was</i> not + at all. Let us honor the great empire of <i>Silence</i>, once more! The + boundless treasury which we do not jingle in our pockets, or count up and + present before men! It is perhaps, of all things, the usefulest for each + of us to do, in these loud times.— + </p> + <p> + As Dante, the Italian man, was sent into our world to embody musically the + Religion of the Middle Ages, the Religion of our Modern Europe, its Inner + Life; so Shakspeare, we may say, embodies for us the Outer Life of our + Europe as developed then, its chivalries, courtesies, humors, ambitions, + what practical way of thinking, acting, looking at the world, men then + had. As in Homer we may still construe Old Greece; so in Shakspeare and + Dante, after thousands of years, what our modern Europe was, in Faith and + in Practice, will still be legible. Dante has given us the Faith or soul; + Shakspeare, in a not less noble way, has given us the Practice or body. + This latter also we were to have; a man was sent for it, the man + Shakspeare. Just when that chivalry way of life had reached its last + finish, and was on the point of breaking down into slow or swift + dissolution, as we now see it everywhere, this other sovereign Poet, with + his seeing eye, with his perennial singing voice, was sent to take note of + it, to give long-enduring record of it. Two fit men: Dante, deep, fierce + as the central fire of the world; Shakspeare, wide, placid, far-seeing, as + the Sun, the upper light of the world. Italy produced the one world-voice; + we English had the honor of producing the other. + </p> + <p> + Curious enough how, as it were by mere accident, this man came to us. I + think always, so great, quiet, complete and self-sufficing is this + Shakspeare, had the Warwickshire Squire not prosecuted him for + deer-stealing, we had perhaps never heard of him as a Poet! The woods and + skies, the rustic Life of Man in Stratford there, had been enough for this + man! But indeed that strange outbudding of our whole English Existence, + which we call the Elizabethan Era, did not it too come as of its own + accord? The "Tree Igdrasil" buds and withers by its own laws,—too + deep for our scanning. Yet it does bud and wither, and every bough and + leaf of it is there, by fixed eternal laws; not a Sir Thomas Lucy but + comes at the hour fit for him. Curious, I say, and not sufficiently + considered: how everything does co-operate with all; not a leaf rotting on + the highway but is indissoluble portion of solar and stellar systems; no + thought, word or act of man but has sprung withal out of all men, and + works sooner or later, recognizably or irrecognizable, on all men! It is + all a Tree: circulation of sap and influences, mutual communication of + every minutest leaf with the lowest talon of a root, with every other + greatest and minutest portion of the whole. The Tree Igdrasil, that has + its roots down in the Kingdoms of Hela and Death, and whose boughs + overspread the highest Heaven—! + </p> + <p> + In some sense it may be said that this glorious Elizabethan Era with its + Shakspeare, as the outcome and flowerage of all which had preceded it, is + itself attributable to the Catholicism of the Middle Ages. The Christian + Faith, which was the theme of Dante's Song, had produced this Practical + Life which Shakspeare was to sing. For Religion then, as it now and always + is, was the soul of Practice; the primary vital fact in men's life. And + remark here, as rather curious, that Middle-Age Catholicism was abolished, + so far as Acts of Parliament could abolish it, before Shakspeare, the + noblest product of it, made his appearance. He did make his appearance + nevertheless. Nature at her own time, with Catholicism or what else might + be necessary, sent him forth; taking small thought of Acts of Parliament. + King Henrys, Queen Elizabeths go their way; and Nature too goes hers. Acts + of Parliament, on the whole, are small, notwithstanding the noise they + make. What Act of Parliament, debate at St. Stephen's, on the hustings or + elsewhere, was it that brought this Shakspeare into being? No dining at + Freemason's Tavern, opening subscription-lists, selling of shares, and + infinite other jangling and true or false endeavoring! This Elizabethan + Era, and all its nobleness and blessedness, came without proclamation, + preparation of ours. Priceless Shakspeare was the free gift of Nature; + given altogether silently;—received altogether silently, as if it + had been a thing of little account. And yet, very literally, it is a + priceless thing. One should look at that side of matters too. + </p> + <p> + Of this Shakspeare of ours, perhaps the opinion one sometimes hears a + little idolatrously expressed is, in fact, the right one; I think the best + judgment not of this country only, but of Europe at large, is slowly + pointing to the conclusion, that Shakspeare is the chief of all Poets + hitherto; the greatest intellect who, in our recorded world, has left + record of himself in the way of Literature. On the whole, I know not such + a power of vision, such a faculty of thought, if we take all the + characters of it, in any other man. Such a calmness of depth; placid + joyous strength; all things imaged in that great soul of his so true and + clear, as in a tranquil unfathomable sea! It has been said, that in the + constructing of Shakspeare's Dramas there is, apart from all other + "faculties" as they are called, an understanding manifested, equal to that + in Bacon's <i>Novum Organum</i> That is true; and it is not a truth that + strikes every one. It would become more apparent if we tried, any of us + for himself, how, out of Shakspeare's dramatic materials, <i>we</i> could + fashion such a result! The built house seems all so fit,—every way + as it should be, as if it came there by its own law and the nature of + things,—we forget the rude disorderly quarry it was shaped from. The + very perfection of the house, as if Nature herself had made it, hides the + builder's merit. Perfect, more perfect than any other man, we may call + Shakspeare in this: he discerns, knows as by instinct, what condition he + works under, what his materials are, what his own force and its relation + to them is. It is not a transitory glance of insight that will suffice; it + is deliberate illumination of the whole matter; it is a calmly <i>seeing</i> + eye; a great intellect, in short. How a man, of some wide thing that he + has witnessed, will construct a narrative, what kind of picture and + delineation he will give of it,—is the best measure you could get of + what intellect is in the man. Which circumstance is vital and shall stand + prominent; which unessential, fit to be suppressed; where is the true <i>beginning</i>, + the true sequence and ending? To find out this, you task the whole force + of insight that is in the man. He must <i>understand</i> the thing; + according to the depth of his understanding, will the fitness of his + answer be. You will try him so. Does like join itself to like; does the + spirit of method stir in that confusion, so that its embroilment becomes + order? Can the man say, <i>Fiat lux</i>, Let there be light; and out of + chaos make a world? Precisely as there is light in himself, will he + accomplish this. + </p> + <p> + Or indeed we may say again, it is in what I called Portrait-painting, + delineating of men and things, especially of men, that Shakspeare is + great. All the greatness of the man comes out decisively here. It is + unexampled, I think, that calm creative perspicacity of Shakspeare. The + thing he looks at reveals not this or that face of it, but its inmost + heart, and generic secret: it dissolves itself as in light before him, so + that he discerns the perfect structure of it. Creative, we said: poetic + creation, what is this too but <i>seeing</i> the thing sufficiently? The + <i>word</i> that will describe the thing, follows of itself from such + clear intense sight of the thing. And is not Shakspeare's <i>morality</i>, + his valor, candor, tolerance, truthfulness; his whole victorious strength + and greatness, which can triumph over such obstructions, visible there + too? Great as the world. No <i>twisted</i>, poor convex-concave mirror, + reflecting all objects with its own convexities and concavities; a + perfectly <i>level</i> mirror;—that is to say withal, if we will + understand it, a man justly related to all things and men, a good man. It + is truly a lordly spectacle how this great soul takes in all kinds of men + and objects, a Falstaff, an Othello, a Juliet, a Coriolanus; sets them all + forth to us in their round completeness; loving, just, the equal brother + of all. <i>Novum Organum</i>, and all the intellect you will find in + Bacon, is of a quite secondary order; earthy, material, poor in comparison + with this. Among modern men, one finds, in strictness, almost nothing of + the same rank. Goethe alone, since the days of Shakspeare, reminds me of + it. Of him too you say that he <i>saw</i> the object; you may say what he + himself says of Shakspeare: "His characters are like watches with + dial-plates of transparent crystal; they show you the hour like others, + and the inward mechanism also is all visible." + </p> + <p> + The seeing eye! It is this that discloses the inner harmony of things; + what Nature meant, what musical idea Nature has wrapped up in these often + rough embodiments. Something she did mean. To the seeing eye that + something were discernible. Are they base, miserable things? You can laugh + over them, you can weep over them; you can in some way or other genially + relate yourself to them;—you can, at lowest, hold your peace about + them, turn away your own and others' face from them, till the hour come + for practically exterminating and extinguishing them! At bottom, it is the + Poet's first gift, as it is all men's, that he have intellect enough. He + will be a Poet if he have: a Poet in word; or failing that, perhaps still + better, a Poet in act. Whether he write at all; and if so, whether in + prose or in verse, will depend on accidents: who knows on what extremely + trivial accidents,—perhaps on his having had a singing-master, on + his being taught to sing in his boyhood! But the faculty which enables him + to discern the inner heart of things, and the harmony that dwells there + (for whatsoever exists has a harmony in the heart of it, or it would not + hold together and exist), is not the result of habits or accidents, but + the gift of Nature herself; the primary outfit for a Heroic Man in what + sort soever. To the Poet, as to every other, we say first of all, <i>See</i>. + If you cannot do that, it is of no use to keep stringing rhymes together, + jingling sensibilities against each other, and <i>name</i> yourself a + Poet; there is no hope for you. If you can, there is, in prose or verse, + in action or speculation, all manner of hope. The crabbed old Schoolmaster + used to ask, when they brought him a new pupil, "But are ye sure he's <i>not + a dunce</i>?" Why, really one might ask the same thing, in regard to every + man proposed for whatsoever function; and consider it as the one inquiry + needful: Are ye sure he's not a dunce? There is, in this world, no other + entirely fatal person. + </p> + <p> + For, in fact, I say the degree of vision that dwells in a man is a correct + measure of the man. If called to define Shakspeare's faculty, I should say + superiority of Intellect, and think I had included all under that. What + indeed are faculties? We talk of faculties as if they were distinct, + things separable; as if a man had intellect, imagination, fancy, &c., + as he has hands, feet and arms. That is a capital error. Then again, we + hear of a man's "intellectual nature," and of his "moral nature," as if + these again were divisible, and existed apart. Necessities of language do + perhaps prescribe such forms of utterance; we must speak, I am aware, in + that way, if we are to speak at all. But words ought not to harden into + things for us. It seems to me, our apprehension of this matter is, for + most part, radically falsified thereby. We ought to know withal, and to + keep forever in mind, that these divisions are at bottom but <i>names</i>; + that man's spiritual nature, the vital Force which dwells in him, is + essentially one and indivisible; that what we call imagination, fancy, + understanding, and so forth, are but different figures of the same Power + of Insight, all indissolubly connected with each other, physiognomically + related; that if we knew one of them, we might know all of them. Morality + itself, what we call the moral quality of a man, what is this but another + <i>side</i> of the one vital Force whereby he is and works? All that a man + does is physiognomical of him. You may see how a man would fight, by the + way in which he sings; his courage, or want of courage, is visible in the + word he utters, in the opinion he has formed, no less than in the stroke + he strikes. He is <i>one</i>; and preaches the same Self abroad in all + these ways. + </p> + <p> + Without hands a man might have feet, and could still walk: but, consider + it,—without morality, intellect were impossible for him; a + thoroughly immoral <i>man</i> could not know anything at all! To know a + thing, what we can call knowing, a man must first <i>love</i> the thing, + sympathize with it: that is, be <i>virtuously</i> related to it. If he + have not the justice to put down his own selfishness at every turn, the + courage to stand by the dangerous-true at every turn, how shall he know? + His virtues, all of them, will lie recorded in his knowledge. Nature, with + her truth, remains to the bad, to the selfish and the pusillanimous + forever a sealed book: what such can know of Nature is mean, superficial, + small; for the uses of the day merely.—But does not the very Fox + know something of Nature? Exactly so: it knows where the geese lodge! The + human Reynard, very frequent everywhere in the world, what more does he + know but this and the like of this? Nay, it should be considered too, that + if the Fox had not a certain vulpine <i>morality</i>, he could not even + know where the geese were, or get at the geese! If he spent his time in + splenetic atrabiliar reflections on his own misery, his ill usage by + Nature, Fortune and other Foxes, and so forth; and had not courage, + promptitude, practicality, and other suitable vulpine gifts and graces, he + would catch no geese. We may say of the Fox too, that his morality and + insight are of the same dimensions; different faces of the same internal + unity of vulpine life!—These things are worth stating; for the + contrary of them acts with manifold very baleful perversion, in this time: + what limitations, modifications they require, your own candor will supply. + </p> + <p> + If I say, therefore, that Shakspeare is the greatest of Intellects, I have + said all concerning him. But there is more in Shakspeare's intellect than + we have yet seen. It is what I call an unconscious intellect; there is + more virtue in it than he himself is aware of. Novalis beautifully remarks + of him, that those Dramas of his are Products of Nature too, deep as + Nature herself. I find a great truth in this saying. Shakspeare's Art is + not Artifice; the noblest worth of it is not there by plan or + precontrivance. It grows up from the deeps of Nature, through this noble + sincere soul, who is a voice of Nature. The latest generations of men will + find new meanings in Shakspeare, new elucidations of their own human + being; "new harmonies with the infinite structure of the Universe; + concurrences with later ideas, affinities with the higher powers and + senses of man." This well deserves meditating. It is Nature's highest + reward to a true simple great soul, that he get thus to be <i>a part of + herself</i>. Such a man's works, whatsoever he with utmost conscious + exertion and forethought shall accomplish, grow up withal unconsciously, + from the unknown deeps in him;—as the oak-tree grows from the + Earth's bosom, as the mountains and waters shape themselves; with a + symmetry grounded on Nature's own laws, conformable to all Truth + whatsoever. How much in Shakspeare lies hid; his sorrows, his silent + struggles known to himself; much that was not known at all, not speakable + at all: like <i>roots</i>, like sap and forces working underground! Speech + is great; but Silence is greater. + </p> + <p> + Withal the joyful tranquillity of this man is notable. I will not blame + Dante for his misery: it is as battle without victory; but true battle,—the + first, indispensable thing. Yet I call Shakspeare greater than Dante, in + that he fought truly, and did conquer. Doubt it not, he had his own + sorrows: those <i>Sonnets</i> of his will even testify expressly in what + deep waters he had waded, and swum struggling for his life;—as what + man like him ever failed to have to do? It seems to me a heedless notion, + our common one, that he sat like a bird on the bough; and sang forth, free + and off-hand, never knowing the troubles of other men. Not so; with no man + is it so. How could a man travel forward from rustic deer-poaching to such + tragedy-writing, and not fall in with sorrows by the way? Or, still + better, how could a man delineate a Hamlet, a Coriolanus, a Macbeth, so + many suffering heroic hearts, if his own heroic heart had never suffered?—And + now, in contrast with all this, observe his mirthfulness, his genuine + overflowing love of laughter! You would say, in no point does he <i>exaggerate</i> + but only in laughter. Fiery objurgations, words that pierce and burn, are + to be found in Shakspeare; yet he is always in measure here; never what + Johnson would remark as a specially "good hater." But his laughter seems + to pour from him in floods; he heaps all manner of ridiculous nicknames on + the butt he is bantering, tumbles and tosses him in all sorts of + horse-play; you would say, with his whole heart laughs. And then, if not + always the finest, it is always a genial laughter. Not at mere weakness, + at misery or poverty; never. No man who <i>can</i> laugh, what we call + laughing, will laugh at these things. It is some poor character only <i>desiring</i> + to laugh, and have the credit of wit, that does so. Laughter means + sympathy; good laughter is not "the crackling of thorns under the pot." + Even at stupidity and pretension this Shakspeare does not laugh otherwise + than genially. Dogberry and Verges tickle our very hearts; and we dismiss + them covered with explosions of laughter: but we like the poor fellows + only the better for our laughing; and hope they will get on well there, + and continue Presidents of the City-watch. Such laughter, like sunshine on + the deep sea, is very beautiful to me. + </p> + <p> + We have no room to speak of Shakspeare's individual works; though perhaps + there is much still waiting to be said on that head. Had we, for instance, + all his plays reviewed as <i>Hamlet</i>, in <i>Wilhelm Meister</i>, is! A + thing which might, one day, be done. August Wilhelm Schlegel has a remark + on his Historical Plays, <i>Henry Fifth</i> and the others, which is worth + remembering. He calls them a kind of National Epic. Marlborough, you + recollect, said, he knew no English History but what he had learned from + Shakspeare. There are really, if we look to it, few as memorable + Histories. The great salient points are admirably seized; all rounds + itself off, into a kind of rhythmic coherence; it is, as Schlegel says, + epic;—as indeed all delineation by a great thinker will be. There + are right beautiful things in those Pieces, which indeed together form one + beautiful thing. That battle of Agincourt strikes me as one of the most + perfect things, in its sort, we anywhere have of Shakspeare's. The + description of the two hosts: the worn-out, jaded English; the dread hour, + big with destiny, when the battle shall begin; and then that deathless + valor: "Ye good yeomen, whose limbs were made in England!" There is a + noble Patriotism in it,—far other than the "indifference" you + sometimes hear ascribed to Shakspeare. A true English heart breathes, calm + and strong, through the whole business; not boisterous, protrusive; all + the better for that. There is a sound in it like the ring of steel. This + man too had a right stroke in him, had it come to that! + </p> + <p> + But I will say, of Shakspeare's works generally, that we have no full + impress of him there; even as full as we have of many men. His works are + so many windows, through which we see a glimpse of the world that was in + him. All his works seem, comparatively speaking, cursory, imperfect, + written under cramping circumstances; giving only here and there a note of + the full utterance of the man. Passages there are that come upon you like + splendor out of Heaven; bursts of radiance, illuminating the very heart of + the thing: you say, "That is <i>true</i>, spoken once and forever; + wheresoever and whensoever there is an open human soul, that will be + recognized as true!" Such bursts, however, make us feel that the + surrounding matter is not radiant; that it is, in part, temporary, + conventional. Alas, Shakspeare had to write for the Globe Playhouse: his + great soul had to crush itself, as it could, into that and no other mould. + It was with him, then, as it is with us all. No man works save under + conditions. The sculptor cannot set his own free Thought before us; but + his Thought as he could translate it into the stone that was given, with + the tools that were given. <i>Disjecta membra</i> are all that we find of + any Poet, or of any man. + </p> + <p> + Whoever looks intelligently at this Shakspeare may recognize that he too + was a <i>Prophet</i>, in his way; of an insight analogous to the + Prophetic, though he took it up in another strain. Nature seemed to this + man also divine; unspeakable, deep as Tophet, high as Heaven; "We are such + stuff as Dreams are made of!" That scroll in Westminster Abbey, which few + read with understanding, is of the depth of any seer. But the man sang; + did not preach, except musically. We called Dante the melodious Priest of + Middle-Age Catholicism. May we not call Shakspeare the still more + melodious Priest of a <i>true</i> Catholicism, the "Universal Church" of + the Future and of all times? No narrow superstition, harsh asceticism, + intolerance, fanatical fierceness or perversion: a Revelation, so far as + it goes, that such a thousand-fold hidden beauty and divineness dwells in + all Nature; which let all men worship as they can! We may say without + offence, that there rises a kind of universal Psalm out of this Shakspeare + too; not unfit to make itself heard among the still more sacred Psalms. + Not in disharmony with these, if we understood them, but in harmony!—I + cannot call this Shakspeare a "Sceptic," as some do; his indifference to + the creeds and theological quarrels of his time misleading them. No: + neither unpatriotic, though he says little about his Patriotism; nor + sceptic, though he says little about his Faith. Such "indifference" was + the fruit of his greatness withal: his whole heart was in his own grand + sphere of worship (we may call it such); these other controversies, + vitally important to other men, were not vital to him. + </p> + <p> + But call it worship, call it what you will, is it not a right glorious + thing, and set of things, this that Shakspeare has brought us? For myself, + I feel that there is actually a kind of sacredness in the fact of such a + man being sent into this Earth. Is he not an eye to us all; a blessed + heaven-sent Bringer of Light?—And, at bottom, was it not perhaps far + better that this Shakspeare, every way an unconscious man, was <i>conscious</i> + of no Heavenly message? He did not feel, like Mahomet, because he saw into + those internal Splendors, that he specially was the "Prophet of God:" and + was he not greater than Mahomet in that? Greater; and also, if we compute + strictly, as we did in Dante's case, more successful. It was intrinsically + an error that notion of Mahomet's, of his supreme Prophethood; and has + come down to us inextricably involved in error to this day; dragging along + with it such a coil of fables, impurities, intolerances, as makes it a + questionable step for me here and now to say, as I have done, that Mahomet + was a true Speaker at all, and not rather an ambitious charlatan, + perversity and simulacrum; no Speaker, but a Babbler! Even in Arabia, as I + compute, Mahomet will have exhausted himself and become obsolete, while + this Shakspeare, this Dante may still be young;—while this + Shakspeare may still pretend to be a Priest of Mankind, of Arabia as of + other places, for unlimited periods to come! + </p> + <p> + Compared with any speaker or singer one knows, even with Aeschylus or + Homer, why should he not, for veracity and universality, last like them? + He is <i>sincere</i> as they; reaches deep down like them, to the + universal and perennial. But as for Mahomet, I think it had been better + for him <i>not</i> to be so conscious! Alas, poor Mahomet; all that he was + <i>conscious</i> of was a mere error; a futility and triviality,—as + indeed such ever is. The truly great in him too was the unconscious: that + he was a wild Arab lion of the desert, and did speak out with that great + thunder-voice of his, not by words which he <i>thought</i> to be great, + but by actions, by feelings, by a history which <i>were</i> great! His + Koran has become a stupid piece of prolix absurdity; we do not believe, + like him, that God wrote that! The Great Man here too, as always, is a + Force of Nature. Whatsoever is truly great in him springs up from the <i>in</i>articulate + deeps. + </p> + <p> + Well: this is our poor Warwickshire Peasant, who rose to be Manager of a + Playhouse, so that he could live without begging; whom the Earl of + Southampton cast some kind glances on; whom Sir Thomas Lucy, many thanks + to him, was for sending to the Treadmill! We did not account him a god, + like Odin, while he dwelt with us;—on which point there were much to + be said. But I will say rather, or repeat: In spite of the sad state + Hero-worship now lies in, consider what this Shakspeare has actually + become among us. Which Englishman we ever made, in this land of ours, + which million of Englishmen, would we not give up rather than the + Stratford Peasant? There is no regiment of highest Dignitaries that we + would sell him for. He is the grandest thing we have yet done. For our + honor among foreign nations, as an ornament to our English Household, what + item is there that we would not surrender rather than him? Consider now, + if they asked us, Will you give up your Indian Empire or your Shakspeare, + you English; never have had any Indian Empire, or never have had any + Shakspeare? Really it were a grave question. Official persons would answer + doubtless in official language; but we, for our part too, should not we be + forced to answer: Indian Empire, or no Indian Empire; we cannot do without + Shakspeare! Indian Empire will go, at any rate, some day; but this + Shakspeare does not go, he lasts forever with us; we cannot give up our + Shakspeare! + </p> + <p> + Nay, apart from spiritualities; and considering him merely as a real, + marketable, tangibly useful possession. England, before long, this Island + of ours, will hold but a small fraction of the English: in America, in New + Holland, east and west to the very Antipodes, there will be a Saxondom + covering great spaces of the Globe. And now, what is it that can keep all + these together into virtually one Nation, so that they do not fall out and + fight, but live at peace, in brotherlike intercourse, helping one another? + This is justly regarded as the greatest practical problem, the thing all + manner of sovereignties and governments are here to accomplish: what is it + that will accomplish this? Acts of Parliament, administrative + prime-ministers cannot. America is parted from us, so far as Parliament + could part it. Call it not fantastic, for there is much reality in it: + Here, I say, is an English King, whom no time or chance, Parliament or + combination of Parliaments, can dethrone! This King Shakspeare, does not + he shine, in crowned sovereignty, over us all, as the noblest, gentlest, + yet strongest of rallying-signs; indestructible; really more valuable in + that point of view than any other means or appliance whatsoever? We can + fancy him as radiant aloft over all the Nations of Englishmen, a thousand + years hence. From Paramatta, from New York, wheresoever, under what sort + of Parish-Constable soever, English men and women are, they will say to + one another: "Yes, this Shakspeare is ours; we produced him, we speak and + think by him; we are of one blood and kind with him." The most + common-sense politician, too, if he pleases, may think of that. + </p> + <p> + Yes, truly, it is a great thing for a Nation that it get an articulate + voice; that it produce a man who will speak forth melodiously what the + heart of it means! Italy, for example, poor Italy lies dismembered, + scattered asunder, not appearing in any protocol or treaty as a unity at + all; yet the noble Italy is actually <i>one</i>: Italy produced its Dante; + Italy can speak! The Czar of all the Russias, he is strong with so many + bayonets, Cossacks and cannons; and does a great feat in keeping such a + tract of Earth politically together; but he cannot yet speak. Something + great in him, but it is a dumb greatness. He has had no voice of genius, + to be heard of all men and times. He must learn to speak. He is a great + dumb monster hitherto. His cannons and Cossacks will all have rusted into + nonentity, while that Dante's voice is still audible. The Nation that has + a Dante is bound together as no dumb Russia can be.—We must here end + what we had to say of the <i>Hero-Poet</i>. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LECTURE IV. THE HERO AS PRIEST. LUTHER; REFORMATION: KNOX; PURITANISM. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 15, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + Our present discourse is to be of the Great Man as Priest. We have + repeatedly endeavored to explain that all sorts of Heroes are + intrinsically of the same material; that given a great soul, open to the + Divine Significance of Life, then there is given a man fit to speak of + this, to sing of this, to fight and work for this, in a great, victorious, + enduring manner; there is given a Hero,—the outward shape of whom + will depend on the time and the environment he finds himself in. The + Priest too, as I understand it, is a kind of Prophet; in him too there is + required to be a light of inspiration, as we must name it. He presides + over the worship of the people; is the Uniter of them with the Unseen + Holy. He is the spiritual Captain of the people; as the Prophet is their + spiritual King with many captains: he guides them heavenward, by wise + guidance through this Earth and its work. The ideal of him is, that he too + be what we can call a voice from the unseen Heaven; interpreting, even as + the Prophet did, and in a more familiar manner unfolding the same to men. + The unseen Heaven,—the "open secret of the Universe,"—which so + few have an eye for! He is the Prophet shorn of his more awful splendor; + burning with mild equable radiance, as the enlightener of daily life. + This, I say, is the ideal of a Priest. So in old times; so in these, and + in all times. One knows very well that, in reducing ideals to practice, + great latitude of tolerance is needful; very great. But a Priest who is + not this at all, who does not any longer aim or try to be this, is a + character—of whom we had rather not speak in this place. + </p> + <p> + Luther and Knox were by express vocation Priests, and did faithfully + perform that function in its common sense. Yet it will suit us better here + to consider them chiefly in their historical character, rather as + Reformers than Priests. There have been other Priests perhaps equally + notable, in calmer times, for doing faithfully the office of a Leader of + Worship; bringing down, by faithful heroism in that kind, a light from + Heaven into the daily life of their people; leading them forward, as under + God's guidance, in the way wherein they were to go. But when this same <i>way</i> + was a rough one, of battle, confusion and danger, the spiritual Captain, + who led through that, becomes, especially to us who live under the fruit + of his leading, more notable than any other. He is the warfaring and + battling Priest; who led his people, not to quiet faithful labor as in + smooth times, but to faithful valorous conflict, in times all violent, + dismembered: a more perilous service, and a more memorable one, be it + higher or not. These two men we will account our best Priests, inasmuch as + they were our best Reformers. Nay I may ask, Is not every true Reformer, + by the nature of him, a <i>Priest</i> first of all? He appeals to Heaven's + invisible justice against Earth's visible force; knows that it, the + invisible, is strong and alone strong. He is a believer in the divine + truth of things; a <i>seer</i>, seeing through the shows of things; a + worshipper, in one way or the other, of the divine truth of things; a + Priest, that is. If he be not first a Priest, he will never be good for + much as a Reformer. + </p> + <p> + Thus then, as we have seen Great Men, in various situations, building up + Religions, heroic Forms of human Existence in this world, Theories of Life + worthy to be sung by a Dante, Practices of Life by a Shakspeare,—we + are now to see the reverse process; which also is necessary, which also + may be carried on in the Heroic manner. Curious how this should be + necessary: yet necessary it is. The mild shining of the Poet's light has + to give place to the fierce lightning of the Reformer: unfortunately the + Reformer too is a personage that cannot fail in History! The Poet indeed, + with his mildness, what is he but the product and ultimate adjustment of + Reform, or Prophecy, with its fierceness? No wild Saint Dominics and + Thebaid Eremites, there had been no melodious Dante; rough Practical + Endeavor, Scandinavian and other, from Odin to Walter Raleigh, from Ulfila + to Cranmer, enabled Shakspeare to speak. Nay the finished Poet, I remark + sometimes, is a symptom that his epoch itself has reached perfection and + is finished; that before long there will be a new epoch, new Reformers + needed. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless it were finer, could we go along always in the way of <i>music</i>; + be tamed and taught by our Poets, as the rude creatures were by their + Orpheus of old. Or failing this rhythmic <i>musical</i> way, how good were + it could we get so much as into the <i>equable</i> way; I mean, if <i>peaceable</i> + Priests, reforming from day to day, would always suffice us! But it is not + so; even this latter has not yet been realized. Alas, the battling + Reformer too is, from time to time, a needful and inevitable phenomenon. + Obstructions are never wanting: the very things that were once + indispensable furtherances become obstructions; and need to be shaken off, + and left behind us,—a business often of enormous difficulty. It is + notable enough, surely, how a Theorem or spiritual Representation, so we + may call it, which once took in the whole Universe, and was completely + satisfactory in all parts of it to the highly discursive acute intellect + of Dante, one of the greatest in the world,—had in the course of + another century become dubitable to common intellects; become deniable; + and is now, to every one of us, flatly incredible, obsolete as Odin's + Theorem! To Dante, human Existence, and God's ways with men, were all well + represented by those <i>Malebolges</i>, <i>Purgatorios</i>; to Luther not + well. How was this? Why could not Dante's Catholicism continue; but + Luther's Protestantism must needs follow? Alas, nothing will <i>continue</i>. + </p> + <p> + I do not make much of "Progress of the Species," as handled in these times + of ours; nor do I think you would care to hear much about it. The talk on + that subject is too often of the most extravagant, confused sort. Yet I + may say, the fact itself seems certain enough; nay we can trace out the + inevitable necessity of it in the nature of things. Every man, as I have + stated somewhere, is not only a learner but a doer: he learns with the + mind given him what has been; but with the same mind he discovers farther, + he invents and devises somewhat of his own. Absolutely without originality + there is no man. No man whatever believes, or can believe, exactly what + his grandfather believed: he enlarges somewhat, by fresh discovery, his + view of the Universe, and consequently his Theorem of the Universe,—which + is an <i>infinite</i> Universe, and can never be embraced wholly or + finally by any view or Theorem, in any conceivable enlargement: he + enlarges somewhat, I say; finds somewhat that was credible to his + grandfather incredible to him, false to him, inconsistent with some new + thing he has discovered or observed. It is the history of every man; and + in the history of Mankind we see it summed up into great historical + amounts,—revolutions, new epochs. Dante's Mountain of Purgatory does + <i>not</i> stand "in the ocean of the other Hemisphere," when Columbus has + once sailed thither! Men find no such thing extant in the other + Hemisphere. It is not there. It must cease to be believed to be there. So + with all beliefs whatsoever in this world,—all Systems of Belief, + and Systems of Practice that spring from these. + </p> + <p> + If we add now the melancholy fact, that when Belief waxes uncertain, + Practice too becomes unsound, and errors, injustices and miseries + everywhere more and more prevail, we shall see material enough for + revolution. At all turns, a man who will <i>do</i> faithfully, needs to + believe firmly. If he have to ask at every turn the world's suffrage; if + he cannot dispense with the world's suffrage, and make his own suffrage + serve, he is a poor eye-servant; the work committed to him will be <i>mis</i>done. + Every such man is a daily contributor to the inevitable downfall. + Whatsoever work he does, dishonestly, with an eye to the outward look of + it, is a new offence, parent of new misery to somebody or other. Offences + accumulate till they become insupportable; and are then violently burst + through, cleared off as by explosion. Dante's sublime Catholicism, + incredible now in theory, and defaced still worse by faithless, doubting + and dishonest practice, has to be torn asunder by a Luther, Shakspeare's + noble Feudalism, as beautiful as it once looked and was, has to end in a + French Revolution. The accumulation of offences is, as we say, too + literally <i>exploded</i>, blasted asunder volcanically; and there are + long troublous periods, before matters come to a settlement again. + </p> + <p> + Surely it were mournful enough to look only at this face of the matter, + and find in all human opinions and arrangements merely the fact that they + were uncertain, temporary, subject to the law of death! At bottom, it is + not so: all death, here too we find, is but of the body, not of the + essence or soul; all destruction, by violent revolution or howsoever it + be, is but new creation on a wider scale. Odinism was <i>Valor</i>; + Christianism was <i>Humility</i>, a nobler kind of Valor. No thought that + ever dwelt honestly as true in the heart of man but <i>was</i> an honest + insight into God's truth on man's part, and <i>has</i> an essential truth + in it which endures through all changes, an everlasting possession for us + all. And, on the other hand, what a melancholy notion is that, which has + to represent all men, in all countries and times except our own, as having + spent their life in blind condemnable error, mere lost Pagans, + Scandinavians, Mahometans, only that we might have the true ultimate + knowledge! All generations of men were lost and wrong, only that this + present little section of a generation might be saved and right. They all + marched forward there, all generations since the beginning of the world, + like the Russian soldiers into the ditch of Schweidnitz Fort, only to fill + up the ditch with their dead bodies, that we might march over and take the + place! It is an incredible hypothesis. + </p> + <p> + Such incredible hypothesis we have seen maintained with fierce emphasis; + and this or the other poor individual man, with his sect of individual + men, marching as over the dead bodies of all men, towards sure victory but + when he too, with his hypothesis and ultimate infallible credo, sank into + the ditch, and became a dead body, what was to be said?