goo

Dennis, The Advancement and Reformation of Modern Poetry, ch. 7

ジョン・デニス
『現代詩の発展と改革:批評論文』より
第7章
詩における狂乱状態の原因:実例

詩における狂乱状態とは、上に見たような驚嘆・称賛と憧れ、喜び、恐怖、愕然などという激情に他ならない。それらは、自然にそれらをもたらすような思考によってひきおこされる。憧れ・称賛とは、偉大なことを頭に思い描いた時に魂を高揚させる自尊の念とともに、心を高ぶらせる。喜びが大きい時、人は我を忘れる。言葉を失うほどの驚きは、ある種の興奮状態をもたらす。以下、どうしてそうなるのか、例を見ていこう。まずはホラティウスのオード3.3からである。

(引用略)

内容は以下のとおりである。

勇敢な男が正しいことをすると固く心に決めている。彼の美徳は揺るがない。馬鹿な群衆がわめき暴れて押し寄せてきても、暴君ににらまれても、嵐に荒れるアドリア海を支配する南風が怒り狂ってやかましく襲ってきても、ユピテルの燃える右腕から雷が投げつけられても。そう、この世界の骨組みがばらばらに脱臼しておぞましい音とともに爆速で落ちてきて彼をつぶすことはあるかもしれないが、それでも彼の心が揺らぐことは絶対にない。--そんな原文から大きな狂乱状態が伝わることは言うまでもないが、この狂乱がどのようなものか、少し考えてみる。するとわかるのは、上の詩には高揚感と厳格さと激烈さ、つまりは驚嘆と称賛、そして憧れに足る何かがあることだ。この詩は言葉を失うほど恐ろしい。このような激情をわたしたちが感じるのはなぜか。もちろん、そこで語られる思考の内容そのものが、然るべき言葉によってあらわされたなら、言わば自然に激情をもたらすからである。上に見てきたように、偉大なものが驚嘆・称賛と憧れをもたらす。強いものに傷つけられそうな時に人は恐怖を抱く。人が驚き、愕然として言葉を失うのは、非常に恐ろしいものが襲ってきた時である。これらのものそのものが、あるいはそれについて考えた時に、激情が生まれるのである。上の詩をよく読めば、そこで思考されている内容が偉大で、恐ろしく、そして部分的に驚愕すべきものであることがわかるだろう。

が、さらに三つの点に注意してほしい。まず、上の詩においては、思考が見事に段階的に上昇している。ホラティウスは恐ろしいものからより恐ろしいものへとのぼっていき、そして最後に愕然と言葉を失う。荒れ狂う群集、目で脅す暴君、嵐の海、ユピテルの怒りをあらわす雷、そしてこの世すべての破滅・崩壊を彼は順に描く。第二に、思考が上昇するにしたがい、詩人の心も高ぶっていっている。やはり激情は思考によってもたらされるのである。三つめ、暴君に関する第二の思考以降さらに狂乱の度を高めるにあたり、ホラティウスは神にふれている。むしろ、そうせざるをえない。古代ローマ思想について最低限の知識があれば、嵐・海・雷に宗教的な意味があることは明らかなはずである。

次に、読者に思い浮かべていただこう。これはただ「大きい」ことによって心動かす、心を高ぶらせるイメージ、つまり絵である。ミルトンの『楽園喪失』第1巻は、ルシファーについてこう記述する。

……他の者たちより彼は
大きく、誇り高く、上から
塔のように見下ろしていた。まだその姿は
天にいた時の光を完全に失ってはおらず、
堕ちた大天使にふさわしい陰のある輝きを
放っていた。たとえるなら、それは、太陽が
霧の地平線から昇りつつ、
あるいは雲の後ろで、
蝕のようにぼんやりと、禍(わざわい)を告げる
薄明を半球上の国々に投げかけ、王たちに革命の恐れを
抱かせているかのようであった。こうして高く暗く、
この大天使は輝いていた。彼の顔には、
雷によって刻まれた傷跡が深く、いく筋も走っていた。

