I
The names Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881) and Eugène Sue (1804–1857) rarely figure in the same sentence. Carlyle is commonly remembered as a dour Scots Calvinist and eminent Victorian; Sue, in contrast, as a sensational French novelist, and sybarite-turned-champagne-socialist. Nevertheless, the following article will contend that Carlyle was in fact familiar with the works of Sue, to such an extent that he adapted passages from the latter's Mystères de Paris (1842–1843) in his own Latter-Day Pamphlets (1850). First, the article will offer a brief sketch of Sue and his novel, before discussing their reception amongst Carlyle's circle of friends and acquaintances. It will then suggest that Carlyle himself was likely to have read the novel, and then proceed to compare the relevant passages of the Mystères and the Pamphlets, which together constitute the primary focus of the article. Finally, it will be argued that this matter is far from being a mere curiosity, of concern only to the most obsessive of Carlyle scholars. To the contrary, it will be suggested that in understanding what Carlyle did with Sue, we will be better able to grasp the meaning of some of the more notorious passages of his most notorious work, and particularly their political thrust. In doing so, the article will build upon a number of recent studies of the reception of French literature in Victorian Britain, and will also reopen the question of Carlyle's debts to French socialism, an issue that continues to be a matter of some controversy amongst Carlyle scholars.
II
Born in Paris in 1804, Joseph Marie Eugène Sue was the son of a successful surgeon, who had risen through the ranks of Napoleon's army.Footnote 1 Sue himself worked as a surgeon to the French navy, until his father's death in 1830 left him in possession of a large fortune. Settling in Paris, Sue proceeded to churn out an array of moderately successful adventure novels, frequently drawing upon his own maritime experience. However, Sue became increasingly preoccupied with the so-called “social question,” and this was reflected in the Mystères de Paris, which began to appear in serial form in the Journal des Débats in 1842. In a nutshell, the novel followed the adventures of the enigmatic (dashing, handsome) Prince Rodolphe, principally amidst the bas-fonds of Paris. Here, Rodolphe sought to punish wrongdoers, while at the same time providing succour to the deserving poor. Particularly relevant to this article are those passages in which Sue protested against the philanthropy showered upon criminals, contrasting this with the neglect of honest proletarians, suffering under the scourge of market competition (see Nathan).
The success of the Mystères de Paris was immediate, massive, and near-universal. Many workers claimed Sue as their tribune, and wrote to encourage him (Lyon-Caen 79). Moreover, the early instalments of the novel also brought Sue to the attention of several contemporary French socialists, who saw in him a potential ally. For instance, in June 1842, the Mystères received a favourable review from the Fourierist press, leading to a meeting between Sue and the Fourierist leader, Victor Considérant. Encouraged, Sue stepped up his advocacy of socialist ideals, such as the “Organisation of Labour.” In doing so, he won further plaudits not only from the Fourierists, but also from numerous other French socialists, particularly the Saint-Simonians. This was no doubt due to the fact, as Anne-Marie Thiesse has shown, that the Mystères de Paris made extensive use of many Saint-Simonian ideas (see Thiesse).Footnote 2 For instance, in July 1843, the Saint-Simonian leader Enfantin wrote to Sue: “Mon cher Monsieur, c'est bien beau et bien bon ce que vous faîtes en ce moment” (30 July 1843, qtd. in Thiesse 148). Two months later, Sue received additional encouragement from another prominent Saint-Simonian, Arlès-Dufour, who claimed that Sue was “destined to exert an immense influence upon European literature, and to endow the latter with a moral utility hitherto unknown” (9 Sep. 1843, qtd. in Thiesse 148 – my translation). Encouraged, Sue kept up his advocacy, with the result that, two years later in 1845, the Fourierist journal La Démocratie pacifique praised him as “the tribune of the people, the friend of true progress and order, and the propagator of association and the organisation of labour” (1 Sep. 1845, qtd. in Lyon-Caen 84 – my translation). During the 1848 revolution, Sue defended the Red Republic, and successfully stood for election to the National Assembly. In an electoral address delivered on 23 April 1850, he declared: “Theoreticians deal with questions of pure doctrine, and formulate in their own manner the abstract principle of social science. I have played a different role: I have striven to popularise the general ideas of socialism” (qtd. in Thiesse 150 – my translation).
A subsequent section will examine in greater depth some of the Saint-Simonian passages of the Mystères de Paris, particularly those regarding model prisons and the “Organisation of Labour.” In particular, it will be argued that these passages were adapted by Carlyle in his Latter-Day Pamphlets. Before doing so, however, it will first be necessary to examine the reception of the Mystères in Britain, particularly amongst Carlyle's circle of friends and acquaintances.