—Withal, it + is an important fact in the nature of man, that he tends to reckon his own + insight as final, and goes upon it as such. He will always do it, I + suppose, in one or the other way; but it must be in some wider, wiser way + than this. Are not all true men that live, or that ever lived, soldiers of + the same army, enlisted, under Heaven's captaincy, to do battle against + the same enemy, the empire of Darkness and Wrong? Why should we misknow + one another, fight not against the enemy but against ourselves, from mere + difference of uniform? All uniforms shall be good, so they hold in them + true valiant men. All fashions of arms, the Arab turban and swift + scimetar, Thor's strong hammer smiting down <i>Jotuns</i>, shall be + welcome. Luther's battle-voice, Dante's march-melody, all genuine things + are with us, not against us. We are all under one Captain, soldiers of the + same host.—Let us now look a little at this Luther's fighting; what + kind of battle it was, and how he comported himself in it. Luther too was + of our spiritual Heroes; a Prophet to his country and time. + </p> + <p> + As introductory to the whole, a remark about Idolatry will perhaps be in + place here. One of Mahomet's characteristics, which indeed belongs to all + Prophets, is unlimited implacable zeal against Idolatry. It is the grand + theme of Prophets: Idolatry, the worshipping of dead Idols as the + Divinity, is a thing they cannot away with, but have to denounce + continually, and brand with inexpiable reprobation; it is the chief of all + the sins they see done under the sun. This is worth noting. We will not + enter here into the theological question about Idolatry. Idol is <i>Eidolon</i>, + a thing seen, a symbol. It is not God, but a Symbol of God; and perhaps + one may question whether any the most benighted mortal ever took it for + more than a Symbol. I fancy, he did not think that the poor image his own + hands had made <i>was</i> God; but that God was emblemed by it, that God + was in it some way or other. And now in this sense, one may ask, Is not + all worship whatsoever a worship by Symbols, by <i>eidola</i>, or things + seen? Whether <i>seen</i>, rendered visible as an image or picture to the + bodily eye; or visible only to the inward eye, to the imagination, to the + intellect: this makes a superficial, but no substantial difference. It is + still a Thing Seen, significant of Godhead; an Idol. The most rigorous + Puritan has his Confession of Faith, and intellectual Representation of + Divine things, and worships thereby; thereby is worship first made + possible for him. All creeds, liturgies, religious forms, conceptions that + fitly invest religious feelings, are in this sense <i>eidola</i>, things + seen. All worship whatsoever must proceed by Symbols, by Idols:—we + may say, all Idolatry is comparative, and the worst Idolatry is only <i>more</i> + idolatrous. + </p> + <p> + Where, then, lies the evil of it? Some fatal evil must lie in it, or + earnest prophetic men would not on all hands so reprobate it. Why is + Idolatry so hateful to Prophets? It seems to me as if, in the worship of + those poor wooden symbols, the thing that had chiefly provoked the + Prophet, and filled his inmost soul with indignation and aversion, was not + exactly what suggested itself to his own thought, and came out of him in + words to others, as the thing. The rudest heathen that worshipped Canopus, + or the Caabah Black-Stone, he, as we saw, was superior to the horse that + worshipped nothing at all! Nay there was a kind of lasting merit in that + poor act of his; analogous to what is still meritorious in Poets: + recognition of a certain endless <i>divine</i> beauty and significance in + stars and all natural objects whatsoever. Why should the Prophet so + mercilessly condemn him? The poorest mortal worshipping his Fetish, while + his heart is full of it, may be an object of pity, of contempt and + avoidance, if you will; but cannot surely be an object of hatred. Let his + heart <i>be</i> honestly full of it, the whole space of his dark narrow + mind illuminated thereby; in one word, let him entirely <i>believe</i> in + his Fetish,—it will then be, I should say, if not well with him, yet + as well as it can readily be made to be, and you will leave him alone, + unmolested there. + </p> + <p> + But here enters the fatal circumstance of Idolatry, that, in the era of + the Prophets, no man's mind <i>is</i> any longer honestly filled with his + Idol or Symbol. Before the Prophet can arise who, seeing through it, knows + it to be mere wood, many men must have begun dimly to doubt that it was + little more. Condemnable Idolatry is <i>insincere</i> Idolatry. Doubt has + eaten out the heart of it: a human soul is seen clinging spasmodically to + an Ark of the Covenant, which it half feels now to have become a Phantasm. + This is one of the balefulest sights. Souls are no longer filled with + their Fetish; but only pretend to be filled, and would fain make + themselves feel that they are filled. "You do not believe," said + Coleridge; "you only believe that you believe." It is the final scene in + all kinds of Worship and Symbolism; the sure symptom that death is now + nigh. It is equivalent to what we call Formulism, and Worship of Formulas, + in these days of ours. No more immoral act can be done by a human + creature; for it is the beginning of all immorality, or rather it is the + impossibility henceforth of any morality whatsoever: the innermost moral + soul is paralyzed thereby, cast into fatal magnetic sleep! Men are no + longer <i>sincere</i> men. I do not wonder that the earnest man denounces + this, brands it, prosecutes it with inextinguishable aversion. He and it, + all good and it, are at death-feud. Blamable Idolatry is <i>Cant</i>, and + even what one may call Sincere-Cant. Sincere-Cant: that is worth thinking + of! Every sort of Worship ends with this phasis. + </p> + <p> + I find Luther to have been a Breaker of Idols, no less than any other + Prophet. The wooden gods of the Koreish, made of timber and bees-wax, were + not more hateful to Mahomet than Tetzel's Pardons of Sin, made of + sheepskin and ink, were to Luther. It is the property of every Hero, in + every time, in every place and situation, that he come back to reality; + that he stand upon things, and not shows of things. According as he loves, + and venerates, articulately or with deep speechless thought, the awful + realities of things, so will the hollow shows of things, however regular, + decorous, accredited by Koreishes or Conclaves, be intolerable and + detestable to him. Protestantism, too, is the work of a Prophet: the + prophet-work of that sixteenth century. The first stroke of honest + demolition to an ancient thing grown false and idolatrous; preparatory + afar off to a new thing, which shall be true, and authentically divine! + </p> + <p> + At first view it might seem as if Protestantism were entirely destructive + to this that we call Hero-worship, and represent as the basis of all + possible good, religious or social, for mankind. One often hears it said + that Protestantism introduced a new era, radically different from any the + world had ever seen before: the era of "private judgment," as they call + it. By this revolt against the Pope, every man became his own Pope; and + learnt, among other things, that he must never trust any Pope, or + spiritual Hero-captain, any more! Whereby, is not spiritual union, all + hierarchy and subordination among men, henceforth an impossibility? So we + hear it said.—Now I need not deny that Protestantism was a revolt + against spiritual sovereignties, Popes and much else. Nay I will grant + that English Puritanism, revolt against earthly sovereignties, was the + second act of it; that the enormous French Revolution itself was the third + act, whereby all sovereignties earthly and spiritual were, as might seem, + abolished or made sure of abolition. Protestantism is the grand root from + which our whole subsequent European History branches out. For the + spiritual will always body itself forth in the temporal history of men; + the spiritual is the beginning of the temporal. And now, sure enough, the + cry is everywhere for Liberty and Equality, Independence and so forth; + instead of <i>Kings</i>, Ballot-boxes and Electoral suffrages: it seems + made out that any Hero-sovereign, or loyal obedience of men to a man, in + things temporal or things spiritual, has passed away forever from the + world. I should despair of the world altogether, if so. One of my deepest + convictions is, that it is not so. Without sovereigns, true sovereigns, + temporal and spiritual, I see nothing possible but an anarchy; the + hatefulest of things. But I find Protestantism, whatever anarchic + democracy it have produced, to be the beginning of new genuine sovereignty + and order. I find it to be a revolt against <i>false</i> sovereigns; the + painful but indispensable first preparative for <i>true</i> sovereigns + getting place among us! This is worth explaining a little. + </p> + <p> + Let us remark, therefore, in the first place, that this of "private + judgment" is, at bottom, not a new thing in the world, but only new at + that epoch of the world. There is nothing generically new or peculiar in + the Reformation; it was a return to Truth and Reality in opposition to + Falsehood and Semblance, as all kinds of Improvement and genuine Teaching + are and have been. Liberty of private judgment, if we will consider it, + must at all times have existed in the world. Dante had not put out his + eyes, or tied shackles on himself; he was at home in that Catholicism of + his, a free-seeing soul in it,—if many a poor Hogstraten, Tetzel, + and Dr. Eck had now become slaves in it. Liberty of judgment? No iron + chain, or outward force of any kind, could ever compel the soul of a man + to believe or to disbelieve: it is his own indefeasible light, that + judgment of his; he will reign, and believe there, by the grace of God + alone! The sorriest sophistical Bellarmine, preaching sightless faith and + passive obedience, must first, by some kind of <i>conviction</i>, have + abdicated his right to be convinced. His "private judgment" indicated + that, as the advisablest step <i>he</i> could take. The right of private + judgment will subsist, in full force, wherever true men subsist. A true + man <i>believes</i> with his whole judgment, with all the illumination and + discernment that is in him, and has always so believed. A false man, only + struggling to "believe that he believes," will naturally manage it in some + other way. Protestantism said to this latter, Woe! and to the former, Well + done! At bottom, it was no new saying; it was a return to all old sayings + that ever had been said. Be genuine, be sincere: that was, once more, the + meaning of it. Mahomet believed with his whole mind; Odin with his whole + mind,—he, and all <i>true</i> Followers of Odinism. They, by their + private judgment, had "judged "—<i>so</i>. + </p> + <p> + And now I venture to assert, that the exercise of private judgment, + faithfully gone about, does by no means necessarily end in selfish + independence, isolation; but rather ends necessarily in the opposite of + that. It is not honest inquiry that makes anarchy; but it is error, + insincerity, half-belief and untruth that make it. A man protesting + against error is on the way towards uniting himself with all men that + believe in truth. There is no communion possible among men who believe + only in hearsays. The heart of each is lying dead; has no power of + sympathy even with <i>things</i>,—or he would believe <i>them</i> + and not hearsays. No sympathy even with things; how much less with his + fellow-men! He cannot unite with men; he is an anarchic man. Only in a + world of sincere men is unity possible;—and there, in the long-run, + it is as good as <i>certain</i>. + </p> + <p> + For observe one thing, a thing too often left out of view, or rather + altogether lost sight of in this controversy: That it is not necessary a + man should himself have <i>discovered</i> the truth he is to believe in, + and never so <i>sincerely</i> to believe in. A Great Man, we said, was + always sincere, as the first condition of him. But a man need not be great + in order to be sincere; that is not the necessity of Nature and all Time, + but only of certain corrupt unfortunate epochs of Time. A man can believe, + and make his own, in the most genuine way, what he has received from + another;—and with boundless gratitude to that other! The merit of <i>originality</i> + is not novelty; it is sincerity. The believing man is the original man; + whatsoever he believes, he believes it for himself, not for another. Every + son of Adam can become a sincere man, an original man, in this sense; no + mortal is doomed to be an insincere man. Whole ages, what we call ages of + Faith, are original; all men in them, or the most of men in them, sincere. + These are the great and fruitful ages: every worker, in all spheres, is a + worker not on semblance but on substance; every work issues in a result: + the general sum of such work is great; for all of it, as genuine, tends + towards one goal; all of it is <i>additive</i>, none of it subtractive. + There is true union, true kingship, loyalty, all true and blessed things, + so far as the poor Earth can produce blessedness for men. + </p> + <p> + Hero-worship? Ah me, that a man be self-subsistent, original, true, or + what we call it, is surely the farthest in the world from indisposing him + to reverence and believe other men's truth! It only disposes, necessitates + and invincibly compels him to disbelieve other men's dead formulas, + hearsays and untruths. A man embraces truth with his eyes open, and + because his eyes are open: does he need to shut them before he can love + his Teacher of truth? He alone can love, with a right gratitude and + genuine loyalty of soul, the Hero-Teacher who has delivered him out of + darkness into light. Is not such a one a true Hero and Serpent-queller; + worthy of all reverence! The black monster, Falsehood, our one enemy in + this world, lies prostrate by his valor; it was he that conquered the + world for us!—See, accordingly, was not Luther himself reverenced as + a true Pope, or Spiritual Father, <i>being</i> verily such? Napoleon, from + amid boundless revolt of Sansculottism, became a King. Hero-worship never + dies, nor can die. Loyalty and Sovereignty are everlasting in the world:—and + there is this in them, that they are grounded not on garnitures and + semblances, but on realities and sincerities. Not by shutting your eyes, + your "private judgment;" no, but by opening them, and by having something + to see! Luther's message was deposition and abolition to all false Popes + and Potentates, but life and strength, though afar off, to new genuine + ones. + </p> + <p> + All this of Liberty and Equality, Electoral suffrages, Independence and so + forth, we will take, therefore, to be a temporary phenomenon, by no means + a final one. Though likely to last a long time, with sad enough + embroilments for us all, we must welcome it, as the penalty of sins that + are past, the pledge of inestimable benefits that are coming. In all ways, + it behooved men to quit simulacra and return to fact; cost what it might, + that did behoove to be done. With spurious Popes, and Believers having no + private judgment,—quacks pretending to command over dupes,—what + can you do? Misery and mischief only. You cannot make an association out + of insincere men; you cannot build an edifice except by plummet and level,—at + right-angles to one another! In all this wild revolutionary work, from + Protestantism downwards, I see the blessedest result preparing itself: not + abolition of Hero-worship, but rather what I would call a whole World of + Heroes. If Hero mean <i>sincere man</i>, why may not every one of us be a + Hero? A world all sincere, a believing world: the like has been; the like + will again be,—cannot help being. That were the right sort of + Worshippers for Heroes: never could the truly Better be so reverenced as + where all were True and Good!—But we must hasten to Luther and his + Life. + </p> + <p> + Luther's birthplace was Eisleben in Saxony; he came into the world there + on the 10th of November, 1483. It was an accident that gave this honor to + Eisleben. His parents, poor mine-laborers in a village of that region, + named Mohra, had gone to the Eisleben Winter-Fair: in the tumult of this + scene the Frau Luther was taken with travail, found refuge in some poor + house there, and the boy she bore was named MARTIN LUTHER. Strange enough + to reflect upon it. This poor Frau Luther, she had gone with her husband + to make her small merchandisings; perhaps to sell the lock of yarn she had + been spinning, to buy the small winter-necessaries for her narrow hut or + household; in the whole world, that day, there was not a more entirely + unimportant-looking pair of people than this Miner and his Wife. And yet + what were all Emperors, Popes and Potentates, in comparison? There was + born here, once more, a Mighty Man; whose light was to flame as the beacon + over long centuries and epochs of the world; the whole world and its + history was waiting for this man. It is strange, it is great. It leads us + back to another Birth-hour, in a still meaner environment, Eighteen + Hundred years ago,—of which it is fit that we <i>say</i> nothing, + that we think only in silence; for what words are there! The Age of + Miracles past? The Age of Miracles is forever here—! + </p> + <p> + I find it altogether suitable to Luther's function in this Earth, and + doubtless wisely ordered to that end by the Providence presiding over him + and us and all things, that he was born poor, and brought up poor, one of + the poorest of men. He had to beg, as the school-children in those times + did; singing for alms and bread, from door to door. Hardship, rigorous + Necessity was the poor boy's companion; no man nor no thing would put on a + false face to flatter Martin Luther. Among things, not among the shows of + things, had he to grow. A boy of rude figure, yet with weak health, with + his large greedy soul, full of all faculty and sensibility, he suffered + greatly. But it was his task to get acquainted with <i>realities</i>, and + keep acquainted with them, at whatever cost: his task was to bring the + whole world back to reality, for it had dwelt too long with semblance! A + youth nursed up in wintry whirlwinds, in desolate darkness and difficulty, + that he may step forth at last from his stormy Scandinavia, strong as a + true man, as a god: a Christian Odin,—a right Thor once more, with + his thunder-hammer, to smite asunder ugly enough <i>Jotuns</i> and + Giant-monsters! + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the turning incident of his life, we may fancy, was that death of + his friend Alexis, by lightning, at the gate of Erfurt. Luther had + struggled up through boyhood, better and worse; displaying, in spite of + all hindrances, the largest intellect, eager to learn: his father judging + doubtless that he might promote himself in the world, set him upon the + study of Law. This was the path to rise; Luther, with little will in it + either way, had consented: he was now nineteen years of age. Alexis and he + had been to see the old Luther people at Mansfeldt; were got back again + near Erfurt, when a thunder-storm came on; the bolt struck Alexis, he fell + dead at Luther's feet. What is this Life of ours?—gone in a moment, + burnt up like a scroll, into the blank Eternity! What are all earthly + preferments, Chancellorships, Kingships? They lie shrunk together—there! + The Earth has opened on them; in a moment they are not, and Eternity is. + Luther, struck to the heart, determined to devote himself to God and God's + service alone. In spite of all dissuasions from his father and others, he + became a Monk in the Augustine Convent at Erfurt. + </p> + <p> + This was probably the first light-point in the history of Luther, his + purer will now first decisively uttering itself; but, for the present, it + was still as one light-point in an element all of darkness. He says he was + a pious monk, <i>ich bin ein frommer Monch gewesen</i>; faithfully, + painfully struggling to work out the truth of this high act of his; but it + was to little purpose. His misery had not lessened; had rather, as it + were, increased into infinitude. The drudgeries he had to do, as novice in + his Convent, all sorts of slave-work, were not his grievance: the deep + earnest soul of the man had fallen into all manner of black scruples, + dubitations; he believed himself likely to die soon, and far worse than + die. One hears with a new interest for poor Luther that, at this time, he + lived in terror of the unspeakable misery; fancied that he was doomed to + eternal reprobation. Was it not the humble sincere nature of the man? What + was he, that he should be raised to Heaven! He that had known only misery, + and mean slavery: the news was too blessed to be credible. It could not + become clear to him how, by fasts, vigils, formalities and mass-work, a + man's soul could be saved. He fell into the blackest wretchedness; had to + wander staggering as on the verge of bottomless Despair. + </p> + <p> + It must have been a most blessed discovery, that of an old Latin Bible + which he found in the Erfurt Library about this time. He had never seen + the Book before. It taught him another lesson than that of fasts and + vigils. A brother monk too, of pious experience, was helpful. Luther + learned now that a man was saved not by singing masses, but by the + infinite grace of God: a more credible hypothesis. He gradually got + himself founded, as on the rock. No wonder he should venerate the Bible, + which had brought this blessed help to him. He prized it as the Word of + the Highest must be prized by such a man. He determined to hold by that; + as through life and to death he firmly did. + </p> + <p> + This, then, is his deliverance from darkness, his final triumph over + darkness, what we call his conversion; for himself the most important of + all epochs. That he should now grow daily in peace and clearness; that, + unfolding now the great talents and virtues implanted in him, he should + rise to importance in his Convent, in his country, and be found more and + more useful in all honest business of life, is a natural result. He was + sent on missions by his Augustine Order, as a man of talent and fidelity + fit to do their business well: the Elector of Saxony, Friedrich, named the + Wise, a truly wise and just prince, had cast his eye on him as a valuable + person; made him Professor in his new University of Wittenberg, Preacher + too at Wittenberg; in both which capacities, as in all duties he did, this + Luther, in the peaceable sphere of common life, was gaining more and more + esteem with all good men. + </p> + <p> + It was in his twenty-seventh year that he first saw Rome; being sent + thither, as I said, on mission from his Convent. Pope Julius the Second, + and what was going on at Rome, must have filled the mind of Luther with + amazement. He had come as to the Sacred City, throne of God's High-priest + on Earth; and he found it—what we know! Many thoughts it must have + given the man; many which we have no record of, which perhaps he did not + himself know how to utter. This Rome, this scene of false priests, clothed + not in the beauty of holiness, but in far other vesture, is <i>false</i>: + but what is it to Luther? A mean man he, how shall he reform a world? That + was far from his thoughts. A humble, solitary man, why should he at all + meddle with the world? It was the task of quite higher men than he. His + business was to guide his own footsteps wisely through the world. Let him + do his own obscure duty in it well; the rest, horrible and dismal as it + looks, is in God's hand, not in his. + </p> + <p> + It is curious to reflect what might have been the issue, had Roman Popery + happened to pass this Luther by; to go on in its great wasteful orbit, and + not come athwart his little path, and force him to assault it! Conceivable + enough that, in this case, he might have held his peace about the abuses + of Rome; left Providence, and God on high, to deal with them! A modest + quiet man; not prompt he to attack irreverently persons in authority. His + clear task, as I say, was to do his own duty; to walk wisely in this world + of confused wickedness, and save his own soul alive. But the Roman + High-priesthood did come athwart him: afar off at Wittenberg he, Luther, + could not get lived in honesty for it; he remonstrated, resisted, came to + extremity; was struck at, struck again, and so it came to wager of battle + between them! This is worth attending to in Luther's history. Perhaps no + man of so humble, peaceable a disposition ever filled the world with + contention. We cannot but see that he would have loved privacy, quiet + diligence in the shade; that it was against his will he ever became a + notoriety. Notoriety: what would that do for him? The goal of his march + through this world was the Infinite Heaven; an indubitable goal for him: + in a few years, he should either have attained that, or lost it forever! + We will say nothing at all, I think, of that sorrowfulest of theories, of + its being some mean shopkeeper grudge, of the Augustine Monk against the + Dominican, that first kindled the wrath of Luther, and produced the + Protestant Reformation. We will say to the people who maintain it, if + indeed any such exist now: Get first into the sphere of thought by which + it is so much as possible to judge of Luther, or of any man like Luther, + otherwise than distractedly; we may then begin arguing with you. + </p> + <p> + The Monk Tetzel, sent out carelessly in the way of trade, by Leo Tenth,—who + merely wanted to raise a little money, and for the rest seems to have been + a Pagan rather than a Christian, so far as he was anything,—arrived + at Wittenberg, and drove his scandalous trade there. Luther's flock bought + Indulgences; in the confessional of his Church, people pleaded to him that + they had already got their sins pardoned. Luther, if he would not be found + wanting at his own post, a false sluggard and coward at the very centre of + the little space of ground that was his own and no other man's, had to + step forth against Indulgences, and declare aloud that <i>they</i> were a + futility and sorrowful mockery, that no man's sins could be pardoned by <i>them</i>. + It was the beginning of the whole Reformation. We know how it went; + forward from this first public challenge of Tetzel, on the last day of + October, 1517, through remonstrance and argument;—spreading ever + wider, rising ever higher; till it became unquenchable, and enveloped all + the world. Luther's heart's desire was to have this grief and other griefs + amended; his thought was still far other than that of introducing + separation in the Church, or revolting against the Pope, Father of + Christendom.—The elegant Pagan Pope cared little about this Monk and + his doctrines; wished, however, to have done with the noise of him: in a + space of some three years, having tried various softer methods, he thought + good to end it by <i>fire</i>. He dooms the Monk's writings to be burnt by + the hangman, and his body to be sent bound to Rome,—probably for a + similar purpose. It was the way they had ended with Huss, with Jerome, the + century before. A short argument, fire. Poor Huss: he came to that + Constance Council, with all imaginable promises and safe-conducts; an + earnest, not rebellious kind of man: they laid him instantly in a stone + dungeon "three feet wide, six feet high, seven feet long;" <i>burnt</i> + the true voice of him out of this world; choked it in smoke and fire. That + was <i>not</i> well done! + </p> + <p> + I, for one, pardon Luther for now altogether revolting against the Pope. + The elegant Pagan, by this fire-decree of his, had kindled into noble just + wrath the bravest heart then living in this world. The bravest, if also + one of the humblest, peaceablest; it was now kindled. These words of mine, + words of truth and soberness, aiming faithfully, as human inability would + allow, to promote God's truth on Earth, and save men's souls, you, God's + vicegerent on earth, answer them by the hangman and fire? You will burn me + and them, for answer to the God's-message they strove to bring you? You + are not God's vicegerent; you are another's than his, I think! I take your + Bull, as an emparchmented Lie, and burn <i>it</i>. <i>You</i> will do what + you see good next: this is what I do.—It was on the 10th of + December, 1520, three years after the beginning of the business, that + Luther, "with a great concourse of people," took this indignant step of + burning the Pope's fire-decree "at the Elster-Gate of Wittenberg." + Wittenberg looked on "with shoutings;" the whole world was looking on. The + Pope should not have provoked that "shout"! It was the shout of the + awakening of nations. The quiet German heart, modest, patient of much, had + at length got more than it could bear. Formulism, Pagan Popeism, and other + Falsehood and corrupt Semblance had ruled long enough: and here once more + was a man found who durst tell all men that God's-world stood not on + semblances but on realities; that Life was a truth, and not a lie! + </p> + <p> + At bottom, as was said above, we are to consider Luther as a Prophet + Idol-breaker; a bringer-back of men to reality. It is the function of + great men and teachers. Mahomet said, These idols of yours are wood; you + put wax and oil on them, the flies stick on them: they are not God, I tell + you, they are black wood! Luther said to the Pope, This thing of yours + that you call a Pardon of Sins, it is a bit of rag-paper with ink. It is + nothing else; it, and so much like it, is nothing else. God alone can + pardon sins. Popeship, spiritual Fatherhood of God's Church, is that a + vain semblance, of cloth and parchment? It is an awful fact. God's Church + is not a semblance, Heaven and Hell are not semblances. I stand on this, + since you drive me to it. Standing on this, I a poor German Monk am + stronger than you all. I stand solitary, friendless, but on God's Truth; + you with your tiaras, triple-hats, with your treasuries and armories, + thunders spiritual and temporal, stand on the Devil's Lie, and are not so + strong—! + </p> + <p> + The Diet of Worms, Luther's appearance there on the 17th of April, 1521, + may be considered as the greatest scene in Modern European History; the + point, indeed, from which the whole subsequent history of civilization + takes its rise. After multiplied negotiations, disputations, it had come + to this. The young Emperor Charles Fifth, with all the Princes of Germany, + Papal nuncios, dignitaries spiritual and temporal, are assembled there: + Luther is to appear and answer for himself, whether he will recant or not. + The world's pomp and power sits there on this hand: on that, stands up for + God's Truth, one man, the poor miner Hans Luther's Son. Friends had + reminded him of Huss, advised him not to go; he would not be advised. A + large company of friends rode out to meet him, with still more earnest + warnings; he answered, "Were there as many Devils in Worms as there are + roof-tiles, I would on." The people, on the morrow, as he went to the Hall + of the Diet, crowded the windows and house-tops, some of them calling out + to him, in solemn words, not to recant: "Whosoever denieth me before men!" + they cried to him,—as in a kind of solemn petition and adjuration. + Was it not in reality our petition too, the petition of the whole world, + lying in dark bondage of soul, paralyzed under a black spectral Nightmare + and triple-hatted Chimera, calling itself Father in God, and what not: + "Free us; it rests with thee; desert us not!" + </p> + <p> + Luther did not desert us. His speech, of two hours, distinguished itself + by its respectful, wise and honest tone; submissive to whatsoever could + lawfully claim submission, not submissive to any more than that. His + writings, he said, were partly his own, partly derived from the Word of + God. As to what was his own, human infirmity entered into it; unguarded + anger, blindness, many things doubtless which it were a blessing for him + could he abolish altogether. But as to what stood on sound truth and the + Word of God, he could not recant it. How could he? "Confute me," he + concluded, "by proofs of Scripture, or else by plain just arguments: I + cannot recant otherwise. For it is neither safe nor prudent to do aught + against conscience. Here stand I; I can do no other: God assist me!"—It + is, as we say, the greatest moment in the Modern History of Men. English + Puritanism, England and its Parliaments, Americas, and vast work these two + centuries; French Revolution, Europe and its work everywhere at present: + the germ of it all lay there: had Luther in that moment done other, it had + all been otherwise! The European World was asking him: Am I to sink ever + lower into falsehood, stagnant putrescence, loathsome accursed death; or, + with whatever paroxysm, to cast the falsehoods out of me, and be cured and + live?— + </p> + <p> + Great wars, contentions and disunion followed out of this Reformation; + which last down to our day, and are yet far from ended. Great talk and + crimination has been made about these. They are lamentable, undeniable; + but after all, what has Luther or his cause to do with them? It seems + strange reasoning to charge the Reformation with all this. When Hercules + turned the purifying river into King Augeas's stables, I have no doubt the + confusion that resulted was considerable all around: but I think it was + not Hercules's blame; it was some other's blame! The Reformation might + bring what results it liked when it came, but the Reformation simply could + not help coming. To all Popes and Popes' advocates, expostulating, + lamenting and accusing, the answer of the world is: Once for all, your + Popehood has become untrue. No matter how good it was, how good you say it + is, we cannot believe it; the light of our whole mind, given us to walk by + from Heaven above, finds it henceforth a thing unbelievable. We will not + believe it, we will not try to believe it,—we dare not! The thing is + <i>untrue</i>; we were traitors against the Giver of all Truth, if we + durst pretend to think it true. Away with it; let whatsoever likes come in + the place of it: with <i>it</i> we can have no farther trade!—Luther + and his Protestantism is not responsible for wars; the false Simulacra + that forced him to protest, they are responsible. Luther did what every + man that God has made has not only the right, but lies under the sacred + duty, to do: answered a Falsehood when it questioned him, Dost thou + believe me?—No!