この10数行とその直前の10行を比べて考えていただきたい。なぜこちらのほうがはるかに偉大に感じられるのか。それはもちろん、描かれている内容の規模が大きいからである。だが、なぜ内容の大きさが詩の偉大さにつながるのか。もちろん、大きいものが詩人に驚きと称賛の念を与え、気高く誇り高い気持ちにさせるからである。それが詩の偉大さとなってあらわれるのである。それは支配的な威厳であり、強く激しく、言わば暴力的に心を揺さぶる。描かれている内容の規模が大きく、同時にとても恐ろしいからである。心を押しつぶすほどの激情とはある種の暴力であり、それが痛いほど強い言葉になってあらわれるのである。そのように気高い主題のなか、神に関係するものがもっとも偉大であることは言うまでもない。

(つづく)

*****
John Dennis (1657-1734)
From The Advancement and Reformation of Modern Poetry:
A Critical Discourse.
Ch. 7
The Causes of Poetical Enthusiasm, shewn by Examples

The Enthusiasm that is found in Poetry, is nothing but the forementioned passions, Admiration, Joy, Terror, Astonishment, flowing from the thoughts which naturally produce them. For Admiration, together with that Pride which exalts the soul at the conceiving a great Hint, gives elevation; Joy, if 'tis great, gives transport, and astonishment gives vehemence. But now let us shew by examples, how this was done, and let us begin with that Admirable Ode of Horace, which is the third of the Third Book.

Justum & Tenacem propositi virum,
Non civium ardor prava Jubentium,
Non vultus instantis Tyranni
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster
Dux Inquieti Turbidus Adriae;
Nec fulmin antis magna Jovis manus,
Se fractus Illabatur Orbis
Impavidum ferient Ruinae.

That is,

The man, the brave man, who is resolv'd upon a right and a firm principle, is sure never to have his solid vertue shaken, neither by the rage of the giddy multitude, nor by the frowns of an insulting Tyrant, nor by the Fury of the Roaring South, that Turbulent Ruler of the Tempestuous Adria; no, nor by the Red Right Hand of Thundring Jove: Nay, should the World's disjointed Frame come rushing down with a Dismal Sound upon him, its Ruines might Crush, but they could never Shake him. Now 'tis plain that in the original there is a great deal of Enthusiasm. But let us observe a little what this Enthusiasm is. Upon observation we shall find then, that in the fore-mentioned Verses there is Elevation, Severity and Vehemence, and consequently there is something Admirable in them, and Terrible and Astonishing. Now why should we feel these passions in reading these thoughts, unless the passions naturally attend them, when they are express'd as they should be? But Admiration, as we have said above, must come from something that is great, and Terror from something that is powerful, and likely to hurt; and Astonishment from something that is very Terrible, and very likely to hurt; that is, from things that are so, or from their Idea's. The Reader, upon examining the fore-mention'd Verses, will find that the thoughts in them all are great and terrible, and some of them are astonishing.

But here I desire the Reader to observe three things: First, the admirable gradation of Thought here. How the Poet rises from something that is Terrible, to something that is more Terrible, till he comes at last to something Astonishing and Amazing. How from the Rage of the Mad Multitude, he proceeds to the frowns of a Tyrant that stands threatning by: How he rises from thence to a storm at Sea, and from thence to the wrath of Jove express'd in the dreadful Thunder, and from thence to the final dismal Dissolution of all things. The next thing that I desire him to observe is, How the Spirit of the Poet rises with his Thoughts, which is a sure sign, that the one is nothing but the passions that attend on the other. And the third thing that the Reader is to remark is, that the Poet could not carry his Enthusiasm higher after the second thought, without having recourse to Religion. For he who knows any thing of the Pagan system, knows that the three last thoughts are taken from their Religion.

Let us now set before the Reader an Image, that only by its greatness will move him and exalt him. The passage is in the first Book of Milton's Paradice Lost, where he thus describes Lucifer.

-------------------- He above the rest,
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a Towr, his form had yet not lost
All her original Brightness, nor appear'd
Less than Archangel ruin'd, and th' excess
Of Glory obscur'd, as when the Sun new risn
Looks thro the Horizontal misty Air,
Shorn of his Beams, or from behind a Cloud,
In dim Eclipse Disastrous Twilight sheds
On half the Nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes Monarchs; Darkned so yet shone
Above them all th' Archangel, but his Face
Deep Scars of Thunder had Intrench'd.

