And then we come to Carlyle, and here we are on somewhat different
ground. Carlyle had a colossal quarrel with the age, but he thought
very little of the message of beauty and peace. His idea of the
world was that of a stern combative place, with the one hope a
strenuous and grim righteousness; Carlyle thought of the world as a
place where cheats and liars cozened and beguiled men, for their
own advantage, with all sorts of shams and pretences: but he did
not really know the world; he put down to individual action and
deliberate policy much that was due simply to the prevalence of
tradition and system, and to the complexity of civilisation. He was
so fierce an individualist himself that he credited everyone else
with purpose and prejudice. He did not realise the vast
preponderance of helpless good-nature and muddled kindliness. The
mistake of much of Carlyle's work is that it is too poignantly
dramatic, and bristles with intention and significance; and he did
not allow sufficiently for the crowd of vague supers who throng the
background of the stage.
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