—At what cost soever, without counting of + costs, this thing behooved to be done. Union, organization spiritual and + material, a far nobler than any Popedom or Feudalism in their truest days, + I never doubt, is coming for the world; sure to come. But on Fact alone, + not on Semblance and Simulacrum, will it be able either to come, or to + stand when come. With union grounded on falsehood, and ordering us to + speak and act lies, we will not have anything to do. Peace? A brutal + lethargy is peaceable, the noisome grave is peaceable. We hope for a + living peace, not a dead one! + </p> + <p> + And yet, in prizing justly the indispensable blessings of the New, let us + not be unjust to the Old. The Old was true, if it no longer is. In Dante's + days it needed no sophistry, self-blinding or other dishonesty, to get + itself reckoned true. It was good then; nay there is in the soul of it a + deathless good. The cry of "No Popery" is foolish enough in these days. + The speculation that Popery is on the increase, building new chapels and + so forth, may pass for one of the idlest ever started. Very curious: to + count up a few Popish chapels, listen to a few Protestant logic-choppings,—to + much dull-droning drowsy inanity that still calls itself Protestant, and + say: See, Protestantism is <i>dead</i>; Popeism is more alive than it, + will be alive after it!—Drowsy inanities, not a few, that call + themselves Protestant are dead; but <i>Protestantism</i> has not died yet, + that I hear of! Protestantism, if we will look, has in these days produced + its Goethe, its Napoleon; German Literature and the French Revolution; + rather considerable signs of life! Nay, at bottom, what else is alive <i>but</i> + Protestantism? The life of most else that one meets is a galvanic one + merely,—not a pleasant, not a lasting sort of life! + </p> + <p> + Popery can build new chapels; welcome to do so, to all lengths. Popery + cannot come back, any more than Paganism can,—<i>which</i> also + still lingers in some countries. But, indeed, it is with these things, as + with the ebbing of the sea: you look at the waves oscillating hither, + thither on the beach; for <i>minutes</i> you cannot tell how it is going; + look in half an hour where it is,—look in half a century where your + Popehood is! Alas, would there were no greater danger to our Europe than + the poor old Pope's revival! Thor may as soon try to revive.—And + withal this oscillation has a meaning. The poor old Popehood will not die + away entirely, as Thor has done, for some time yet; nor ought it. We may + say, the Old never dies till this happen, Till all the soul of good that + was in it have got itself transfused into the practical New. While a good + work remains capable of being done by the Romish form; or, what is + inclusive of all, while a pious <i>life</i> remains capable of being led + by it, just so long, if we consider, will this or the other human soul + adopt it, go about as a living witness of it. So long it will obtrude + itself on the eye of us who reject it, till we in our practice too have + appropriated whatsoever of truth was in it. Then, but also not till then, + it will have no charm more for any man. It lasts here for a purpose. Let + it last as long as it can.— + </p> + <p> + Of Luther I will add now, in reference to all these wars and bloodshed, + the noticeable fact that none of them began so long as he continued + living. The controversy did not get to fighting so long as he was there. + To me it is proof of his greatness in all senses, this fact. How seldom do + we find a man that has stirred up some vast commotion, who does not + himself perish, swept away in it! Such is the usual course of + revolutionists. Luther continued, in a good degree, sovereign of this + greatest revolution; all Protestants, of what rank or function soever, + looking much to him for guidance: and he held it peaceable, continued firm + at the centre of it. A man to do this must have a kingly faculty: he must + have the gift to discern at all turns where the true heart of the matter + lies, and to plant himself courageously on that, as a strong true man, + that other true men may rally round him there. He will not continue leader + of men otherwise. Luther's clear deep force of judgment, his force of all + sorts, of <i>silence</i>, of tolerance and moderation, among others, are + very notable in these circumstances. + </p> + <p> + Tolerance, I say; a very genuine kind of tolerance: he distinguishes what + is essential, and what is not; the unessential may go very much as it + will. A complaint comes to him that such and such a Reformed Preacher + "will not preach without a cassock." Well, answers Luther, what harm will + a cassock do the man? "Let him have a cassock to preach in; let him have + three cassocks if he find benefit in them!" His conduct in the matter of + Karlstadt's wild image-breaking; of the Anabaptists; of the Peasants' War, + shows a noble strength, very different from spasmodic violence. With sure + prompt insight he discriminates what is what: a strong just man, he speaks + forth what is the wise course, and all men follow him in that. Luther's + Written Works give similar testimony of him. The dialect of these + speculations is now grown obsolete for us; but one still reads them with a + singular attraction. And indeed the mere grammatical diction is still + legible enough; Luther's merit in literary history is of the greatest: his + dialect became the language of all writing. They are not well written, + these Four-and-twenty Quartos of his; written hastily, with quite other + than literary objects. But in no Books have I found a more robust, + genuine, I will say noble faculty of a man than in these. A rugged + honesty, homeliness, simplicity; a rugged sterling sense and strength. He + dashes out illumination from him; his smiting idiomatic phrases seem to + cleave into the very secret of the matter. Good humor too, nay tender + affection, nobleness and depth: this man could have been a Poet too! He + had to <i>work</i> an Epic Poem, not write one. I call him a great + Thinker; as indeed his greatness of heart already betokens that. + </p> + <p> + Richter says of Luther's words, "His words are half-battles." They may be + called so. The essential quality of him was, that he could fight and + conquer; that he was a right piece of human Valor. No more valiant man, no + mortal heart to be called <i>braver</i>, that one has record of, ever + lived in that Teutonic Kindred, whose character is valor. His defiance of + the "Devils" in Worms was not a mere boast, as the like might be if now + spoken. It was a faith of Luther's that there were Devils, spiritual + denizens of the Pit, continually besetting men. Many times, in his + writings, this turns up; and a most small sneer has been grounded on it by + some. In the room of the Wartburg where he sat translating the Bible, they + still show you a black spot on the wall; the strange memorial of one of + these conflicts. Luther sat translating one of the Psalms; he was worn + down with long labor, with sickness, abstinence from food: there rose + before him some hideous indefinable Image, which he took for the Evil One, + to forbid his work: Luther started up, with fiend-defiance; flung his + inkstand at the spectre, and it disappeared! The spot still remains there; + a curious monument of several things. Any apothecary's apprentice can now + tell us what we are to think of this apparition, in a scientific sense: + but the man's heart that dare rise defiant, face to face, against Hell + itself, can give no higher proof of fearlessness. The thing he will quail + before exists not on this Earth or under it.—Fearless enough! "The + Devil is aware," writes he on one occasion, "that this does not proceed + out of fear in me. I have seen and defied innumerable Devils. Duke + George," of Leipzig, a great enemy of his, "Duke George is not equal to + one Devil,"—far short of a Devil! "If I had business at Leipzig, I + would ride into Leipzig, though it rained Duke Georges for nine days + running." What a reservoir of Dukes to ride into—! + </p> + <p> + At the same time, they err greatly who imagine that this man's courage was + ferocity, mere coarse disobedient obstinacy and savagery, as many do. Far + from that. There may be an absence of fear which arises from the absence + of thought or affection, from the presence of hatred and stupid fury. We + do not value the courage of the tiger highly! With Luther it was far + otherwise; no accusation could be more unjust than this of mere ferocious + violence brought against him. A most gentle heart withal, full of pity and + love, as indeed the truly valiant heart ever is. The tiger before a <i>stronger</i> + foe—flies: the tiger is not what we call valiant, only fierce and + cruel. I know few things more touching than those soft breathings of + affection, soft as a child's or a mother's, in this great wild heart of + Luther. So honest, unadulterated with any cant; homely, rude in their + utterance; pure as water welling from the rock. What, in fact, was all + that down-pressed mood of despair and reprobation, which we saw in his + youth, but the outcome of pre-eminent thoughtful gentleness, affections + too keen and fine? It is the course such men as the poor Poet Cowper fall + into. Luther to a slight observer might have seemed a timid, weak man; + modesty, affectionate shrinking tenderness the chief distinction of him. + It is a noble valor which is roused in a heart like this, once stirred up + into defiance, all kindled into a heavenly blaze. + </p> + <p> + In Luther's <i>Table-Talk</i>, a posthumous Book of anecdotes and sayings + collected by his friends, the most interesting now of all the Books + proceeding from him, we have many beautiful unconscious displays of the + man, and what sort of nature he had. His behavior at the death-bed of his + little Daughter, so still, so great and loving, is among the most + affecting things. He is resigned that his little Magdalene should die, yet + longs inexpressibly that she might live;—follows, in awe-struck + thought, the flight of her little soul through those unknown realms. + Awe-struck; most heartfelt, we can see; and sincere,—for after all + dogmatic creeds and articles, he feels what nothing it is that we know, or + can know: His little Magdalene shall be with God, as God wills; for Luther + too that is all; <i>Islam</i> is all. + </p> + <p> + Once, he looks out from his solitary Patmos, the Castle of Coburg, in the + middle of the night: The great vault of Immensity, long flights of clouds + sailing through it,—dumb, gaunt, huge:—who supports all that? + "None ever saw the pillars of it; yet it is supported." God supports it. + We must know that God is great, that God is good; and trust, where we + cannot see.—Returning home from Leipzig once, he is struck by the + beauty of the harvest-fields: How it stands, that golden yellow corn, on + its fair taper stem, its golden head bent, all rich and waving there,—the + meek Earth, at God's kind bidding, has produced it once again; the bread + of man!—In the garden at Wittenberg one evening at sunset, a little + bird has perched for the night: That little bird, says Luther, above it + are the stars and deep Heaven of worlds; yet it has folded its little + wings; gone trustfully to rest there as in its home: the Maker of it has + given it too a home!—Neither are mirthful turns wanting: there is a + great free human heart in this man. The common speech of him has a rugged + nobleness, idiomatic, expressive, genuine; gleams here and there with + beautiful poetic tints. One feels him to be a great brother man. His love + of Music, indeed, is not this, as it were, the summary of all these + affections in him? Many a wild unutterability he spoke forth from him in + the tones of his flute. The Devils fled from his flute, he says. + Death-defiance on the one hand, and such love of music on the other; I + could call these the two opposite poles of a great soul; between these two + all great things had room. + </p> + <p> + Luther's face is to me expressive of him; in Kranach's best portraits I + find the true Luther. A rude plebeian face; with its huge crag-like brows + and bones, the emblem of rugged energy; at first, almost a repulsive face. + Yet in the eyes especially there is a wild silent sorrow; an unnamable + melancholy, the element of all gentle and fine affections; giving to the + rest the true stamp of nobleness. Laughter was in this Luther, as we said; + but tears also were there. Tears also were appointed him; tears and hard + toil. The basis of his life was Sadness, Earnestness. In his latter days, + after all triumphs and victories, he expresses himself heartily weary of + living; he considers that God alone can and will regulate the course + things are taking, and that perhaps the Day of Judgment is not far. As for + him, he longs for one thing: that God would release him from his labor, + and let him depart and be at rest. They understand little of the man who + cite this in discredit of him!—I will call this Luther a true Great + Man; great in intellect, in courage, affection and integrity; one of our + most lovable and precious men. Great, not as a hewn obelisk; but as an + Alpine mountain,—so simple, honest, spontaneous, not setting up to + be great at all; there for quite another purpose than being great! Ah yes, + unsubduable granite, piercing far and wide into the Heavens; yet in the + clefts of it fountains, green beautiful valleys with flowers! A right + Spiritual Hero and Prophet; once more, a true Son of Nature and Fact, for + whom these centuries, and many that are to come yet, will be thankful to + Heaven. + </p> + <p> + The most interesting phasis which the Reformation anywhere assumes, + especially for us English, is that of Puritanism. In Luther's own country + Protestantism soon dwindled into a rather barren affair: not a religion or + faith, but rather now a theological jangling of argument, the proper seat + of it not the heart; the essence of it sceptical contention: which indeed + has jangled more and more, down to Voltaireism itself,—through + Gustavus-Adolphus contentions onwards to French-Revolution ones! But in + our Island there arose a Puritanism, which even got itself established as + a Presbyterianism and National Church among the Scotch; which came forth + as a real business of the heart; and has produced in the world very + notable fruit. In some senses, one may say it is the only phasis of + Protestantism that ever got to the rank of being a Faith, a true + heart-communication with Heaven, and of exhibiting itself in History as + such. We must spare a few words for Knox; himself a brave and remarkable + man; but still more important as Chief Priest and Founder, which one may + consider him to be, of the Faith that became Scotland's, New England's, + Oliver Cromwell's. History will have something to say about this, for some + time to come! + </p> + <p> + We may censure Puritanism as we please; and no one of us, I suppose, but + would find it a very rough defective thing. But we, and all men, may + understand that it was a genuine thing; for Nature has adopted it, and it + has grown, and grows. I say sometimes, that all goes by wager-of-battle in + this world; that <i>strength</i>, well understood, is the measure of all + worth. Give a thing time; if it can succeed, it is a right thing. Look now + at American Saxondom; and at that little Fact of the sailing of the + Mayflower, two hundred years ago, from Delft Haven in Holland! Were we of + open sense as the Greeks were, we had found a Poem here; one of Nature's + own Poems, such as she writes in broad facts over great continents. For it + was properly the beginning of America: there were straggling settlers in + America before, some material as of a body was there; but the soul of it + was first this. These poor men, driven out of their own country, not able + well to live in Holland, determine on settling in the New World. Black + untamed forests are there, and wild savage creatures; but not so cruel as + Star-chamber hangmen. They thought the Earth would yield them food, if + they tilled honestly; the everlasting heaven would stretch, there too, + overhead; they should be left in peace, to prepare for Eternity by living + well in this world of Time; worshipping in what they thought the true, not + the idolatrous way. They clubbed their small means together; hired a ship, + the little ship Mayflower, and made ready to set sail. + </p> + <p> + In Neal's <i>History of the Puritans</i> [Neal (London, 1755), i. 490] is + an account of the ceremony of their departure: solemnity, we might call it + rather, for it was a real act of worship. Their minister went down with + them to the beach, and their brethren whom they were to leave behind; all + joined in solemn prayer, That God would have pity on His poor children, + and go with them into that waste wilderness, for He also had made that, He + was there also as well as here.—Hah! These men, I think, had a work! + The weak thing, weaker than a child, becomes strong one day, if it be a + true thing. Puritanism was only despicable, laughable then; but nobody can + manage to laugh at it now. Puritanism has got weapons and sinews; it has + firearms, war-navies; it has cunning in its ten fingers, strength in its + right arm; it can steer ships, fell forests, remove mountains;—it is + one of the strongest things under this sun at present! + </p> + <p> + In the history of Scotland, too, I can find properly but one epoch: we may + say, it contains nothing of world-interest at all but this Reformation by + Knox. A poor barren country, full of continual broils, dissensions, + massacrings; a people in the last state of rudeness and destitution; + little better perhaps than Ireland at this day. Hungry fierce barons, not + so much as able to form any arrangement with each other <i>how to divide</i> + what they fleeced from these poor drudges; but obliged, as the Colombian + Republics are at this day, to make of every alteration a revolution; no + way of changing a ministry but by hanging the old ministers on gibbets: + this is a historical spectacle of no very singular significance! "Bravery" + enough, I doubt not; fierce fighting in abundance: but not braver or + fiercer than that of their old Scandinavian Sea-king ancestors; <i>whose</i> + exploits we have not found worth dwelling on! It is a country as yet + without a soul: nothing developed in it but what is rude, external, + semi-animal. And now at the Reformation, the internal life is kindled, as + it were, under the ribs of this outward material death. A cause, the + noblest of causes kindles itself, like a beacon set on high; high as + Heaven, yet attainable from Earth;—whereby the meanest man becomes + not a Citizen only, but a Member of Christ's visible Church; a veritable + Hero, if he prove a true man! + </p> + <p> + Well; this is what I mean by a whole "nation of heroes;" a <i>believing</i> + nation. There needs not a great soul to make a hero; there needs a + god-created soul which will be true to its origin; that will be a great + soul! The like has been seen, we find. The like will be again seen, under + wider forms than the Presbyterian: there can be no lasting good done till + then.—Impossible! say some. Possible? Has it not <i>been</i>, in + this world, as a practiced fact? Did Hero-worship fail in Knox's case? Or + are we made of other clay now? Did the Westminster Confession of Faith add + some new property to the soul of man? God made the soul of man. He did not + doom any soul of man to live as a Hypothesis and Hearsay, in a world + filled with such, and with the fatal work and fruit of such—! + </p> + <p> + But to return: This that Knox did for his Nation, I say, we may really + call a resurrection as from death. It was not a smooth business; but it + was welcome surely, and cheap at that price, had it been far rougher. On + the whole, cheap at any price!—as life is. The people began to <i>live</i>: + they needed first of all to do that, at what cost and costs soever. Scotch + Literature and Thought, Scotch Industry; James Watt, David Hume, Walter + Scott, Robert Burns: I find Knox and the Reformation acting in the heart's + core of every one of these persons and phenomena; I find that without the + Reformation they would not have been. Or what of Scotland? The Puritanism + of Scotland became that of England, of New England. A tumult in the High + Church of Edinburgh spread into a universal battle and struggle over all + these realms;—there came out, after fifty years' struggling, what we + all call the "<i>Glorious</i> Revolution" a <i>Habeas Corpus</i> Act, Free + Parliaments, and much else!—Alas, is it not too true what we said, + That many men in the van do always, like Russian soldiers, march into the + ditch of Schweidnitz, and fill it up with their dead bodies, that the rear + may pass over them dry-shod, and gain the honor? How many earnest rugged + Cromwells, Knoxes, poor Peasant Covenanters, wrestling, battling for very + life, in rough miry places, have to struggle, and suffer, and fall, + greatly censured, <i>bemired</i>,—before a beautiful Revolution of + Eighty-eight can step over them in official pumps and silk-stockings, with + universal three-times-three! + </p> + <p> + It seems to me hard measure that this Scottish man, now after three + hundred years, should have to plead like a culprit before the world; + intrinsically for having been, in such way as it was then possible to be, + the bravest of all Scotchmen! Had he been a poor Half-and-half, he could + have crouched into the corner, like so many others; Scotland had not been + delivered; and Knox had been without blame. He is the one Scotchman to + whom, of all others, his country and the world owe a debt. He has to plead + that Scotland would forgive him for having been worth to it any million + "unblamable" Scotchmen that need no forgiveness! He bared his breast to + the battle; had to row in French galleys, wander forlorn in exile, in + clouds and storms; was censured, shot at through his windows; had a right + sore fighting life: if this world were his place of recompense, he had + made but a bad venture of it. I cannot apologize for Knox. To him it is + very indifferent, these two hundred and fifty years or more, what men say + of him. But we, having got above all those details of his battle, and + living now in clearness on the fruits of his victory, we, for our own + sake, ought to look through the rumors and controversies enveloping the + man, into the man himself. + </p> + <p> + For one thing, I will remark that this post of Prophet to his Nation was + not of his seeking; Knox had lived forty years quietly obscure, before he + became conspicuous. He was the son of poor parents; had got a college + education; become a Priest; adopted the Reformation, and seemed well + content to guide his own steps by the light of it, nowise unduly intruding + it on others. He had lived as Tutor in gentlemen's families; preaching + when any body of persons wished to hear his doctrine: resolute he to walk + by the truth, and speak the truth when called to do it; not ambitious of + more; not fancying himself capable of more. In this entirely obscure way + he had reached the age of forty; was with the small body of Reformers who + were standing siege in St. Andrew's Castle,—when one day in their + chapel, the Preacher after finishing his exhortation to these fighters in + the forlorn hope, said suddenly, That there ought to be other speakers, + that all men who had a priest's heart and gift in them ought now to speak;—which + gifts and heart one of their own number, John Knox the name of him, had: + Had he not? said the Preacher, appealing to all the audience: what then is + <i>his</i> duty? The people answered affirmatively; it was a criminal + forsaking of his post, if such a man held the word that was in him silent. + Poor Knox was obliged to stand up; he attempted to reply; he could say no + word;—burst into a flood of tears, and ran out. It is worth + remembering, that scene. He was in grievous trouble for some days. He felt + what a small faculty was his for this great work. He felt what a baptism + he was called to be baptized withal. He "burst into tears." + </p> + <p> + Our primary characteristic of a Hero, that he is sincere, applies + emphatically to Knox. It is not denied anywhere that this, whatever might + be his other qualities or faults, is among the truest of men. With a + singular instinct he holds to the truth and fact; the truth alone is there + for him, the rest a mere shadow and deceptive nonentity. However feeble, + forlorn the reality may seem, on that and that only <i>can</i> he take his + stand. In the Galleys of the River Loire, whither Knox and the others, + after their Castle of St. Andrew's was taken, had been sent as + Galley-slaves,—some officer or priest, one day, presented them an + Image of the Virgin Mother, requiring that they, the blasphemous heretics, + should do it reverence. Mother? Mother of God? said Knox, when the turn + came to him: This is no Mother of God: this is "<i>a pented bredd</i>,"—<i>a</i> + piece of wood, I tell you, with paint on it! She is fitter for swimming, I + think, than for being worshipped, added Knox; and flung the thing into the + river. It was not very cheap jesting there: but come of it what might, + this thing to Knox was and must continue nothing other than the real + truth; it was a <i>pented bredd</i>: worship it he would not. + </p> + <p> + He told his fellow-prisoners, in this darkest time, to be of courage; the + Cause they had was the true one, and must and would prosper; the whole + world could not put it down. Reality is of God's making; it is alone + strong. How many <i>pented bredds</i>, pretending to be real, are fitter + to swim than to be worshipped!—This Knox cannot live but by fact: he + clings to reality as the shipwrecked sailor to the cliff. He is an + instance to us how a man, by sincerity itself, becomes heroic: it is the + grand gift he has. We find in Knox a good honest intellectual talent, no + transcendent one;—a narrow, inconsiderable man, as compared with + Luther: but in heartfelt instinctive adherence to truth, in <i>sincerity</i>, + as we say, he has no superior; nay, one might ask, What equal he has? The + heart of him is of the true Prophet cast. "He lies there," said the Earl + of Morton at his grave, "who never feared the face of man." He resembles, + more than any of the moderns, an Old-Hebrew Prophet. The same + inflexibility, intolerance, rigid narrow-looking adherence to God's truth, + stern rebuke in the name of God to all that forsake truth: an Old-Hebrew + Prophet in the guise of an Edinburgh Minister of the Sixteenth Century. We + are to take him for that; not require him to be other. + </p> + <p> + Knox's conduct to Queen Mary, the harsh visits he used to make in her own + palace, to reprove her there, have been much commented upon. Such cruelty, + such coarseness fills us with indignation. On reading the actual narrative + of the business, what Knox said, and what Knox meant, I must say one's + tragic feeling is rather disappointed. They are not so coarse, these + speeches; they seem to me about as fine as the circumstances would permit! + Knox was not there to do the courtier; he came on another errand. Whoever, + reading these colloquies of his with the Queen, thinks they are vulgar + insolences of a plebeian priest to a delicate high lady, mistakes the + purport and essence of them altogether. It was unfortunately not possible + to be polite with the Queen of Scotland, unless one proved untrue to the + Nation and Cause of Scotland. A man who did not wish to see the land of + his birth made a hunting-field for intriguing ambitious Guises, and the + Cause of God trampled underfoot of Falsehoods, Formulas and the Devil's + Cause, had no method of making himself agreeable! "Better that women + weep," said Morton, "than that bearded men be forced to weep." Knox was + the constitutional opposition-party in Scotland: the Nobles of the + country, called by their station to take that post, were not found in it; + Knox had to go, or no one. The hapless Queen;—but the still more + hapless Country, if <i>she</i> were made happy! Mary herself was not + without sharpness enough, among her other qualities: "Who are you," said + she once, "that presume to school the nobles and sovereign of this realm?"—"Madam, + a subject born within the same," answered he. Reasonably answered! If the + "subject" have truth to speak, it is not the "subject's" footing that will + fail him here.— + </p> + <p> + We blame Knox for his intolerance. Well, surely it is good that each of us + be as tolerant as possible. Yet, at bottom, after all the talk there is + and has been about it, what is tolerance? Tolerance has to tolerate the + unessential; and to see well what that is. Tolerance has to be noble, + measured, just in its very wrath, when it can tolerate no longer. But, on + the whole, we are not altogether here to tolerate! We are here to resist, + to control and vanquish withal. We do not "tolerate" Falsehoods, + Thieveries, Iniquities, when they fasten on us; we say to them, Thou art + false, thou art not tolerable! We are here to extinguish Falsehoods, and + put an end to them, in some wise way! I will not quarrel so much with the + way; the doing of the thing is our great concern. In this sense Knox was, + full surely, intolerant. + </p> + <p> + A man sent to row in French Galleys, and such like, for teaching the Truth + in his own land, cannot always be in the mildest humor! I am not prepared + to say that Knox had a soft temper; nor do I know that he had what we call + an ill temper. An ill nature he decidedly had not. Kind honest affections + dwelt in the much-enduring, hard-worn, ever-battling man. That he <i>could</i> + rebuke Queens, and had such weight among those proud turbulent Nobles, + proud enough whatever else they were; and could maintain to the end a kind + of virtual Presidency and Sovereignty in that wild realm, he who was only + "a subject born within the same:" this of itself will prove to us that he + was found, close at hand, to be no mean acrid man; but at heart a + healthful, strong, sagacious man. Such alone can bear rule in that kind. + They blame him for pulling down cathedrals, and so forth, as if he were a + seditious rioting demagogue: precisely the reverse is seen to be the fact, + in regard to cathedrals and the rest of it, if we examine! Knox wanted no + pulling down of stone edifices; he wanted leprosy and darkness to be + thrown out of the lives of men. Tumult was not his element; it was the + tragic feature of his life that he was forced to dwell so much in that. + Every such man is the born enemy of Disorder; hates to be in it: but what + then? Smooth Falsehood is not Order; it is the general sum-total of + Disorder. Order is <i>Truth</i>,—each thing standing on the basis + that belongs to it: Order and Falsehood cannot subsist together. + </p> + <p> + Withal, unexpectedly enough, this Knox has a vein of drollery in him; + which I like much, in combination with his other qualities. He has a true + eye for the ridiculous. His <i>History</i>, with its rough earnestness, is + curiously enlivened with this. When the two Prelates, entering Glasgow + Cathedral, quarrel about precedence; march rapidly up, take to hustling + one another, twitching one another's rochets, and at last flourishing + their crosiers like quarter-staves, it is a great sight for him every way! + Not mockery, scorn, bitterness alone; though there is enough of that too. + But a true, loving, illuminating laugh mounts up over the earnest visage; + not a loud laugh; you would say, a laugh in the <i>eyes</i> most of all. + An honest-hearted, brotherly man; brother to the high, brother also to the + low; sincere in his sympathy with both. He had his pipe of Bourdeaux too, + we find, in that old Edinburgh house of his; a cheery social man, with + faces that loved him! They go far wrong who think this Knox was a gloomy, + spasmodic, shrieking fanatic. Not at all: he is one of the solidest of + men. Practical, cautious-hopeful, patient; a most shrewd, observing, + quietly discerning man. In fact, he has very much the type of character we + assign to the Scotch at present: a certain sardonic taciturnity is in him; + insight enough; and a stouter heart than he himself knows of. He has the + power of holding his peace over many things which do not vitally concern + him,—"They? what are they?" But the thing which does vitally concern + him, that thing he will speak of; and in a tone the whole world shall be + made to hear: all the more emphatic for his long silence. + </p> + <p> + This Prophet of the Scotch is to me no hateful man!—He had a sore + fight of an existence; wrestling with Popes and Principalities; in defeat, + contention, life-long struggle; rowing as a galley-slave, wandering as an + exile. A sore fight: but he won it. "Have you hope?" they asked him in his + last moment, when he could no longer speak. He lifted his finger, "pointed + upwards with his finger," and so died. Honor to him! His works have not + died. The letter of his work dies, as of all men's; but the spirit of it + never. + </p> + <p> + One word more as to the letter of Knox's work. The unforgivable offence in + him is, that he wished to set up Priests over the head of Kings. In other + words, he strove to make the Government of Scotland a <i>Theocracy</i>. + This indeed is properly the sum of his offences, the essential sin; for + which what pardon can there be? It is most true, he did, at bottom, + consciously or unconsciously, mean a Theocracy, or Government of God. He + did mean that Kings and Prime Ministers, and all manner of persons, in + public or private, diplomatizing or whatever else they might be doing, + should walk according to the Gospel of Christ, and understand that this + was their Law, supreme over all laws. He hoped once to see such a thing + realized; and the Petition, <i>Thy Kingdom come</i>, no longer an empty + word. He was sore grieved when he saw greedy worldly Barons clutch hold of + the Church's property; when he expostulated that it was not secular + property, that it was spiritual property, and should be turned to <i>true</i> + churchly uses, education, schools, worship;—and the Regent Murray + had to answer, with a shrug of the shoulders, "It is a devout + imagination!" This was Knox's scheme of right and truth; this he zealously + endeavored after, to realize it. If we think his scheme of truth was too + narrow, was not true, we may rejoice that he could not realize it; that it + remained after two centuries of effort, unrealizable, and is a "devout + imagination" still. But how shall we blame <i>him</i> for struggling to + realize it? Theocracy, Government of God, is precisely the thing to be + struggled for! All Prophets, zealous Priests, are there for that purpose. + Hildebrand wished a Theocracy; Cromwell wished it, fought for it; Mahomet + attained it. Nay, is it not what all zealous men, whether called Priests, + Prophets, or whatsoever else called, do essentially wish, and must wish? + That right and truth, or God's Law, reign supreme among men, this is the + Heavenly Ideal (well named in Knox's time, and namable in all times, a + revealed "Will of God") towards which the Reformer will insist that all be + more and more approximated. All true Reformers, as I said, are by the + nature of them Priests, and strive for a Theocracy. + </p> + <p> + How far such Ideals can ever be introduced into Practice, and at what + point our impatience with their non-introduction ought to begin, is always + a question. I think we may say safely, Let them introduce themselves as + far as they can contrive to do it! If they are the true faith of men, all + men ought to be more or less impatient always where they are not found + introduced. There will never be wanting Regent Murrays enough to shrug + their shoulders, and say, "A devout imagination!" We will praise the + Hero-priest rather, who does what is in him to bring them in; and wears + out, in toil, calumny, contradiction, a noble life, to make a God's + Kingdom of this Earth. The Earth will not become too godlike! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LECTURE V. THE HERO AS MAN OF LETTERS. JOHNSON, ROUSSEAU, BURNS. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 19, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + 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 <i>Man of Letters</i>, 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 <i>Writing</i>, or of Ready-writing which we + call <i>Printing</i>, 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. + </p> + <p> + He is new, I say; he has hardly lasted above a century in the world yet. + Never, till about a hundred years ago, was there seen any figure of 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. + Much had been sold and bought, and left to make its own bargain in the + market-place; but the inspired wisdom of a Heroic Soul never till then, in + that naked manner. He, with his copy-rights and copy-wrongs, in his + squalid garret, in his rusty coat; 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,—is a rather curious spectacle! Few + shapes of Heroism can be more unexpected. + </p> + <p> + Alas, the Hero from of old has had to cramp himself into strange shapes: + the world knows not well at any time what to do with him, so foreign is + his aspect in the world! It seemed absurd to us, that men, in their rude + admiration, should take some wise great Odin for a god, and worship him as + such; some wise great Mahomet for one god-inspired, and religiously follow + his Law for twelve centuries: but that a wise great Johnson, a Burns, a + Rousseau, should be taken for some idle nondescript, extant in the world + to amuse idleness, and have a few coins and applauses thrown him, that he + might live thereby; <i>this</i> perhaps, as before hinted, will one day + seem a still absurder phasis of things!