I desire the Reader would give himself the trouble of comparing these ten lines, with the ten that preceded them, and then to tell me, why the Spirit should be so much greater in these than it is in the others; unless it proceeded from the greatness of the Ideas, or how the greatness of the Ideas could cause it, but by infusing into the Poet admiration and a noble pride, which express'd make the Spirit, which is stately and majestick till the last, and then it grows vehement, because the Idea which causes it, is not only great, but very Terrible. For all the afflicting Passions that are violent are express'd with vehemence. The Reader cannot but observe of himself, that the greatest of these noble Ideas is taken from Religion.

-------------------- But his Face
Deep Scars of Thunder had Intrench'd.

Now let us consider two very masterly Images, out of the Second Book of Virgil; the first is the Hewing down of a Tree, which appear'd so admirable to Julius Scaliger, that he affirm'd that Jupiter could never have mended it; and the second gave occasion for that Incomparable Statue of Laocoon, which I saw at Rome, in the Gardens of Beluidere, and which is so astonishing, that it does not appear to be the work of Art, but the miserable Creature himself, like Niobe benumm'd and petrify'd with grief and horror.

The first, besides its Greatness, carries Terror along with it. Virgil compares the Destruction of Troy, which had been ten years besieg'd, to the fall of a Mountain Ash, at whose Root the labouring Swains had been a long time hewing with their Axes.

Ac veluti summis antiquam in montibus ornum,
Cum ferro accisam, crebrisque bipennibus instant.
Eruere Agricolae certatim, illa usque minatur.
Et Tremefacta Comam concusso vertice nutat,
Volneribus Donec Paulatim evicta, supremum
Congemuit, traxitque Jugis avolsa ruinam.

And as when sturdy Swains, with frequent strokes,
Hewing with all their stretcht out arms, let drive
At the firm Root of some aspiring Oak,
Which long the Glory of the Mountain stood,
That ev'ry moment formidably nods,
And shakes the lofty glories of its crown,
Till broken by repeated wounds at last,
Down it comes rushing with a fatal groan,
And tears the Earth, and rends the solid Rock,
And still is Dreadful in its hideous fall.

Now here I desire the Reader to consider, how the Poet raises his Spirit as soon as he sets his Image in motion, and brings in Terror to his relief.

-------------------Illa usque minatur,
Et tremefacta comam, concusso vertice mutat.

For all the passions, when they are very great, carry Fury along with them, and all the afflicting passions, together with Fury, carry Vehemence and Severity. And the Poet hereby setting his Image in motion, had set it before his eyes, and so made it the more terrible. Let us now consider that of Laocoon.

Laocoon Ductus Neptuno sorte Sacerdos,
Sollennes Taurum Ingentem mactabat ad aras,
Ecce autem gemini, a Tenedo, Tranquilla per alta
(Horresco referens) Immensis Orbibus Angues
Incumbunt pelago, pariterque ad littera tendunt:
Pectora quorum inter fluctus arrecta, Jubaeque
Sanguineae exuperant undas, pars cetera Pontum
Pone legit, sinuantque Immensa volumine Terga.
Fit Sonitus, spumante salo, Jamque arva tenebant.
Ardentesque Oculos Suffecti Sanguine & igni,
Sibila Lambebant linguis vibrantibus ora.
Diffugimus visu exangues, illi agmine certo
Laocoonta petunt, & primum parva Duorum
Corpora natorum Serpens anplexus uterque

Implicat, & miseros morsu Depascitur artus,
Post Ipsum auxilio Subeuntem, ac Tela ferentem
Corripiunt, spirisque ligant ingentibus, & Jam
Bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum
Terga Dati, superant capite & ceraicibus altis.
Ille simul manibus tendit divellere nodos,
Perfusus sanie vitas atroque veneno.
Clamores simul Horrendos ad Sydera tollit.
Quales Mugitus, fugit cum saucius aram
Taurns & incertam excussit cervice secarim.
Which in English Blank Verse runs thus,

