Comparison between Ruskin and Carlyle. 243 life, although his immediate theme be the expression of its happiness. Whereas Carlyle has little sympathy but with the strong, and the expression of strength. Singularly accordant with his partial conception of life, is Carlyle's impatience of the very subject of art (excluding Poetry) to which he acknowledges in his Life of Sterling. Carlyle exalts the will, till it threatens to become its own law, to call itself "I am." Ruskin delights to illustrate its operation in that service which is perfect freedom. Carlyle would guide the passions. Ruskin seeks to train the affections. "The affections" (and we again quote Trench) "and the relations between God and Man are the only root out of which any poetry or art worthy of the name have ever sprung." This proposition is perfectly correspondent with that of art being the expression of man's delight in God's work. The affections are not only overlooked in Carlyle's philosophy; they are almost necessarily thrust out, because of the restraint, inherent in their exercise, which is liable to be antagonistic to the independent will. No writer, more than Carlyle, delights to exalt Faith as exhibited in confidence and steadfastness of purpose. Let us hear Mr. Ruskin upon the same subject, remembering that the passage we quote is one in which he touches on it, merely incidentally, in discussing the typical beauty of Repose. "But that" (repose) "which in lifeless things ennobles them by seeming to indicate life, ennobles higher creatures by indicating the exaltation of their earthly vitality into a Divine vitality: and raising the life of sense into the life of faith,-faith, whether we receive it in the sense of adherence to resolution, obedience to law, regardfulness of promise, in which from all time it has been the test as the shield of the true being and life of man, or in the still higher sense of trustfulness in the presence, kindness, and word of God; in which For whether in form it has been exhibited under the Christian dispensation. one or other form, whether the faithfulness of men whose path is chosen and portion fixed, in the following and receiving of that path and portion, as in the Thermopylee camp: or the happier faithfulness of children in the good giving of their Father, and of subjects in the conduct of their king, as in the stand still and see the salvation of God' of the Red Sea shore, there is rest and peacefulness, the 'standing still in both, the quietness of action determined, of spirit unalarmed, of expectation unimpatient; beautiful, even when based only as of old, in the self-command and self-possession, the persistent dignity or the uncalculating love of the creature, but more beautiful yet when the rest is one of humility instead of pride, and the trust no more in the resolution we have taken, but in the hand we hold."* Note both the catholic and the peculiarly Christian conception of the virtue. If any of our readers who have, or shall have hereafter, read Mr. Ruskin's works, especially the "Stones of Venice," will turn to Carlyle's Essay intituled "Characteristics" in the second volume of his * Modern Painters, vol. ii. p. 62. "Miscellanies," although it is not one which peculiarly illustrates the deficiencies of Carlyle's philosophy, we venture to say, that, whatever they may think of one or the other, they will be satisfied, that our connection of their two names is no arbitrary or fanciful association. What truth Carlyle has apprehended, and it is no small or unimportant phase of Truth, which is the light of his philosophy, he has dinned into the ears of this generation with most forcible iteration, and he has done his work effectively, for good or evil. We believe on the whole for good; nevertheless the truth he offers, is but partial truth, capable of most pernicious combinations, and its principal deficiencies are in respect of the elements most peculiar to Christianity. Carlyle's philosophy, if treated as complete, and gathered up into any one fundamental principle, will not bear the Christian test. But any such completeness is, we believe, a forced character; it is in reality incomplete. It affords no fundamental principle, or common purpose, for all human action; it has not real unity; it is not that Truth to which one of the sweetest of English Poets has consecrated the name "Una." A real apprehension of the unity of Truth, is the only firm foundation of effective belief, because Truth must be its own witness, and it is only in the apprehension of its all-pervading unity, that the force of its own testimony is fully felt. In these days, when Philosophy puzzles itself by painfully evolving such truisms as that we cannot prove Truth, we particularly need to be made to feel, in all ways, that, in everything, Truth is and must be its own witness;that fundamental Truth being the relation of each thing to its first cause, and Good the operation of Truth, there is nothing higher or antecedent by which to prove it,-that Truth has come a light into the world, and it is not our business even to test its power by shutting our eyes and abiding in darkness, but to walk by it and be thankful for it. We mean not hereby to assert anything of the degree, or of the causes of the vast difference of degrees, in which men have the power of discerning Truth, of perceiving its light at all, or of distinguishing its light from the glare of false fires; we mean only to assert, that, whilst the allegation that Truth bears witness of itself is just, the inference, that the record is inadmissible, is as illogical as it is impious; and that in its all comprehensive unity is the force of its testimony. Hence the fundamental character and eminent value of all books which afford effective practical teaching of the unity of Truth.-A philosophical disquisition thereon may command a speculative assent, but perhaps scarcely stir the heart, and faintly stimulate the moral sense; but the indirect teaching, in writings like Mr. Ruskin's, has the subtlety, and force, and catholic aptitude of parables.