—Meanwhile, since it is the + spiritual always that determines the material, 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. The world's manner of dealing with him is the most significant + feature of the world's general position. Looking well at his life, we may + get a glance, as deep as is readily possible for us, into the life of + those singular centuries which have produced him, in which we ourselves + live and work. + </p> + <p> + There are genuine Men of Letters, and not genuine; as in every kind there + is a genuine and a spurious. If <i>hero</i> be taken to mean genuine, then + I say the Hero as Man of Letters will be found discharging a function for + us which is ever honorable, ever the highest; and was once well known to + be the highest. He is uttering forth, in such way as he has, the inspired + soul of him; all that a man, in any case, can do. I say <i>inspired</i>; + for what we call "originality," "sincerity," "genius," the heroic quality + we have no good name for, signifies that. The Hero is he who lives in the + inward sphere of things, in the True, Divine and Eternal, which exists + always, unseen to most, under the Temporary, Trivial: his being is in + that; he declares that abroad, by act or speech as it may be in declaring + himself abroad. His life, as we said before, is a piece of the everlasting + heart of Nature herself: all men's life is,—but the weak many know + not the fact, and are untrue to it, in most times; the strong few are + strong, heroic, perennial, because it cannot be hidden from them. The Man + of Letters, like every Hero, is there to proclaim this in such sort as he + can. Intrinsically it is the same function which the old generations named + a man Prophet, Priest, Divinity for doing; which all manner of Heroes, by + speech or by act, are sent into the world to do. + </p> + <p> + Fichte the German Philosopher delivered, some forty years ago at Erlangen, + a highly remarkable Course of Lectures on this subject: "<i>Ueber das + Wesen des Gelehrten</i>, On the Nature of the Literary Man." Fichte, in + conformity with the Transcendental Philosophy, of which he was a + distinguished teacher, declares first: That all things which we see or + work with in this Earth, especially we ourselves and all persons, are as a + kind of vesture or sensuous Appearance: that under all there lies, as the + essence of them, what he calls the "Divine Idea of the World;" this is the + Reality which "lies at the bottom of all Appearance." To the mass of men + no such Divine Idea is recognizable in the world; they live merely, says + Fichte, among the superficialities, practicalities and shows of the world, + not dreaming that there is anything divine under them. But the Man of + Letters is sent hither specially that he may discern for himself, and make + manifest to us, this same Divine Idea: in every new generation it will + manifest itself in a new dialect; and he is there for the purpose of doing + that. Such is Fichte's phraseology; with which we need not quarrel. It is + his way of naming what I here, by other words, am striving imperfectly to + name; what there is at present no name for: The unspeakable Divine + Significance, full of splendor, of wonder and terror, that lies in the + being of every man, of every thing,—the Presence of the God who made + every man and thing. Mahomet taught this in his dialect; Odin in his: it + is the thing which all thinking hearts, in one dialect or another, are + here to teach. + </p> + <p> + Fichte calls the Man of Letters, therefore, a Prophet, or as he prefers to + phrase it, a Priest, continually unfolding the Godlike to men: Men of + Letters are a perpetual Priesthood, from age to age, teaching all men that + a God is still present in their life, that all "Appearance," whatsoever we + see in the world, is but as a vesture for the "Divine Idea of the World," + for "that which lies at the bottom of Appearance." In the true Literary + Man there is thus ever, acknowledged or not by the world, a sacredness: he + is the light of the world; the world's Priest;—guiding it, like a + sacred Pillar of Fire, in its dark pilgrimage through the waste of Time. + Fichte discriminates with sharp zeal the <i>true</i> Literary Man, what we + here call the <i>Hero</i> as Man of Letters, from multitudes of false + unheroic. Whoever lives not wholly in this Divine Idea, or living + partially in it, struggles not, as for the one good, to live wholly in it,—he + is, let him live where else he like, in what pomps and prosperities he + like, no Literary Man; he is, says Fichte, a "Bungler, <i>Stumper</i>." Or + at best, if he belong to the prosaic provinces, he may be a "Hodman;" + Fichte even calls him elsewhere a "Nonentity," and has in short no mercy + for him, no wish that <i>he</i> should continue happy among us! This is + Fichte's notion of the Man of Letters. It means, in its own form, + precisely what we here mean. + </p> + <p> + In this point of view, I consider that, for the last hundred years, by far + the notablest of all Literary Men is Fichte's countryman, Goethe. To that + man too, in a strange way, there was given what we may call a life in the + Divine Idea of the World; vision of the inward divine mystery: and + strangely, out of his Books, the world rises imaged once more as godlike, + the workmanship and temple of a God. Illuminated all, not in fierce impure + fire-splendor as of Mahomet, but in mild celestial radiance;—really + a Prophecy in these most unprophetic times; to my mind, by far the + greatest, though one of the quietest, among all the great things that have + come to pass in them. Our chosen specimen of the Hero as Literary Man + would be this Goethe. And it were a very pleasant plan for me here to + discourse of his heroism: for I consider him to be a true Hero; heroic in + what he said and did, and perhaps still more in what he did not say and + did not do; to me a noble spectacle: a great heroic ancient man, speaking + and keeping silence as an ancient Hero, in the guise of a most modern, + high-bred, high-cultivated Man of Letters! We have had no such spectacle; + no man capable of affording such, for the last hundred and fifty years. + </p> + <p> + But at present, such is the general state of knowledge about Goethe, it + were worse than useless to attempt speaking of him in this case. Speak as + I might, Goethe, to the great majority of you, would remain problematic, + vague; no impression but a false one could be realized. Him we must leave + to future times. Johnson, Burns, Rousseau, three great figures from a + prior time, from a far inferior state of circumstances, will suit us + better here. Three men of the Eighteenth Century; the conditions of their + life far more resemble what those of ours still are in England, than what + Goethe's in Germany were. Alas, these men did not conquer like him; they + fought bravely, and fell. They were not heroic bringers of the light, but + heroic seekers of it. They lived under galling conditions; struggling as + under mountains of impediment, and could not unfold themselves into + clearness, or victorious interpretation of that "Divine Idea." It is + rather the <i>Tombs</i> of three Literary Heroes that I have to show you. + There are the monumental heaps, under which three spiritual giants lie + buried. Very mournful, but also great and full of interest for us. We will + linger by them for a while. + </p> + <p> + Complaint is often made, in these times, of what we call the disorganized + condition of society: how ill many forces of society fulfil their work; + how many powerful are seen working in a wasteful, chaotic, altogether + unarranged manner. It is too just a complaint, as we all know. But perhaps + if we look at this of Books and the Writers of Books, we shall find here, + as it were, the summary of all other disorganizations;—a sort of <i>heart</i>, + from which, and to which all other confusion circulates in the world! + Considering what Book writers do in the world, and what the world does + with Book writers, I should say, It is the most anomalous thing the world + at present has to show.—We should get into a sea far beyond + sounding, did we attempt to give account of this: but we must glance at it + for the sake of our subject. The worst element in the life of these three + Literary Heroes was, that they found their business and position such a + chaos. On the beaten road there is tolerable travelling; but it is sore + work, and many have to perish, fashioning a path through the impassable! + </p> + <p> + Our pious Fathers, feeling well what importance lay in the speaking of man + to men, founded churches, made endowments, regulations; everywhere in the + civilized world there is a Pulpit, environed with all manner of complex + dignified appurtenances and furtherances, that therefrom a man with the + tongue may, to best advantage, address his fellow-men. They felt that this + was the most important thing; that without this there was no good thing. + It is a right pious work, that of theirs; beautiful to behold! But now + with the art of Writing, with the art of Printing, a total change has come + over that business. The Writer of a Book, is not he a Preacher preaching + not to this parish or that, on this day or that, but to all men in all + times and places? Surely it is of the last importance that <i>he</i> do + his work right, whoever do it wrong;—that the <i>eye</i> report not + falsely, for then all the other members are astray! Well; how he may do + his work, whether he do it right or wrong, or do it at all, is a point + which no man in the world has taken the pains to think of. To a certain + shopkeeper, trying to get some money for his books, if lucky, he is of + some importance; to no other man of any. Whence he came, whither he is + bound, by what ways he arrived, by what he might be furthered on his + course, no one asks. He is an accident in society. He wanders like a wild + Ishmaelite, in a world of which he is as the spiritual light, either the + guidance or the misguidance! + </p> + <p> + Certainly the Art of Writing is the most miraculous of all things man has + devised. Odin's <i>Runes</i> were the first form of the work of a Hero; <i>Books</i> + written words, are still miraculous <i>Runes</i>, the latest form! In + Books lies the <i>soul</i> of the whole Past Time; the articulate audible + voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has + altogether vanished like a dream. Mighty fleets and armies, harbors and + arsenals, vast cities, high-domed, many-engined,—they are precious, + great: but what do they become? Agamemnon, the many Agamemnons, + Pericleses, and their Greece; all is gone now to some ruined fragments, + dumb mournful wrecks and blocks: but the Books of Greece! There Greece, to + every thinker, still very literally lives: can be called up again into + life. No magic <i>Rune</i> is stranger than a Book. All that Mankind has + done, thought, gained or been: it is lying as in magic preservation in the + pages of Books. They are the chosen possession of men. + </p> + <p> + Do not Books still accomplish <i>miracles</i>, as <i>Runes</i> were fabled + to do? They persuade men. Not the wretchedest circulating-library novel, + which foolish girls thumb and con in remote villages, but will help to + regulate the actual practical weddings and households of those foolish + girls. So "Celia" felt, so "Clifford" acted: the foolish Theorem of Life, + stamped into those young brains, comes out as a solid Practice one day. + Consider whether any <i>Rune</i> in the wildest imagination of Mythologist + ever did such wonders as, on the actual firm Earth, some Books have done! + What built St. Paul's Cathedral? Look at the heart of the matter, it was + that divine Hebrew BOOK,—the word partly of the man Moses, an outlaw + tending his Midianitish herds, four thousand years ago, in the + wildernesses of Sinai! It is the strangest of things, yet nothing is + truer. With the art of Writing, of which Printing is a simple, an + inevitable and comparatively insignificant corollary, the true reign of + miracles for mankind commenced. It related, with a wondrous new contiguity + and perpetual closeness, the Past and Distant with the Present in time and + place; all times and all places with this our actual Here and Now. All + things were altered for men; all modes of important work of men: teaching, + preaching, governing, and all else. + </p> + <p> + To look at Teaching, for instance. Universities are a notable, respectable + product of the modern ages. Their existence too is modified, to the very + basis of it, by the existence of Books. Universities arose while there + were yet no Books procurable; while a man, for a single Book, had to give + an estate of land. That, in those circumstances, when a man had some + knowledge to communicate, he should do it by gathering the learners round + him, face to face, was a necessity for him. If you wanted to know what + Abelard knew, you must go and listen to Abelard. Thousands, as many as + thirty thousand, went to hear Abelard and that metaphysical theology of + his. And now for any other teacher who had also something of his own to + teach, there was a great convenience opened: so many thousands eager to + learn were already assembled yonder; of all places the best place for him + was that. For any third teacher it was better still; and grew ever the + better, the more teachers there came. It only needed now that the King + took notice of this new phenomenon; combined or agglomerated the various + schools into one school; gave it edifices, privileges, encouragements, and + named it <i>Universitas</i>, or School of all Sciences: the University of + Paris, in its essential characters, was there. The model of all subsequent + Universities; which down even to these days, for six centuries now, have + gone on to found themselves. Such, I conceive, was the origin of + Universities. + </p> + <p> + It is clear, however, that with this simple circumstance, facility of + getting Books, the whole conditions of the business from top to bottom + were changed. Once invent Printing, you metamorphosed all Universities, or + superseded them! The Teacher needed not now to gather men personally round + him, that he might <i>speak</i> to them what he knew: print it in a Book, + and all learners far and wide, for a trifle, had it each at his own + fireside, much more effectually to learn it!—Doubtless there is + still peculiar virtue in Speech; even writers of Books may still, in some + circumstances, find it convenient to speak also,—witness our present + meeting here! There is, one would say, and must ever remain while man has + a tongue, a distinct province for Speech as well as for Writing and + Printing. In regard to all things this must remain; to Universities among + others. But the limits of the two have nowhere yet been pointed out, + ascertained; much less put in practice: the University which would + completely take in that great new fact, of the existence of Printed Books, + and stand on a clear footing for the Nineteenth Century as the Paris one + did for the Thirteenth, has not yet come into existence. If we think of + it, all that a University, or final highest School can do for us, is still + but what the first School began doing,—teach us to <i>read</i>. We + learn to <i>read</i>, in various languages, in various sciences; we learn + the alphabet and letters of all manner of Books. But the place where we + are to get knowledge, even theoretic knowledge, is the Books themselves! + It depends on what we read, after all manner of Professors have done their + best for us. The true University of these days is a Collection of Books. + </p> + <p> + But to the Church itself, as I hinted already, all is changed, in its + preaching, in its working, by the introduction of Books. The Church is the + working recognized Union of our Priests or Prophets, of those who by wise + teaching guide the souls of men. While there was no Writing, even while + there was no Easy-writing, or <i>Printing</i>, the preaching of the voice + was the natural sole method of performing this. But now with Books!—He + that can write a true Book, to persuade England, is not he the Bishop and + Archbishop, the Primate of England and of All England? I many a time say, + the writers of Newspapers, Pamphlets, Poems, Books, these <i>are</i> the + real working effective Church of a modern country. Nay not only our + preaching, but even our worship, is not it too accomplished by means of + Printed Books? The noble sentiment which a gifted soul has clothed for us + in melodious words, which brings melody into our hearts,—is not this + essentially, if we will understand it, of the nature of worship? There are + many, in all countries, who, in this confused time, have no other method + of worship. He who, in any way, shows us better than we knew before that a + lily of the fields is beautiful, does he not show it us as an effluence of + the Fountain of all Beauty; as the <i>handwriting</i>, made visible there, + of the great Maker of the Universe? He has sung for us, made us sing with + him, a little verse of a sacred Psalm. Essentially so. How much more he + who sings, who says, or in any way brings home to our heart the noble + doings, feelings, darings and endurances of a brother man! He has verily + touched our hearts as with a live coal <i>from the altar</i>. Perhaps + there is no worship more authentic. + </p> + <p> + Literature, so far as it is Literature, is an "apocalypse of Nature," a + revealing of the "open secret." It may well enough be named, in Fichte's + style, a "continuous revelation" of the Godlike in the Terrestrial and + Common. The Godlike does ever, in very truth, endure there; is brought + out, now in this dialect, now in that, with various degrees of clearness: + all true gifted Singers and Speakers are, consciously or unconsciously, + doing so. The dark stormful indignation of a Byron, so wayward and + perverse, may have touches of it; nay the withered mockery of a French + sceptic,—his mockery of the False, a love and worship of the True. + How much more the sphere-harmony of a Shakspeare, of a Goethe; the + cathedral music of a Milton! They are something too, those humble genuine + lark-notes of a Burns,—skylark, starting from the humble furrow, far + overhead into the blue depths, and singing to us so genuinely there! For + all true singing is of the nature of worship; as indeed all true <i>working</i> + may be said to be,—whereof such <i>singing</i> is but the record, + and fit melodious representation, to us. Fragments of a real "Church + Liturgy" and "Body of Homilies," strangely disguised from the common eye, + are to be found weltering in that huge froth-ocean of Printed Speech we + loosely call Literature! Books are our Church too. + </p> + <p> + Or turning now to the Government of men. Witenagemote, old Parliament, was + a great thing. The affairs of the nation were there deliberated and + decided; what we were to <i>do</i> as a nation. But does not, though the + name Parliament subsists, the parliamentary debate go on now, everywhere + and at all times, in a far more comprehensive way, <i>out</i> of + Parliament altogether? Burke said there were Three Estates in Parliament; + but, in the Reporters' Gallery yonder, there sat a <i>Fourth Estate</i> + more important far than they all. It is not a figure of speech, or a witty + saying; it is a literal fact,—very momentous to us in these times. + Literature is our Parliament too. Printing, which comes necessarily out of + Writing, I say often, is equivalent to Democracy: invent Writing, + Democracy is inevitable. Writing brings Printing; brings universal + everyday extempore Printing, as we see at present. Whoever can speak, + speaking now to the whole nation, becomes a power, a branch of government, + with inalienable weight in law-making, in all acts of authority. It + matters not what rank he has, what revenues or garnitures. the requisite + thing is, that he have a tongue which others will listen to; this and + nothing more is requisite. The nation is governed by all that has tongue + in the nation: Democracy is virtually <i>there</i>. Add only, that + whatsoever power exists will have itself, by and by, organized; working + secretly under bandages, obscurations, obstructions, it will never rest + till it get to work free, unencumbered, visible to all. Democracy + virtually extant will insist on becoming palpably extant.— + </p> + <p> + On all sides, are we not driven to the conclusion that, of the things + which man can do or make here below, by far the most momentous, wonderful + and worthy are the things we call Books! Those poor bits of rag-paper with + black ink on them;—from the Daily Newspaper to the sacred Hebrew + BOOK, what have they not done, what are they not doing!—For indeed, + whatever be the outward form of the thing (bits of paper, as we say, and + black ink), is it not verily, at bottom, the highest act of man's faculty + that produces a Book? It is the <i>Thought</i> of man; the true + thaumaturgic virtue; by which man works all things whatsoever. All that he + does, and brings to pass, is the vesture of a Thought. This London City, + with all its houses, palaces, steam-engines, cathedrals, and huge + immeasurable traffic and tumult, what is it but a Thought, but millions of + Thoughts made into One;—a huge immeasurable Spirit of a THOUGHT, + embodied in brick, in iron, smoke, dust, Palaces, Parliaments, Hackney + Coaches, Katherine Docks, and the rest of it! Not a brick was made but + some man had to <i>think</i> of the making of that brick.—The thing + we called "bits of paper with traces of black ink," is the <i>purest</i> + embodiment a Thought of man can have. No wonder it is, in all ways, the + activest and noblest. + </p> + <p> + All this, of the importance and supreme importance of the Man of Letters + in modern Society, and how the Press is to such a degree superseding the + Pulpit, the Senate, the <i>Senatus Academicus</i> and much else, has been + admitted for a good while; and recognized often enough, in late times, + with a sort of sentimental triumph and wonderment. It seems to me, the + Sentimental by and by will have to give place to the Practical. If Men of + Letters <i>are</i> so incalculably influential, actually performing such + work for us from age to age, and even from day to day, then I think we may + conclude that Men of Letters will not always wander like unrecognized + unregulated Ishmaelites among us! Whatsoever thing, as I said above, has + virtual unnoticed power will cast off its wrappages, bandages, and step + forth one day with palpably articulated, universally visible power. That + one man wear the clothes, and take the wages, of a function which is done + by quite another: there can be no profit in this; this is not right, it is + wrong. And yet, alas, the <i>making</i> of it right,—what a + business, for long times to come! Sure enough, this that we call + Organization of the Literary Guild is still a great way off, encumbered + with all manner of complexities. If you asked me what were the best + possible organization for the Men of Letters in modern society; the + arrangement of furtherance and regulation, grounded the most accurately on + the actual facts of their position and of the world's position,—I + should beg to say that the problem far exceeded my faculty! It is not one + man's faculty; it is that of many successive men turned earnestly upon it, + that will bring out even an approximate solution. What the best + arrangement were, none of us could say. But if you ask, Which is the + worst? I answer: This which we now have, that Chaos should sit umpire in + it; this is the worst. To the best, or any good one, there is yet a long + way. + </p> + <p> + One remark I must not omit, That royal or parliamentary grants of money + are by no means the chief thing wanted! To give our Men of Letters + stipends, endowments and all furtherance of cash, will do little towards + the business. On the whole, one is weary of hearing about the omnipotence + of money. I will say rather that, for a genuine man, it is no evil to be + poor; that there ought to be Literary Men poor,—to show whether they + are genuine or not! Mendicant Orders, bodies of good men doomed to beg, + were instituted in the Christian Church; a most natural and even necessary + development of the spirit of Christianity. It was itself founded on + Poverty, on Sorrow, Contradiction, Crucifixion, every species of worldly + Distress and Degradation. We may say, that he who has not known those + things, and learned from them the priceless lessons they have to teach, + has missed a good opportunity of schooling. To beg, and go barefoot, in + coarse woollen cloak with a rope round your loins, and be despised of all + the world, was no beautiful business;—nor an honorable one in any + eye, till the nobleness of those who did so had made it honored of some! + </p> + <p> + Begging is not in our course at the present time: but for the rest of it, + who will say that a Johnson is not perhaps the better for being poor? It + is needful for him, at all rates, to know that outward profit, that + success of any kind is <i>not</i> the goal he has to aim at. Pride, + vanity, ill-conditioned egoism of all sorts, are bred in his heart, as in + every heart; need, above all, to be cast out of his heart,—to be, + with whatever pangs, torn out of it, cast forth from it, as a thing + worthless. Byron, born rich and noble, made out even less than Burns, poor + and plebeian. Who knows but, in that same "best possible organization" as + yet far off, Poverty may still enter as an important element? What if our + Men of Letters, men setting up to be Spiritual Heroes, were still <i>then</i>, + as they now are, a kind of "involuntary monastic order;" bound still to + this same ugly Poverty,—till they had tried what was in it too, till + they had learned to make it too do for them! Money, in truth, can do much, + but it cannot do all. We must know the province of it, and confine it + there; and even spurn it back, when it wishes to get farther. + </p> + <p> + Besides, were the money-furtherances, the proper season for them, the fit + assigner of them, all settled,—how is the Burns to be recognized + that merits these? He must pass through the ordeal, and prove himself. <i>This</i> + ordeal; this wild welter of a chaos which is called Literary Life: this + too is a kind of ordeal! There is clear truth in the idea that a struggle + from the lower classes of society, towards the upper regions and rewards + of society, must ever continue. Strong men are born there, who ought to + stand elsewhere than there. The manifold, inextricably complex, universal + struggle of these constitutes, and must constitute, what is called the + progress of society. For Men of Letters, as for all other sorts of men. + How to regulate that struggle? There is the whole question. To leave it as + it is, at the mercy of blind Chance; a whirl of distracted atoms, one + cancelling the other; one of the thousand arriving saved, nine hundred and + ninety-nine lost by the way; your royal Johnson languishing inactive in + garrets, or harnessed to the yoke of Printer Cave; your Burns dying + broken-hearted as a Gauger; your Rousseau driven into mad exasperation, + kindling French Revolutions by his paradoxes: this, as we said, is clearly + enough the <i>worst</i> regulation. The <i>best</i>, alas, is far from us! + </p> + <p> + And yet there can be no doubt but it is coming; advancing on us, as yet + hidden in the bosom of centuries: this is a prophecy one can risk. For so + soon as men get to discern the importance of a thing, they do infallibly + set about arranging it, facilitating, forwarding it; and rest not till, in + some approximate degree, they have accomplished that. I say, of all + Priesthoods, Aristocracies, Governing Classes at present extant in the + world, there is no class comparable for importance to that Priesthood of + the Writers of Books. This is a fact which he who runs may read,—and + draw inferences from. "Literature will take care of itself," answered Mr. + Pitt, when applied to for some help for Burns. "Yes," adds Mr. Southey, + "it will take care of itself; <i>and of you too</i>, if you do not look to + it!" + </p> + <p> + The result to individual Men of Letters is not the momentous one; they are + but individuals, an infinitesimal fraction of the great body; they can + struggle on, and live or else die, as they have been wont. But it deeply + concerns the whole society, whether it will set its <i>light</i> on high + places, to walk thereby; or trample it under foot, and scatter it in all + ways of wild waste (not without conflagration), as heretofore! Light is + the one thing wanted for the world. Put wisdom in the head of the world, + the world will fight its battle victoriously, and be the best world man + can make it. I called this anomaly of a disorganic Literary Class the + heart of all other anomalies, at once product and parent; some good + arrangement for that would be as the <i>punctum saliens</i> of a new + vitality and just arrangement for all. Already, in some European + countries, in France, in Prussia, one traces some beginnings of an + arrangement for the Literary Class; indicating the gradual possibility of + such. I believe that it is possible; that it will have to be possible. + </p> + <p> + By far the most interesting fact I hear about the Chinese is one on which + we cannot arrive at clearness, but which excites endless curiosity even in + the dim state: this namely, that they do attempt to make their Men of + Letters their Governors! It would be rash to say, one understood how this + was done, or with what degree of success it was done. All such things must + be very unsuccessful; yet a small degree of success is precious; the very + attempt how precious! There does seem to be, all over China, a more or + less active search everywhere to discover the men of talent that grow up + in the young generation. Schools there are for every one: a foolish sort + of training, yet still a sort. The youths who distinguish themselves in + the lower school are promoted into favorable stations in the higher, that + they may still more distinguish themselves,—forward and forward: it + appears to be out of these that the Official Persons, and incipient + Governors, are taken. These are they whom they <i>try</i> first, whether + they can govern or not. And surely with the best hope: for they are the + men that have already shown intellect. Try them: they have not governed or + administered as yet; perhaps they cannot; but there is no doubt they <i>have</i> + some Understanding,—without which no man can! Neither is + Understanding a <i>tool</i>, as we are too apt to figure; "it is a <i>hand</i> + which can handle any tool." Try these men: they are of all others the best + worth trying.—Surely there is no kind of government, constitution, + revolution, social apparatus or arrangement, that I know of in this world, + so promising to one's scientific curiosity as this. The man of intellect + at the top of affairs: this is the aim of all constitutions and + revolutions, if they have any aim. For the man of true intellect, as I + assert and believe always, is the noble-hearted man withal, the true, + just, humane and valiant man. Get him for governor, all is got; fail to + get him, though you had Constitutions plentiful as blackberries, and a + Parliament in every village, there is nothing yet got—! + </p> + <p> + These things look strange, truly; and are not such as we commonly + speculate upon. But we are fallen into strange times; these things will + require to be speculated upon; to be rendered practicable, to be in some + way put in practice. These, and many others. On all hands of us, there is + the announcement, audible enough, that the old Empire of Routine has + ended; that to say a thing has long been, is no reason for its continuing + to be. The things which have been are fallen into decay, are fallen into + incompetence; large masses of mankind, in every society of our Europe, are + no longer capable of living at all by the things which have been. When + millions of men can no longer by their utmost exertion gain food for + themselves, and "the third man for thirty-six weeks each year is short of + third-rate potatoes," the things which have been must decidedly prepare to + alter themselves!—I will now quit this of the organization of Men of + Letters. + </p> + <p> + Alas, the evil that pressed heaviest on those Literary Heroes of ours was + not the want of organization for Men of Letters, but a far deeper one; out + of which, indeed, this and so many other evils for the Literary Man, and + for all men, had, as from their fountain, taken rise. That our Hero as Man + of Letters had to travel without highway, companionless, through an + inorganic chaos,—and to leave his own life and faculty lying there, + as a partial contribution towards <i>pushing</i> some highway through it: + this, had not his faculty itself been so perverted and paralyzed, he might + have put up with, might have considered to be but the common lot of + Heroes. His fatal misery was the <i>spiritual paralysis</i>, so we may + name it, of the Age in which his life lay; whereby his life too, do what + he might, was half paralyzed! The Eighteenth was a <i>Sceptical</i> + 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. The "age of miracles" had been, or perhaps + had not been; but it was not any longer. An effete world; wherein Wonder, + Greatness, Godhood could not now dwell;—in one word, a godless + world! + </p> + <p> + How mean, dwarfish are their ways of thinking, in this time,—compared + not with the Christian Shakspeares and Miltons, but with the old Pagan + Skalds, with any species of believing men! The living TREE Igdrasil, with + the melodious prophetic waving of its world-wide boughs, deep-rooted as + Hela, has died out into the clanking of a World-MACHINE. "Tree" and + "Machine:" contrast these two things. I, for my share, declare the world + to be no machine! I say that it does <i>not</i> go by wheel-and-pinion + "motives" self-interests, checks, balances; that there is something far + other in it than the clank of spinning-jennies, and parliamentary + majorities; and, on the whole, that it is not a machine at all!