Past and Present: Thomas Carlyle's Collected Works, Vol. XIII.Carlyle, Thomas
Philosophy
Past and Present: Thomas Carlyle's Collected Works, Vol. XIII.
Carlyle, Thomas
Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century; Social problems
Mark on that nose the colour left by too copious port and viands; to
which the profuse cravat with exorbitant breastpin, and the fixed,
forward, and as it were menacing glance of the eyes correspond. That
is a 'Man of Business;' prosperous manufacturer, house-contractor,
engineer, law-manager; his eye, nose, cravat have, in such work and
fortune, got such a character: deny him not thy praise, thy pity. Pity
him too, the Hard-handed, with bony brow, rudely-combed hair, eyes
looking out as in labour, in difficulty and uncertainty; rude mouth,
the lips coarse, loose, as in hard toil and lifelong fatigue they
have got the habit of hanging:--hast thou seen aught more touching
than the rude intelligence, so cramped, yet energetic, unsubduable,
true, which looks out of that marred visage? Alas, and his poor wife,
with her own hands, washed that cotton neck-cloth for him, buttoned
that coarse shirt, sent him forth creditably trimmed as she could. In
such imprisonment lives he, for his part; man cannot now deliver him:
the red pulpy infant has been baked and fashioned _so_.
Or what kind of baking was it that this other brother mortal got,
which has baked him into the genus Dandy? Elegant Vacuum; serenely
looking down upon all Plenums and Entities as low and poor to his
serene Chimeraship and _Non_entity laboriously attained! Heroic
Vacuum; inexpugnable, while purse and present condition of society
hold out; curable by no hellebore. The doom of Fate was, Be thou a
Dandy! Have thy eye-glasses, opera-glasses, thy Long-Acre cabs with
white-breeched tiger, thy yawning impassivities, pococurantisms; _fix_
thyself in Dandyhood, undeliverable; it is thy doom.
And all these, we say, were red-coloured infants; of the same pulp and
stuff, few years ago; now irretrievably shaped and kneaded as we see!
Formulas? There is no mortal extant, out of the depths of Bedlam, but
lives all skinned, thatched, covered over with Formulas; and is, as it
were, held in from delirium and the Inane by his Formulas! They are
withal the most beneficent, indispensable of human equipments: blessed
he who has a skin and tissues, so it be a living one, and the
heart-pulse everywhere discernible through it. Monachism, Feudalism,
with a real King Plantagenet, with real Abbots Samson, and their other
living realities, how blessed!--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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