III
As Juliette Atkinson has recently noted, the assumption that the Victorians rejected contemporary French literature as “immoral” has proven stubbornly persistent, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary (391–93). In fact, the productions of leading French novelists met with a wide-ranging and enthusiastic response in Britain, not least through the medium of English translations. For instance, between 1842 and 1847, no less than seven of George Sand's novels made their way to Britain (Bensimon 200–01). Moreover, thanks to the endeavours of Berry Palmer Chevasco, we now possess a near-exhaustive study of the British reception of Eugène Sue, and particularly of his Mystères de Paris. As Chevasco points out, in 1844 and 1845 alone, thirteen separate editions of Sue's novels appeared in Britain (80).
That Sue was generally read in Britain during the 1840s can thus be stated with some certainty. However, more pertinent to this article is the fact that Sue was read amongst Carlyle's circle of friends and acquaintances. Before moving on to look at Carlyle himself, it will be necessary to provide a brief sketch of this surrounding context. Above all, this will serve to strengthen the hypothesis that Carlyle was indeed familiar with Sue's Mystères de Paris by the time of the Latter-Day Pamphlets (1850). In particular, this section will discuss references to Sue in the writings of John Forster, Charles Dickens, William Makepeace Thackeray, Henry Fothergill Chorley, and George Henry Lewes, suggesting that Carlyle could have become aware of Sue through any or all of these five acquaintances.
As the editor of Carlyle and Forster's correspondence has pointed out, “if there was one person more than any other to whom Thomas Carlyle gave his friendship with a constancy and cordiality somewhat unusual in his case, it was John Forster” (Forbes Gray 271). As an advisor to the publishing firm Chapman and Hall, Forster possessed great authority and influence in literary circles, and, in 1842, he succeeded in adding Carlyle to the publisher's stable of authors (Davis 94, 191–92). Remarkably, three years later, in 1845, Chapman and Hall published a lavish three-volume translation of Sue's Mystères de Paris. Moreover, Forster also served as editor of the Examiner, printing a series of articles by Carlyle during the early months of 1848.Footnote 3 Shortly beforehand, on 11 November 1847, the paper had carried an attack on Sue's novels, entitled “The Literature of the Lower Orders” (Chevasco 90). Being both a friend of Forster and a regular reader of the Examiner at this time, Carlyle would most likely have read the article on Sue.Footnote 4
Both Carlyle and Forster were at this time close acquaintances of Charles Dickens.Footnote 5 Indeed, as Michael Goldberg has shown, Dickens's criticism of sentimental philanthropy in Bleak House (1852–53) was informed by the thought of Carlyle, while Hard Times (1854) was dedicated to the man himself (Carlyle and Dickens 64, 143–145, 78). Alongside his admiration for Carlyle, Dickens also held Eugène Sue in high regard. In October 1845, both Dickens and Sue were invited to a meeting of the Manchester Athenaeum. Unable to attend, Sue charged Dickens with conveying his apologies, and Dickens duly informed the organisers that “M. Eugène Sue has begged me to write to you, and acknowledge with many heartfelt thanks the receipt of your flattering invitation” (17 Oct. 1845, qtd. in Chevasco 156). And, two years later, in the winter of 1847, Dickens and Forster visited Paris, where, as Forster recalled, “we supped . . . with Eugène Sue” (Forster 2: 331). Also worthy of mention is the fact that Dickens and Forster had acquired their letter of introduction to Sue from the Count d'Orsay, another member of Carlyle's circle (Chevasco 156).Footnote 6
Through Forster, Carlyle was also in regular contact with Thackeray, another admirer of Sue and his Mystères de Paris. Between 1842 and 1843, Forster edited the Foreign Quarterly Review (Davis 106–07, 195–96). Carlyle followed the review with much interest, contributing an article on the dictator of Paraguay, “Dr. Francia,” in July 1843.Footnote 7 Three months previously, in April 1843, the Foreign Quarterly had carried an article by Thackeray, entitled “The Thieves Literature of France.” Here, Thackeray wrote of the Mystères de Paris that “though compelled to abuse this book,” he was “obliged honestly to confess that he has read every single word of it, and with the greatest interest too” (qtd. in Chevasco 74–75). Indeed, the following year, in 1844, Thackeray went so far as to begin an English translation of the Mystères (Chevasco 141). Given that Carlyle was in regular contact with Thackeray at this time, it is unlikely that the latter's engagement with Sue would have escaped his attention.Footnote 8