—The + old Norse Heathen had a truer motion of God's-world than these poor + Machine-Sceptics: the old Heathen Norse were <i>sincere</i> men. But for + these poor Sceptics there was no sincerity, no truth. Half-truth and + hearsay was called truth. Truth, for most men, meant plausibility; to be + measured by the number of votes you could get. They had lost any notion + that sincerity was possible, or of what sincerity was. How many + Plausibilities asking, with unaffected surprise and the air of offended + virtue, What! am not I sincere? Spiritual Paralysis, I say, nothing left + but a Mechanical life, was the characteristic of that century. For the + common man, unless happily he stood <i>below</i> his century and belonged + to another prior one, it was impossible to be a Believer, a Hero; he lay + buried, unconscious, under these baleful influences. To the strongest man, + only with infinite struggle and confusion was it possible to work himself + half loose; and lead as it were, in an enchanted, most tragical way, a + spiritual death-in-life, and be a Half-Hero! + </p> + <p> + Scepticism is the name we give to all this; as the chief symptom, as the + chief origin of all this. Concerning which so much were to be said! It + would take many Discourses, not a small fraction of one Discourse, to + state what one feels about that Eighteenth Century and its ways. As indeed + this, and the like of this, which we now call Scepticism, is precisely the + black malady and life-foe, against which all teaching and discoursing + since man's life began has directed itself: the battle of Belief against + Unbelief is the never-ending battle! Neither is it in the way of + crimination that one would wish to speak. Scepticism, for that century, we + must consider as the decay of old ways of believing, the preparation afar + off for new better and wider ways,—an inevitable thing. We will not + blame men for it; we will lament their hard fate. We will understand that + destruction of old <i>forms</i> is not destruction of everlasting <i>substances</i>; + that Scepticism, as sorrowful and hateful as we see it, is not an end but + a beginning. + </p> + <p> + The other day speaking, without prior purpose that way, of Bentham's + theory of man and man's life, I chanced to call it a more beggarly one + than Mahomet's. I am bound to say, now when it is once uttered, that such + is my deliberate opinion. Not that one would mean offence against the man + Jeremy Bentham, or those who respect and believe him. Bentham himself, and + even the creed of Bentham, seems to me comparatively worthy of praise. It + is a determinate <i>being</i> what all the world, in a cowardly + half-and-half manner, was tending to be. Let us have the crisis; we shall + either have death or the cure. I call this gross, steam-engine + Utilitarianism an approach towards new Faith. It was a laying-down of + cant; a saying to oneself: "Well then, this world is a dead iron machine, + the god of it Gravitation and selfish Hunger; let us see what, by checking + and balancing, and good adjustment of tooth and pinion, can be made of + it!" Benthamism has something complete, manful, in such fearless committal + of itself to what it finds true; you may call it Heroic, though a Heroism + with its <i>eyes</i> put out! It is the culminating point, and fearless + ultimatum, of what lay in the half-and-half state, pervading man's whole + existence in that Eighteenth Century. It seems to me, all deniers of + Godhood, and all lip-believers of it, are bound to be Benthamites, if they + have courage and honesty. Benthamism is an <i>eyeless</i> Heroism: the + Human Species, like a hapless blinded Samson grinding in the Philistine + Mill, clasps convulsively the pillars of its Mill; brings huge ruin down, + but ultimately deliverance withal. Of Bentham I meant to say no harm. + </p> + <p> + But this I do say, and would wish all men to know and lay to heart, that + he who discerns nothing but Mechanism in the Universe has in the fatalest + way missed the secret of the Universe altogether. That all Godhood should + vanish out of men's conception of this Universe seems to me precisely the + most brutal error,—I will not disparage Heathenism by calling it a + Heathen error,—that men could fall into. It is not true; it is false + at the very heart of it. A man who thinks so will think <i>wrong</i> about + all things in the world; this original sin will vitiate all other + conclusions he can form. One might call it the most lamentable of + Delusions,—not forgetting Witchcraft itself! Witchcraft worshipped + at least a living Devil; but this worships a dead iron Devil; no God, not + even a Devil! Whatsoever is noble, divine, inspired, drops thereby out of + life. There remains everywhere in life a despicable <i>caput-mortuum</i>; + the mechanical hull, all soul fled out of it. How can a man act + heroically? The "Doctrine of Motives" will teach him that it is, under + more or less disguise, nothing but a wretched love of Pleasure, fear of + Pain; that Hunger, of applause, of cash, of whatsoever victual it may be, + is the ultimate fact of man's life. Atheism, in brief;—which does + indeed frightfully punish itself. The man, I say, is become spiritually a + paralytic man; this godlike Universe a dead mechanical steam-engine, all + working by motives, checks, balances, and I know not what; wherein, as in + the detestable belly of some Phalaris'-Bull of his own contriving, he the + poor Phalaris sits miserably dying! + </p> + <p> + Belief I define to be the healthy act of a man's mind. It is a mysterious + indescribable process, that of getting to believe;—indescribable, as + all vital acts are. We have our mind given us, not that it may cavil and + argue, but that it may see into something, give us clear belief and + understanding about something, whereon we are then to proceed to act. + Doubt, truly, is not itself a crime. Certainly we do not rush out, clutch + up the first thing we find, and straightway believe that! All manner of + doubt, inquiry, [Gr.] <i>skepsis</i> as it is named, about all manner of + objects, dwells in every reasonable mind. It is the mystic working of the + mind, on the object it is <i>getting</i> to know and believe. Belief comes + out of all this, above ground, like the tree from its hidden <i>roots</i>. + But now if, even on common things, we require that a man keep his doubts + <i>silent</i>, and not babble of them till they in some measure become + affirmations or denials; how much more in regard to the highest things, + impossible to speak of in words at all! That a man parade his doubt, and + get to imagine that debating and logic (which means at best only the + manner of <i>telling</i> us your thought, your belief or disbelief, about + a thing) is the triumph and true work of what intellect he has: alas, this + is as if you should <i>overturn</i> the tree, and instead of green boughs, + leaves and fruits, show us ugly taloned roots turned up into the air,—and + no growth, only death and misery going on! + </p> + <p> + For the Scepticism, as I said, is not intellectual only; it is moral also; + a chronic atrophy and disease of the whole soul. A man lives by believing + something; not by debating and arguing about many things. A sad case for + him when all that he can manage to believe is something he can button in + his pocket, and with one or the other organ eat and digest! Lower than + that he will not get. We call those ages in which he gets so low the + mournfulest, sickest and meanest of all ages. The world's heart is + palsied, sick: how can any limb of it be whole? Genuine Acting ceases in + all departments of the world's work; dexterous Similitude of Acting + begins. The world's wages are pocketed, the world's work is not done. + Heroes have gone out; Quacks have come in. Accordingly, what Century, + since the end of the Roman world, which also was a time of scepticism, + simulacra and universal decadence, so abounds with Quacks as that + Eighteenth? Consider them, with their tumid sentimental vaporing about + virtue, benevolence,—the wretched Quack-squadron, Cagliostro at the + head of them! Few men were without quackery; they had got to consider it a + necessary ingredient and amalgam for truth. Chatham, our brave Chatham + himself, comes down to the House, all wrapt and bandaged; he "has crawled + out in great bodily suffering," and so on;—<i>forgets</i>, says + Walpole, that he is acting the sick man; in the fire of debate, snatches + his arm from the sling, and oratorically swings and brandishes it! Chatham + himself lives the strangest mimetic life, half-hero, half-quack, all + along. For indeed the world is full of dupes; and you have to gain the <i>world's</i> + suffrage! How the duties of the world will be done in that case, what + quantities of error, which means failure, which means sorrow and misery, + to some and to many, will gradually accumulate in all provinces of the + world's business, we need not compute. + </p> + <p> + It seems to me, you lay your finger here on the heart of the world's + maladies, when you call it a Sceptical World. An insincere world; a + godless untruth of a world! It is out of this, as I consider, that the + whole tribe of social pestilences, French Revolutions, Chartisms, and what + not, have derived their being,—their chief necessity to be. This + must alter. Till this alter, nothing can beneficially alter. My one hope + of the world, my inexpugnable consolation in looking at the miseries of + the world, is that this is altering. Here and there one does now find a + man who knows, as of old, that this world is a Truth, and no Plausibility + and Falsity; that he himself is alive, not dead or paralytic; and that the + world is alive, instinct with Godhood, beautiful and awful, even as in the + beginning of days! One man once knowing this, many men, all men, must by + and by come to know it. It lies there clear, for whosoever will take the + <i>spectacles</i> off his eyes and honestly look, to know! For such a man + the Unbelieving Century, with its unblessed Products, is already past; a + new century is already come. The old unblessed Products and Performances, + as solid as they look, are Phantasms, preparing speedily to vanish. To + this and the other noisy, very great-looking Simulacrum with the whole + world huzzaing at its heels, he can say, composedly stepping aside: Thou + art not <i>true</i>; thou art not extant, only semblant; go thy way!—Yes, + hollow Formulism, gross Benthamism, and other unheroic atheistic + Insincerity is visibly and even rapidly declining. An unbelieving + Eighteenth Century is but an exception,—such as now and then occurs. + I prophesy that the world will once more become <i>sincere</i>; a + believing world; with <i>many</i> Heroes in it, a heroic world! It will + then be a victorious world; never till then. + </p> + <p> + Or indeed what of the world and its victories? Men speak too much about + the world. Each one of us here, let the world go how it will, and be + victorious or not victorious, has he not a Life of his own to lead? One + Life; a little gleam of Time between two Eternities; no second chance to + us forevermore! It were well for us to live not as fools and simulacra, + but as wise and realities. The world's being saved will not save us; nor + the world's being lost destroy us. We should look to ourselves: there is + great merit here in the "duty of staying at home"! And, on the whole, to + say truth, I never heard of "world's" being "saved" in any other way. That + mania of saving worlds is itself a piece of the Eighteenth Century with + its windy sentimentalism. Let us not follow it too far. For the saving of + the <i>world</i> I will trust confidently to the Maker of the world; and + look a little to my own saving, which I am more competent to!—In + brief, for the world's sake, and for our own, we will rejoice greatly that + Scepticism, Insincerity, Mechanical Atheism, with all their poison-dews, + are going, and as good as gone.— + </p> + <p> + Now it was under such conditions, in those times of Johnson, that our Men + of Letters had to live. Times in which there was properly no truth in + life. Old truths had fallen nigh dumb; the new lay yet hidden, not trying + to speak. That Man's Life here below was a Sincerity and Fact, and would + forever continue such, no new intimation, in that dusk of the world, had + yet dawned. No intimation; not even any French Revolution,—which we + define to be a Truth once more, though a Truth clad in hell-fire! How + different was the Luther's pilgrimage, with its assured goal, from the + Johnson's, girt with mere traditions, suppositions, grown now incredible, + unintelligible! Mahomet's Formulas were of "wood waxed and oiled," and + could be burnt out of one's way: poor Johnson's were far more difficult to + burn.—The strong man will ever find <i>work</i>, which means + difficulty, pain, to the full measure of his strength. But to make out a + victory, in those circumstances of our poor Hero as Man of Letters, was + perhaps more difficult than in any. Not obstruction, disorganization, + Bookseller Osborne and Fourpence-halfpenny a day; not this alone; but the + light of his own soul was taken from him. No landmark on the Earth; and, + alas, what is that to having no loadstar in the Heaven! We need not wonder + that none of those Three men rose to victory. That they fought truly is + the highest praise. With a mournful sympathy we will contemplate, if not + three living victorious Heroes, as I said, the Tombs of three fallen + Heroes! They fell for us too; making a way for us. There are the mountains + which they hurled abroad in their confused War of the Giants; under which, + their strength and life spent, they now lie buried. + </p> + <p> + I have already written of these three Literary Heroes, expressly or + incidentally; what I suppose is known to most of you; what need not be + spoken or written a second time. They concern us here as the singular <i>Prophets</i> + of that singular age; for such they virtually were; and the aspect they + and their world exhibit, under this point of view, might lead us into + reflections enough! I call them, all three, Genuine Men more or less; + faithfully, for most part unconsciously, struggling to be genuine, and + plant themselves on the everlasting truth of things. This to a degree that + eminently distinguishes them from the poor artificial mass of their + contemporaries; and renders them worthy to be considered as Speakers, in + some measure, of the everlasting truth, as Prophets in that age of theirs. + By Nature herself a noble necessity was laid on them to be so. They were + men of such magnitude that they could not live on unrealities,—clouds, + froth and all inanity gave way under them: there was no footing for them + but on firm earth; no rest or regular motion for them, if they got not + footing there. To a certain extent, they were Sons of Nature once more in + an age of Artifice; once more, Original Men. + </p> + <p> + As for Johnson, I have always considered him to be, by nature, one of our + great English souls. A strong and noble man; so much left undeveloped in + him to the last: in a kindlier element what might he not have been,—Poet, + Priest, sovereign Ruler! On the whole, a man must not complain of his + "element," of his "time," or the like; it is thriftless work doing so. His + time is bad: well then, he is there to make it better!—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. The world might + have had more of profitable <i>work</i> out of him, or less; but his <i>effort</i> + against the world's work could never have been a light one. Nature, in + return for his nobleness, had said to him, Live in an element of diseased + sorrow. Nay, perhaps the sorrow and the nobleness were intimately and even + inseparably connected with each other. At all events, poor Johnson had to + go about girt with continual hypochondria, physical and spiritual pain. + Like a Hercules with the burning Nessus'-shirt on him, which shoots in on + him dull incurable misery: the Nessus'-shirt not to be stript off, which + is his own natural skin! In this manner <i>he</i> had to live. Figure him + there, with his scrofulous diseases, with his great greedy heart, and + unspeakable chaos of thoughts; stalking mournful as a stranger in this + Earth; eagerly devouring what spiritual thing he could come at: + school-languages and other merely grammatical stuff, if there were nothing + better! The largest soul that was in all England; and provision made for + it of "fourpence-halfpenny a day." Yet a giant invincible soul; a true + man's. One remembers always that story of the shoes at Oxford: the rough, + seamy-faced, rawboned College Servitor stalking about, in winter-season, + with his shoes worn out; how the charitable Gentleman Commoner secretly + places a new pair at his door; and the rawboned Servitor, lifting them, + looking at them near, with his dim eyes, with what thoughts,—pitches + them out of window! Wet feet, mud, frost, hunger or what you will; but not + beggary: we cannot stand beggary! Rude stubborn self-help here; a whole + world of squalor, rudeness, confused misery and want, yet of nobleness and + manfulness withal. It is a type of the man's life, this pitching away of + the shoes. An original man;—not a second-hand, borrowing or begging + man. Let us stand on our own basis, at any rate! On such shoes as we + ourselves can get. On frost and mud, if you will, but honestly on that;—on + the reality and substance which Nature gives <i>us</i>, not on the + semblance, on the thing she has given another than us—! + </p> + <p> + And yet with all this rugged pride of manhood and self-help, was there + ever soul more tenderly affectionate, loyally submissive to what was + really higher than he? Great souls are always loyally submissive, reverent + to what is over them; only small mean souls are otherwise. I could not + find a better proof of what I said the other day, That the sincere man was + by nature the obedient man; that only in a World of Heroes was there loyal + Obedience to the Heroic. The essence of <i>originality</i> is not that it + be <i>new</i>: Johnson believed altogether in the old; he found the old + opinions credible for him, fit for him; and in a right heroic manner lived + under them. He is well worth study in regard to that. For we are to say + that Johnson was far other than a mere man of words and formulas; he was a + man of truths and facts. He stood by the old formulas; the happier was it + for him that he could so stand: but in all formulas that <i>he</i> could + stand by, there needed to be a most genuine substance. Very curious how, + in that poor Paper-age, so barren, artificial, thick-quilted with + Pedantries, Hearsays, the great Fact of this Universe glared in, forever + wonderful, indubitable, unspeakable, divine-infernal, upon this man too! + How he harmonized his Formulas with it, how he managed at all under such + circumstances: that is a thing worth seeing. A thing "to be looked at with + reverence, with pity, with awe." That Church of St. Clement Danes, where + Johnson still <i>worshipped</i> in the era of Voltaire, is to me a + venerable place. + </p> + <p> + It was in virtue of his <i>sincerity</i>, of his speaking still in some + sort from the heart of Nature, though in the current artificial dialect, + that Johnson was a Prophet. Are not all dialects "artificial"? Artificial + things are not all false;—nay every true Product of Nature will + infallibly <i>shape</i> itself; we may say all artificial things are, at + the starting of them, <i>true</i>. What we call "Formulas" are not in + their origin bad; they are indispensably good. Formula is <i>method</i>, + habitude; found wherever man is found. Formulas fashion themselves as + Paths do, as beaten Highways, leading toward some sacred or high object, + whither many men are bent. Consider it. One man, full of heartfelt earnest + impulse, finds out a way of doing somewhat,—were it of uttering his + soul's reverence for the Highest, were it but of fitly saluting his + fellow-man. An inventor was needed to do that, a <i>poet</i>; he has + articulated the dim-struggling thought that dwelt in his own and many + hearts. This is his way of doing that; these are his footsteps, the + beginning of a "Path." And now see: the second men travels naturally in + the footsteps of his foregoer, it is the <i>easiest</i> method. In the + footsteps of his foregoer; yet with improvements, with changes where such + seem good; at all events with enlargements, the Path ever <i>widening</i> + itself as more travel it;—till at last there is a broad Highway + whereon the whole world may travel and drive. While there remains a City + or Shrine, or any Reality to drive to, at the farther end, the Highway + shall be right welcome! When the City is gone, we will forsake the + Highway. In this manner all Institutions, Practices, Regulated Things in + the world have come into existence, and gone out of existence. Formulas + all begin by being <i>full</i> of substance; you may call them the <i>skin</i>, + the articulation into shape, into limbs and skin, of a substance that is + already there: <i>they</i> had not been there otherwise. Idols, as we + said, are not idolatrous till they become doubtful, empty for the + worshipper's heart. Much as we talk against Formulas, I hope no one of us + is ignorant withal of the high significance of <i>true</i> Formulas; that + they were, and will ever be, the indispensablest furniture of our + habitation in this world.— + </p> + <p> + Mark, too, how little Johnson boasts of his "sincerity." He has no + suspicion of his being particularly sincere,—of his being + particularly anything! 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 <i>Truth</i> on his + watch-seal;" no, but he stands by truth, speaks by it, works and lives by + it. Thus it ever is. Think of it once more. The man whom Nature has + appointed to do great things is, first of all, furnished with that + openness to Nature which renders him incapable of being <i>in</i>sincere! + To his large, open, deep-feeling heart Nature is a Fact: all hearsay is + hearsay; the unspeakable greatness of this Mystery of Life, let him + acknowledge it or not, nay even though he seem to forget it or deny it, is + ever present to <i>him</i>,—fearful and wonderful, on this hand and + on that. He has a basis of sincerity; unrecognized, because never + questioned or capable of question. Mirabeau, Mahomet, Cromwell, Napoleon: + all the Great Men I ever heard of have this as the primary material of + them. Innumerable commonplace men are debating, are talking everywhere + their commonplace doctrines, which they have learned by logic, by rote, at + second-hand: to that kind of man all this is still nothing. He must have + truth; truth which <i>he</i> feels to be true. How shall he stand + otherwise? His whole soul, at all moments, in all ways, tells him that + there is no standing. He is under the noble necessity of being true. + Johnson's way of thinking about this world is not mine, any more than + Mahomet's was: but I recognize the everlasting element of <i>heart-sincerity</i> + in both; and see with pleasure how neither of them remains ineffectual. + Neither of them is as <i>chaff</i> sown; in both of them is something + which the seedfield will <i>grow</i>. + </p> + <p> + Johnson was a Prophet to his people; preached a Gospel to them,—as + all like him always do. 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 <i>do</i> 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 <i>do</i> or work at all? Such Gospel + Johnson preached and taught;—coupled, theoretically and practically, + with this other great Gospel, "Clear your mind of Cant!" Have no trade + with Cant: stand on the cold mud in the frosty weather, but let it be in + your own <i>real</i> torn shoes: "that will be better for you," as Mahomet + says! I call this, I call these two things <i>joined together</i>, a great + Gospel, the greatest perhaps that was possible at that time. + </p> + <p> + Johnson's Writings, which once had such currency and celebrity, are now as + it were disowned by the young generation. It is not wonderful; Johnson's + opinions are fast becoming obsolete: but his style of thinking and of + living, we may hope, will never become obsolete. I find in Johnson's Books + the indisputablest traces of a great intellect and great heart;—ever + welcome, under what obstructions and perversions soever. They are <i>sincere</i> + words, those of his; he means things by them. A wondrous buckram style,—the + best he could get to then; a measured grandiloquence, stepping or rather + stalking along in a very solemn way, grown obsolete now; sometimes a tumid + <i>size</i> of phraseology not in proportion to the contents of it: all + this you will put up with. For the phraseology, tumid or not, has always + <i>something within it</i>. So many beautiful styles and books, with <i>nothing</i> + in them;—a man is a malefactor to the world who writes such! <i>They</i> + are the avoidable kind!—Had Johnson left nothing but his <i>Dictionary</i>, + one might have traced there a great intellect, a genuine man. Looking to + its clearness of definition, its general solidity, honesty, insight and + successful method, it may be called the best of all Dictionaries. There is + in it a kind of architectural nobleness; it stands there like a great + solid square-built edifice, finished, symmetrically complete: you judge + that a true Builder did it. + </p> + <p> + One word, in spite of our haste, must be granted to poor Bozzy. He passes + for a mean, inflated, gluttonous creature; and was so in many senses. Yet + the fact of his reverence for Johnson will ever remain noteworthy. The + foolish conceited Scotch Laird, the most conceited man of his time, + approaching in such awe-struck attitude the great dusty irascible + Pedagogue in his mean garret there: it is a genuine reverence for + Excellence; a <i>worship</i> for Heroes, at a time when neither Heroes nor + worship were surmised to exist. Heroes, it would seem, exist always, and a + certain worship of them! We will also take the liberty to deny altogether + that of the witty Frenchman, that no man is a Hero to his + valet-de-chambre. Or if so, it is not the Hero's blame, but the Valet's: + that his soul, namely, is a mean <i>valet</i>-soul! He expects his Hero to + advance in royal stage-trappings, with measured step, trains borne behind + him, trumpets sounding before him. It should stand rather, No man can be a + <i>Grand-Monarque</i> to his valet-de-chambre. Strip your Louis Quatorze + of his king-gear, and there <i>is</i> left nothing but a poor forked + radish with a head fantastically carved;—admirable to no valet. The + Valet does not know a Hero when he sees him! Alas, no: it requires a kind + of <i>Hero</i> to do that;—and one of the world's wants, in <i>this</i> + as in other senses, is for most part want of such. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, shall we not say, that Boswell's admiration was well + bestowed; that he could have found no soul in all England so worthy of + bending down before? Shall we not say, of this great mournful Johnson too, + that he guided his difficult confused existence wisely; led it <i>well</i>, + like a right valiant man? That waste chaos of Authorship by trade; that + waste chaos of Scepticism in religion and politics, in life-theory and + life-practice; in his poverty, in his dust and dimness, with the sick body + and the rusty coat: he made it do for him, like a brave man. Not wholly + without a loadstar in the Eternal; he had still a loadstar, as the brave + all need to have: with his eye set on that, he would change his course for + nothing in these confused vortices of the lower sea of Time. "To the + Spirit of Lies, bearing death and hunger, he would in nowise strike his + flag." Brave old Samuel: <i>ultimus Romanorum</i>! + </p> + <p> + Of Rousseau and his Heroism I cannot say so much. He is not what I call a + strong man. A morbid, excitable, spasmodic man; at best, intense rather + than strong. He had not "the talent of Silence," an invaluable talent; + which few Frenchmen, or indeed men of any sort in these times, excel in! + The suffering man ought really "to consume his own smoke;" there is no + good in emitting <i>smoke</i> till you have made it into <i>fire</i>,—which, + in the metaphorical sense too, all smoke is capable of becoming! Rousseau + has not depth or width, not calm force for difficulty; the first + characteristic of true greatness. A fundamental mistake to call vehemence + and rigidity strength! A man is not strong who takes convulsion-fits; + though six men cannot hold him then. He that can walk under the heaviest + weight without staggering, he is the strong man. We need forever, + especially in these loud-shrieking days, to remind ourselves of that. A + man who cannot <i>hold his peace</i>, till the time come for speaking and + acting, is no right man. + </p> + <p> + Poor Rousseau's face is to me expressive of him. A high but narrow + contracted intensity in it: bony brows; deep, strait-set eyes, in which + there is something bewildered-looking,—bewildered, peering with + lynx-eagerness. A face full of misery, even ignoble misery, and also of + the antagonism against that; something mean, plebeian there, redeemed only + by <i>intensity</i>: the face of what is called a Fanatic,—a sadly + <i>contracted</i> Hero! We name him here because, with all his drawbacks, + and they are many, he has the first and chief characteristic of a Hero: he + is heartily <i>in earnest</i>. In earnest, if ever man was; as none of + these French Philosophers were. Nay, one would say, of an earnestness too + great for his otherwise sensitive, rather feeble nature; and which indeed + in the end drove him into the strangest incoherences, almost delirations. + There had come, at last, to be a kind of madness in him: his Ideas <i>possessed</i> + him like demons; hurried him so about, drove him over steep places—! + </p> + <p> + The fault and misery of Rousseau was what we easily name by a single word, + <i>Egoism</i>; which is indeed the source and summary of all faults and + miseries whatsoever. He had not perfected himself into victory over mere + Desire; a mean Hunger, in many sorts, was still the motive principle of + him. I am afraid he was a very vain man; hungry for the praises of men. + You remember Genlis's experience of him. She took Jean Jacques to the + Theatre; he bargaining for a strict incognito,—"He would not be seen + there for the world!" The curtain did happen nevertheless to be drawn + aside: the Pit recognized Jean Jacques, but took no great notice of him! + He expressed the bitterest indignation; gloomed all evening, spake no + other than surly words. The glib Countess remained entirely convinced that + his anger was not at being seen, but at not being applauded when seen. How + the whole nature of the man is poisoned; nothing but suspicion, + self-isolation, fierce moody ways! He could not live with anybody. A man + of some rank from the country, who visited him often, and used to sit with + him, expressing all reverence and affection for him, comes one day; finds + Jean Jacques full of the sourest unintelligible humor. "Monsieur," said + Jean Jacques, with flaming eyes, "I know why you come here. You come to + see what a poor life I lead; how little is in my poor pot that is boiling + there. Well, look into the pot! There is half a pound of meat, one carrot + and three onions; that is all: go and tell the whole world that, if you + like, Monsieur!"—A man of this sort was far gone. The whole world + got itself supplied with anecdotes, for light laughter, for a certain + theatrical interest, from these perversions and contortions of poor Jean + Jacques. Alas, to him they were not laughing or theatrical; too real to + him! The contortions of a dying gladiator: the crowded amphitheatre looks + on with entertainment; but the gladiator is in agonies and dying. + </p> + <p> + And yet this Rousseau, as we say, with his passionate appeals to Mothers, + with his <i>contrat-social</i>, with his celebrations of Nature, even of + savage life in Nature, did once more touch upon Reality, struggle towards + Reality; was doing the function of a Prophet to his Time. As he could, and + as the Time could! Strangely through all that defacement, degradation and + almost madness, there is in the inmost heart of poor Rousseau a spark of + real heavenly fire. Once more, out of the element of that withered mocking + Philosophism, Scepticism and Persiflage, there has arisen in this man the + ineradicable feeling and knowledge that this Life of ours is true: not a + Scepticism, Theorem, or Persiflage, but a Fact, an awful Reality. Nature + had made that revelation to him; had ordered him to speak it out. He got + it spoken out; if not well and clearly, then ill and dimly,—as + clearly as he could. Nay what are all errors and perversities of his, even + those stealings of ribbons, aimless confused miseries and vagabondisms, if + we will interpret them kindly, but the blinkard dazzlement and staggerings + to and fro of a man sent on an errand he is too weak for, by a path he + cannot yet find? Men are led by strange ways. One should have tolerance + for a man, hope of him; leave him to try yet what he will do. While life + lasts, hope lasts for every man. + </p> + <p> + Of Rousseau's literary talents, greatly celebrated still among his + countrymen, I do not say much. His Books, like himself, are what I call + unhealthy; not the good sort of Books. There is a sensuality in Rousseau. + Combined with such an intellectual gift as his, it makes pictures of a + certain gorgeous attractiveness: but they are not genuinely poetical. Not + white sunlight: something <i>operatic</i>; a kind of rose-pink, artificial + bedizenment. It is frequent, or rather it is universal, among the French + since his time. Madame de Stael has something of it; St. Pierre; and down + onwards to the present astonishing convulsionary "Literature of + Desperation," it is everywhere abundant. That same <i>rose-pink</i> is not + the right hue. Look at a Shakspeare, at a Goethe, even at a Walter Scott! + He who has once seen into this, has seen the difference of the True from + the Sham-True, and will discriminate them ever afterwards. + </p> + <p> + We had to observe in Johnson how much good a Prophet, under all + disadvantages and disorganizations, can accomplish for the world. In + Rousseau we are called to look rather at the fearful amount of evil which, + under such disorganization, may accompany the good. Historically it is a + most pregnant spectacle, that of Rousseau. Banished into Paris garrets, in + the gloomy company of his own Thoughts and Necessities there; driven from + post to pillar; fretted, exasperated till the heart of him went mad, he + had grown to feel deeply that the world was not his friend nor the world's + law. It was expedient, if any way possible, that such a man should <i>not</i> + have been set in flat hostility with the world. He could be cooped into + garrets, laughed at as a maniac, left to starve like a wild beast in his + cage;—but he could not be hindered from setting the world on fire. + The French Revolution found its Evangelist in Rousseau. His semi-delirious + speculations on the miseries of civilized life, the preferability of the + savage to the civilized, and such like, helped well to produce a whole + delirium in France generally. True, you may well ask, What could the + world, the governors of the world, do with such a man? Difficult to say + what the governors of the world could do with him! What he could do with + them is unhappily clear enough,—<i>guillotine</i> a great many of + them! Enough now of Rousseau. + </p> + <p> + It was a curious phenomenon, in the withered, unbelieving second-hand + Eighteenth Century, that of a Hero starting up, among the artificial + pasteboard figures and productions, in the guise of a Robert Burns. Like a + little well in the rocky desert places,—like a sudden splendor of + Heaven in the artificial Vauxhall! People knew not what to make of it. + They took it for a piece of the Vauxhall fire-work; alas, it <i>let</i> + itself be so taken, though struggling half-blindly, as in bitterness of + death, against that! Perhaps no man had such a false reception from his + fellow-men. Once more a very wasteful life-drama was enacted under the + sun. + </p> + <p> + The tragedy of Burns's life is known to all of you. Surely we may say, if + discrepancy between place held and place merited constitute perverseness + of lot for a man, no lot could be more perverse then Burns's. Among those + second-hand acting-figures, <i>mimes</i> for most part, of the Eighteenth + Century, once more a giant Original Man; one of those men who reach down + to the perennial Deeps, who take rank with the Heroic among men: and he + was born in a poor Ayrshire hut. The largest soul of all the British lands + came among us in the shape of a hard-handed Scottish Peasant. + </p> + <p> + His Father, a poor toiling man, tried various things; did not succeed in + any; was involved in continual difficulties. The Steward, Factor as the + Scotch call him, used to send letters and threatenings, Burns says, "which + threw us all into tears." The brave, hard-toiling, hard-suffering Father, + his brave heroine of a wife; and those children, of whom Robert was one! + In this Earth, so wide otherwise, no shelter for <i>them</i>. The letters + "threw us all into tears:" figure it. The brave Father, I say always;—a + <i>silent</i> Hero and Poet; without whom the son had never been a + speaking one! Burns's Schoolmaster came afterwards to London, learnt what + good society was; but declares that in no meeting of men did he ever enjoy + better discourse than at the hearth of this peasant. And his poor "seven + acres of nursery-ground,"—not that, nor the miserable patch of + clay-farm, nor anything he tried to get a living by, would prosper with + him; he had a sore unequal battle all his days. But he stood to it + valiantly; a wise, faithful, unconquerable man;—swallowing down how + many sore sufferings daily into silence; fighting like an unseen Hero,—nobody + publishing newspaper paragraphs about his nobleness; voting pieces of + plate to him! However, he was not lost; nothing is lost. Robert is there + the outcome of him,—and indeed of many generations of such as him. + </p> + <p> + This Burns appeared under every disadvantage: uninstructed, poor, born + only to hard manual toil; and writing, when it came to that, in a rustic + special dialect, known only to a small province of the country he lived + in. Had he written, even what he did write, in the general language of + England, I doubt not he had already become universally recognized as + being, or capable to be, one of our greatest men. That he should have + tempted so many to penetrate through the rough husk of that dialect of + his, is proof that there lay something far from common within it. He has + gained a certain recognition, and is continuing to do so over all quarters + of our wide Saxon world: wheresoever a Saxon dialect is spoken, it begins + to be understood, by personal inspection of this and the other, that one + of the most considerable Saxon men of the Eighteenth Century was an + Ayrshire Peasant named Robert Burns. Yes, I will say, here too was a piece + of the right Saxon stuff: strong as the Harz-rock, rooted in the depths of + the world;—rock, yet with wells of living softness in it! A wild + impetuous whirlwind of passion and faculty slumbered quiet there; such + heavenly <i>melody</i> dwelling in the heart of it. A noble rough + genuineness; homely, rustic, honest; true simplicity of strength; with its + lightning-fire, with its soft dewy pity;—like the old Norse Thor, + the Peasant-god! + </p> + <p> + Burns's Brother Gilbert, a man of much sense and worth, has told me that + Robert, in his young days, in spite of their hardship, was usually the + gayest of speech; a fellow of infinite frolic, laughter, sense and heart; + far pleasanter to hear there, stript cutting peats in the bog, or such + like, than he ever afterwards knew him. I can well believe it. This basis + of mirth ("<i>fond gaillard</i>," as old Marquis Mirabeau calls it), a + primal element of sunshine and joyfulness, coupled with his other deep and + earnest qualities, is one of the most attractive characteristics of Burns. + A large fund of Hope dwells in him; spite of his tragical history, he is + not a mourning man. He shakes his sorrows gallantly aside; bounds forth + victorious over them. It is as the lion shaking "dew-drops from his mane;" + as the swift-bounding horse, that <i>laughs</i> at the shaking of the + spear.