LIFE OF JOHN STERLING.
By Thomas Carlyle.
PART I.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
Near seven years ago, a short while before his death in 1844, John
Sterling committed the care of his
literary Character and printed
Writings to two friends, Archdeacon Hare and myself. His
estimate of
the bequest was far from overweening; to few men could the small
sum-total of his activities in this world seem more inconsiderable
than, in those last
solemn days, it did to him. He had burnt much;
found much
worthy" target="_blank" title="a.不值得的;不足道的">
unworthy; looking steadfastly into the silent continents of
Death and Eternity, a brave man's judgments about his own sorry work
in the field of Time are not apt to be too lenient. But, in fine,
here was some
portion of his work which the world had already got hold
of, and which he could not burn. This too, since it was not to be
abolished and annihilated, but must still for some time live and act,
he wished to be
wisely settled, as the rest had been. And so it was
left in
charge to us, the survivors, to do for it what we judged
fittest, if indeed doing nothing did not seem the fittest to us. This
message, communicated after his
decease, was naturally a
sacred one to
Mr. Hare and me.
After some
consultation on it, and
survey of the difficulties and
delicate considerations involved in it, Archdeacon Hare and I agreed
that the whole task, of selecting what Writings were to be reprinted,
and of
drawing up a Biography to introduce them, should be left to him
alone; and done without
interference of mine:--as
accordingly" target="_blank" title="ad.因此;从而;依照">
accordingly it
was,[1] in a manner surely far superior to the common, in every good quality
of editing; and visibly everywhere
bearingtestimony to the
friendliness, the piety, perspicacity and other gifts and virtues of
that
eminent and
amiable man.
In one respect, however, if in one only, the
arrangement had been
unfortunate. Archdeacon Hare, both by natural
tendency and by his
position as a Churchman, had been led, in editing a Work not free from
ecclesiastical heresies, and especially in
writing a Life very full of
such, to dwell with preponderating
emphasis on that part of his
subject; by no means extenuating the fact, nor yet passing lightly
over it (which a
layman could have done) as needing no extenuation;
but carefully searching into it, with the view of excusing and
explaining it;
dwelling on it, presenting all the documents of it, and
as it were spreading it over the whole field of his delineation; as if
religious heterodoxy had been the grand fact of Sterling's life, which
even to the Archdeacon's mind it could by no means seem to be. _Hinc
illae lachrymae_. For the Religious Newspapers, and Periodical
Heresy-hunters, getting very
lively in those years, were
prompt to
seize the cue; and have
prosecuted and perhaps still
prosecute it, in
their sad way, to all lengths and breadths. John Sterling's
characterand
writings, which had little business to be
spoken of in any
Church-court, have
hereby been carried
thither as if for an exclusive
trial; and the mournfulest set of pleadings, out of which nothing but
a misjudgment _can_ be formed,
prevail there ever since. The noble
Sterling, a
radiant child of the empyrean, clad in bright auroral hues
in the memory of all that knew him,--what is he doing here in
inquisitorial _sanbenito_, with nothing but
ghastly spectralities
prowling round him, and inarticulately screeching and gibbering what
they call their judgment on him!
