—from Past and Present(Chapter 4 of Book Ⅲ)
Thomas Carlyle
All work, even cotton-spinning, is noble; work is alone noble: be that here said and asserted once more.And in like manner too all dignity is painful; a life of ease is not for any man, nor for any god. The life of all gods figures itself to us as a Sublime Sadness—earnestness of Infinite Battle against Infinite Labour.Our highest religion is named the ‘Worship of Sorrow.’For the son of man there is no noble crown, well worn, or even ill worn, but is a crown of thorns!—These things, in spoken words, or still better, in felt instincts alive in every heart, were once well known.
Does not the whole wretchedness, the wholeAtheismas I call it, of man’s ways, in these generations, shadow itself for us in that unspeakable Life-philosophy of his: The pretension to be what he calls “happy”? Every pitifulest whipster that walks within a skin has his head filled with the notion that he is, shall be, or by all human and divine laws ought to be, “happy”.His wishes, the pitifulest whipster’s, are to be fulfilled for him; his days, the pitifulest whipster’s, are to flow on in ever-gentle current of enjoyment, impossible even for the gods.The prophets preach to us, Thou shalt be happy; thou shalt love pleasant things, and find them.The people clamor, why have we not found pleasant things?
We construct our theory of Human Duties, not on any Greatest-Nobleness Principle, never so mistaken; no, but on a Greatest-Happiness Principle.The word Soulwith us, as in some Slavonic dialects, seems to be synonymous withStomach.We plead and speak, in our Parliaments and elsewhere, not as from the Soul, but from the Stomach;—wherefore, indeed, our pleadings are so slow to profit.We plead not for God’s justice; we are not ashamed to stand clamoring and pleading for our own “interests”, our own rents and trade-profits; we say.They are the “interests”of so many; there is such an intense desire for them in us! We demand Free-Trade, with much just vociferation and benevolence, that the poorer classes, who are terribly ill-off at present, may have cheaper New-Orleans bacon.Men ask on Free-trade platforms, how can the indomitable spirit of Englishmen be kept up without plenty of bacon? We shall become a ruined Nation!—surely, my friends, plenty of bacon is good and indispensable: but, I doubt, you will never get even bacon by aiming only at that.You are men, not animals of prey, well-used or ill-used! Your Greatest-Happiness Principle seems to me fast becoming a rather unhappy one.—What if we should cease babbling about “happiness”, and leaveitresting on its own basis, as it used to do!