English Literature
Carlyle's thought has entered into him, and he walks henceforth more
gently, more reverently through the world, as in the presence of the
Eternal.
GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS. Concerning Carlyle's style there are almost as
many opinions as there are readers. This is partly because he impresses
different people in widely different ways, and partly because his
expression varies greatly. At times he is calm, persuasive, grimly
humorous, as if conversing; at other times, wildly exclamatory, as if he
were shouting and waving his arms at the reader. We have spoken of
Macaulay's style as that of the finished orator, and we might reasonably
speak of Carlyle's as that of the exhorter, who cares little for methods so
long as he makes a strong impression on his hearers. "Every sentence is
alive to its finger tips," writes a modern critic; and though Carlyle often
violates the rules of grammar and rhetoric, we can well afford to let an
original genius express his own intense conviction in his own vivid and
picturesque way.
Carlyle's message may be summed up in two imperatives,--labor, and be
sincere. He lectured and wrote chiefly for the upper classes who had begun
to think, somewhat sentimentally, of the conditions of the laboring men of
the world; and he demanded for the latter, not charity or pity, but justice
and honor. All labor, whether of head or hand, is divine; and labor alone
justifies a man as a son of earth and heaven. To society, which Carlyle
thought to be occupied wholly with conventional affairs, he came with the
stamp of sincerity, calling upon men to lay aside hypocrisy and to think
and speak and live the truth. He had none of Addison's delicate satire and
humor, and in his fury at what he thought was false he was generally
unsympathetic and often harsh; but we must not forget that Thackeray--who
knew society much better than did Carlyle--gave a very unflattering picture
of it in _Vanity Fair_ and _The Book of Snobs_. Apparently the age needed
plain speaking, and Carlyle furnished it in scripture measure. Harriet
Martineau, who knew the world for which Carlyle wrote, summed up his
influence when she said that he had "infused into the mind of the English
nation ... sincerity, earnestness, healthfulness, and courage." If we add
to the above message Carlyle's conceptions of the world as governed by a
God of justice who never forgets, and of human history as "an inarticulate
Bible," slowly revealing the divine purpose, we shall understand better the
force of his ethical appeal and the profound influence he exercised on the
moral and intellectual life of the past century.
JOHN RUSKIN (1819-1900)
In approaching the study of Ruskin we are to remember, first of all, that
we are dealing with a great and good man, who is himself more inspiring
than any of his books. In some respects he is like his friend Carlyle,
whose disciple he acknowledged himself to be; but he is broader in his
sympathies, and in every way more hopeful, helpful, and humane. Thus, in
the face of the drudgery and poverty of the competitive system, Carlyle
proposed, with the grim satire of Swift's "Modest Proposal," to organize an
annual hunt in which successful people should shoot the unfortunate, and to
use the game for the support of the army and navy. Ruskin, facing the same
problem, wrote: "I will endure it no longer quietly; but henceforward, with
any few or many who will help, do my best to abate this misery." Then,
leaving the field of art criticism, where he was the acknowledged leader,
he begins to write of labor and justice; gives his fortune in charity, in
establishing schools and libraries; and founds his St. George's Guild of
workingmen, to put in practice the principles of brotherhood and
cooperation for which he and Carlyle contended. Though his style marks him
as one of the masters of English prose, he is generally studied not as a
literary man but as an ethical teacher, and we shall hardly appreciate his
works unless we see behind every book the figure of the heroically sincere
man who wrote it.
LIFE. Ruskin was born in London, in 1819. His father was a prosperous wine
merchant who gained a fortune in trade, and who spent his leisure hours in
the company of good books and pictures. On his tombstone one may still read
this inscription written by Ruskin: "He was an entirely honest merchant and
his memory is to all who keep it dear and helpful. His son, whom he loved
to the uttermost and taught to speak truth, says this of him." Ruskin's
mother, a devout and somewhat austere woman, brought her son up with
Puritanical strictness, not forgetting Solomon's injunction that "the rod
and reproof give wisdom."
Of Ruskin's early years at Herne Hill, on the outskirts of London, it is
better to read his own interesting record in _Praeterita_. It was in some
respects a cramped and lonely childhood, but certain things which strongly
molded his character are worthy of mention. First, he was taught by word
and example in all things to speak the truth, and he never forgot the
lesson. Second, he had few toys, and spent much time in studying the
leaves, the flowers, the grass, the clouds, even the figures and colors of
the carpet, and so laid the foundation for that minute and accurate
observation which is manifest in all his writings. Third, he was educated
first by his mother, then by private tutors, and so missed the discipline
of the public schools. The influence of this lonely training is evident in
all his work. Like Carlyle, he is often too positive and dogmatic,--the
result of failing to test his work by the standards of other men of his
age. Fourth, he was obliged to read the Bible every day and to learn long
passages verbatim. The result of this training was, he says, "to make every
word of the Scriptures familiar to my ear in habitual music." We can hardly
read a page of his later work without finding some reflection of the noble
simplicity or vivid imagery of the sacred records. Fifth, he traveled much
with his father and mother, and his innate love of nature was intensified
by what he saw on his leisurely journeys through the most beautiful parts
of England and the Continent.
