Unluckily,
Mazzini was with us, whose society, when he was there alone, I enjoyed
more than any. He is a beauteous and pure music; also, he is a dear
friend of Mrs. C.; but his being there gave the conversation a turn to
"progress" and ideal subjects, and C. was fluent in invectives on
all our "rose-water imbecilities." We all felt distant from him, and
Mazzini, after some vain efforts to remonstrate, became very sad. Mrs.
C. said to me, "These are but opinions to Carlyle; but to Mazzini, who
has given his all, and helped bring his friends to the scaffold, in
pursuit of such subjects, it is a matter of life and death."
All Carlyle's talk, that evening, was a defence of mere
force,--success the test of right;--if people would not behave well,
put collars round their necks;--find a hero, and let them be his
slaves, &c. It was very Titanic, and anti-celestial. I wish the last
evening had been more melodious. However, I bid Carlyle farewell with
feelings of the warmest friendship and admiration. We cannot feel
otherwise to a great and noble nature, whether it harmonize with our
own or not. I never appreciated the work he has done for his age
till I saw England.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257