—But indeed, Hope, Mirth, of the sort like Burns's, are they + not the outcome properly of warm generous affection,—such as is the + beginning of all to every man? + </p> + <p> + You would think it strange if I called Burns the most gifted British soul + we had in all that century of his: and yet I believe the day is coming + when there will be little danger in saying so. His writings, all that he + <i>did</i> under such obstructions, are only a poor fragment of him. + Professor Stewart remarked very justly, what indeed is true of all Poets + good for much, that his poetry was not any particular faculty; but the + general result of a naturally vigorous original mind expressing itself in + that way. Burns's gifts, expressed in conversation, are the theme of all + that ever heard him. All kinds of gifts: from the gracefulest utterances + of courtesy, to the highest fire of passionate speech; loud floods of + mirth, soft wailings of affection, laconic emphasis, clear piercing + insight; all was in him. Witty duchesses celebrate him as a man whose + speech "led them off their feet." This is beautiful: but still more + beautiful that which Mr. Lockhart has recorded, which I have more than + once alluded to, How the waiters and ostlers at inns would get out of bed, + and come crowding to hear this man speak! Waiters and ostlers:—they + too were men, and here was a man! I have heard much about his speech; but + one of the best things I ever heard of it was, last year, from a venerable + gentleman long familiar with him. That it was speech distinguished by + always <i>having something in it</i>. "He spoke rather little than much," + this old man told me; "sat rather silent in those early days, as in the + company of persons above him; and always when he did speak, it was to + throw new light on the matter." I know not why any one should ever speak + otherwise!—But if we look at his general force of soul, his healthy + <i>robustness</i> every way, the rugged downrightness, penetration, + generous valor and manfulness that was in him,—where shall we + readily find a better-gifted man? + </p> + <p> + Among the great men of the Eighteenth Century, I sometimes feel as if + Burns might be found to resemble Mirabeau more than any other. They differ + widely in vesture; yet look at them intrinsically. There is the same burly + thick-necked strength of body as of soul;—built, in both cases, on + what the old Marquis calls a <i>fond gaillard</i>. By nature, by course of + breeding, indeed by nation, Mirabeau has much more of bluster; a noisy, + forward, unresting man. But the characteristic of Mirabeau too is veracity + and sense, power of true <i>insight</i>, superiority of vision. The thing + that he says is worth remembering. It is a flash of insight into some + object or other: so do both these men speak. The same raging passions; + capable too in both of manifesting themselves as the tenderest noble + affections. Wit; wild laughter, energy, directness, sincerity: these were + in both. The types of the two men are not dissimilar. Burns too could have + governed, debated in National Assemblies; politicized, as few could. Alas, + the courage which had to exhibit itself in capture of smuggling schooners + in the Solway Frith; in keeping <i>silence</i> over so much, where no good + speech, but only inarticulate rage was possible: this might have bellowed + forth Ushers de Breze and the like; and made itself visible to all men, in + managing of kingdoms, in ruling of great ever-memorable epochs! But they + said to him reprovingly, his Official Superiors said, and wrote: "You are + to work, not think." Of your <i>thinking-faculty</i>, the greatest in this + land, we have no need; you are to gauge beer there; for that only are you + wanted. Very notable;—and worth mentioning, though we know what is + to be said and answered! As if Thought, Power of Thinking, were not, at + all times, in all places and situations of the world, precisely the thing + that was wanted. The fatal man, is he not always the unthinking man, the + man who cannot think and <i>see</i>; but only grope, and hallucinate, and + <i>mis</i>see the nature of the thing he works with? He mis-sees it, mis<i>takes</i> + it as we say; takes it for one thing, and it <i>is</i> another thing,—and + leaves him standing like a Futility there! He is the fatal man; + unutterably fatal, put in the high places of men.—"Why complain of + this?" say some: "Strength is mournfully denied its arena; that was true + from of old." Doubtless; and the worse for the <i>arena</i>, answer I! <i>Complaining</i> + profits little; stating of the truth may profit. That a Europe, with its + French Revolution just breaking out, finds no need of a Burns except for + gauging beer,—is a thing I, for one, cannot <i>rejoice</i> at—! + </p> + <p> + Once more we have to say here, that the chief quality of Burns is the <i>sincerity</i> + of him. So in his Poetry, so in his Life. The song he sings is not of + fantasticalities; it is of a thing felt, really there; the prime merit of + this, as of all in him, and of his Life generally, is truth. The Life of + Burns is what we may call a great tragic sincerity. A sort of savage + sincerity,—not cruel, far from that; but wild, wrestling naked with + the truth of things. In that sense, there is something of the savage in + all great men. + </p> + <p> + Hero-worship,—Odin, Burns? Well; these Men of Letters too were not + without a kind of Hero-worship: but what a strange condition has that got + into now! The waiters and ostlers of Scotch inns, prying about the door, + eager to catch any word that fell from Burns, were doing unconscious + reverence to the Heroic. Johnson had his Boswell for worshipper. Rousseau + had worshippers enough; princes calling on him in his mean garret; the + great, the beautiful doing reverence to the poor moon-struck man. For + himself a most portentous contradiction; the two ends of his life not to + be brought into harmony. He sits at the tables of grandees; and has to + copy music for his own living. He cannot even get his music copied: "By + dint of dining out," says he, "I run the risk of dying by starvation at + home." For his worshippers too a most questionable thing! If doing + Hero-worship well or badly be the test of vital well-being or ill-being to + a generation, can we say that <i>these</i> generations are very + first-rate?—And yet our heroic Men of Letters do teach, govern, are + kings, priests, or what you like to call them; intrinsically there is no + preventing it by any means whatever. The world has to obey him who thinks + and sees in the world. The world can alter the manner of that; can either + have it as blessed continuous summer sunshine, or as unblessed black + thunder and tornado,—with unspeakable difference of profit for the + world! The manner of it is very alterable; the matter and fact of it is + not alterable by any power under the sky. Light; or, failing that, + lightning: the world can take its choice. Not whether we call an Odin god, + prophet, priest, or what we call him; but whether we believe the word he + tells us: there it all lies. If it be a true word, we shall have to + believe it; believing it, we shall have to do it. What <i>name</i> or + welcome we give him or it, is a point that concerns ourselves mainly. <i>It</i>, + the new Truth, new deeper revealing of the Secret of this Universe, is + verily of the nature of a message from on high; and must and will have + itself obeyed.— + </p> + <p> + My last remark is on that notablest phasis of Burns's history,—his + visit to Edinburgh. Often it seems to me as if his demeanor there were the + highest proof he gave of what a fund of worth and genuine manhood was in + him. If we think of it, few heavier burdens could be laid on the strength + of a man. So sudden; all common <i>Lionism</i>. which ruins innumerable + men, was as nothing to this. It is as if Napoleon had been made a King of, + not gradually, but at once from the Artillery Lieutenancy in the Regiment + La Fere. Burns, still only in his twenty-seventh year, is no longer even a + ploughman; he is flying to the West Indies to escape disgrace and a jail. + This month he is a ruined peasant, his wages seven pounds a year, and + these gone from him: next month he is in the blaze of rank and beauty, + handing down jewelled Duchesses to dinner; the cynosure of all eyes! + Adversity is sometimes hard upon a man; but for one man who can stand + prosperity, there are a hundred that will stand adversity. I admire much + the way in which Burns met all this. Perhaps no man one could point out, + was ever so sorely tried, and so little forgot himself. Tranquil, + unastonished; not abashed, not inflated, neither awkwardness nor + affectation: he feels that <i>he</i> there is the man Robert Burns; that + the "rank is but the guinea-stamp;" that the celebrity is but the + candle-light, which will show <i>what</i> man, not in the least make him a + better or other man! Alas, it may readily, unless he look to it, make him + a <i>worse</i> man; a wretched inflated wind-bag,—inflated till he + <i>burst</i>, and become a <i>dead</i> lion; for whom, as some one has + said, "there is no resurrection of the body;" worse than a living dog!—Burns + is admirable here. + </p> + <p> + And yet, alas, as I have observed elsewhere, these Lion-hunters were the + ruin and death of Burns. It was they that rendered it impossible for him + to live! They gathered round him in his Farm; hindered his industry; no + place was remote enough from them. He could not get his Lionism forgotten, + honestly as he was disposed to do so. He falls into discontents, into + miseries, faults; the world getting ever more desolate for him; health, + character, peace of mind, all gone;—solitary enough now. It is + tragical to think of! These men came but to <i>see</i> him; it was out of + no sympathy with him, nor no hatred to him. They came to get a little + amusement; they got their amusement;—and the Hero's life went for + it! + </p> + <p> + Richter says, in the Island of Sumatra there is a kind of "Light-chafers," + large Fire-flies, which people stick upon spits, and illuminate the ways + with at night. Persons of condition can thus travel with a pleasant + radiance, which they much admire. Great honor to the Fire-flies! But—! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LECTURE VI. THE HERO AS KING. CROMWELL, NAPOLEON: MODERN REVOLUTIONISM. + </h2> + <h3> + [May 22, 1840.] + </h3> + <p> + We come now to the last form of Heroism; that which we call Kingship. The + Commander over Men; he to whose will our wills are to be subordinated, and + loyally surrender themselves, and find their welfare in doing so, may be + reckoned the most important of Great Men. He is practically the summary + for us of <i>all</i> the various figures of Heroism; Priest, Teacher, + whatsoever of earthly or of spiritual dignity we can fancy to reside in a + man, embodies itself here, to <i>command</i> over us, to furnish us with + constant practical teaching, to tell us for the day and hour what we are + to <i>do</i>. He is called <i>Rex</i>, Regulator, <i>Roi</i>: our own name + is still better; King, <i>Konning</i>, which means <i>Can</i>-ning, + Able-man. + </p> + <p> + Numerous considerations, pointing towards deep, questionable, and indeed + unfathomable regions, present themselves here: on the most of which we + must resolutely for the present forbear to speak at all. As Burke said + that perhaps fair <i>Trial by Jury</i> was the soul of Government, and + that all legislation, administration, parliamentary debating, and the rest + of it, went on, in "order to bring twelve impartial men into a jury-box;"—so, + by much stronger reason, may I say here, that the finding of your <i>Ableman</i> + and getting him invested with the <i>symbols of ability</i>, with dignity, + worship (<i>worth</i>-ship), royalty, kinghood, or whatever we call it, so + that <i>he</i> may actually have room to guide according to his faculty of + doing it,—is the business, well or ill accomplished, of all social + procedure whatsoever in this world! Hustings-speeches, Parliamentary + motions, Reform Bills, French Revolutions, all mean at heart this; or else + nothing. Find in any country the Ablest Man that exists there; raise <i>him</i> + to the supreme place, and loyally reverence him: you have a perfect + government for that country; no ballot-box, parliamentary eloquence, + voting, constitution-building, or other machinery whatsoever can improve + it a whit. It is in the perfect state; an ideal country. The Ablest Man; + he means also the truest-hearted, justest, the Noblest Man: what he <i>tells + us to do</i> must be precisely the wisest, fittest, that we could anywhere + or anyhow learn;—the thing which it will in all ways behoove US, + with right loyal thankfulness and nothing doubting, to do! Our <i>doing</i> + and life were then, so far as government could regulate it, well + regulated; that were the ideal of constitutions. + </p> + <p> + Alas, we know very well that Ideals can never be completely embodied in + practice. Ideals must ever lie a very great way off; and we will right + thankfully content ourselves with any not intolerable approximation + thereto! Let no man, as Schiller says, too querulously "measure by a scale + of perfection the meagre product of reality" in this poor world of ours. + We will esteem him no wise man; we will esteem him a sickly, discontented, + foolish man. And yet, on the other hand, it is never to be forgotten that + Ideals do exist; that if they be not approximated to at all, the whole + matter goes to wreck! Infallibly. No bricklayer builds a wall <i>perfectly</i> + perpendicular, mathematically this is not possible; a certain degree of + perpendicularity suffices him; and he, like a good bricklayer, who must + have done with his job, leaves it so. And yet if he sway <i>too much</i> + from the perpendicular; above all, if he throw plummet and level quite + away from him, and pile brick on brick heedless, just as it comes to hand—! + Such bricklayer, I think, is in a bad way. He has forgotten himself: but + the Law of Gravitation does not forget to act on him; he and his wall rush + down into confused welter of ruin—! + </p> + <p> + This is the history of all rebellions, French Revolutions, social + explosions in ancient or modern times. You have put the too <i>Un</i>able + Man at the head of affairs! The too ignoble, unvaliant, fatuous man. You + have forgotten that there is any rule, or natural necessity whatever, of + putting the Able Man there. Brick must lie on brick as it may and can. + Unable Simulacrum of Ability, <i>quack</i>, in a word, must adjust himself + with quack, in all manner of administration of human things;—which + accordingly lie unadministered, fermenting into unmeasured masses of + failure, of indigent misery: in the outward, and in the inward or + spiritual, miserable millions stretch out the hand for their due supply, + and it is not there. The "law of gravitation" acts; Nature's laws do none + of them forget to act. The miserable millions burst forth into + Sansculottism, or some other sort of madness: bricks and bricklayer lie as + a fatal chaos—! + </p> + <p> + Much sorry stuff, written some hundred years ago or more, about the + "Divine right of Kings," moulders unread now in the Public Libraries of + this country. Far be it from us to disturb the calm process by which it is + disappearing harmlessly from the earth, in those repositories! At the same + time, not to let the immense rubbish go without leaving us, as it ought, + some soul of it behind—I will say that it did mean something; + something true, which it is important for us and all men to keep in mind. + To assert that in whatever man you chose to lay hold of (by this or the + other plan of clutching at him); and claps a round piece of metal on the + head of, and called King,—there straightway came to reside a divine + virtue, so that <i>he</i> became a kind of god, and a Divinity inspired + him with faculty and right to rule over you to all lengths: this,—what + can we do with this but leave it to rot silently in the Public Libraries? + But I will say withal, and that is what these Divine-right men meant, That + in Kings, and in all human Authorities, and relations that men god-created + can form among each other, there is verily either a Divine Right or else a + Diabolic Wrong; one or the other of these two! For it is false altogether, + what the last Sceptical Century taught us, that this world is a + steam-engine. There is a God in this world; and a God's-sanction, or else + the violation of such, does look out from all ruling and obedience, from + all moral acts of men. There is no act more moral between men than that of + rule and obedience. Woe to him that claims obedience when it is not due; + woe to him that refuses it when it is! God's law is in that, I say, + however the Parchment-laws may run: there is a Divine Right or else a + Diabolic Wrong at the heart of every claim that one man makes upon + another. + </p> + <p> + It can do none of us harm to reflect on this: in all the relations of life + it will concern us; in Loyalty and Royalty, the highest of these. I esteem + the modern error, That all goes by self-interest and the checking and + balancing of greedy knaveries, and that in short, there is nothing divine + whatever in the association of men, a still more despicable error, natural + as it is to an unbelieving century, than that of a "divine right" in + people <i>called</i> Kings. I say, Find me the true <i>Konning</i>, King, + or Able-man, and he <i>has</i> a divine right over me. That we knew in + some tolerable measure how to find him, and that all men were ready to + acknowledge his divine right when found: this is precisely the healing + which a sick world is everywhere, in these ages, seeking after! The true + King, as guide of the practical, has ever something of the Pontiff in him,—guide + of the spiritual, from which all practice has its rise. This too is a true + saying, That the <i>King</i> is head of the <i>Church</i>.—But we + will leave the Polemic stuff of a dead century to lie quiet on its + bookshelves. + </p> + <p> + Certainly it is a fearful business, that of having your Ableman to <i>seek</i>, + and not knowing in what manner to proceed about it! That is the world's + sad predicament in these times of ours. They are times of revolution, and + have long been. The bricklayer with his bricks, no longer heedful of + plummet or the law of gravitation, have toppled, tumbled, and it all + welters as we see! But the beginning of it was not the French Revolution; + that is rather the <i>end</i>, we can hope. It were truer to say, the <i>beginning</i> + was three centuries farther back: in the Reformation of Luther. That the + thing which still called itself Christian Church had become a Falsehood, + and brazenly went about pretending to pardon men's sins for metallic + coined money, and to do much else which in the everlasting truth of Nature + it did <i>not</i> now do: here lay the vital malady. The inward being + wrong, all outward went ever more and more wrong. Belief died away; all + was Doubt, Disbelief. The builder cast <i>away</i> his plummet; said to + himself, "What is gravitation? Brick lies on brick there!" Alas, does it + not still sound strange to many of us, the assertion that there <i>is</i> + a God's-truth in the business of god-created men; that all is not a kind + of grimace, an "expediency," diplomacy, one knows not what—! + </p> + <p> + From that first necessary assertion of Luther's, "You, self-styled <i>Papa</i>, + you are no Father in God at all; you are—a Chimera, whom I know not + how to name in polite language!"—from that onwards to the shout + which rose round Camille Desmoulins in the Palais-Royal, "<i>Aux armes</i>!" + when the people had burst up against <i>all</i> manner of Chimeras,—I + find a natural historical sequence. That shout too, so frightful, + half-infernal, was a great matter. Once more the voice of awakened + nations;—starting confusedly, as out of nightmare, as out of + death-sleep, into some dim feeling that Life was real; that God's-world + was not an expediency and diplomacy! Infernal;—yes, since they would + not have it otherwise. Infernal, since not celestial or terrestrial! + Hollowness, insincerity <i>has</i> to cease; sincerity of some sort has to + begin. Cost what it may, reigns of terror, horrors of French Revolution or + what else, we have to return to truth. Here is a Truth, as I said: a Truth + clad in hell-fire, since they would not but have it so—! + </p> + <p> + A common theory among considerable parties of men in England and elsewhere + used to be, that the French Nation had, in those days, as it were gone <i>mad</i>; + that the French Revolution was a general act of insanity, a temporary + conversion of France and large sections of the world into a kind of + Bedlam. The Event had risen and raged; but was a madness and nonentity,—gone + now happily into the region of Dreams and the Picturesque!—To such + comfortable philosophers, the Three Days of July, 1830, must have been a + surprising phenomenon. Here is the French Nation risen again, in musketry + and death-struggle, out shooting and being shot, to make that same mad + French Revolution good! The sons and grandsons of those men, it would + seem, persist in the enterprise: they do not disown it; they will have it + made good; will have themselves shot, if it be not made good. To + philosophers who had made up their life-system, on that "madness" quietus, + no phenomenon could be more alarming. Poor Niebuhr, they say, the Prussian + Professor and Historian, fell broken-hearted in consequence; sickened, if + we can believe it, and died of the Three Days! It was surely not a very + heroic death;—little better than Racine's, dying because Louis + Fourteenth looked sternly on him once. The world had stood some + considerable shocks, in its time; might have been expected to survive the + Three Days too, and be found turning on its axis after even them! The + Three Days told all mortals that the old French Revolution, mad as it + might look, was not a transitory ebullition of Bedlam, but a genuine + product of this Earth where we all live; that it was verily a Fact, and + that the world in general would do well everywhere to regard it as such. + </p> + <p> + Truly, without the French Revolution, one would not know what to make of + an age like this at all. We will hail the French Revolution, as + shipwrecked mariners might the sternest rock, in a world otherwise all of + baseless sea and waves. A true Apocalypse, though a terrible one, to this + false withered artificial time; testifying once more that Nature is <i>preter</i>natural; + if not divine, then diabolic; that Semblance is not Reality; that it has + to become Reality, or the world will take fire under it,—burn <i>it</i> + into what it is, namely Nothing! Plausibility has ended; empty Routine has + ended; much has ended. This, as with a Trump of Doom, has been proclaimed + to all men. They are the wisest who will learn it soonest. Long confused + generations before it be learned; peace impossible till it be! The earnest + man, surrounded, as ever, with a world of inconsistencies, can await + patiently, patiently strive to do <i>his</i> work, in the midst of that. + Sentence of Death is written down in Heaven against all that; sentence of + Death is now proclaimed on the Earth against it: this he with his eyes may + see. And surely, I should say, considering the other side of the matter, + what enormous difficulties lie there, and how fast, fearfully fast, in all + countries, the inexorable demand for solution of them is pressing on,—he + may easily find other work to do than laboring in the Sansculottic + province at this time of day! + </p> + <p> + To me, in these circumstances, that of "Hero-worship" becomes a fact + inexpressibly precious; the most solacing fact one sees in the world at + present. There is an everlasting hope in it for the management of the + world. Had all traditions, arrangements, creeds, societies that men ever + instituted, sunk away, this would remain. The certainty of Heroes being + sent us; our faculty, our necessity, to reverence Heroes when sent: it + shines like a polestar through smoke-clouds, dust-clouds, and all manner + of down-rushing and conflagration. + </p> + <p> + Hero-worship would have sounded very strange to those workers and fighters + in the French Revolution. Not reverence for Great Men; not any hope or + belief, or even wish, that Great Men could again appear in the world! + Nature, turned into a "Machine," was as if effete now; could not any + longer produce Great Men:—I can tell her, she may give up the trade + altogether, then; we cannot do without Great Men!—But neither have I + any quarrel with that of "Liberty and Equality;" with the faith that, wise + great men being impossible, a level immensity of foolish small men would + suffice. It was a natural faith then and there. "Liberty and Equality; no + Authority needed any longer. Hero-worship, reverence for <i>such</i> + Authorities, has proved false, is itself a falsehood; no more of it! We + have had such <i>forgeries</i>, we will now trust nothing. So many base + plated coins passing in the market, the belief has now become common that + no gold any longer exists,—and even that we can do very well without + gold!" I find this, among other things, in that universal cry of Liberty + and Equality; and find it very natural, as matters then stood. + </p> + <p> + And yet surely it is but the <i>transition</i> from false to true. + Considered as the whole truth, it is false altogether;—the product + of entire sceptical blindness, as yet only <i>struggling</i> to see. + Hero-worship exists forever, and everywhere: not Loyalty alone; it extends + from divine adoration down to the lowest practical regions of life. + "Bending before men," if it is not to be a mere empty grimace, better + dispensed with than practiced, is Hero-worship,—a recognition that + there does dwell in that presence of our brother something divine; that + every created man, as Novalis said, is a "revelation in the Flesh." They + were Poets too, that devised all those graceful courtesies which make life + noble! Courtesy is not a falsehood or grimace; it need not be such. And + Loyalty, religious Worship itself, are still possible; nay still + inevitable. + </p> + <p> + May we not say, moreover, while so many of our late Heroes have worked + rather as revolutionary men, that nevertheless every Great Man, every + genuine man, is by the nature of him a son of Order, not of Disorder? It + is a tragical position for a true man to work in revolutions. He seems an + anarchist; and indeed a painful element of anarchy does encumber him at + every step,—him to whose whole soul anarchy is hostile, hateful. His + mission is Order; every man's is. He is here to make what was disorderly, + chaotic, into a thing ruled, regular. He is the missionary of Order. Is + not all work of man in this world a <i>making of Order</i>? The carpenter + finds rough trees; shapes them, constrains them into square fitness, into + purpose and use. We are all born enemies of Disorder: it is tragical for + us all to be concerned in image-breaking and down-pulling; for the Great + Man, <i>more</i> a man than we, it is doubly tragical. + </p> + <p> + Thus too all human things, maddest French Sansculottisms, do and must work + towards Order. I say, there is not a <i>man</i> in them, raging in the + thickest of the madness, but is impelled withal, at all moments, towards + Order. His very life means that; Disorder is dissolution, death. No chaos + but it seeks a <i>centre</i> to revolve round. While man is man, some + Cromwell or Napoleon is the necessary finish of a Sansculottism.—Curious: + in those days when Hero-worship was the most incredible thing to every + one, how it does come out nevertheless, and assert itself practically, in + a way which all have to credit. Divine <i>right</i>, take it on the great + scale, is found to mean divine <i>might</i> withal! While old false + Formulas are getting trampled everywhere into destruction, new genuine + Substances unexpectedly unfold themselves indestructible. In rebellious + ages, when Kingship itself seems dead and abolished, Cromwell, Napoleon + step forth again as Kings. The history of these men is what we have now to + look at, as our last phasis of Heroism. The old ages are brought back to + us; the manner in which Kings were made, and Kingship itself first took + rise, is again exhibited in the history of these Two. + </p> + <p> + We have had many civil wars in England; wars of Red and White Roses, wars + of Simon de Montfort; wars enough, which are not very memorable. But that + war of the Puritans has a significance which belongs to no one of the + others. Trusting to your candor, which will suggest on the other side what + I have not room to say, I will call it a section once more of that great + universal war which alone makes up the true History of the World,—the + war of Belief against Unbelief! The struggle of men intent on the real + essence of things, against men intent on the semblances and forms of + things. The Puritans, to many, seem mere savage Iconoclasts, fierce + destroyers of Forms; but it were more just to call them haters of <i>untrue</i> + Forms. I hope we know how to respect Laud and his King as well as them. + Poor Laud seems to me to have been weak and ill-starred, not dishonest an + unfortunate Pedant rather than anything worse. His "Dreams" and + superstitions, at which they laugh so, have an affectionate, lovable kind + of character. He is like a College-Tutor, whose whole world is forms, + College-rules; whose notion is that these are the life and safety of the + world. He is placed suddenly, with that unalterable luckless notion of + his, at the head not of a College but of a Nation, to regulate the most + complex deep-reaching interests of men. He thinks they ought to go by the + old decent regulations; nay that their salvation will lie in extending and + improving these. Like a weak man, he drives with spasmodic vehemence + towards his purpose; cramps himself to it, heeding no voice of prudence, + no cry of pity: He will have his College-rules obeyed by his Collegians; + that first; and till that, nothing. He is an ill-starred Pedant, as I + said. He would have it the world was a College of that kind, and the world + was <i>not</i> that. Alas, was not his doom stern enough? Whatever wrongs + he did, were they not all frightfully avenged on him? + </p> + <p> + It is meritorious to insist on forms; Religion and all else naturally + clothes itself in forms. Everywhere the <i>formed</i> world is the only + habitable one. The naked formlessness of Puritanism is not the thing I + praise in the Puritans; it is the thing I pity,—praising only the + spirit which had rendered that inevitable! All substances clothe + themselves in forms: but there are suitable true forms, and then there are + untrue unsuitable. As the briefest definition, one might say, Forms which + <i>grow</i> round a substance, if we rightly understand that, will + correspond to the real nature and purport of it, will be true, good; forms + which are consciously <i>put</i> round a substance, bad. I invite you to + reflect on this. It distinguishes true from false in Ceremonial Form, + earnest solemnity from empty pageant, in all human things. + </p> + <p> + There must be a veracity, a natural spontaneity in forms. In the commonest + meeting of men, a person making, what we call, "set speeches," is not he + an offence? In the mere drawing-room, whatsoever courtesies you see to be + grimaces, prompted by no spontaneous reality within, are a thing you wish + to get away from. But suppose now it were some matter of vital + concernment, some transcendent matter (as Divine Worship is), about which + your whole soul, struck dumb with its excess of feeling, knew not how to + <i>form</i> itself into utterance at all, and preferred formless silence + to any utterance there possible,—what should we say of a man coming + forward to represent or utter it for you in the way of + upholsterer-mummery? Such a man,—let him depart swiftly, if he love + himself! You have lost your only son; are mute, struck down, without even + tears: an importunate man importunately offers to celebrate Funeral Games + for him in the manner of the Greeks! Such mummery is not only not to be + accepted,—it is hateful, unendurable. It is what the old Prophets + called "Idolatry," worshipping of hollow <i>shows</i>; what all earnest + men do and will reject. We can partly understand what those poor Puritans + meant. Laud dedicating that St. Catherine Creed's Church, in the manner we + have it described; with his multiplied ceremonial bowings, gesticulations, + exclamations: surely it is rather the rigorous formal Pedant, intent on + his "College-rules," than the earnest Prophet intent on the essence of the + matter! + </p> + <p> + Puritanism found <i>such</i> forms insupportable; trampled on such forms;—we + have to excuse it for saying, No form at all rather than such! It stood + preaching in its bare pulpit, with nothing but the Bible in its hand. Nay, + a man preaching from his earnest <i>soul</i> into the earnest <i>souls</i> + of men: is not this virtually the essence of all Churches whatsoever? The + nakedest, savagest reality, I say, is preferable to any semblance, however + dignified. Besides, it will clothe itself with <i>due</i> semblance by and + by, if it be real. No fear of that; actually no fear at all. Given the + living <i>man</i>, there will be found <i>clothes</i> for him; he will + find himself clothes. But the suit-of-clothes pretending that <i>it</i> is + both clothes and man—! We cannot "fight the French" by three hundred + thousand red uniforms; there must be <i>men</i> in the inside of them! + Semblance, I assert, must actually <i>not</i> divorce itself from Reality. + If Semblance do,—why then there must be men found to rebel against + Semblance, for it has become a lie! These two Antagonisms at war here, in + the case of Laud and the Puritans, are as old nearly as the world. They + went to fierce battle over England in that age; and fought out their + confused controversy to a certain length, with many results for all of us. + </p> + <p> + In the age which directly followed that of the Puritans, their cause or + themselves were little likely to have justice done them. Charles Second + and his Rochesters were not the kind of men you would set to judge what + the worth or meaning of such men might have been. That there could be any + faith or truth in the life of a man, was what these poor Rochesters, and + the age they ushered in, had forgotten. Puritanism was hung on gibbets,—like + the bones of the leading Puritans. Its work nevertheless went on + accomplishing itself. All true work of a man, hang the author of it on + what gibbet you like, must and will accomplish itself. We have our <i>Habeas-Corpus</i>, + our free Representation of the People; acknowledgment, wide as the world, + that all men are, or else must, shall, and will become, what we call <i>free</i> + men;—men with their life grounded on reality and justice, not on + tradition, which has become unjust and a chimera! This in part, and much + besides this, was the work of the Puritans. + </p> + <p> + And indeed, as these things became gradually manifest, the character of + the Puritans began to clear itself. Their memories were, one after + another, taken <i>down</i> from the gibbet; nay a certain portion of them + are now, in these days, as good as canonized. Eliot, Hampden, Pym, nay + Ludlow, Hutchinson, Vane himself, are admitted to be a kind of Heroes; + political Conscript Fathers, to whom in no small degree we owe what makes + us a free England: it would not be safe for anybody to designate these men + as wicked now. Few Puritans of note but find their apologists somewhere, + and have a certain reverence paid them by earnest men. One Puritan, I + think, and almost he alone, our poor Cromwell, seems to hang yet on the + gibbet, and find no hearty apologist anywhere. Him neither saint nor + sinner will acquit of great wickedness. A man of ability, infinite talent, + courage, and so forth: but he betrayed the Cause. Selfish ambition, + dishonesty, duplicity; a fierce, coarse, hypocritical <i>Tartuffe</i>; + turning all that noble Struggle for constitutional Liberty into a sorry + farce played for his own benefit: this and worse is the character they + give of Cromwell. And then there come contrasts with Washington and + others; above all, with these noble Pyms and Hampdens, whose noble work he + stole for himself, and ruined into a futility and deformity. + </p> + <p> + This view of Cromwell seems to me the not unnatural product of a century + like the Eighteenth. As we said of the Valet, so of the Sceptic: He does + not know a Hero when he sees him! The Valet expected purple mantles, gilt + sceptres, bodyguards and flourishes of trumpets: the Sceptic of the + Eighteenth century looks for regulated respectable Formulas, "Principles," + or what else he may call them; a style of speech and conduct which has got + to seem "respectable," which can plead for itself in a handsome articulate + manner, and gain the suffrages of an enlightened sceptical Eighteenth + century! It is, at bottom, the same thing that both the Valet and he + expect: the garnitures of some <i>acknowledged</i> royalty, which <i>then</i> + they will acknowledge! The King coming to them in the rugged <i>un</i>formulistic + state shall be no King. + </p> + <p> + For my own share, far be it from me to say or insinuate a word of + disparagement against such characters as Hampden, Elliot, Pym; whom I + believe to have been right worthy and useful men. I have read diligently + what books and documents about them I could come at;—with the + honestest wish to admire, to love and worship them like Heroes; but I am + sorry to say, if the real truth must be told, with very indifferent + success! At bottom, I found that it would not do. They are very noble men, + these; step along in their stately way, with their measured euphemisms, + philosophies, parliamentary eloquences, Ship-moneys, <i>Monarchies of Man</i>; + a most constitutional, unblamable, dignified set of men. But the heart + remains cold before them; the fancy alone endeavors to get up some worship + of them. What man's heart does, in reality, break forth into any fire of + brotherly love for these men? They are become dreadfully dull men! One + breaks down often enough in the constitutional eloquence of the admirable + Pym, with his "seventhly and lastly." You find that it may be the + admirablest thing in the world, but that it is heavy,—heavy as lead, + barren as brick-clay; that, in a word, for you there is little or nothing + now surviving there! One leaves all these Nobilities standing in their + niches of honor: the rugged outcast Cromwell, he is the man of them all in + whom one still finds human stuff. The great savage <i>Baresark</i>: he + could write no euphemistic <i>Monarchy of Man</i>; did not speak, did not + work with glib regularity; had no straight story to tell for himself + anywhere. But he stood bare, not cased in euphemistic coat-of-mail; he + grappled like a giant, face to face, heart to heart, with the naked truth + of things! That, after all, is the sort of man for one. I plead guilty to + valuing such a man beyond all other sorts of men. Smooth-shaven + Respectabilities not a few one finds, that are not good for much. Small + thanks to a man for keeping his hands clean, who would not touch the work + but with gloves on! + </p> + <p> + Neither, on the whole, does this constitutional tolerance of the + Eighteenth century for the other happier Puritans seem to be a very great + matter. One might say, it is but a piece of Formulism and Scepticism, like + the rest. They tell us, It was a sorrowful thing to consider that the + foundation of our English Liberties should have been laid by + "Superstition." These Puritans came forward with Calvinistic incredible + Creeds, Anti-Laudisms, Westminster Confessions; demanding, chiefly of all, + that they should have liberty to <i>worship</i> in their own way. Liberty + to <i>tax</i> themselves: that was the thing they should have demanded! It + was Superstition, Fanaticism, disgraceful ignorance of Constitutional + Philosophy to insist on the other thing!