Laocoon, now Great Neptune's Priest, by Lot,
The solemn Sacrifice a mighty Bull
Prepar'd to slay; when lo from Tenedos
Two huge Twin Serpents of prodigious size,
(A shivering horror chills all my life blood
At the bare thought and freezes ev'ry Nerve)
Their monstrous folds incumbent on the Main,
With equal haste come rowling tow'rds the Shore.
Their spotty Breasts erect above the Waves,
And bloody Crests, look fearful to the eye.
Their other parts come winding through the flood
In many a waving spire; the Sea resounds,
While with the Scaly horrors of their Tayls
They swinge the foaming brine.
And now they land, now dart their flaming Eyes,
Distain'd with Blood, and streaming all with fire.
We, pale and bloodless at the dismal sight,
All in a moment trembling disappear.
They to the Priest direct their flaming way,
And of his little Sons each seizing one,
Around their Limbs they twine their snaky Spires.
And on their little trembling Joynts they feed:
A dismal Feast; and while their wretched Sire
With piercing shrieks comes rushing to their aid,
At him with Fury both at once they dart,
And clasping him with their vast pois'nous folds,
Twice round his Waste they twist, and twice his Neck;
And stretching o're his Head, their dismal Head
And lofty Crests, upon the dying wretch
They dreadfully look down: He all in vain
With all his might his brawny Muscles strains,
And stretches his extended arms, to tear
The pois'nous and inextricable folds,
And from their entrails squeezes horrid gore.
And now tormented, hideously he roars,
And stamping, stares from his distracted eyes.
Thus madly bounds about the impetuous Bull,
When from his wound he shakes th' uncertain Axe,
And Bellowing, from the Bloody Altar broke.

And now here we find a deal of Enthusiasm; which is nothing but the elevation, and vehemence and fury proceeding from the Great and Terrible and Horrible Ideas. For the Poet setting his Image in so much motion, and expressing it with so much action, his inflam'd Imagination set it before his very eyes, so that he participated of the Danger which he describ'd, was shaken by the Terror, and shiver'd with the Horror. And what is it but the expression of the passions he felt, that moves the Reader in such an extraordinary manner. But here let us observe how the Spirit of the Poet rises, as the Danger comes nearer, and the Terror grows upon him.

----- Jamque aroa tenebint
Ardentesque oculos, &c.
And now they land, &c.

Let us consider beside what prodigious force all this must have in the connexion, where Religion adds to the Terror, encreases the Astonishment, and augments the Horror. For 'twas by the direction of Minerva that this Terrible Incident was brought about, who had combin'd with Juno to destroy the Trojans, as has been at large declar'd in a former Critical Treatise. And thus we have endeavour'd to shew how the Enthusiasm proceeds from the thoughts, and consequently from the subject. But one thing we have omitted, that as thoughts produce the spirit, the spirit produces and makes the expression; which is known by experience to all who are Poets; for never any one, while he was wrapt with Enthusiasm, wanted either Words or Harmony; and is selfevident to all who consider, that the Expression conveys and shows the Spirit, and therefore must be produced by it. So that from what we have said we may venture to lay down this Definition of Poetical Genius. Poetical Genius in a Poem is the true expressions of Ordinary or Enthusiastick Passion, proceeding from Ideas, to which it naturally belongs; and Poetical Genius in a Poet, is the power of expressing such Passion worthily: And the sublime is a great thought exprest with the Enthusiasm that belongs to it, which the Reader will find Agreeable to the Doctrine of Cecilius. Longinus, I must confess, has not told us what the sublime is; because Cecilius, it seems, had done that before him. Tho methinks, it was a very great fault in so great a Man as Longinus, to write a Book which could not be understood, but by another Mans Writings; especially when he saw that those Writings were so very defective, that they were not likely to last. But tho Longinus does not directly tell us, what the Sublime is, yet in the first six or seven Chapters of his Book, he takes a great deal of pains to set before us, the effects which it produces in the minds of Men; as, for example, that it causes in them admiration and surprize; a noble Pride, and a noble Vigour, an invincible force transporting the Soul from its ordinary Situation, and a Transport, and a fulness of Joy mingled with Astonishment. These are the effects that Longinus tells us that the Sublime produces in the minds of men. Now I have endeavour'd to shew what it is in Poetry that works these effects. So that take the Cause and the Effects together, and you have the Sublime.

https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/ecco/004890743.0001.000
適宜修正

*****
学生の方など、自分の研究/発表のために上記を
参照する際には、このサイトの作者、タイトル、URL,
閲覧日など必要な事項を必ず記し、剽窃行為のないように
してください。

ウェブ上での引用などでしたら、リンクなどのみで
かまいません。

商用、盗用、悪用などないようお願いします。


コメント ( 0 ) | Trackback (  )

Dennis, The Advancement and Reformation of Modern Poetry, ch. 6

ジョン・デニス
『現代詩の発展と改革:批評論文』より
第6章
激情は世俗の主題より神聖な主題によって生じることが多い

上記のとおり、詩にとって激情がもっとも重要であること、詩の命・本質、つまりそこに息づいているものは激情に他ならないことを明らかにした。詩を詩たらしめるものが激情であれば、当然、偉大な詩を偉大たらしめるのは偉大な激情である。詩における激情には二種類あり、ひとつがふつうの激情でもうひとつが何かに憑かれたような狂乱状態であることも上に見た。今度はさらに進み、神に関係する詩のほうが世俗の詩よりも激情を生じさせることを理解してもらいたい。具体的には以下のふたつの点、激情は神聖な主題・世俗の主題のいずれからも同様に生じること、狂乱状態に至る激情は神聖な主題から生じることが多いこと、について見ていこう。

最初の点は経験から明らかである。以下に見るように神聖な主題を扱う古代の詩は、同じく古代の世俗の詩がもちうる以上の大きさのふつうの激情をもつ。

考えなくてはならないのは、宗教の主題が世俗の主題よりも頻繁に、そしてより強い狂乱状態をわたしたちのうちに生じさせうる、ということである。これを明らかにするために、詩によって生じる狂乱がどのようなものかまず考えよう。詩における狂乱とは、その原因がわからない時に思考がたどりつく激情である。それが激情であることは言うまでもない。人の心を動かすからである。原因不明ということもいいだろう。が、同時にそれが思考とともにあることも疑いようがない。そうでなければ、それはただの狂気であって詩にともなう激情ではないからだ。

いずれにせよ、詩における狂乱がどのようにおこるのか、という未解決の問題について考えてみよう。狂乱のなか心が動くのは明らかである。であれば、狂乱状態ゆえに作品を書く者の心が動いたということになる。このようなことがおこるのは、もちろん、その人が何か考えている時である。考えている時に心を動かすものとは何か。頭のなかの思い以外にありえない。つまり、ふつうの激情と同様、狂乱とは必然的に思考によってもたらされるものである。理性ある存在のすべての激情が間違いなくそうであるように。にもかかわらず狂乱に至る激情およびふつうの激情の原因がわからないのは、それらが日常的ではないから、またそれらをもたらす思考は隠れていて、わたしたちがそれに気づかないからである。言うまでもないが、わたしたちの思考には何らかの、また一定量の、激情がともなう。この激情のあらわれが、会話においても作品においてもおもしろい、楽しい。特に何かの研究者でなくても、命の感じられる会話や本がいちばん楽しいと言うだろう。なぜ? 他でもない、それらによって心が動くから、激情ゆえに心が動くからである。ほんの一分でも、まったく一定の声で変化なく話せる人はいない。その変化が激情の変化である。が、このことにわたしたちは気づかない。長年の慣れゆえに、また思考の動きが信じられないほど速すぎるから、である。よくよく考えれば気づくはずだが、わざわざそうする人はまずいない。

いずれにせよ、このような激情のうち、特に強いものが狂乱的な心の動きであり、それが強ければ強いほど、心は何かにとり憑かれたように、自分自身ではないように、なっていく。この狂乱状態、わたしたちが気づかないほど速く変化する思考がもたらす激情とはどのようなものか。概念化されて思考となるものごとがもたらす激情と同種のもの、と考えればいいだろう。例えば、偉大なものごとについて考えた時に生じる概念には称賛がともなう。さらに大きければ驚きもともなう。気持ちよく楽しいものごとを頭で考えれば喜び・明るい気分が生じる。悲しいことを思い浮かべれば憂鬱が生じ、悪意ある力を頭に描けば恐怖に襲われる。偉大かつ攻撃的な力について考えれば、驚愕と困惑と関心が入り混じり、さらに恐怖も感じて言葉を失う。加えて、このような思考を生む心が自分について考えれば、ある種の自負・自賛あるいは傲慢さ、そして喜びが生じる。自分は他より優れていると意識したなら、である。長編詩に描かれる狂乱状態をていねいに見れば、それが上記の激情のどれか、あるいはそれらが複雑にからみあったものであることがわかるであろう。それは、激情をともなうようなものごとを考えた時、頭に思い浮かべた時に自然に生じる激情の単体あるいは複合体なのである。このことについては次の章で例とともに説明する。

しかし、ほとんどの場合、ふつうの思考がもたらすものより、心に思い描く絵としての思考がもたらす激情のほうが強い。そのような絵は実際のものを生き生きと、まるで目の前にあるかのようにあらわすからである。なかでも動き、特に激しい動きを描く心中の絵は、意表を突きつつ強い感銘を与える。というのも、激しい動きを思い描く時には例外なく心そのものが激しく動き、揺れているからである。こうして激しく揺れ動きつつ心が思い描く絵はまさに真に迫るものとなり、現実に感じるのと同じ激情をわたしたちにもたらす。心に絵を描く力が強ければ強いほど、熱ければ熱いほど、そこに描かれるものが本物として感じられるのである。思考力・理解力を支配するほどまでに想像力が燃えあがる時、心の絵のなかのものと本物の区別はもはや存在しない。熱に浮かされた人や狂った人のように、である。

以上、狂乱状態とは思考がもたらすものであり、またその思考をもたらす主題がもたらすものである。詩の命である感情は、その源にある思考に比例していなければならない。そうでなければその感情は自然でない、訳のわからないものとなってしまう。同様に、その思考は主題に比例していなければならない。だから、こういうことになる。大きく強い狂乱状態を間違いなくもたらすような思考をもたらしうる主題とは、第一に、神聖なものである。なぜなら、神に関係する何かが偉大である時、それは最高に、驚くほど気高いものだからである。神に関係して何かが嬉しい時、それは我を忘れるほどうれしく、何かが悲しい時には絶望的に悲しく、恐ろしい時には思考が麻痺するほど恐ろしいからである。

*****
John Dennis (1657-1734)
From The Advancement and Reformation of Modern Poetry:
A Critical Discourse.
Ch. 6
That Passion is more to be deriv'd from a Sacred Subject than from a Prophane one

WE have prov'd that Passion is the chief thing in Poetry, and that Spirit or Genius, and in short every thing that moves is Passion. Now if the chief thing in Poetry be Passion, why then the chief thing in great Poetry must be great Passion. We have shewn too, that Passion in Poetry is of two sorts, ordinary Passion or Enthusiasm. Let us now proceed to convince the Reader, that a sacred Poem is more susceptible of Passion than a prophane one can be; which to effect, let us shew two things, that a sacred subject is as susceptible of ordinary passions as a prophane one can be, and more susceptible of the Enthusiastick.

The first is evident from experience: For the Poetry among the Ancients, which shall be hereafter prov'd to be sacred, had in it greater ordinary Passions, than their Human Poetry either had or could possibly have.

'Tis now our business to show that Religious subjects are capable of supplying us with more frequent and stronger Enthusiasms than the prophane. And in order to the clearing this, let us enquire what Poetical Enthusiasm is. Poetical Enthusiasm is a Passion guided by Judgment, whose cause is not comprehended by us. That it is a Passion is plain, because it moves. That the cause is not comprehended is self-evident. That it ought to be guided by Judgment is indubitable. For otherwise it would be Madness, and not Poetical Passion.

But now let us enquire what the cause of Poetical Enthusiasm is, that has been hitherto not comprehended by us. That Enthusiasm moves, is plain to sence; why then it mov'd the Writer: But if it mov'd the Writer, it mov'd him while he was thinking. Now what can move a man while he is thinking, but the thoughts that are in his mind. In short, Enthusiasm as well as ordinary Passions, must proceed from the thoughts, as the Passions of all reasonable creatures must certainly do; but the reason why we know not the causes of Enthusiastick as well as of ordinary Passions, is because we are not so us'd to them, and because they proceed from thoughts, that latently and unobserv'd by us, carry Passion along with them. Here it would be no hard matter to prove that most of our thoughts are naturally attended with some sort and some degree of Passion. And 'tis the expression of this Passion, which gives us so much pleasure, both in Conversation and in Human Authors. For I appeal to any man who is not altogether a Philosopher, whether he is not most pleas'd with Conversation and Books that are Spirited. Now how can this Spirit please him, but because it moves him, or what can move him but Passion? We never speak for so much as a minute together withont different inflexions of voice. Now any one will find upon reflection, that these variations and those inflexions mark our different passions. But all this passes unregarded by us, by reason of long use, and the incredible celerity of our thoughts, whose motion is so swift, that it is even to our selves imperceptible; unless we come to reflect, and every one will not be at the trouble of that.

Now these passions, when they grow strong I call Enthusiastick motions, and the stronger they are the greater the Enthusiasm must be. If any one asks what sort of passions these are, that thus unknown to us flow from these thoughts; to him I answer, that the same sort of passions flow from the thoughts, that would do from the things of which those thoughts are Ideas. As for example, if the thing that we think of is great, when then admiration attends the Idea of it; and if it is very great amazement. If the thing is pleasing and delightful, why then Joy and Gayety flow from the Idea of it; if it is sad, melancholy; if 'tis mischievous and powerful, then the Imagination of it is attended with Terror; And if 'tis both great and likely to do hurt and powerful, why then the thought of it is at once accompanied with Won­der, Terror and Astonishment. Add to all this, that the mind producing these thoughts, conceives by reflection a certain Pride, and Joy and Admiration, as at the conscious view of its own excellence. Now he who strictly examines the Enthusiasm that is to be met with in the greater Poetry, will find that it is nothing but the fore-mention'd passions, either simple or complicated, proceeding from the thoughts from which they naturally flow, as being the thoughts or Images of things that carry those passions along with them, as we shall shew by examples in the following Chapter.

But these passions that attend upon our thoughts are seldom so strong, as they are in those kind of thoughts which we call Images. For they being the very lively pictures of the things which they represent, set them, as it were, before our very eyes. But Images are never so admirably drawn, as when they are drawn in motion; especially if the motion is violent. For the mind can never imagine violent motion, without being in a violent agitation it self; and the Imagination being fir'd with that Agitation, sets the very things before our eyes; and consequently makes us have the same passions that we should have from the things themselves. For the warmer the Imagination is, the more present the things are to us, of which we draw the Images, and therefore when once the Imagination is so inflam'd as to get the better of the understanding, there is no difference between the Images and the things themselves; as we see, for example, in Fevers and Mad men.

Thus have we shewn that Enthusiasm flows from the thoughts, and consequently from the subject from which the thoughts proceed. For, as the Spirit in Poetry is to be proportion'd to the Thought, for otherwise it does not naturally flow from it, and consequently is not guided by Judgment; so the Thought is to be proportion'd to the Subject. Now no Subject is so capable of supplying us with thoughts, that necessarily produce these great and strong Enthusiasms, as a Religious Subject: For all which is great in Religion is most exalted and amazing, all that is joyful is transporting, all that is sad is dismal, and all that is terrible is astonishing.

https://ota.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/repository/xmlui/bitstream/handle/20.500.12024/K107084.000/K107084.000.html
一部修正

*****
学生の方など、自分の研究/発表のために上記を
参照する際には、このサイトの作者、タイトル、URL,
閲覧日など必要な事項を必ず記し、剽窃行為のないように
してください。

ウェブ上での引用などでしたら、リンクなどのみで
かまいません。

商用、盗用、悪用などないようお願いします。


コメント ( 0 ) | Trackback (  )