-He asserts that the functions of the artist can Love of the beautiful and true. 245 be rightly performed, and the true purposes of art fulfilled, only when viewed in relation to the highest purposes of existence, and exercised under the observance of all that is comprehended in the two great commandments, on which hang all the law and the prophets. He shews how all that is greatest in art has been attained by the observance of the great laws of self-sacrifice, veracity, temperance, and love, which are the foundations of all moral greatness; he shews the most striking analogies between the spirit of the architecture of Venice in successive periods, and the spirit of that great Republic in its rise, in the zenith of its power, and in its swift decline. The minuter analogies of moral and artistic truth are endless, and, in their aggregate witness, consists the weightiest evidence for the general truth of Mr. Ruskin's views. We have not proposed to ourselves to justify Mr. Ruskin's views respecting art, but only to state them; and we have done that but partially and feebly. We believe him to be, on the whole, right.To say that he is a reformer, is to say, that the faults of the man, whatever they may be, must be conspicuous. Open aggression must, of necessity, appear violent and one-sided. One man boldly asserts, that the tradition of several generations is false, and must be abandoned. He comes forward as the champion of the truth, in the sole confidence that truth will prevail. We have endeavoured to illustrate his principal propositions respecting art; but in detail, we have offered neither criticism nor defence. Mr. Ruskin's writings contain their own defence, written with remarkable perspicuity, an extraordinary fulness and aptitude of illustration, and surpassing eloquence.—Our purpose has been to induce our readers to read and judge for themselves. As we do not defend, so we do not blame. From the writings of one so remarkably fearless in stating all legitimate inferences from his propositions or conclusions-in the course of many volumes of earnest discussion, in which every passing fact and thought is seized and compelled to render such service as it may to imperious Truth, who haply sometimes suffers from the treachery of the unwilling servant, it would be easy to extract inconsistencies, still easier to select propositions which, isolated, might appear inexcusably dogmatic, extravagant, or false; nor can we be surprised, if accumulated irritation from the stings of malicious criticism, and the unavoidable heat of earnest argument, have sometimes caused a contemptuous tone which a calmer mood would soften, and perhaps a more impassioned hostility than charity to unwilful error can approve. But unsparing as are Ruskin's judgments of error, it is in his sympathy with what is beautiful and true that his spirit finds its fullest utterance. Whatsoever things are honest, just, pure; whatsoever things are lovely, of good report, if there be any virtue, if any praise, they who think on these things will find them offered in loving profusion in Ruskin's works. We can understand that the professional artist, fully imbued with all that Ruskin desires to reform, and studying his works with purely professional aim, and through the medium of his own prejudices, whether true or false, may without violation of his moral sense fail to perceive their force and value; but the ordinary reader must have strangely perverted sympathies, if the garden of fruitful thoughts and bright imaginations which is spread before him in these volumes appear to him but an uncultivated wilderness. The unity of Truth, as affording a common purpose to all action whatever, has its simplest expression in the sentence, that, whether we eat or drink or whatever we do, it is to be done to the glory of God. If Ruskin had said that, and St. Paul had not, we believe it would be regarded by many as equally absurd and profane. For, it is vaguely imagined, that such is the ultimate purpose of life in the general, but not in the particular, and it is not vaguely imagined, it is, as distinctly, as erroneously, imagined, that there are many duties which can be equally well performed without reference to that purpose, and that a large portion of our duties are either altogether of that class, or have so slight significance, that any conscious reference to that purpose is unnecessary. But, under the protection of St. Paul, we may safely repeat the statement, that the ultimate purpose of each several action ought to be the glory of God, and with no lower motive do we commend to our readers the writings of John Ruskin. Byker? P. Anderson ༤. ART. II. THE MORALS OF THE INDIAN ARMY. Oakfield, or Fellowship in the East. By PUNJABEE. 2 Vols. 2. Records of the Indian Command of General Sir Charles IF war confers no other benefit upon mankind, at least it makes a commotion in our hearts; stirs up our feelings, the bitterness and sweetness of which are both intensified; the bitterness being then thrown off on our enemies, the sweetness reserved for our friends, and particularly our protectors, to whom our sympathies are given de profundis. Hence the singular and pleasing contrast between the sentiments with which the British public regarded military officers a short time since, and those which they express now. The gallant fellows are undergoing severe trials, exposing their lives, performing deeds of wondrous daring for their country's sake. God bless them! We should like to shake hands with them all, drink their healths a hundred times; fling up our caps and rend the air with hurras for every officer in the British Army. But we are sure they themselves will not object, if after our fit of enthusiasm has passed, we regard them as Christians and gentlemen, as well as soldiers, and, having given them the honour due to their martial prowess abroad, treat them as members of society at home. And if they see us finding fault with them in this character they must not attribute it to civilian jealousy. On the contrary, it is because we regard them as a constituent part of the nation, as members of our large family; not only as men who fight for us, and are so far outsiders; but as friends who live with us, are perhaps joined to us by the ties of consanguinity and mutually kind offices, in whom we really wish to feel as much interest as in persons of our own class and calling. The moral condition of the Army has of late years attracted an unusual amount of attention, and has been discussed not only in ephemeral works, but also in periodicals which represent the most gifted minds of Britain. It has also been a subject of oracular remarks in official adjudications, and the authorities have occasionally in elaborate documents expressed their opinions on the general question. With scarcely an exception the authors of all these productions are military men. Some have taken one side; some the other. The only difference has been in the organs which they have VOL. I.-NO. II. 4 |