—Liberty to <i>tax</i> + oneself? Not to pay out money from your pocket except on reason shown? No + century, I think, but a rather barren one would have fixed on that as the + first right of man! I should say, on the contrary, A just man will + generally have better cause than <i>money</i> in what shape soever, before + deciding to revolt against his Government. Ours is a most confused world; + in which a good man will be thankful to see any kind of Government + maintain itself in a not insupportable manner: and here in England, to + this hour, if he is not ready to pay a great many taxes which he can see + very small reason in, it will not go well with him, I think! He must try + some other climate than this. Tax-gatherer? Money? He will say: "Take my + money, since you <i>can</i>, and it is so desirable to you; take it,—and + take yourself away with it; and leave me alone to my work here. I am still + here; can still work, after all the money you have taken from me!" But if + they come to him, and say, "Acknowledge a Lie; pretend to say you are + worshipping God, when you are not doing it: believe not the thing that you + find true, but the thing that I find, or pretend to find true!" He will + answer: "No; by God's help, no! You may take my purse; but I cannot have + my moral Self annihilated. The purse is any Highwayman's who might meet me + with a loaded pistol: but the Self is mine and God my Maker's; it is not + yours; and I will resist you to the death, and revolt against you, and, on + the whole, front all manner of extremities, accusations and confusions, in + defence of that!"— + </p> + <p> + Really, it seems to me the one reason which could justify revolting, this + of the Puritans. It has been the soul of all just revolts among men. Not + <i>Hunger</i> alone produced even the French Revolution; no, but the + feeling of the insupportable all-pervading <i>Falsehood</i> which had now + embodied itself in Hunger, in universal material Scarcity and Nonentity, + and thereby become <i>indisputably</i> false in the eyes of all! We will + leave the Eighteenth century with its "liberty to tax itself." We will not + astonish ourselves that the meaning of such men as the Puritans remained + dim to it. To men who believe in no reality at all, how shall a <i>real</i> + human soul, the intensest of all realities, as it were the Voice of this + world's Maker still speaking to us,—be intelligible? What it cannot + reduce into constitutional doctrines relative to "taxing," or other the + like material interest, gross, palpable to the sense, such a century will + needs reject as an amorphous heap of rubbish. Hampdens, Pyms and + Ship-money will be the theme of much constitutional eloquence, striving to + be fervid;—which will glitter, if not as fire does, then as ice + does: and the irreducible Cromwell will remain a chaotic mass of + "madness," "hypocrisy," and much else. + </p> + <p> + From of old, I will confess, this theory of Cromwell's falsity has been + incredible to me. Nay I cannot believe the like, of any Great Man + whatever. Multitudes of Great Men figure in History as false selfish men; + but if we will consider it, they are but <i>figures</i> for us, + unintelligible shadows; we do not see into them as men that could have + existed at all. A superficial unbelieving generation only, with no eye but + for the surfaces and semblances of things, could form such notions of + Great Men. Can a great soul be possible without a <i>conscience</i> in it, + the essence of all <i>real</i> souls, great or small?—No, we cannot + figure Cromwell as a Falsity and Fatuity; the longer I study him and his + career, I believe this the less. Why should we? There is no evidence of + it. Is it not strange that, after all the mountains of calumny this man + has been subject to, after being represented as the very prince of liars, + who never, or hardly ever, spoke truth, but always some cunning + counterfeit of truth, there should not yet have been one falsehood brought + clearly home to him? A prince of liars, and no lie spoken by him. Not one + that I could yet get sight of. It is like Pococke asking Grotius, Where is + your <i>proof</i> of Mahomet's Pigeon? No proof!—Let us leave all + these calumnious chimeras, as chimeras ought to be left. They are not + portraits of the man; they are distracted phantasms of him, the joint + product of hatred and darkness. + </p> + <p> + Looking at the man's life with our own eyes, it seems to me, a very + different hypothesis suggests itself. What little we know of his earlier + obscure years, distorted as it has come down to us, does it not all + betoken an earnest, affectionate, sincere kind of man? His nervous + melancholic temperament indicates rather a seriousness <i>too</i> deep for + him. Of those stories of "Spectres;" of the white Spectre in broad + daylight, predicting that he should be King of England, we are not bound + to believe much;—probably no more than of the other black Spectre, + or Devil in person, to whom the Officer <i>saw</i> him sell himself before + Worcester Fight! But the mournful, oversensitive, hypochondriac humor of + Oliver, in his young years, is otherwise indisputably known. The + Huntingdon Physician told Sir Philip Warwick himself, He had often been + sent for at midnight; Mr. Cromwell was full of hypochondria, thought + himself near dying, and "had fancies about the Town-cross." These things + are significant. Such an excitable deep-feeling nature, in that rugged + stubborn strength of his, is not the symptom of falsehood; it is the + symptom and promise of quite other than falsehood! + </p> + <p> + The young Oliver is sent to study Law; falls, or is said to have fallen, + for a little period, into some of the dissipations of youth; but if so, + speedily repents, abandons all this: not much above twenty, he is married, + settled as an altogether grave and quiet man. "He pays back what money he + had won at gambling," says the story;—he does not think any gain of + that kind could be really <i>his</i>. It is very interesting, very + natural, this "conversion," as they well name it; this awakening of a + great true soul from the worldly slough, to see into the awful <i>truth</i> + of things;—to see that Time and its shows all rested on Eternity, + and this poor Earth of ours was the threshold either of Heaven or of Hell! + Oliver's life at St. Ives and Ely, as a sober industrious Farmer, is it + not altogether as that of a true and devout man? He has renounced the + world and its ways; <i>its</i> prizes are not the thing that can enrich + him. He tills the earth; he reads his Bible; daily assembles his servants + round him to worship God. He comforts persecuted ministers, is fond of + preachers; nay can himself preach,—exhorts his neighbors to be wise, + to redeem the time. In all this what "hypocrisy," "ambition," "cant," or + other falsity? The man's hopes, I do believe, were fixed on the other + Higher World; his aim to get well <i>thither</i>, by walking well through + his humble course in <i>this</i> world. He courts no notice: what could + notice here do for him? "Ever in his great Taskmaster's eye." + </p> + <p> + It is striking, too, how he comes out once into public view; he, since no + other is willing to come: in resistance to a public grievance. I mean, in + that matter of the Bedford Fens. No one else will go to law with + Authority; therefore he will. That matter once settled, he returns back + into obscurity, to his Bible and his Plough. "Gain influence"? His + influence is the most legitimate; derived from personal knowledge of him, + as a just, religious, reasonable and determined man. In this way he has + lived till past forty; old age is now in view of him, and the earnest + portal of Death and Eternity; it was at this point that he suddenly became + "ambitious"! I do not interpret his Parliamentary mission in that way! + </p> + <p> + His successes in Parliament, his successes through the war, are honest + successes of a brave man; who has more resolution in the heart of him, + more light in the head of him than other men. His prayers to God; his + spoken thanks to the God of Victory, who had preserved him safe, and + carried him forward so far, through the furious clash of a world all set + in conflict, through desperate-looking envelopments at Dunbar; through the + death-hail of so many battles; mercy after mercy; to the "crowning mercy" + of Worcester Fight: all this is good and genuine for a deep-hearted + Calvinistic Cromwell. Only to vain unbelieving Cavaliers, worshipping not + God but their own "love-locks," frivolities and formalities, living quite + apart from contemplations of God, living <i>without</i> God in the world, + need it seem hypocritical. + </p> + <p> + Nor will his participation in the King's death involve him in condemnation + with us. It is a stern business killing of a King! But if you once go to + war with him, it lies <i>there</i>; this and all else lies there. Once at + war, you have made wager of battle with him: it is he to die, or else you. + Reconciliation is problematic; may be possible, or, far more likely, is + impossible. It is now pretty generally admitted that the Parliament, + having vanquished Charles First, had no way of making any tenable + arrangement with him. The large Presbyterian party, apprehensive now of + the Independents, were most anxious to do so; anxious indeed as for their + own existence; but it could not be. The unhappy Charles, in those final + Hampton-Court negotiations, shows himself as a man fatally incapable of + being dealt with. A man who, once for all, could not and would not <i>understand</i>:—whose + thought did not in any measure represent to him the real fact of the + matter; nay worse, whose <i>word</i> did not at all represent his thought. + We may say this of him without cruelty, with deep pity rather: but it is + true and undeniable. Forsaken there of all but the <i>name</i> of + Kingship, he still, finding himself treated with outward respect as a + King, fancied that he might play off party against party, and smuggle + himself into his old power by deceiving both. Alas, they both <i>discovered</i> + that he was deceiving them. A man whose <i>word</i> will not inform you at + all what he means or will do, is not a man you can bargain with. You must + get out of that man's way, or put him out of yours! The Presbyterians, in + their despair, were still for believing Charles, though found false, + unbelievable again and again. Not so Cromwell: "For all our fighting," + says he, "we are to have a little bit of paper?" No—! + </p> + <p> + In fact, everywhere we have to note the decisive practical <i>eye</i> of + this man; how he drives towards the practical and practicable; has a + genuine insight into what <i>is</i> fact. Such an intellect, I maintain, + does not belong to a false man: the false man sees false shows, + plausibilities, expediences: the true man is needed to discern even + practical truth. Cromwell's advice about the Parliament's Army, early in + the contest, How they were to dismiss their city-tapsters, flimsy riotous + persons, and choose substantial yeomen, whose heart was in the work, to be + soldiers for them: this is advice by a man who <i>saw</i>. Fact answers, + if you see into Fact! Cromwell's <i>Ironsides</i> were the embodiment of + this insight of his; men fearing God; and without any other fear. No more + conclusively genuine set of fighters ever trod the soil of England, or of + any other land. + </p> + <p> + Neither will we blame greatly that word of Cromwell's to them; which was + so blamed: "If the King should meet me in battle, I would kill the King." + Why not? These words were spoken to men who stood as before a Higher than + Kings. They had set more than their own lives on the cast. The Parliament + may call it, in official language, a fighting "<i>for</i> the King;" but + we, for our share, cannot understand that. To us it is no dilettante work, + no sleek officiality; it is sheer rough death and earnest. They have + brought it to the calling-forth of War; horrid internecine fight, man + grappling with man in fire-eyed rage,—the <i>infernal</i> element in + man called forth, to try it by that! <i>Do</i> that therefore; since that + is the thing to be done.—The successes of Cromwell seem to me a very + natural thing! Since he was not shot in battle, they were an inevitable + thing. That such a man, with the eye to see, with the heart to dare, + should advance, from post to post, from victory to victory, till the + Huntingdon Farmer became, by whatever name you might call him, the + acknowledged Strongest Man in England, virtually the King of England, + requires no magic to explain it—! + </p> + <p> + Truly it is a sad thing for a people, as for a man, to fall into + Scepticism, into dilettantism, insincerity; not to know Sincerity when + they see it. For this world, and for all worlds, what curse is so fatal? + The heart lying dead, the eye cannot see. What intellect remains is merely + the <i>vulpine</i> intellect. That a true <i>King</i> be sent them is of + small use; they do not know him when sent. They say scornfully, Is this + your King? The Hero wastes his heroic faculty in bootless contradiction + from the unworthy; and can accomplish little. For himself he does + accomplish a heroic life, which is much, which is all; but for the world + he accomplishes comparatively nothing. The wild rude Sincerity, direct + from Nature, is not glib in answering from the witness-box: in your + small-debt <i>pie-powder</i> court, he is scouted as a counterfeit. The + vulpine intellect "detects" him. For being a man worth any thousand men, + the response your Knox, your Cromwell gets, is an argument for two + centuries whether he was a man at all. God's greatest gift to this Earth + is sneeringly flung away. The miraculous talisman is a paltry plated coin, + not fit to pass in the shops as a common guinea. + </p> + <p> + Lamentable this! I say, this must be remedied. Till this be remedied in + some measure, there is nothing remedied. "Detect quacks"? Yes do, for + Heaven's sake; but know withal the men that are to be trusted! Till we + know that, what is all our knowledge; how shall we even so much as + "detect"? For the vulpine sharpness, which considers itself to be + knowledge, and "detects" in that fashion, is far mistaken. Dupes indeed + are many: but, of all <i>dupes</i>, there is none so fatally situated as + he who lives in undue terror of being duped. The world does exist; the + world has truth in it, or it would not exist! First recognize what is + true, we shall <i>then</i> discern what is false; and properly never till + then. + </p> + <p> + "Know the men that are to be trusted:" alas, this is yet, in these days, + very far from us. The sincere alone can recognize sincerity. Not a Hero + only is needed, but a world fit for him; a world not of <i>Valets</i>;—the + Hero comes almost in vain to it otherwise! Yes, it is far from us: but it + must come; thank God, it is visibly coming. Till it do come, what have we? + Ballot-boxes, suffrages, French Revolutions:—if we are as Valets, + and do not know the Hero when we see him, what good are all these? A + heroic Cromwell comes; and for a hundred and fifty years he cannot have a + vote from us. Why, the insincere, unbelieving world is the <i>natural + property</i> of the Quack, and of the Father of quacks and quackeries! + Misery, confusion, unveracity are alone possible there. By ballot-boxes we + alter the <i>figure</i> of our Quack; but the substance of him continues. + The Valet-World <i>has</i> to be governed by the Sham-Hero, by the King + merely <i>dressed</i> in King-gear. It is his; he is its! In brief, one of + two things: We shall either learn to know a Hero, a true Governor and + Captain, somewhat better, when we see him; or else go on to be forever + governed by the Unheroic;—had we ballot-boxes clattering at every + street-corner, there were no remedy in these. + </p> + <p> + Poor Cromwell,—great Cromwell! The inarticulate Prophet; Prophet who + could not <i>speak</i>. Rude, confused, struggling to utter himself, with + his savage depth, with his wild sincerity; and he looked so strange, among + the elegant Euphemisms, dainty little Falklands, didactic Chillingworths, + diplomatic Clarendons! Consider him. An outer hull of chaotic confusion, + visions of the Devil, nervous dreams, almost semi-madness; and yet such a + clear determinate man's-energy working in the heart of that. A kind of + chaotic man. The ray as of pure starlight and fire, working in such an + element of boundless hypochondria, unformed black of darkness! And yet + withal this hypochondria, what was it but the very greatness of the man? + The depth and tenderness of his wild affections: the quantity of <i>sympathy</i> + he had with things,—the quantity of insight he would yet get into + the heart of things, the mastery he would yet get over things: this was + his hypochondria. The man's misery, as man's misery always does, came of + his greatness. Samuel Johnson too is that kind of man. Sorrow-stricken, + half-distracted; the wide element of mournful <i>black</i> enveloping him,—wide + as the world. It is the character of a prophetic man; a man with his whole + soul <i>seeing</i>, and struggling to see. + </p> + <p> + On this ground, too, I explain to myself Cromwell's reputed confusion of + speech. To himself the internal meaning was sun-clear; but the material + with which he was to clothe it in utterance was not there. He had <i>lived</i> + silent; a great unnamed sea of Thought round him all his days; and in his + way of life little call to attempt <i>naming</i> or uttering that. With + his sharp power of vision, resolute power of action, I doubt not he could + have learned to write Books withal, and speak fluently enough;—he + did harder things than writing of Books. This kind of man is precisely he + who is fit for doing manfully all things you will set him on doing. + Intellect is not speaking and logicizing; it is seeing and ascertaining. + Virtue, Virtues, manhood, <i>hero</i>hood, is not fair-spoken immaculate + regularity; it is first of all, what the Germans well name it, <i>Tugend</i> + (<i>Taugend</i>, <i>dow</i>-ing or <i>Dough</i>-tiness), Courage and the + Faculty to <i>do</i>. This basis of the matter Cromwell had in him. + </p> + <p> + One understands moreover how, though he could not speak in Parliament, he + might <i>preach</i>, rhapsodic preaching; above all, how he might be great + in extempore prayer. These are the free outpouring utterances of what is + in the heart: method is not required in them; warmth, depth, sincerity are + all that is required. Cromwell's habit of prayer is a notable feature of + him. All his great enterprises were commenced with prayer. In dark + inextricable-looking difficulties, his Officers and he used to assemble, + and pray alternately, for hours, for days, till some definite resolution + rose among them, some "door of hope," as they would name it, disclosed + itself. Consider that. In tears, in fervent prayers, and cries to the + great God, to have pity on them, to make His light shine before them. + They, armed Soldiers of Christ, as they felt themselves to be; a little + band of Christian Brothers, who had drawn the sword against a great black + devouring world not Christian, but Mammonish, Devilish,—they cried + to God in their straits, in their extreme need, not to forsake the Cause + that was His. The light which now rose upon them,—how could a human + soul, by any means at all, get better light? Was not the purpose so formed + like to be precisely the best, wisest, the one to be followed without + hesitation any more? To them it was as the shining of Heaven's own + Splendor in the waste-howling darkness; the Pillar of Fire by night, that + was to guide them on their desolate perilous way. <i>Was</i> it not such? + Can a man's soul, to this hour, get guidance by any other method than + intrinsically by that same,—devout prostration of the earnest + struggling soul before the Highest, the Giver of all Light; be such <i>prayer</i> + a spoken, articulate, or be it a voiceless, inarticulate one? There is no + other method. "Hypocrisy"? One begins to be weary of all that. They who + call it so, have no right to speak on such matters. They never formed a + purpose, what one can call a purpose. They went about balancing + expediencies, plausibilities; gathering votes, advices; they never were + alone with the <i>truth</i> of a thing at all.—Cromwell's prayers + were likely to be "eloquent," and much more than that. His was the heart + of a man who <i>could</i> pray. + </p> + <p> + But indeed his actual Speeches, I apprehend, were not nearly so + ineloquent, incondite, as they look. We find he was, what all speakers aim + to be, an impressive speaker, even in Parliament; one who, from the first, + had weight. With that rude passionate voice of his, he was always + understood to <i>mean</i> something, and men wished to know what. He + disregarded eloquence, nay despised and disliked it; spoke always without + premeditation of the words he was to use. The Reporters, too, in those + days seem to have been singularly candid; and to have given the Printer + precisely what they found on their own note-paper. And withal, what a + strange proof is it of Cromwell's being the premeditative ever-calculating + hypocrite, acting a play before the world, That to the last he took no + more charge of his Speeches! How came he not to study his words a little, + before flinging them out to the public? If the words were true words, they + could be left to shift for themselves. + </p> + <p> + But with regard to Cromwell's "lying," we will make one remark. This, I + suppose, or something like this, to have been the nature of it. All + parties found themselves deceived in him; each party understood him to be + meaning <i>this</i>, heard him even say so, and behold he turns out to + have been meaning <i>that</i>! He was, cry they, the chief of liars. But + now, intrinsically, is not all this the inevitable fortune, not of a false + man in such times, but simply of a superior man? Such a man must have <i>reticences</i> + in him. If he walk wearing his heart upon his sleeve for daws to peck at, + his journey will not extend far! There is no use for any man's taking up + his abode in a house built of glass. A man always is to be himself the + judge how much of his mind he will show to other men; even to those he + would have work along with him. There are impertinent inquiries made: your + rule is, to leave the inquirer uninformed on that matter; not, if you can + help it, misinformed, but precisely as dark as he was! This, could one hit + the right phrase of response, is what the wise and faithful man would aim + to answer in such a case. + </p> + <p> + Cromwell, no doubt of it, spoke often in the dialect of small subaltern + parties; uttered to them a <i>part</i> of his mind. Each little party + thought him all its own. Hence their rage, one and all, to find him not of + their party, but of his own party. Was it his blame? At all seasons of his + history he must have felt, among such people, how, if he explained to them + the deeper insight he had, they must either have shuddered aghast at it, + or believing it, their own little compact hypothesis must have gone wholly + to wreck. They could not have worked in his province any more; nay perhaps + they could not now have worked in their own province. It is the inevitable + position of a great man among small men. Small men, most active, useful, + are to be seen everywhere, whose whole activity depends on some conviction + which to you is palpably a limited one; imperfect, what we call an <i>error</i>. + But would it be a kindness always, is it a duty always or often, to + disturb them in that? Many a man, doing loud work in the world, stands + only on some thin traditionality, conventionality; to him indubitable, to + you incredible: break that beneath him, he sinks to endless depths! "I + might have my hand full of truth," said Fontenelle, "and open only my + little finger." + </p> + <p> + And if this be the fact even in matters of doctrine, how much more in all + departments of practice! He that cannot withal <i>keep his mind to himself</i> + cannot practice any considerable thing whatever. And we call it + "dissimulation," all this? What would you think of calling the general of + an army a dissembler because he did not tell every corporal and private + soldier, who pleased to put the question, what his thoughts were about + everything?—Cromwell, I should rather say, managed all this in a + manner we must admire for its perfection. An endless vortex of such + questioning "corporals" rolled confusedly round him through his whole + course; whom he did answer. It must have been as a great true-seeing man + that he managed this too. Not one proved falsehood, as I said; not one! Of + what man that ever wound himself through such a coil of things will you + say so much?— + </p> + <p> + But in fact there are two errors, widely prevalent, which pervert to the + very basis our judgments formed about such men as Cromwell; about their + "ambition," "falsity," and such like. The first is what I might call + substituting the <i>goal</i> of their career for the course and + starting-point of it. The vulgar Historian of a Cromwell fancies that he + had determined on being Protector of England, at the time when he was + ploughing the marsh lands of Cambridgeshire. His career lay all mapped + out: a program of the whole drama; which he then step by step dramatically + unfolded, with all manner of cunning, deceptive dramaturgy, as he went on,—the + hollow, scheming [Gr.] <i>Upokrites</i>, or Play-actor, that he was! This + is a radical perversion; all but universal in such cases. And think for an + instant how different the fact is! How much does one of us foresee of his + own life? Short way ahead of us it is all dim; an unwound skein of + possibilities, of apprehensions, attemptabilities, vague-looming hopes. + This Cromwell had <i>not</i> his life lying all in that fashion of + Program, which he needed then, with that unfathomable cunning of his, only + to enact dramatically, scene after scene! Not so. We see it so; but to him + it was in no measure so. What absurdities would fall away of themselves, + were this one undeniable fact kept honestly in view by History! Historians + indeed will tell you that they do keep it in view;—but look whether + such is practically the fact! Vulgar History, as in this Cromwell's case, + omits it altogether; even the best kinds of History only remember it now + and then. To remember it duly with rigorous perfection, as in the fact it + <i>stood</i>, requires indeed a rare faculty; rare, nay impossible. A very + Shakspeare for faculty; or more than Shakspeare; who could <i>enact</i> a + brother man's biography, see with the brother man's eyes at all points of + his course what things <i>he</i> saw; in short, <i>know</i> his course and + him, as few "Historians" are like to do. Half or more of all the + thick-plied perversions which distort our image of Cromwell, will + disappear, if we honestly so much as try to represent them so; in + sequence, as they <i>were</i>; not in the lump, as they are thrown down + before us. + </p> + <p> + But a second error, which I think the generality commit, refers to this + same "ambition" itself. We exaggerate the ambition of Great Men; we + mistake what the nature of it is. Great Men are not ambitious in that + sense; he is a small poor man that is ambitious so. Examine the man who + lives in misery because he does not shine above other men; who goes about + producing himself, pruriently anxious about his gifts and claims; + struggling to force everybody, as it were begging everybody for God's + sake, to acknowledge him a great man, and set him over the heads of men! + Such a creature is among the wretchedest sights seen under this sun. A <i>great</i> + man? A poor morbid prurient empty man; fitter for the ward of a hospital, + than for a throne among men. I advise you to keep out of his way. He + cannot walk on quiet paths; unless you will look at him, wonder at him, + write paragraphs about him, he cannot live. It is the <i>emptiness</i> of + the man, not his greatness. Because there is nothing in himself, he + hungers and thirsts that you would find something in him. In good truth, I + believe no great man, not so much as a genuine man who had health and real + substance in him of whatever magnitude, was ever much tormented in this + way. + </p> + <p> + Your Cromwell, what good could it do him to be "noticed" by noisy crowds + of people? God his Maker already noticed him. He, Cromwell, was already + there; no notice would make <i>him</i> other than he already was. Till his + hair was grown gray; and Life from the down-hill slope was all seen to be + limited, not infinite but finite, and all a measurable matter <i>how</i> + it went,—he had been content to plough the ground, and read his + Bible. He in his old days could not support it any longer, without selling + himself to Falsehood, that he might ride in gilt carriages to Whitehall, + and have clerks with bundles of papers haunting him, "Decide this, decide + that," which in utmost sorrow of heart no man can perfectly decide! What + could gilt carriages do for this man? From of old, was there not in his + life a weight of meaning, a terror and a splendor as of Heaven itself? His + existence there as man set him beyond the need of gilding. Death, Judgment + and Eternity: these already lay as the background of whatsoever he thought + or did. All his life lay begirt as in a sea of nameless Thoughts, which no + speech of a mortal could name. God's Word, as the Puritan prophets of that + time had read it: this was great, and all else was little to him. To call + such a man "ambitious," to figure him as the prurient wind-bag described + above, seems to me the poorest solecism. Such a man will say: "Keep your + gilt carriages and huzzaing mobs, keep your red-tape clerks, your + influentialities, your important businesses. Leave me alone, leave me + alone; there is <i>too much of life</i> in me already!" Old Samuel + Johnson, the greatest soul in England in his day, was not ambitious. + "Corsica Boswell" flaunted at public shows with printed ribbons round his + hat; but the great old Samuel stayed at home. The world-wide soul wrapt up + in its thoughts, in its sorrows;—what could paradings, and ribbons + in the hat, do for it? + </p> + <p> + Ah yes, I will say again: The great <i>silent</i> men! Looking round on + the noisy inanity of the world, words with little meaning, actions with + little worth, one loves to reflect on the great Empire of <i>Silence</i>. + The noble silent men, scattered here and there, each in his department; + silently thinking, silently working; whom no Morning Newspaper makes + mention of! They are the salt of the Earth. A country that has none or few + of these is in a bad way. Like a forest which had no <i>roots</i>; which + had all turned into leaves and boughs;—which must soon wither and be + no forest. Woe for us if we had nothing but what we can <i>show</i>, or + speak. Silence, the great Empire of Silence: higher than the stars; deeper + than the Kingdoms of Death! It alone is great; all else is small.—I + hope we English will long maintain our <i>grand talent pour le silence</i>. + Let others that cannot do without standing on barrel-heads, to spout, and + be seen of all the market-place, cultivate speech exclusively,—become + a most green forest without roots! Solomon says, There is a time to speak; + but also a time to keep silence. Of some great silent Samuel, not urged to + writing, as old Samuel Johnson says he was, by <i>want of money</i>, and + nothing other, one might ask, "Why do not you too get up and speak; + promulgate your system, found your sect?" "Truly," he will answer, "I am + <i>continent</i> of my thought hitherto; happily I have yet had the + ability to keep it in me, no compulsion strong enough to speak it. My + 'system' is not for promulgation first of all; it is for serving myself to + live by. That is the great purpose of it to me. And then the 'honor'? + Alas, yes;—but as Cato said of the statue: So many statues in that + Forum of yours, may it not be better if they ask, Where is Cato's statue?"— + </p> + <p> + But now, by way of counterpoise to this of Silence, let me say that there + are two kinds of ambition; one wholly blamable, the other laudable and + inevitable. Nature has provided that the great silent Samuel shall not be + silent too long. The selfish wish to shine over others, let it be + accounted altogether poor and miserable. "Seekest thou great things, seek + them not:" this is most true. And yet, I say, there is an irrepressible + tendency in every man to develop himself according to the magnitude which + Nature has made him of; to speak out, to act out, what nature has laid in + him. This is proper, fit, inevitable; nay it is a duty, and even the + summary of duties for a man. The meaning of life here on earth might be + defined as consisting in this: To unfold your <i>self</i>, to work what + thing you have the faculty for. It is a necessity for the human being, the + first law of our existence. Coleridge beautifully remarks that the infant + learns to <i>speak</i> by this necessity it feels.—We will say + therefore: To decide about ambition, whether it is bad or not, you have + two things to take into view. Not the coveting of the place alone, but the + fitness of the man for the place withal: that is the question. Perhaps the + place was <i>his</i>; perhaps he had a natural right, and even obligation, + to seek the place! Mirabeau's ambition to be Prime Minister, how shall we + blame it, if he were "the only man in France that could have done any good + there"? Hopefuler perhaps had he not so clearly <i>felt</i> how much good + he could do! But a poor Necker, who could do no good, and had even felt + that he could do none, yet sitting broken-hearted because they had flung + him out, and he was now quit of it, well might Gibbon mourn over him.