Forster's Foreign Quarterly Review was far from the only English journal to take notice of Sue and the Mystères de Paris. Another organ particularly worthy of mention in this regard was the Athenaeum. As Leslie Marchand has shown, the “most prolific general reviewer of books” for the Athenaeum “was Henry Fothergill Chorley” (181–82). During the 1840s, Chorley took responsibility for recent French fiction, penning reviews of not only Eugène Sue, but also George Sand, Balzac, Paul de Kock, Hugo, and Dumas (Marchand 189–91). Indeed, Chorley had already made the acquaintance of Sue during a trip to Paris in 1836, writing to a friend: “My first introduction has been to Eugène Sue, a fierce black-faced fellow, who looked ready and willing to eat me up” (qtd. in Marchand 190n). In a review of Sue published in the Athenaeum in 1845, Chorley wrote that “even in quiet sober England [his works] are intoxicating middle-aged gentlemen into freaks of enthusiasm” (1 Nov. 1845, qtd. in Chevasco 83). Given that Carlyle was a regular acquaintance of Chorley at this time, it is possible that he himself might have been one of the “middle-aged gentlemen” the latter had in mind.Footnote 9
Another English reviewer of Sue was George Henry Lewes, a neighbour of Carlyle, whom the latter dubbed “the Prince of Journalists” (Haight 189).Footnote 10 In 1844, Lewes contributed an article entitled “Les Mystères de Paris” to the British and Foreign Review.
According to Lewes, Sue's book
has now found its way into thousands of English houses, — thanks to its amazing popularity, thanks also to its almost unparalleled immorality. . . . Its licentiousness, its hideous pictures of civilized depravity, its bald attacks upon existing society and its outrage of existing laws, have all been relished with feverish excitement. (qtd. in Chevasco 78–79)
Clearly, then, in the “English houses” of many of the acquaintances of Carlyle, such as Forster, Dickens, Thackeray, Chorley, and Lewes, Sue's Mystères de Paris was being read with “feverish excitement.”
Moving now from individuals to institutions, one crucial hub for the diffusion of Sue's novels was the London Library, founded on the initiative of Carlyle in 1841, with the support of Forster, Dickens, and Thackeray (see Nowell-Smith). As Atkinson has noted, the “library committee kept a close eye on literary developments across the English Channel,” to such an extent that, as the 1847 catalogue demonstrates, “in only six years, the stock of French novels exploded” (400–01). Moreover, as Atkinson points out, by 1847 the library possessed three different editions of the Mystères de Paris, including the English translation brought out by Carlyle's publisher, Chapman and Hall, in 1845 (400–01). Of the four thousand loans for contemporary French novels issued between 1841 and 1849, five hundred and thirty three were for the works of Sue, the most popular of these being the Mystères de Paris (Atkinson 402).Footnote 11 As the following section will argue, one such borrower seems to have been Carlyle himself.
IV
In a letter of 1840, Carlyle opined that the first purchases of the London Library “ought to be popular, entertaining, what people will read and continue to read” (31 Dec. 1840, Collected Letters 12: 376–78). Indeed, as Atkinson has established, “one of the very first books borrowed [from the London Library] was George Sand's Indiana (1832); it was signed out by Carlyle” (398). Over subsequent years, Carlyle's correspondence bears witness to his mounting enthusiasm for French literature. For instance, by June 1841, Carlyle was even contemplating writing “an Essay on that notable Phenomenon, consisting of George Sand, Abbé Lamennais &c with their writings” (21 June 1841, CL 13: 154). The following month, he reported having “sat all day within doors, reading the scoundrel Balzac” (6 July 1841, CL 13: 168–69). And, in September, Carlyle complained to his wife Jane about his insomnia, adding: “I was not in bed till 1, awake again at 6: an hour or two of George Sand, with the aid of a pipe and patience, brought me on to 9 o'clock again, and plenty of tolerable coffee” (2 Sep. 1841, CL 13: 238–41). During the early 1840s, Carlyle thus seems to have been an avid devourer of recent French novels.
