212 FRESH FIELDS 



mind and purpose. Not even was Emerson ade- 

 quate to such a task; he was fine enough and high 

 enough, but he was not coarse enough and broad 

 enough. The scholarly part of Carlyle's work is 

 nearly always thrown in the shade by the manly 

 part, the original raciness and personal intensity of 

 the writer. He is not in the least veiled or hidden 

 by his literary vestments. He is rather hampered 

 by them, and his sturdy Annandale character often 

 breaks through them in the most surprising manner. 

 His contemporaries soon discovered that if here was 

 a great writer, here was also a great man, come not 

 merely to paint their picture, but to judge them, to 

 weigh them in. the balance. He is eminently an 

 artist, and yet it is not the artistic or literary 

 impulse that lies at the bottom of his works, but 

 a moral, human, emotional impulse and attraction, 

 — the impulse of justice, of veracity, or of sympa- 

 thy and love. 



What love of work well done, what love of gen- 

 uine leadership, of devotion to duty, of mastery of 

 affairs, in fact what love of man pure and simple, 

 lies at the bottom of "Frederick," lies at the bot- 

 tom of "Cromwell"! Here is not the disinterest- 

 edness of Shakespeare, here is not the Hellenic 

 flexibility of mind and scientific impartiality Mr. 

 Arnold demands: here is espousal, here is vindica- 

 tion, here is the moral bias of the nineteenth cen- 

 tury. But here also is reality, here is the creative 

 touch, here are men and things made alive again, 

 palpable to the understanding and enticing to the 