Ruskin entered Christ Church College, Oxford, in 1836, when only seventeen
years old. He was at this time a shy, sensitive boy, a lover of nature and
of every art which reflects nature, but almost entirely ignorant of the
ways of boys and men. An attack of consumption, with which he had long been
threatened, caused him to leave Oxford in 1840, and for nearly two years he
wandered over Italy searching for health and cheerfulness, and gathering
materials for the first volume of _Modern Painters_, the book that made him
famous.
Ruskin's literary work began in childhood, when he was encouraged to write
freely in prose and poetry. A volume of poems illustrated by his own
drawings was published in 1859, after he had won fame as a prose writer,
but, save for the drawings, it is of small importance. The first volume of
_Modern Painters_ (1843) was begun as a heated defense of the artist
Turner, but it developed into an essay on art as a true picture of nature,
"not only in her outward aspect but in her inward spirit." The work, which
was signed simply "Oxford Graduate," aroused a storm of mingled approval
and protest; but however much critics warred over its theories of art, all
were agreed that the unknown author was a master of descriptive prose.
Ruskin now made frequent trips to the art galleries of the Continent, and
produced four more volumes of _Modern Painters_ during the next seventeen
years. Meanwhile he wrote other books,--_Seven Lamps of Architecture_
(1849), _Stones of Venice_ (1851-1853), _Pre-Raphaelitism_, and numerous
lectures and essays, which gave him a place in the world of art similar to
that held by Matthew Arnold in the world of letters. In 1869 he was
appointed professor of art at Oxford, a position which greatly increased
his prestige and influence, not only among students but among a great
variety of people who heard his lectures and read his published works.
_Lectures on Art, Aratra Pentelici_ (lectures on sculpture), _Ariadne
Florentina_ (lectures on engraving), _Michael Angela and Tintoret, The Art
of England, Val d'Arno_ (lectures on Tuscan art), _St. Mark's Rest_ (a
history of Venice), _Mornings in Florence_ (studies in Christian art, now
much used as a guidebook to the picture galleries of Florence), _The Laws
of Fiesole_ (a treatise on drawing and painting for schools), _Academy of
Fine Arts in Venice, Pleasures of England_,--all these works on art show
Ruskin's literary industry. And we must also record _Love's Meinie_ (a
study of birds), _Proserpina_ (a study of flowers), _Deucalion_ (a study of
waves and stones), besides various essays on political economy which
indicate that Ruskin, like Arnold, had begun to consider the practical
problems of his age.
At the height of his fame, in 1860, Ruskin turned for a time from art, to
consider questions of wealth and labor,--terms which were used glibly by
the economists of the age without much thought for their fundamental
meaning. "There is no wealth but life," announced Ruskin,--"life, including
all its powers of love, of joy, and of admiration. That country is the
richest which nourishes the greatest number of noble and happy human
beings." Such a doctrine, proclaimed by Goldsmith in his _Deserted
Village_, was regarded as a pretty sentiment, but coming from one of the
greatest leaders and teachers of England it was like a bombshell. Ruskin
wrote four essays establishing this doctrine and pleading for a more
socialistic form of government in which reform might be possible. The
essays were published in the _Cornhill Magazine_, of which Thackeray was
editor, and they aroused such a storm that the publication was
discontinued. Ruskin then published the essays in book form, with the title
_Unto This Last_, in 1862. _Munera Pulveris_ (1862) was another work in
which the principles of capital and labor and the evils of the competitive
system were discussed in such a way that the author was denounced as a
visionary or a madman. Other works of this practical period are _Time and
Tide, Fors Clavigera, Sesame and Lilies_, and the _Crown of Wild Olive_.
The latter part of Ruskin's life was a time of increasing sadness, due
partly to the failure of his plans, and partly to public attacks upon his
motives or upon his sanity. He grew bitter at first, as his critics
ridiculed or denounced his principles, and at times his voice is as
querulous as that of Carlyle. We are to remember, however, the conditions
under which he struggled. His health had been shattered by successive
attacks of disease; he had been disappointed in love; his marriage was
unhappy; and his work seemed a failure. He had given nearly all his fortune
in charity, and the poor were more numerous than ever before. His famous
St. George's Guild was not successful, and the tyranny of the competitive
system seemed too deeply rooted to be overthrown. On the death of his
mother he left London and, in 1879, retired to Brantwood, on Coniston Lake,
in the beautiful region beloved of Wordsworth. Here he passed the last
quiet years of his life under the care of his cousin, Mrs. Severn, the
"angel of the house," and wrote, at Professor Norton's suggestion,
_Praeterita_, one of his most interesting books, in which he describes the
events of his youth from his own view point. He died quietly in 1900, and
was buried, as he wished, without funeral pomp or public ceremony, in the
little churchyard at Coniston.
WORKS OF RUSKIN. There are three little books which, in popular favor,
stand first on the list of Ruskin's numerous works,--_Ethics-of-the-Dust_,
a series of Lectures to Little Housewives, which appeals most to women;