—Nature, + I say, has provided amply that the silent great man shall strive to speak + withal; <i>too</i> amply, rather! + </p> + <p> + Fancy, for example, you had revealed to the brave old Samuel Johnson, in + his shrouded-up existence, that it was possible for him to do priceless + divine work for his country and the whole world. That the perfect Heavenly + Law might be made Law on this Earth; that the prayer he prayed daily, "Thy + kingdom come," was at length to be fulfilled! If you had convinced his + judgment of this; that it was possible, practicable; that he the mournful + silent Samuel was called to take a part in it! Would not the whole soul of + the man have flamed up into a divine clearness, into noble utterance and + determination to act; casting all sorrows and misgivings under his feet, + counting all affliction and contradiction small,—the whole dark + element of his existence blazing into articulate radiance of light and + lightning? It were a true ambition this! And think now how it actually was + with Cromwell. From of old, the sufferings of God's Church, true zealous + Preachers of the truth flung into dungeons, whips, set on pillories, their + ears crops off, God's Gospel-cause trodden under foot of the unworthy: all + this had lain heavy on his soul. Long years he had looked upon it, in + silence, in prayer; seeing no remedy on Earth; trusting well that a remedy + in Heaven's goodness would come,—that such a course was false, + unjust, and could not last forever. And now behold the dawn of it; after + twelve years silent waiting, all England stirs itself; there is to be once + more a Parliament, the Right will get a voice for itself: inexpressible + well-grounded hope has come again into the Earth. Was not such a + Parliament worth being a member of? Cromwell threw down his ploughs, and + hastened thither. + </p> + <p> + He spoke there,—rugged bursts of earnestness, of a self-seen truth, + where we get a glimpse of them. He worked there; he fought and strove, + like a strong true giant of a man, through cannon-tumult and all else,—on + and on, till the Cause <i>triumphed</i>, its once so formidable enemies + all swept from before it, and the dawn of hope had become clear light of + victory and certainty. That <i>he</i> stood there as the strongest soul of + England, the undisputed Hero of all England,—what of this? It was + possible that the Law of Christ's Gospel could now establish itself in the + world! The Theocracy which John Knox in his pulpit might dream of as a + "devout imagination," this practical man, experienced in the whole chaos + of most rough practice, dared to consider as capable of being <i>realized</i>. + Those that were highest in Christ's Church, the devoutest wisest men, were + to rule the land: in some considerable degree, it might be so and should + be so. Was it not <i>true</i>, God's truth? And if <i>true</i>, was it not + then the very thing to do? The strongest practical intellect in England + dared to answer, Yes! This I call a noble true purpose; is it not, in its + own dialect, the noblest that could enter into the heart of Statesman or + man? For a Knox to take it up was something; but for a Cromwell, with his + great sound sense and experience of what our world <i>was</i>,—History, + I think, shows it only this once in such a degree. I account it the + culminating point of Protestantism; the most heroic phasis that "Faith in + the Bible" was appointed to exhibit here below. Fancy it: that it were + made manifest to one of us, how we could make the Right supremely + victorious over Wrong, and all that we had longed and prayed for, as the + highest good to England and all lands, an attainable fact! + </p> + <p> + Well, I must say, the <i>vulpine</i> intellect, with its knowingness, its + alertness and expertness in "detecting hypocrites," seems to me a rather + sorry business. We have had but one such Statesman in England; one man, + that I can get sight of, who ever had in the heart of him any such purpose + at all. One man, in the course of fifteen hundred years; and this was his + welcome. He had adherents by the hundred or the ten; opponents by the + million. Had England rallied all round him,—why, then, England might + have been a <i>Christian</i> land! As it is, vulpine knowingness sits yet + at its hopeless problem, "Given a world of Knaves, to educe an Honesty + from their united action;"—how cumbrous a problem, you may see in + Chancery Law-Courts, and some other places! Till at length, by Heaven's + just anger, but also by Heaven's great grace, the matter begins to + stagnate; and this problem is becoming to all men a <i>palpably</i> + hopeless one.— + </p> + <p> + But with regard to Cromwell and his purposes: Hume, and a multitude + following him, come upon me here with an admission that Cromwell <i>was</i> + sincere at first; a sincere "Fanatic" at first, but gradually became a + "Hypocrite" as things opened round him. This of the Fanatic-Hypocrite is + Hume's theory of it; extensively applied since,—to Mahomet and many + others. Think of it seriously, you will find something in it; not much, + not all, very far from all. Sincere hero hearts do not sink in this + miserable manner. The Sun flings forth impurities, gets balefully + incrusted with spots; but it does not quench itself, and become no Sun at + all, but a mass of Darkness! I will venture to say that such never befell + a great deep Cromwell; I think, never. Nature's own lionhearted Son; + Antaeus-like, his strength is got by <i>touching the Earth</i>, his + Mother; lift him up from the Earth, lift him up into Hypocrisy, Inanity, + his strength is gone. We will not assert that Cromwell was an immaculate + man; that he fell into no faults, no insincerities among the rest. He was + no dilettante professor of "perfections," "immaculate conducts." He was a + rugged Orson, rending his rough way through actual true <i>work</i>,—<i>doubtless</i> + with many a <i>fall</i> therein. Insincerities, faults, very many faults + daily and hourly: it was too well known to him; known to God and him! The + Sun was dimmed many a time; but the Sun had not himself grown a Dimness. + Cromwell's last words, as he lay waiting for death, are those of a + Christian heroic man. Broken prayers to God, that He would judge him and + this Cause, He since man could not, in justice yet in pity. They are most + touching words. He breathed out his wild great soul, its toils and sins + all ended now, into the presence of his Maker, in this manner. + </p> + <p> + I, for one, will not call the man a Hypocrite! Hypocrite, mummer, the life + of him a mere theatricality; empty barren quack, hungry for the shouts of + mobs? The man had made obscurity do very well for him till his head was + gray; and now he <i>was</i>, there as he stood recognized unblamed, the + virtual King of England. Cannot a man do without King's Coaches and + Cloaks? Is it such a blessedness to have clerks forever pestering you with + bundles of papers in red tape? A simple Diocletian prefers planting of + cabbages; a George Washington, no very immeasurable man, does the like. + One would say, it is what any genuine man could do; and would do. The + instant his real work were out in the matter of Kingship,—away with + it! + </p> + <p> + Let us remark, meanwhile, how indispensable everywhere a <i>King</i> is, + in all movements of men. It is strikingly shown, in this very War, what + becomes of men when they cannot find a Chief Man, and their enemies can. + The Scotch Nation was all but unanimous in Puritanism; zealous and of one + mind about it, as in this English end of the Island was always far from + being the case. But there was no great Cromwell among them; poor + tremulous, hesitating, diplomatic Argyles and such like: none of them had + a heart true enough for the truth, or durst commit himself to the truth. + They had no leader; and the scattered Cavalier party in that country had + one: Montrose, the noblest of all the Cavaliers; an accomplished, + gallant-hearted, splendid man; what one may call the Hero-Cavalier. Well, + look at it; on the one hand subjects without a King; on the other a King + without subjects! The subjects without King can do nothing; the + subjectless King can do something. This Montrose, with a handful of Irish + or Highland savages, few of them so much as guns in their hands, dashes at + the drilled Puritan armies like a wild whirlwind; sweeps them, time after + time, some five times over, from the field before him. He was at one + period, for a short while, master of all Scotland. One man; but he was a + man; a million zealous men, but without the one; they against him were + powerless! Perhaps of all the persons in that Puritan struggle, from first + to last, the single indispensable one was verily Cromwell. To see and + dare, and decide; to be a fixed pillar in the welter of uncertainty;—a + King among them, whether they called him so or not. + </p> + <p> + Precisely here, however, lies the rub for Cromwell. His other proceedings + have all found advocates, and stand generally justified; but this + dismissal of the Rump Parliament and assumption of the Protectorship, is + what no one can pardon him. He had fairly grown to be King in England; + Chief Man of the victorious party in England: but it seems he could not do + without the King's Cloak, and sold himself to perdition in order to get + it. Let us see a little how this was. + </p> + <p> + England, Scotland, Ireland, all lying now subdued at the feet of the + Puritan Parliament, the practical question arose, What was to be done with + it? How will you govern these Nations, which Providence in a wondrous way + has given up to your disposal? Clearly those hundred surviving members of + the Long Parliament, who sit there as supreme authority, cannot continue + forever to sit. What <i>is</i> to be done?—It was a question which + theoretical constitution-builders may find easy to answer; but to + Cromwell, looking there into the real practical facts of it, there could + be none more complicated. He asked of the Parliament, What it was they + would decide upon? It was for the Parliament to say. Yet the Soldiers too, + however contrary to Formula, they who had purchased this victory with + their blood, it seemed to them that they also should have something to say + in it! We will not "for all our fighting have nothing but a little piece + of paper." We understand that the Law of God's Gospel, to which He through + us has given the victory, shall establish itself, or try to establish + itself, in this land! + </p> + <p> + For three years, Cromwell says, this question had been sounded in the ears + of the Parliament. They could make no answer; nothing but talk, talk. + Perhaps it lies in the nature of parliamentary bodies; perhaps no + Parliament could in such case make any answer but even that of talk, talk! + Nevertheless the question must and shall be answered. You sixty men there, + becoming fast odious, even despicable, to the whole nation, whom the + nation already calls Rump Parliament, you cannot continue to sit there: + who or what then is to follow? "Free Parliament," right of Election, + Constitutional Formulas of one sort or the other,—the thing is a + hungry Fact coming on us, which we must answer or be devoured by it! And + who are you that prate of Constitutional Formulas, rights of Parliament? + You have had to kill your King, to make Pride's Purges, to expel and + banish by the law of the stronger whosoever would not let your Cause + prosper: there are but fifty or threescore of you left there, debating in + these days. Tell us what we shall do; not in the way of Formula, but of + practicable Fact! + </p> + <p> + How they did finally answer, remains obscure to this day. The diligent + Godwin himself admits that he cannot make it out. The likeliest is, that + this poor Parliament still would not, and indeed could not dissolve and + disperse; that when it came to the point of actually dispersing, they + again, for the tenth or twentieth time, adjourned it,—and Cromwell's + patience failed him. But we will take the favorablest hypothesis ever + started for the Parliament; the favorablest, though I believe it is not + the true one, but too favorable. + </p> + <p> + According to this version: At the uttermost crisis, when Cromwell and his + Officers were met on the one hand, and the fifty or sixty Rump Members on + the other, it was suddenly told Cromwell that the Rump in its despair <i>was</i> + answering in a very singular way; that in their splenetic envious despair, + to keep out the Army at least, these men were hurrying through the House a + kind of Reform Bill,—Parliament to be chosen by the whole of + England; equable electoral division into districts; free suffrage, and the + rest of it! A very questionable, or indeed for <i>them</i> an + unquestionable thing. Reform Bill, free suffrage of Englishmen? Why, the + Royalists themselves, silenced indeed but not exterminated, perhaps <i>outnumber</i> + us; the great numerical majority of England was always indifferent to our + Cause, merely looked at it and submitted to it. It is in weight and force, + not by counting of heads, that we are the majority! And now with your + Formulas and Reform Bills, the whole matter, sorely won by our swords, + shall again launch itself to sea; become a mere hope, and likelihood, <i>small</i> + even as a likelihood? And it is not a likelihood; it is a certainty, which + we have won, by God's strength and our own right hands, and do now hold <i>here</i>. + Cromwell walked down to these refractory Members; interrupted them in that + rapid speed of their Reform Bill;—ordered them to begone, and talk + there no more.—Can we not forgive him? Can we not understand him? + John Milton, who looked on it all near at hand, could applaud him. The + Reality had swept the Formulas away before it. I fancy, most men who were + realities in England might see into the necessity of that. + </p> + <p> + The strong daring man, therefore, has set all manner of Formulas and + logical superficialities against him; has dared appeal to the genuine Fact + of this England, Whether it will support him or not? It is curious to see + how he struggles to govern in some constitutional way; find some + Parliament to support him; but cannot. His first Parliament, the one they + call Barebones's Parliament, is, so to speak, a <i>Convocation of the + Notables</i>. From all quarters of England the leading Ministers and chief + Puritan Officials nominate the men most distinguished by religious + reputation, influence and attachment to the true Cause: these are + assembled to shape out a plan. They sanctioned what was past; shaped as + they could what was to come. They were scornfully called <i>Barebones's + Parliament</i>: the man's name, it seems, was not <i>Barebones</i>, but + Barbone,—a good enough man. Nor was it a jest, their work; it was a + most serious reality,—a trial on the part of these Puritan Notables + how far the Law of Christ could become the Law of this England. There were + men of sense among them, men of some quality; men of deep piety I suppose + the most of them were. They failed, it seems, and broke down, endeavoring + to reform the Court of Chancery! They dissolved themselves, as + incompetent; delivered up their power again into the hands of the Lord + General Cromwell, to do with it what he liked and could. + </p> + <p> + What <i>will</i> he do with it? The Lord General Cromwell, + "Commander-in-chief of all the Forces raised and to be raised;" he hereby + sees himself, at this unexampled juncture, as it were the one available + Authority left in England, nothing between England and utter Anarchy but + him alone. Such is the undeniable Fact of his position and England's, + there and then. What will he do with it? After deliberation, he decides + that he will <i>accept</i> it; will formally, with public solemnity, say + and vow before God and men, "Yes, the Fact is so, and I will do the best I + can with it!" Protectorship, Instrument of Government,—these are the + external forms of the thing; worked out and sanctioned as they could in + the circumstances be, by the Judges, by the leading Official people, + "Council of Officers and Persons of interest in the Nation:" and as for + the thing itself, undeniably enough, at the pass matters had now come to, + there <i>was</i> no alternative but Anarchy or that. Puritan England might + accept it or not; but Puritan England was, in real truth, saved from + suicide thereby!—I believe the Puritan People did, in an + inarticulate, grumbling, yet on the whole grateful and real way, accept + this anomalous act of Oliver's; at least, he and they together made it + good, and always better to the last. But in their Parliamentary <i>articulate</i> + way, they had their difficulties, and never knew fully what to say to it—! + </p> + <p> + Oliver's second Parliament, properly his <i>first</i> regular Parliament, + chosen by the rule laid down in the Instrument of Government, did + assemble, and worked;—but got, before long, into bottomless + questions as to the Protector's <i>right</i>, as to "usurpation," and so + forth; and had at the earliest legal day to be dismissed. Cromwell's + concluding Speech to these men is a remarkable one. So likewise to his + third Parliament, in similar rebuke for their pedantries and obstinacies. + Most rude, chaotic, all these Speeches are; but most earnest-looking. You + would say, it was a sincere helpless man; not used to <i>speak</i> the + great inorganic thought of him, but to act it rather! A helplessness of + utterance, in such bursting fulness of meaning. He talks much about + "births of Providence:" All these changes, so many victories and events, + were not forethoughts, and theatrical contrivances of men, of <i>me</i> or + of men; it is blind blasphemers that will persist in calling them so! He + insists with a heavy sulphurous wrathful emphasis on this. As he well + might. As if a Cromwell in that dark huge game he had been playing, the + world wholly thrown into chaos round him, had <i>foreseen</i> it all, and + played it all off like a precontrived puppet-show by wood and wire! These + things were foreseen by no man, he says; no man could tell what a day + would bring forth: they were "births of Providence," God's finger guided + us on, and we came at last to clear height of victory, God's Cause + triumphant in these Nations; and you as a Parliament could assemble + together, and say in what manner all this could be <i>organized</i>, + reduced into rational feasibility among the affairs of men. You were to + help with your wise counsel in doing that. "You have had such an + opportunity as no Parliament in England ever had." Christ's Law, the Right + and True, was to be in some measure made the Law of this land. In place of + that, you have got into your idle pedantries, constitutionalities, + bottomless cavillings and questionings about written laws for my coming + here;—and would send the whole matter into Chaos again, because I + have no Notary's parchment, but only God's voice from the + battle-whirlwind, for being President among you! That opportunity is gone; + and we know not when it will return. You have had your constitutional + Logic; and Mammon's Law, not Christ's Law, rules yet in this land. "God be + judge between you and me!" These are his final words to them: Take you + your constitution-formulas in your hand; and I my informal struggles, + purposes, realities and acts; and "God be judge between you and me!"— + </p> + <p> + We said above what shapeless, involved chaotic things the printed Speeches + of Cromwell are. <i>Wilfully</i> ambiguous, unintelligible, say the most: + a hypocrite shrouding himself in confused Jesuitic jargon! To me they do + not seem so. I will say rather, they afforded the first glimpses I could + ever get into the reality of this Cromwell, nay into the possibility of + him. Try to believe that he means something, search lovingly what that may + be: you will find a real <i>speech</i> lying imprisoned in these broken + rude tortuous utterances; a meaning in the great heart of this + inarticulate man! You will, for thc first time, begin to see that he was a + man; not an enigmatic chimera, unintelligible to you, incredible to you. + The Histories and Biographies written of this Cromwell, written in shallow + sceptical generations that could not know or conceive of a deep believing + man, are far more <i>obscure</i> than Cromwell's Speeches. You look + through them only into the infinite vague of Black and the Inane. "Heats + and jealousies," says Lord Clarendon himself: "heats and jealousies," mere + crabbed whims, theories and crotchets; these induced slow sober quiet + Englishmen to lay down their ploughs and work; and fly into red fury of + confused war against the best-conditioned of Kings! <i>Try</i> if you can + find that true. Scepticism writing about Belief may have great gifts; but + it is really <i>ultra vires</i> there. It is Blindness laying down the + Laws of Optics.— + </p> + <p> + Cromwell's third Parliament split on the same rock as his second. Ever the + constitutional Formula: How came you there? Show us some Notary parchment! + Blind pedants:—"Why, surely the same power which makes you a + Parliament, that, and something more, made me a Protector!" If my + Protectorship is nothing, what in the name of wonder is your + Parliamenteership, a reflex and creation of that?— + </p> + <p> + Parliaments having failed, there remained nothing but the way of + Despotism. Military Dictators, each with his district, to <i>coerce</i> + the Royalist and other gainsayers, to govern them, if not by act of + Parliament, then by the sword. Formula shall <i>not</i> carry it, while + the Reality is here! I will go on, protecting oppressed Protestants + abroad, appointing just judges, wise managers, at home, cherishing true + Gospel ministers; doing the best I can to make England a Christian + England, greater than old Rome, the Queen of Protestant Christianity; I, + since you will not help me; I while God leaves me life!—Why did he + not give it up; retire into obscurity again, since the Law would not + acknowledge him? cry several. That is where they mistake. For him there + was no giving of it up! Prime ministers have governed countries, Pitt, + Pombal, Choiseul; and their word was a law while it held: but this Prime + Minister was one that <i>could not get resigned</i>. Let him once resign, + Charles Stuart and the Cavaliers waited to kill him; to kill the Cause <i>and</i> + him. Once embarked, there is no retreat, no return. This Prime Minister + could <i>retire</i> no-whither except into his tomb. + </p> + <p> + One is sorry for Cromwell in his old days. His complaint is incessant of + the heavy burden Providence has laid on him. Heavy; which he must bear + till death. Old Colonel Hutchinson, as his wife relates it, Hutchinson, + his old battle-mate, coming to see him on some indispensable business, + much against his will,—Cromwell "follows him to the door," in a most + fraternal, domestic, conciliatory style; begs that he would be reconciled + to him, his old brother in arms; says how much it grieves him to be + misunderstood, deserted by true fellow-soldiers, dear to him from of old: + the rigorous Hutchinson, cased in his Republican formula, sullenly goes + his way.—And the man's head now white; his strong arm growing weary + with its long work! I think always too of his poor Mother, now very old, + living in that Palace of his; a right brave woman; as indeed they lived + all an honest God-fearing Household there: if she heard a shot go off, she + thought it was her son killed. He had to come to her at least once a day, + that she might see with her own eyes that he was yet living. The poor old + Mother!—What had this man gained; what had he gained? He had a life + of sore strife and toil, to his last day. Fame, ambition, place in + History? His dead body was hung in chains, his "place in History,"—place + in History forsooth!—has been a place of ignominy, accusation, + blackness and disgrace; and here, this day, who knows if it is not rash in + me to be among the first that ever ventured to pronounce him not a knave + and liar, but a genuinely honest man! Peace to him. Did he not, in spite + of all, accomplish much for us? <i>We</i> walk smoothly over his great + rough heroic life; step over his body sunk in the ditch there. We need not + <i>spurn</i> it, as we step on it!—Let the Hero rest. It was not to + <i>men's</i> judgment that he appealed; nor have men judged him very well. + </p> + <p> + Precisely a century and a year after this of Puritanism had got itself + hushed up into decent composure, and its results made smooth, in 1688, + there broke out a far deeper explosion, much more difficult to hush up, + known to all mortals, and like to be long known, by the name of French + Revolution. It is properly the third and final act of Protestantism; the + explosive confused return of mankind to Reality and Fact, now that they + were perishing of Semblance and Sham. We call our English Puritanism the + second act: "Well then, the Bible is true; let us go by the Bible!" "In + Church," said Luther; "In Church and State," said Cromwell, "let us go by + what actually <i>is</i> God's Truth." Men have to return to reality; they + cannot live on semblance. The French Revolution, or third act, we may well + call the final one; for lower than that savage <i>Sansculottism</i> men + cannot go. They stand there on the nakedest haggard Fact, undeniable in + all seasons and circumstances; and may and must begin again confidently to + build up from that. The French explosion, like the English one, got its + King,—who had no Notary parchment to show for himself. We have still + to glance for a moment at Napoleon, our second modern King. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon does by no means seem to me so great a man as Cromwell. His + enormous victories which reached over all Europe, while Cromwell abode + mainly in our little England, are but as the high <i>stilts</i> on which + the man is seen standing; the stature of the man is not altered thereby. I + find in him no such <i>sincerity</i> as in Cromwell; only a far inferior + sort. No silent walking, through long years, with the Awful Unnamable of + this Universe; "walking with God," as he called it; and faith and strength + in that alone: <i>latent</i> thought and valor, content to lie latent, + then burst out as in blaze of Heaven's lightning! Napoleon lived in an age + when God was no longer believed; the meaning of all Silence, Latency, was + thought to be Nonentity: he had to begin not out of the Puritan Bible, but + out of poor Sceptical <i>Encyclopedies</i>. This was the length the man + carried it. Meritorious to get so far. His compact, prompt, every way + articulate character is in itself perhaps small, compared with our great + chaotic inarticulate Cromwell's. Instead of "dumb Prophet struggling to + speak," we have a portentous mixture of the Quack withal! Hume's notion of + the Fanatic-Hypocrite, with such truth as it has, will apply much better + to Napoleon than it did to Cromwell, to Mahomet or the like,—where + indeed taken strictly it has hardly any truth at all. An element of + blamable ambition shows itself, from the first, in this man; gets the + victory over him at last, and involves him and his work in ruin. + </p> + <p> + "False as a bulletin" became a proverb in Napoleon's time. He makes what + excuse he could for it: that it was necessary to mislead the enemy, to + keep up his own men's courage, and so forth. On the whole, there are no + excuses. A man in no case has liberty to tell lies. It had been, in the + long-run, <i>better</i> for Napoleon too if he had not told any. In fact, + if a man have any purpose reaching beyond the hour and day, meant to be + found extant <i>next</i> day, what good can it ever be to promulgate lies? + The lies are found out; ruinous penalty is exacted for them. No man will + believe the liar next time even when he speaks truth, when it is of the + last importance that he be believed. The old cry of wolf!—A Lie is + no-thing; you cannot of nothing make something; you make <i>nothing</i> at + last, and lose your labor into the bargain. + </p> + <p> + Yet Napoleon <i>had</i> a sincerity: we are to distinguish between what is + superficial and what is fundamental in insincerity. Across these outer + manoeuverings and quackeries of his, which were many and most blamable, + let us discern withal that the man had a certain instinctive ineradicable + feeling for reality; and did base himself upon fact, so long as he had any + basis. He has an instinct of Nature better than his culture was. His <i>savans</i>, + Bourrienne tells us, in that voyage to Egypt were one evening busily + occupied arguing that there could be no God. They had proved it, to their + satisfaction, by all manner of logic. Napoleon looking up into the stars, + answers, "Very ingenious, Messieurs: but <i>who made</i> all that?" The + Atheistic logic runs off from him like water; the great Fact stares him in + the face: "Who made all that?" So too in Practice: he, as every man that + can be great, or have victory in this world, sees, through all + entanglements, the practical heart of the matter; drives straight towards + that. When the steward of his Tuileries Palace was exhibiting the new + upholstery, with praises, and demonstration how glorious it was, and how + cheap withal, Napoleon, making little answer, asked for a pair of + scissors, clips one of the gold tassels from a window-curtain, put it in + his pocket, and walked on. Some days afterwards, he produced it at the + right moment, to the horror of his upholstery functionary; it was not gold + but tinsel! In St. Helena, it is notable how he still, to his last days, + insists on the practical, the real. "Why talk and complain; above all, why + quarrel with one another? There is no <i>result</i> in it; it comes to + nothing that one can <i>do</i>. Say nothing, if one can do nothing!" He + speaks often so, to his poor discontented followers; he is like a piece of + silent strength in the middle of their morbid querulousness there. + </p> + <p> + And accordingly was there not what we can call a <i>faith</i> in him, + genuine so far as it went? That this new enormous Democracy asserting + itself here in the French Revolution is an unsuppressible Fact, which the + whole world, with its old forces and institutions, cannot put down; this + was a true insight of his, and took his conscience and enthusiasm along + with it,—a <i>faith</i>. And did he not interpret the dim purport of + it well? "<i>La carriere ouverte aux talens</i>, The implements to him who + can handle them:" this actually is the truth, and even the whole truth; it + includes whatever the French Revolution or any Revolution, could mean. + Napoleon, in his first period, was a true Democrat. And yet by the nature + of him, fostered too by his military trade, he knew that Democracy, if it + were a true thing at all, could not be an anarchy: the man had a + heart-hatred for anarchy. On that Twentieth of June (1792), Bourrienne and + he sat in a coffee-house, as the mob rolled by: Napoleon expresses the + deepest contempt for persons in authority that they do not restrain this + rabble. On the Tenth of August he wonders why there is no man to command + these poor Swiss; they would conquer if there were. Such a faith in + Democracy, yet hatred of anarchy, it is that carries Napoleon through all + his great work. Through his brilliant Italian Campaigns, onwards to the + Peace of Leoben, one would say, his inspiration is: "Triumph to the French + Revolution; assertion of it against these Austrian Simulacra that pretend + to call it a Simulacrum!" Withal, however, he feels, and has a right to + feel, how necessary a strong Authority is; how the Revolution cannot + prosper or last without such. To bridle in that great devouring, + self-devouring French Revolution; to <i>tame</i> it, so that its intrinsic + purpose can be made good, that it may become <i>organic</i>, and be able + to live among other organisms and <i>formed</i> things, not as a wasting + destruction alone: is not this still what he partly aimed at, as the true + purport of his life; nay what he actually managed to do? Through Wagrams, + Austerlitzes; triumph after triumph,—he triumphed so far. There was + an eye to see in this man, a soul to dare and do. He rose naturally to be + the King. All men saw that he <i>was</i> such. The common soldiers used to + say on the march: "These babbling <i>Avocats</i>, up at Paris; all talk + and no work! What wonder it runs all wrong? We shall have to go and put + our <i>Petit Caporal</i> there!" They went, and put him there; they and + France at large. Chief-consulship, Emperorship, victory over Europe;—till + the poor Lieutenant of <i>La Fere</i>, not unnaturally, might seem to + himself the greatest of all men that had been in the world for some ages. + </p> + <p> + But at this point, I think, the fatal charlatan-element got the upper + hand. He apostatized from his old faith in Facts, took to believing in + Semblances; strove to connect himself with Austrian Dynasties, Popedoms, + with the old false Feudalities which he once saw clearly to be false;—considered + that <i>he</i> would found "his Dynasty" and so forth; that the enormous + French Revolution meant only that! The man was "given up to strong + delusion, that he should believe a lie;" a fearful but most sure thing. He + did not know true from false now when he looked at them,—the + fearfulest penalty a man pays for yielding to untruth of heart. <i>Self</i> + and false ambition had now become his god: self-deception once yielded to, + <i>all</i> other deceptions follow naturally more and more. What a paltry + patchwork of theatrical paper-mantles, tinsel and mummery, had this man + wrapt his own great reality in, thinking to make it more real thereby! His + hollow <i>Pope's-Concordat</i>, pretending to be a re-establishment of + Catholicism, felt by himself to be the method of extirpating it, "<i>la + vaccine de la religion</i>:" his ceremonial Coronations, consecrations by + the old Italian Chimera in Notre-Dame,—"wanting nothing to complete + the pomp of it," as Augereau said, "nothing but the half-million of men + who had died to put an end to all that"! Cromwell's Inauguration was by + the Sword and Bible; what we must call a genuinely <i>true</i> one. Sword + and Bible were borne before him, without any chimera: were not these the + <i>real</i> emblems of Puritanism; its true decoration and insignia? It + had used them both in a very real manner, and pretended to stand by them + now! But this poor Napoleon mistook: he believed too much in the <i>Dupability</i> + of men; saw no fact deeper in man than Hunger and this! He was mistaken. + Like a man that should build upon cloud; his house and he fall down in + confused wreck, and depart out of the world. + </p> + <p> + Alas, in all of us this charlatan-element exists; and <i>might</i> be + developed, were the temptation strong enough. "Lead us not into + temptation"! But it is fatal, I say, that it <i>be</i> developed. The + thing into which it enters as a cognizable ingredient is doomed to be + altogether transitory; and, however huge it may <i>look</i>, is in itself + small. Napoleon's working, accordingly, what was it with all the noise it + made? A flash as of gunpowder wide-spread; a blazing-up as of dry heath. + For an hour the whole Universe seems wrapt in smoke and flame; but only + for an hour. It goes out: the Universe with its old mountains and streams, + its stars above and kind soil beneath, is still there. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Weimar told his friends always, To be of courage; this + Napoleonism was <i>unjust</i>, a falsehood, and could not last. It is true + doctrine. The heavier this Napoleon trampled on the world, holding it + tyrannously down, the fiercer would the world's recoil against him be, one + day. Injustice pays itself with frightful compound-interest. I am not sure + but he had better have lost his best park of artillery, or had his best + regiment drowned in the sea, than shot that poor German Bookseller, Palm! + It was a palpable tyrannous murderous injustice, which no man, let him + paint an inch thick, could make out to be other. It burnt deep into the + hearts of men, it and the like of it; suppressed fire flashed in the eyes + of men, as they thought of it,—waiting their day! Which day <i>came</i>: + Germany rose round him.—What Napoleon <i>did</i> will in the + long-run amount to what he did justly; what Nature with her laws will + sanction. To what of reality was in him; to that and nothing more. The + rest was all smoke and waste. <i>La carriere ouverte aux talens</i>: that + great true Message, which has yet to articulate and fulfil itself + everywhere, he left in a most inarticulate state. He was a great <i>ebauche</i>, + a rude-draught never completed; as indeed what great man is other? Left in + <i>too</i> rude a state, alas! + </p> + <p> + His notions of the world, as he expresses them there at St. Helena, are + almost tragical to consider. He seems to feel the most unaffected surprise + that it has all gone so; that he is flung out on the rock here, and the + World is still moving on its axis. France is great, and all-great: and at + bottom, he is France. England itself, he says, is by Nature only an + appendage of France; "another Isle of Oleron to France." So it was by <i>Nature</i>, + by Napoleon-Nature; and yet look how in fact—HERE AM I! He cannot + understand it: inconceivable that the reality has not corresponded to his + program of it; that France was not all-great, that he was not France. + "Strong delusion," that he should believe the thing to be which <i>is</i> + not! The compact, clear-seeing, decisive Italian nature of him, strong, + genuine, which he once had, has enveloped itself, half-dissolved itself, + in a turbid atmosphere of French fanfaronade. The world was not disposed + to be trodden down underfoot; to be bound into masses, and built together, + as <i>he</i> liked, for a pedestal to France and him: the world had quite + other purposes in view! Napoleon's astonishment is extreme. But alas, what + help now? He had gone that way of his; and Nature also had gone her way. + Having once parted with Reality, he tumbles helpless in Vacuity; no rescue + for him. He had to sink there, mournfully as man seldom did; and break his + great heart, and die,—this poor Napoleon: a great implement too soon + wasted, till it was useless: our last Great Man! + </p> + <p> + Our last, in a double sense. For here finally these wide roamings of ours + through so many times and places, in search and study of Heroes, are to + terminate. I am sorry for it: there was pleasure for me in this business, + if also much pain. It is a great subject, and a most grave and wide one, + this which, not to be too grave about it, I have named <i>Hero-worship</i>. + It enters deeply, as I think, into the secret of Mankind's ways and + vitalest interests in this world, and is well worth explaining at present. + With six months, instead of six days, we might have done better. I + promised to break ground on it; I know not whether I have even managed to + do that. I have had to tear it up in the rudest manner in order to get + into it at all. Often enough, with these abrupt utterances thrown out + isolated, unexplained, has your tolerance been put to the trial. + Tolerance, patient candor, all-hoping favor and kindness, which I will not + speak of at present. The accomplished and distinguished, the beautiful, + the wise, something of what is best in England, have listened patiently to + my rude words. With many feelings, I heartily thank you all; and say, Good + be with you all! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1091 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |