obligations, in which service was given in return
for protection. The vassal did homage to his
lord—became his homme or man—and
his lord was bound to take care of him. In theory,
at least, every serf was entitled to a living.
In theory, too, the Church embraced all Christendom.
None save Jews were outside it or could get outside
it, except by excommunication; which was the most
terrible of penalties, because it cut a man off from
all spiritual human fellowship. The same principle
of co-operation prevailed in mediaeval industry and
commerce, organised into guilds of craftsmen and trading
corporations, which fixed the prices and quality of
goods, the number of apprentices allowed, etc.
The manufacturer was not a capitalist, but simply
a master workman. Government was paternal and
interfered continually with the freedom of contract
and the rights of the individual. Here was where
Carlyle took issue with modern Liberalism, which proclaims
that the best government is that which governs least.
According to the laissez-faire doctrine, he
said, the work of a government is not that of a father,
but of an active parish constable. The duty of
a government is to govern, but this theory makes it
its duty to refrain from governing. Not liberty
is good for men, but obedience and stern discipline
under wise rulers, heroes, and heaven-sent kings.
Carlyle took no romantic view of the Middle Ages.
He is rather contemptuous of Scott’s mediaeval-picturesque,[35]
and his Scotch Calvinism burns fiercely against the
would-be restorers of mediaeval religious formularies
and the mummeries of “the old Pope of Rome”—a
ghastly survival of a dead creed.[36] He said that
Newman had the brain of a good-sized rabbit.
But in this matter of collectivism versus individualism,
Carlyle was with the Middle Ages. “For
those were rugged, stalwart ages. . . . Gurth,
born thrall of Cedric, it is like, got cuffs as often
as pork-parings; but Gurth did belong to Cedric; no
human creature then went about connected with nobody;
left to go his way into Bastilles or worse, under
Laissez-faire. . . . That Feudal Aristocracy,
I say, was no imaginary one. . . . It was a Land
Aristocracy; it managed the Governing of this English
People, and had the reaping of the Soil of England
in return. . . . Soldiering, Police and Judging,
Church-Extension, nay, real Government and Guidance,
all this was actually done by the Holders of
Land in return for their Land. How much of it
is now done by them; done by anybody? Good Heavens!
‘Laissez faire, Do ye nothing, eat your
wages and sleep,’ is everywhere the passionate
half-wise cry of this time.” [37]