"The sin of Hare's Book," says one of my Correspondents in those
years, "is easily
defined, and not very condemnable, but it is
nevertheless ruinous to his task as Biographer. He takes up Sterling
as a
clergyman merely. Sterling, I find, was a curate for exactly
eight months; during eight months and no more had he any special
relation to the Church. But he was a man, and had relation to the
Universe, for eight-and-thirty years: and it is in this latter
character, to which all the others were but features and transitory
hues, that we wish to know him. His battle with
hereditary Church
formulas was
severe; but it was by no means his one battle with things
inherited, nor indeed his chief battle; neither,
according to my
observation of what it was, is it
successfully delineated or summed up
in this Book. The truth is, nobody that had known Sterling would
recognize a feature of him here; you would never dream that this Book
treated of _him_ at all. A pale
sickly shadow in torn surplice is
presented to us here; weltering bewildered amid heaps of what you call
'Hebrew Old-clothes;' wrestling, with impotent impetuosity, to free
itself from the baleful imbroglio, as if that had been its one
function in life: who in this
miserable figure would recognize the
brilliant, beautiful and
cheerful John Sterling, with his ever-flowing
wealth of ideas, fancies, imaginations; with his frank affections,
inexhaustible hopes, audacities, activities, and general
radiantvivacity of heart and
intelligence, which made the presence of him an
illumination and
inspirationwherever he went? It is too bad. Let a
man be
honestly forgotten when his life ends; but let him not be
misremembered in this way. To be hung up as an ecclesiastical
scarecrow, as a target for heterodox and
orthodox to practice archery
upon, is no fate that can be due to the memory of Sterling. It was
not as a
ghastly phantasm, choked in Thirty-nine-article
controversies, or
miserable Semitic, Anti-Semitic street-riots,--in
scepticisms, agonized self-seekings, that this man appeared in life;
nor as such, if the world still wishes to look at him should you
suffer the world's memory of him now to be. Once for all, it is
unjust;
emphaticallyuntrue as an image of John Sterling: perhaps to
few men that lived along with him could such an
interpretation of
their
existence be more inapplicable."
Whatever truth there might be in these rather passionate
representations, and to myself there wanted not a
painful feeling of
their truth, it by no means appeared what help or
remedy any friend of
Sterling's, and especially one so
related to the matter as myself,
could attempt in the interim. Perhaps
endure in
patience till the
dust laid itself again, as all dust does if you leave it well alone?
Much obscuration would thus of its own
accord fall away; and, in Mr.
Hare's
narrative itself, apart from his
commentary, many features of
Sterling's true
character would become decipherable to such as sought
them. Censure, blame of this Work of Mr. Hare's was naturally far
from my thoughts. A work which distinguishes itself by human piety
and candid
intelligence; which, in all details, is careful, lucid,
exact; and which offers, as we say, to the observant reader that will
interpret facts, many traits of Sterling besides his heterodoxy.
Censure of it, from me especially, is not the thing due; from me a far
other thing is due!--
On the whole, my private thought was: First, How happy it
comparatively is, for a man of any
earnestness of life, to have no
Biography written of him; but to return
silently, with his small,
sorely foiled bit of work, to the Supreme Silences, who alone can
judge of it or him; and not to trouble the reviewers, and greater or
lesser public, with attempting to judge it! The idea of "fame," as
they call it, posthumous or other, does not
inspire one with much
ecstasy in these points of view.--Secondly, That Sterling's
performance and real or
seeming importance in this world was actually
not of a kind to demand an express Biography, even
according to the
world's usages. His
character was not
supremely original; neither was
his fate in the world wonderful. What he did was inconsiderable
enough; and as to what it lay in him to have done, this was but a
problem, now beyond
possibility of settlement. Why had a Biography
been inflicted on this man; why had not No-
biography, and the
privilege of all the weary, been his lot?--Thirdly, That such lot,
however, could now no longer be my good Sterling's; a
tumult having
risen around his name, enough to
impress some pretended
likeness of
him (about as like as the Guy-Fauxes are, on Gunpowder-Day) upon the
minds of many men: so that he could not be forgotten, and could only
be misremembered, as matters now stood.
Whereupon, as practical
conclusion to the whole, arose by degrees this
final thought, That, at some calmer season, when the
theological dust
had well fallen, and both the matter itself, and my feelings on it,
were in a suitabler condition, I ought to give my
testimony about this
friend whom I had known so well, and record clearly what my knowledge
of him was. This has ever since seemed a kind of duty I had to do in
the world before leaving it.
And so, having on my hands some
leisure at this time, and being bound
to it by
evident considerations, one of which ought to be especially
sacred to me, I decide to fling down on paper some
outline of what my
recollections and reflections
contain in
reference to this most
friendly, bright and beautiful human soul; who walked with me for a
season in this world, and remains to me very
memorable while I