"If the acted life of a pius Vates is so high a matter, the written life, which, if properly written, would be a translation and interpretation thereof, must also have great value. It has been said that no Poet is equal to his Poem, which saying is partially true; but in a deeper sense, it may also be asserted, and with still greater truth, that no Poem is equal to its Poet. Now, it is Biography which first gives us both Poet and Poem; by the significance of the one, elucidating and completing that of the other. That ideal outline of himself, which a man unconsciously shadows forth in his writings, and which, rightly deciphered, will be truer than any other representation of him, it is the task of the Biographer to fill up into an actual coherent figure, and bring home to our experience, or at least clear, undoubting admiration, thereby to instruct and edify us in many ways. Conducted on such principles, the Biography of great men, especially of great poets, that is, of men in the highest degree noble minded and wise, might become one of the most dignified and valuable species of composition. As matters stand, indeed, there are few Biographies that accomplish anything of this kind; the most are mere Indexes of a Biography, which each reader is to write out for himself, as he peruses them; not the living body, but the dry bones of a body, which should have been alive. To expect any such Promethean virtue in a common Life-writer were unreasonable enough. How shall that unhappy Biographic brotherhood, instead of writing like Index-makers and Government-clerks, suddenly become enkindled with some sparks of intellect, or even of genial fire; and not only collecting dates and facts, but making use of them, look beyond the surface and economical form of a man's life, into its substance and spirit?"
In pursuit of this great aim, Carlyle has to adapt his method to his subject. In writing of Richter, a man unknown to the British public of his time, he has to give us himself the "dry bones" of fact, before he can give the "living body." But in the case of Burns, as he can assume that his readers are familiar with Burns's chief poems, and know the main events of his life, he brushes aside all detail, and treats at once the inner meaning and value of the poet's life and work. To appreciate Carlyle's essay, we must fulfil his expectation of us, and know Burns at first hand before we start to read about him.
We must now ask how far Carlyle corresponds to his own ideal biographer. No one can read this essay without admitting that we have in it a powerful and sympathetic conception of Burns. To decide whether this conception is just and impartial we must take into account the writer's general temperament and leading ideas.
Carlyle is a hero-worshipper in all his work, as a quotation from Sartor Resartus will best explain:—
"Meanwhile, observe with joy, so cunningly has Nature ordered it, that whatsoever man ought to obey, he cannot but obey. Before no faintest revelation of the Godlike did he ever stand irreverent; least of all, when the Godlike showed itself revealed in his fellow-man. Thus there is a true religious Loyalty forever rooted in his heart; nay in all ages, even in ours, it manifests itself as a more or less orthodox Hero-worship. In which fact, that Hero-worship exists, has existed, and will forever exist, universally among Mankind, mayest thou discern the corner-stone of living-rock, whereon all Politics for the remotest time may stand secure.
"Hast thou forgotten Paris and Voltaire? How the aged, withered man, though but a skeptic, mocker, and millinery Court-poet, yet because even he seemed the Wisest, Best, could drag mankind at his chariot-wheels, so that princes coveted a smile from him, and the loveliest of France would have laid their hair beneath his feet. All Paris was one vast Temple of Hero-worship; though their Divinity, moreover, was of feature too apish."[[12]]
As Carlyle is fallible, like other men, the practical effect of his doctrine is that he exalts those whom he likes, and throws contempt on those whom he dislikes. Since he is attracted by Burns's noble qualities, above all by his sincerity, he forms a grand ideal conception of him. Indeed, in his Heroes and Hero-Worship, written twelve years later, he boldly pronounces Burns "the most gifted British soul we had in all that century of his." The lecture upon "the hero as man of letters" should be studied carefully by all who wish to understand Carlyle's attitude towards the great writers of the world, and towards Burns as one of them. It would, however, be of small use to read, as a sort of postscript to this essay, the half-dozen pages which Carlyle there devotes especially to Burns. He there repeats many of the thoughts of this essay,—when a writer has once clearly and fully spoken his mind of a man he cannot well treat of him again without repetition. The value of the lecture on "the hero as man of letters" is, that it gives us in brief form general ideas, of which the Essay on Burns is a particular application.
In consequence of his conception of Burns as a hero, Carlyle casts aside, as of slight importance in the general estimate, evidence that opposes his own view, or even entirely refuses to believe it. Thus he dwells on Burns's finest poems, and pays little heed to his affected English verse and stilted prose. Yet they, too, are of Burns's writing, and demand full consideration, if we are to understand the whole man. Again, he will not credit an anecdote for which there is fairly good evidence, because it shows in Burns a foolish vanity that seems to him impossible. So, at the best, our essay gives only a partial view of Burns. Those who wish to learn more of the seamy side of the poet's character will do well to read an essay by as loyal a son of Scotland, and as kindly and sympathetic a writer, as Carlyle himself,—Robert Louis Stevenson.[[13]]
Much more might be said in dispraise of Carlyle's work, and yet its essential greatness would remain unaffected. After the lapse of nearly seventy years, this essay is still by far our best portrait of Burns. All succeeding critics have had to take Carlyle into account. They may differ widely from his conclusions, but they cannot fail to recognize his transcendent merits. Though the judgments of Carlyle on Burns have, in the main, stood well the test of time, yet in this, as in all his writings, his excellence lies less in his own opinions than in his power to make others think for themselves. Carlyle has little of the finish, proportion, discrimination, that we find in Matthew Arnold or Sainte-Beuve. But for the ordinary reader he is far more useful than many a writer who comes nearer the absolute truth. He touches our hearts and arouses our sympathies. Most readers of a critic ask, not: "After reading this essay can I distinguish more accurately between the good and bad art in my author, and judge better of their comparative importance?" but: "Does this critic make me more able to understand the best that is in my poet, so that I share more deeply in his highest life and thought?" Let us then, with due reverence, approach the thoughts of one of the greatest thinkers of Scotland upon the greatest of her poets.
[[1]] Froude: Thomas Carlyle, a History of the First Forty Years of his Life, ii. 188.