[STEWART] THOMAS CARLYLE 21 



about "the stern Avatar of Democracy hymning its world-thrilling 

 birth song in the distant West, whence it must go forth conquering 

 and to conquer, till dead Feudal Europe should be born again as a 

 land of industrialism." And, though we shall doubtless conclude that 

 his notion of a benevolent despot is now less plausible than ever it 

 was before, let us bear in mind how he defined such a Hero, how king- 

 ship was, in his estimate, for public service, not for personal privilege, 

 lest as we note his honest mistake we dishonour our great man of 

 letters by confusing him with those to whom his resemblance is merely 

 on the surface. The real key to his whole position seems to lie in that 

 problem which he so sagaciously stated both for his time and for 

 ours, that of combining zeal for the public good with the advantages of 

 expert guidance and control, or — as he put the query; What steps shall 

 be taken by a people which believes in the French Revolution and also 

 believes in Frederick the Great ? 



That Carlyle was democratic in the sense of an enthusiast for 

 the just rights of the common people may be seen in two famous 

 protests against class arrogance. His first social task was to preach 

 the gospel of work, the obligation and dignity of strenuous, productive 

 labour. As he preached it this was almost a new truth to Englishmen 

 in the first quarter of the nineteenth century. The ideal of a luxurious 

 and leisured life for the upper social orders had scarcely begun to be 

 challenged. Look at writers such as De Quincey and Coleridge and 

 even Sydney Smith. They exhausted themselves in extolling the 

 social value of that part of the community which we should call idle. 

 The idea is put forward that these persons are to be admired not for 

 what they do — for in truth they often do nothing at all — but for what 

 they are. Those whom Sydney Smith in his quaint phrase called 

 "the lower and middling classes" are bidden to give thanks daily for 

 that pattern of cultured refinement which those above them are fitted 

 both by nature and by circumstance to display. Carlyle was among 

 the first, as he was by far the most effective, to insinuate against 

 this ideal some wholesome doubts. He tried, indeed, not to exaggerate 

 the grievance presented by the idler, and to acknowledge the notable 

 exceptions which must be made. "Among our aristocracy," he wrote 

 in 1832, "there are men, we trust there are many men, who feel that 

 they also are workmen, born to toil ever in their great Taskmaster's 

 eye, faithfully with heart and head for those that with heart and head 

 do under the same great Taskmaster toil for them." But in that 

 mordant chapter of Past and Present which he entitled "Unworking 

 Aristocracy" he branded those who had no such sense of obligation, 

 who looked upon their rank as a mere privilege, and on duties as 



