And we may easily fail in expressing the general objection
which we feel. It appears to us as a certain disproportion in the
picture, caused by the obtrusion of the whims of the painter. In
this work, as in his former labors, Mr. Carlyle reminds us of a sick
giant. His humors, are expressed with so much force of constitution,
that his fancies are more attractive and more credible than the
sanity of duller men. But the habitual exaggeration of the tone
wearies whilst it stimulates. It is felt to be so much deduction
from the universality of the picture. It is not serene sunshine, but
everything is seen in lurid stormlights. Every object attitudinizes,
to the very mountains and stars almost, under the refractions of this
wonderful humorist, and instead of the common earth and sky, we have
a Martin's Creation or Judgment Day. A crisis has always arrived
which requires a _deus ex machina_. One can hardly credit, whilst
under the spell of this magician, that the world always had the same
bankrupt look, to foregoing ages as to us, -- as of a failed world
just recollecting its old withered forces to begin again and try and
do a little business.
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