Most importantly, as the borrowing records of the London Library reveal, Carlyle soon moved on to Sue's Mystères de Paris. Having checked the book out for the first time on 9 March 1843, Carlyle borrowed it once again on 3 October 1843, and even for a third time, on 3 October 1844 (Baker 94–95). Over subsequent years, Jane Carlyle continued to borrow French novels from the London Library, using an alias to avoid any impression of impropriety (JWC to Helen Welsh, 18 Jan. 1843, CL 12: 20). Moreover, as her letters to her husband suggest, Sue and his works appear to have remained a frequent reference in the Carlyle household. One such hint featured in a letter of 1845, in which Jane, describing a recent journey, wrote to her husband: “The little man opposite me . . . was absorbed in Eugène Sue's Female Bluebeard” (23 July 1845, CL 19: 105–07). And, two years later, in 1847, Jane once again referred explicitly to Sue, describing an acquiantance as “such a monster as even Dumas and Sue could not have imagined the like of” (28 Sep. 1847, CL 22: 96). In both these cases, Jane must have assumed that Carlyle was sufficiently well-acquainted with Sue's writings to understand such references.
Over subsequent months, Carlyle also took the time to read the novels of George Sand's English imitators, making critical annotations in the margins of George Henry Lewes's Ranthorpe (1847), and arranging, through John Forster, for the publication of Geraldine Jewsbury's The Half Sisters (1848) with Chapman and Hall (Howe 71, 105–06; Kaplan, Thomas Carlyle 332–33).Footnote 12 And, thanks to Fred Kaplan, we now know that during the summer of 1848, Carlyle went so far as to draft an entire essay on recent French novels. Here, Carlyle remarked, no doubt with reference to he and his wife's borrowings from the London Library, that “the Bible of Phallus-Worship is the Circulating-library” (qtd. in Kaplan, “Phallus-Worship” 23).
Finally, the following year, sometime around the middle of 1849, Carlyle made an explicit reference to Sue in conversation. “If Beelzebub,” Carlyle declared, “were to appear in England, he would receive a letter from the Secretary of the Manchester Athenaeum, as Eugène Sue did, requesting the honour of his interesting company” (qtd. in Reid 1: 435).Footnote 13 Around this time, Carlyle was also engaged in researching and composing a Latter-Day Pamphlet on “Model Prisons,” as we shall now see.
V
It was long assumed that the institution referred to in Carlyle's pamphlet was Pentonville Prison. However, as Jules Seigel has shown (81–83), the jail in question was in fact Tothill Fields Prison, which stood at walking distance from Carlyle's home in Chelsea, and to which he paid a visit in February 1849 (CL 23: 223–24). By the end of December 1849, Carlyle had finished drafting a pamphlet entitled “Model Prisons” (see TC to John A. Carlyle, 9 Jan. 1850, CL 25: 1–3).Footnote 14 Thus, the reference to Sue and the Manchester Athenaeum cited above appears to have occurred in between Carlyle's visit to Tothill Fields and the drafting of the pamphlet. Moreover, and perhaps more tellingly, the pamphlet itself contained an explicit reference to “Balzac, Sue and Company” (“Model Prisons” 89). This section will now suggest that in the first part of “Model Prisons,” Carlyle adapted passages from Sue's Mystères de Paris.Footnote 15
As noted above, Sue had deplored the care and attention lavished upon criminals, particularly through model prisons, contrasting this with the lot of the honest, law-abiding artisan, left to fend for himself on the “free” market. In the Mystères de Paris, Sue portrayed a Parisian prison, “La Force.” Seeking to elicit a reaction of shock or disbelief, Sue claimed that prisons were far from being the horrible places the reader might have supposed. He wrote:
Let us enter La Force. There is nothing sombre or repulsive in the aspect of this house of incarceration. . . . A raised ascent, surmounted by a porch covered with trellis-work, in which knotty stalks of the vine entwine, leads to one of the seven or eight walks assigned to the prisoners. (Mysteries 3: 106) Footnote 16
At the beginning of “Model Prisons,” Carlyle employed a very similar technique. Having entered the prison, the reader is confronted by a spectacle at odds with what he or she was expecting. As in the passage from Sue cited above, the entrance of the prison suddenly opens up into a series of spacious passages and walkways. Carlyle wrote:
Several months ago, some friends took me with them to see one of the London Prisons; a Prison of the exemplary or model kind. . . . Gateway as to a fortified place; then a spacious court, like the square of a city; broad staircases, passages to interior courts. (68)
Having entered the prison, Sue and Carlyle then proceed to describe its layout, and the conditions enjoyed by its inmates, in greater detail. Sue wrote:
There are lofty façades of white stone, pierced with high and large windows, which admit of the free circulation of pure air. The stones and pavement of the enclosures are kept excessively clean. On the ground-floor, the large apartments, warmed during the winter, are kept well ventilated during the summer, and are used during the day as places of conversation, work, or for the meals of the prisoners. The upper stories are used as immense dormitories, ten or twelve feet high, with dry and shining floors. (Mysteries 3: 106) Footnote 17
In “Model Prisons,” Carlyle describes:
a spacious court, like the square of a city; broad staircases, passages to interior courts. We looked at the apartments, sleeping-cells, dining-rooms, working-rooms, general courts or special and private: excellent all, the ne-plus-ultra of human care and ingenuity; in my life I never saw so clean a building. . . . The prisoners sat at work, light work, picking oakum, and the like, in airy apartments with glass roofs, of agreeable temperature and perfect ventilation. . .methodic composure, cleanliness, peace, substantial wholesome comfort reigned everywhere supreme. (68)
Here, one might object that the prisons Sue and Carlyle had visited just happened to be constructed similarly, and that any resemblance in the two passages above is thus purely coincidental. This, of course, is entirely plausible. However, if we look more closely, we see that the resemblances are extremely strong, and that there are thus some grounds for supposing that Carlyle was adapting or imitating Sue. First, both passages stress the cleanliness of the prisons. For his part, Sue describes how “the enclosures are kept excessively clean,” while Carlyle remarks that “in my life I never saw so clean a building.” More particularly, both Sue and Carlyle emphasise the cleanliness of the air, Sue describing how the “apartments” are “kept well ventilated,” thus allowing “the free circulation of pure air,” and Carlyle referring to the “perfect ventilation” of the “airy apartments.” In both cases, this has the added advantage of allowing regulation of temperature, Sue explaining how the “apartments” are thus “warmed during the winter” and “well ventilated during the summer,” and Carlyle noting the “agreeable temperature.” Second, both passages stress the spaciousness of the prisons. Sue, for instance, wonders over the “lofty facades,” “large apartments,” and “immense dormitories,” while Carlyle marvels at the “fronts of stately architecture,” the “spacious court,” and the “broad staircases.” More particularly, both Sue and Carlyle remark upon the high ceilings of the prisons, Sue referring to the “immense dormitories, ten or twelve feet high,” and Carlyle to “apartments with glass roofs.” Third, both passages emphasise how well-illuminated the prisons are, Sue drawing attention to the “high and large windows,” Carlyle to the “apartments with glass roofs.” Finally, both Sue and Carlyle stress that such conditions provide the prisoners with a perfect environment in which to sleep, undertake light work, and eat. For his part, Sue itemizes the “dormitories,” and the “apartments. . .used. . .[for] work, or for meals of the prisoners,” while Carlyle notes the “sleeping-rooms,” “working-rooms,” and “dining rooms.” In sum, for both Sue and Carlyle, the defining features of the prisons are cleanliness, spaciousness, light, and comfort.
Having described the prisons, Sue and Carlyle then immediately juxtapose them with their surroundings, namely working-class quarters, inhabited by “free” artisans. If the distinguishing characteristics of the prisons were cleanliness, spaciousness, light, and comfort, then those of the surrounding areas are filth, crampedness, darkness, and distress. In the Mystères de Paris, Sue wrote:
At the sight of these establishments, comprising all the requisites for comfort and health, we are much surprised, in spite of ourselves; being accustomed to suppose that prisons are miserable, dirty, unwholesome, and dark. This is a mistake. It is such dogholes as that occupied by Morel the lapidary, and in which so many poor and honest workmen languish in exhaustion, compelled to give up their truckle-bed to a sick wife, and to leave, with hopeless despair, their wretched, famishing children, shuddering with cold in their infected straw – that is miserable, dark, dirty, and pestilent! (3: 107)Footnote 18
In “Model Prisons,” Carlyle employed the same technique, writing:
all round this beautiful Establishment, or Oasis of Purity, intended for the Devil's regiments of the line, lay continents of dingy poor and dirty dwellings, where the unfortunate not yet enlisted into that Force were struggling manifoldly, — in their workshops, in their marble-yards and timber-yards and tan-yards, in their close cellars, cobbler-stalls, hungry garrets, and poor dark trade-shops with red-herrings and tobacco-pipes crossed in the window, — to keep the Devil out-of-doors, and not enlist with him. (72)
To summarise, Sue has “dirty,” “dogholes,” “dark,” and “poor,” whereas Carlyle has “dirty,” “close cellars,” “dark,” and “poor.” Moreover, in both cases, the sudden juxtaposition of the prison with its surroundings serves to excite the indignation of the reader, and, at the same time, his or her sympathy for the honest, law-abiding artisans.
Subsequently, both Sue and Carlyle return to the interior of the prisons, now focusing on the prisoners themselves. In both cases, it is claimed that the moral depravity of the prisoners manifests itself physiologically, to such an extent that the prisoners appear more animal than human. Sue wrote:
It requires the pencil of Salvator or Goya in order to sketch the different specimens of physical and moral ugliness. . . . A phrenologist would have observed attentively those embrowned and weather-beaten countenances, those flat or narrow foreheads, those cruel or crafty looks, the wicked or stupid mouth, the enormous neck – they nearly all presented frightful resemblances to brutes. In the cunning looks of one was seen the perfidious subtlety of the fox, in another was the sanguinary rapacity of the bird of prey, in a third the ferocity of the tiger; and, in all, the animal stupidity of the brute. (Mysteries 3: 163–64)Footnote 19
Carlyle's menagerie was no less sinister. He declaimed:
Miserable distorted blockheads, the generality; ape-faces, imp-faces, angry dog-faces, heavy sullen ox-faces; degraded underfoot perverse creatures, sons of indocility, greedy mutinous darkness, and in one word, of STUPIDITY, which is the general mother of such. Stupidity intellectual and stupidity moral. . .had borne this progeny. (70)
Of course, such descriptions of prisoners, and particularly the technique of comparing them to animals, were commonplace during this period, being something of a trope (see Wiener 26–37). However, if we look closely at the two passages, we see that their resemblances go beyond the merely coincidental, and that there is good reason to believe that Carlyle was imitating Sue. First, both Sue and Carlyle repeatedly emphasise the “stupidity” of the inmates. Second, they both imply that the moral depravity of the prisoners expresses itself physically. For his part, Sue refers to their “physical and moral ugliness,” while Carlyle links their “moral” “stupidity” to their “distorted” “faces.” Third, both Sue and Carlyle bestialize the prisoners, although, admittedly, the specific animals are not the same. Where Sue opts for a “fox,” a “bird of prey,” and a “tiger,” Carlyle chooses an “ape,” a “dog,” and an “ox.” Fourth, and finally, both passages seem to draw upon phrenology, Sue claiming that a “phrenologist” would have “observed attentively” the “flat or narrow foreheads,” and Carlyle referring to “distorted blockheads.”
Elsewhere in the Mystères, Sue suggested that the time, money, and effort that went into maintaining prisons for criminals might instead be dedicated to improving the condition of the honest working classes, particularly through a state-led “Organisation of Labour.” He asked rhetorically:
how many artisans of irreproachable honesty would attain the summit of their wishes if they were assured of enjoying one day the bodily comforts of prisoners, — always certain of good food, good bed, and good shelter? And yet, in the name of their dignity as honest men, long and painfully tried, have they not a right to claim the same care and comforts as criminals – such, for instance, as Morel the lapidary, who had toiled for twenty years, industrious, honest, and resigned, in the midst of bitter misery and sore temptations?. . .Suppose, for a moment, a society were so organized, that it would hold an assizes of virtue, as we have assizes of crime – a public ministry pointing out noble actions, disclosing them to the view of all, as we now denounce crimes to the avenging power of the laws. . . . Would it not be otherwise if almost every day the people had before their eyes some illustrious virtues greatly glorified and SUBSTANTIALLY rewarded by the STATE? (Mysteries 2: 234–35)Footnote 20
In “Model Prisons,” Carlyle made fundamentally the same point. Advocating a similar redirection of philanthropic energies, he exclaimed:
If I had a commonwealth to reform or to govern, certainly it should not be the Devil's regiments of the line that I would first of all concentrate my attention on!. . .Yonder, in those dingy habitations, and shops of red herring and tobacco-pipes, where men have not yet quite declared for the Devil; there, I say, is land: here is mere sea-beach. Thither go with your benevolence, thither to those dingy caverns of the poor; and there instruct and drill and manage, there where some fruit may come from it. . . . The materials of human virtue are everywhere abundant as the light of the sun: raw materials, — O woe, and loss, and scandal thrice and threefold, that they so seldom are elaborated, and built into a result! (73, 75, 77)
In both passages, the public authority is charged with responsibility, Sue referring to “the STATE,” and Carlyle to the “commonwealth.” Second, both authors stress the need for quasi-military organisation, Sue arguing that “society” ought to be “organized,” and Carlyle stating that the task is to “drill and manage.” Third, both Sue and Carlyle imply that the aim ought not only to be improvement of material conditions, but also of morality, Sue referring to “an assizes of virtue,” and Carlyle calling for the “raw materials” of “human virtue” to be “elaborated.” And, finally, having already made extensive use of the imagery of light and dark in the passages cited above, both Sue and Carlyle then liken the Organisation of Labour unto an illumination, Sue calling for “illustrious virtues” to be “greatly glorified,” and Carlyle referring to “the light of the sun.”
VI
The above passages of Carlyle's “Model Prisons” have frequently been criticised, at least by recent commentators, for their negativity, vehemence, and downright rage. For instance, Ian Campbell remarks that “to dismiss the inhabitants of the prisons as ‘thriftless sweepings of Creation,’ let alone ‘Devil's regiments,’ is not the most constructive of attitudes” (121).Footnote 21 According to Albert LaValley, the Latter-Day Pamphlets were an exercise in negativity, “a mixture of desperation, menace, hopelessness, and fascistic command . . . a final distortion of all the positive elements in Carlyle's political vision” (279–80). Similarly, for Le Quesne, the “general effect” of the Pamphlets was “overwhelmingly, very powerfully, and almost nihilistically negative” (79–80). However, we might do well to heed the recent warning of John Morrow, to the effect that the “illiberal tone and bearing of these pamphlets might tend to distract attention from their radicalism” (151). In contrast to the critical opinion cited above, this final section will put forward a very different interpretation, arguing that, as in the case of Sue, the supposed “negativity” of the Pamphlets in fact served a highly positive purpose, namely, to lend weight to calls for an “Organisation of Labour,” intended to benefit the honest working classes.
More specifically, the current section will also suggest that many contemporary socialists were far less squeamish than those recent commentators cited above, largely endorsing Carlyle's contemptuous attitude towards criminals, while also grasping the more positive intentions of his pamphlet. As we shall see, such recognition was particularly present in Owenite and Chartist periodicals. Indeed, this rather calls into question Michael Goldberg's claim that the Pamphlets were met with “general inattention . . . by the Chartist and radical press” (“Universal” 131–32), and also Le Quesne's assertion that they “marked the point of final alienation between Carlyle and every shade of liberal and radical opinion” (55, 79–80). Furthermore, as the current section will also demonstrate, those journals which responded favourably to Carlyle also responded positively to Sue, thus providing further confirmation for Chevasco's thesis that during these years, Sue's reputation in Britain “took on a decidedly political rather than simply literary character” (155).Footnote 22
As has already been noted (see section II above), Sue's Mystères de Paris had been influenced by the ideas of the Saint-Simonians, including that of an “Organisation of Labour.” As is fairly well-known, Carlyle too had responded positively to the overtures of Saint-Simonian “missionaries” during the early 1830s (Cofer; Shine; Pankhurst; Fielding).Footnote 23 Following the outbreak of the 1848 revolution, Carlyle again began to take great interest in the writings of French social reformers, most notably those of Louis Blanc, the author of an influential treatise entitled L'Organisation du travail (1839) (Carlyle to Blanc, 28 Mar. 1849, CL 23: 261; also Heyrendt). And, in the Latter-Day Pamphlet that appeared immediately prior to “Model Prisons,” “The Present Time” (1 Feb. 1850), Carlyle had declared that “the ‘Organization of Labour’ . . . is the universal vital Problem of the world” (55).Footnote 24 Thus, as had been the case with Sue and the Mystères, Carlyle's attack on model prisons was intended to reinforce his calls for a (broadly Saint-Simonian) “Organisation of Labour.” In brief, the energy squandered upon the former ought to be transferred to the latter, where it would be more profitably employed.Footnote 25
Following the outbreak of the 1848 revolution, French ideas regarding the “Organisation of Labour” also became increasingly popular within the Owenite movement in Britain (Claeys 268–72; Finn 68–92; Proietti 16–18). Given that Sue was one of the most prominent advocates of such ideas, it is perhaps unsurprising that he received a favourable hearing amongst the Owenites. In December 1849, the Owenite Weekly Tribune announced “that on next Saturday we shall commence the publication of a new and most interesting novel by Eugène Sue, entitled ‘The Mysteries of the People’.” “This work,” the reviewer continued, “is written to explain the history of labour and the sufferings of the poor” (15 Dec. 1849: 170). And, early the following year, the paper recommended to its readers “E. Sue, one of the most talented, popular, and entertaining writers in favour of Socialism” (27 Apr. 1850: 4).
Remarkably, the Weekly Tribune also responded positively to the passages of Carlyle's pamphlet cited above, agreeing that the “Organisation of Labour” ought to take precedence over “model prisons.” In March 1850, the journal called for
improved arrangements for mentally and morally cultivating, and materially providing for, the whole of the members of society – so that myriads of human creatures, with their sublime and wonderful faculties for knowing and loving, may not (as Carlyle has it) be driven to list in “the Devil's regiment of the line;” becoming distorted blockheads, with “ape-faces, imp-faces, angry dog-faces, heavy sullen ox-faces, degraded underfoot, perverse wretches” (9 Mar. 1850: 4).
The following month, in April 1850, the Weekly Tribune once again cited directly from “Thomas Carlyle,” adding some no less vehement words of its own. “These ‘devil's regiments of the line’,” the journal wrote, “must be grappled with and subdued. We can neither tolerate the pickpocket, the burglar, or the murderer. It is quite clear that if we tolerate them, they will not tolerate us.” Having condemned the “benevolent weakness” that lay behind model prisons, the journal concluded: “Society breeds thieves and murderers as a putrid carcass breeds maggots; let society purify itself by justice and more humane dealings” (6 Apr. 1850: 4).
The Chartist press was similarly positive in its responses to Sue and Carlyle, and particularly their ideas regarding the ‘Organisation of Labour’.Footnote 26 As Paul Thomas Murphy has noted, so far as fiction was concerned, “Chartist editors showed a marked preference for French authors” (92–94). In 1845, the Chartist Northern Star had reviewed and excerpted at least four different works by Sue, claiming that the Mystères de Paris alone stood as proof of the “sterling” quality of his writing (25 Jan. 1845, 4 Jan. 1845, qtd. in Murphy 92–94). In particular, the reviewer claimed, Sue described “in touching, nay, even sublime simplicity, the sufferings of the industrious poor” (29 Mar. 1845, qtd. in Murphy 92–94). Following the election of Sue to the National Assembly, the Northern Star reported a Chartist meeting that took place on the 7 May 1850. Here, a letter from the radical journalist G. W. M. Reynolds was read out, in which Reynolds apologised for not being present to celebrate “the glorious triumph of our principles in France, in the election of Eugène Sue” (11 May 1850: 8).Footnote 27
Having responded positively to Sue and his Mystères, the Northern Star also responded positively to Carlyle, and particularly to his condemnation of criminals. In October 1850, the journal wrote: “‘Supply-and-demand,’ says THOMAS CARLYLE, in his own quaint and forcible style, ‘is not the one Law of Nature; Cash payment is not the sole means of man with man’” (26 Oct. 1850: 3). It then continued:
In a world where it is believed that life is merely a scramble, in which the strong and the cunning are sure to succeed best, and where there is no amenability to any eternal or ever-acting law of justice and retribution, what is there to restrain the unlicensed thieves from plying their vocation? . . . Society breeds these vermin, and they, in turn, fatten upon the corruption out of which they are generated.
Clearly, in its bestialization of the criminal classes (“vermin”), this language was no less ferocious than that employed by Carlyle in his “Model Prisons” (“ape-faces,” “angry dog-faces, heavy sullen ox-faces”). However, like Carlyle, the Northern Star also proposed positive solutions, notably the “introduction of measures that would enable every child to be industriously trained to earn his own honest living.” Anticipating objections, the article warned that continuing to indulge “thieves,” whilst refusing to carry out an Organisation of Labour for honest workers, would soon come back to haunt the middle classes. It declared:
“Impracticable,” you say? . . . Having forsworn allegiance to nature, your footsteps are, as CARLYLE says, waited upon by “Perpetual mutiny, contention, hatred, isolation, execration.” From that Pandemonium there is no escape . . . No “police” can help you!
In sum, both Owenites and Chartists seem to have endorsed Sue and Carlyle's condemnations of criminals, and the model prisons that catered to them. In contrast to those more recent critics cited above, the Owenites and Chartists also grasped that the “negativity” of Sue and Carlyle in this regard was the other side of the coin to their “positive” proposals, namely, for the “Organisation of Labour.”
VII
According to Fred Kaplan, Carlyle's engagement with French literature was purely literary, rather than “political” (“Phallus-Worship” 23, 20). In contrast, the foregoing analysis has attempted to show that, at least in the case of Sue, there was indeed a “political” aspect. Most notably, in Sue's Mystères de Paris, Carlyle would have found many of the same ideas he had already found and appreciated in the Saint-Simonians and Louis Blanc, particularly regarding the “Organisation of Labour.” Moreover, in adapting ideas from French socialists, Carlyle also met with a positive response from many British socialists, as the above analysis has indicated. Of course, the question of Carlyle's place in early French and British socialism is a complex and controversial subject, into which this short article has offered but the merest aperçu. However, in closing, it might be suggested that the issue merits more comprehensive and imaginative treatment than it has hitherto received.Footnote 28
