heroes and hero worship-第24节

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elsewhere；　was　it　that　brought　this　Shakspeare　into　being？　　No　dining　at　Freemason's　Tavern；　opening　subscription…lists；　selling　of　shares；　and　infinite　other　jangling　and　true　or　false　endeavoring！　　This　Elizabethan　Era；　and　all　its　nobleness　and　blessedness；　came　without　proclamation；　preparation　of　ours。　　Priceless　Shakspeare　was　the　free　gift　of　Nature；　given　altogether　silently；received　altogether　silently；　as　if　it　had　been　a　thing　of　little　account。　　And　yet；　very　literally；　it　is　a　priceless　thing。　　One　should　look　at　that　side　of　matters　too。

Of　this　Shakspeare　of　ours；　perhaps　the　opinion　one　sometimes　hears　a　little　idolatrously　expressed　is；　in　fact；　the　right　one；　I　think　the　best　judgment　not　of　this　country　only；　but　of　Europe　at　large；　is　slowly　pointing　to　the　conclusion；　that　Shakspeare　is　the　chief　of　all　Poets　hitherto；　the　greatest　intellect　who；　in　our　recorded　world；　has　left　record　of　himself　in　the　way　of　Literature。　　On　the　whole；　I　know　not　such　a　power　of　vision；　such　a　faculty　of　thought；　if　we　take　all　the　characters　of　it；　in　any　other　man。　　Such　a　calmness　of　depth；　placid　joyous　strength；　all　things　imaged　in　that　great　soul　of　his　so　true　and　clear；　as　in　a　tranquil　unfathomable　sea！　　It　has　been　said；　that　in　the　constructing　of　Shakspeare's　Dramas　there　is；　apart　from　all　other　〃faculties〃　as　they　are　called；　an　understanding　manifested；　equal　to　that　in　Bacon's　_Novum　Organum_　That　is　true；　and　it　is　not　a　truth　that　strikes　every　one。　　It　would　become　more　apparent　if　we　tried；　any　of　us　for　himself；　how；　out　of　Shakspeare's　dramatic　materials；　_we_　could　fashion　such　a　result！　　The　built　house　seems　all　so　fit；every　way　as　it　should　be；　as　if　it　came　there　by　its　own　law　and　the　nature　of　things；we　forget　the　rude　disorderly　quarry　it　was　shaped　from。　　The　very　perfection　of　the　house；　as　if　Nature　herself　had　made　it；　hides　the　builder's　merit。　　Perfect；　more　perfect　than　any　other　man；　we　may　call　Shakspeare　in　this：　　he　discerns；　knows　as　by　instinct；　what　condition　he　works　under；　what　his　materials　are；　what　his　own　force　and　its　relation　to　them　is。　　It　is　not　a　transitory　glance　of　insight　that　will　suffice；　it　is　deliberate　illumination　of　the　whole　matter；　it　is　a　calmly　_seeing_　eye；　a　great　intellect；　in　short。　　How　a　man；　of　some　wide　thing　that　he　has　witnessed；　will　construct　a　narrative；　what　kind　of　picture　and　delineation　he　will　give　of　it；is　the　best　measure　you　could　get　of　what　intellect　is　in　the　man。　　Which　circumstance　is　vital　and　shall　stand　prominent；　which　unessential；　fit　to　be　suppressed；　where　is　the　true　_beginning_；　the　true　sequence　and　ending？　　To　find　out　this；　you　task　the　whole　force　of　insight　that　is　in　the　man。　　He　must　_understand_　the　thing；　according　to　the　depth　of　his　understanding；　will　the　fitness　of　his　answer　be。　　You　will　try　him　so。　　Does　like　join　itself　to　like；　does　the　spirit　of　method　stir　in　that　confusion；　so　that　its　embroilment　becomes　order？　　Can　the　man　say；　_Fiat　lux_；　Let　there　be　light；　and　out　of　chaos　make　a　world？　　Precisely　as　there　is　light　in　himself；　will　he　accomplish　this。

Or　indeed　we　may　say　again；　it　is　in　what　I　called　Portrait…painting；　delineating　of　men　and　things；　especially　of　men；　that　Shakspeare　is　great。　All　the　greatness　of　the　man　comes　out　decisively　here。　　It　is　unexampled；　I　think；　that　calm　creative　perspicacity　of　Shakspeare。　　The　thing　he　looks　at　reveals　not　this　or　that　face　of　it；　but　its　inmost　heart；　and　generic　secret：　　it　dissolves　itself　as　in　light　before　him；　so　that　he　discerns　the　perfect　structure　of　it。　　Creative；　we　said：　　poetic　creation；　what　is　this　too　but　_seeing_　the　thing　sufficiently？　　The　_word_　that　will　describe　the　thing；　follows　of　itself　from　such　clear　intense　sight　of　the　thing。　　And　is　not　Shakspeare's　_morality_；　his　valor；　candor；　tolerance；　truthfulness；　his　whole　victorious　strength　and　greatness；　which　can　triumph　over　such　obstructions；　visible　there　too？　　Great　as　the　world。　　No　_twisted_；　poor　convex…concave　mirror；　reflecting　all　objects　with　its　own　convexities　and　concavities；　a　perfectly　_level_　mirror；that　is　to　say　withal；　if　we　will　understand　it；　a　man　justly　related　to　all　things　and　men；　a　good　man。　　It　is　truly　a　lordly　spectacle　how　this　great　soul　takes　in　all　kinds　of　men　and　objects；　a　Falstaff；　an　Othello；　a　Juliet；　a　Coriolanus；　sets　them　all　forth　to　us　in　their　round　completeness；　loving；　just；　the　equal　brother　of　all。　　_Novum　Organum_；　and　all　the　intellect　you　will　find　in　Bacon；　is　of　a　quite　secondary　order；　earthy；　material；　poor　in　comparison　with　this。　　Among　modern　men；　one　finds；　in　strictness；　almost　nothing　of　the　same　rank。　　Goethe　alone；　since　the　days　of　Shakspeare；　reminds　me　of　it。　　Of　him　too　you　say　that　he　_saw_　the　object；　you　may　say　what　he　himself　says　of　Shakspeare：　　〃His　characters　are　like　watches　with　dial…plates　of　transparent　crystal；　they　show　you　the　hour　like　others；　and　the　inward　mechanism　also　is　all　visible。〃

The　seeing　eye！　　It　is　this　that　discloses　the　inner　harmony　of　things；　what　Nature　meant；　what　musical　idea　Nature　has　wrapped　up　in　these　often　rough　embodiments。　　Something　she　did　mean。　　To　the　seeing　eye　that　something　were　discernible。　　Are　they　base；　miserable　things？　　You　can　laugh　over　them；　you　can　weep　over　them；　you　can　in　some　way　or　other　genially　relate　yourself　to　them；you　can；　at　lowest；　hold　your　peace　about　them；　turn　away　your　own　and　others'　face　from　them；　till　the　hour　come　for　practically　exterminating　and　extinguishing　them！　　At　bottom；　it　is　the　Poet's　first　gift；　as　it　is　all　men's；　that　he　have　intellect　enough。　　He　will　be　a　Poet　if　he　have：　　a　Poet　in　word；　or　failing　that；　perhaps　still　better；　a　Poet　in　act。　　Whether　he　write　at　all；　and　if　so；　whether　in　prose　or　in　verse；　will　depend　on　accidents：　　who　knows　on　what　extremely　trivial　accidents；perhaps　on　his　having　had　a　singing…master；　on　his　being　taught　to　sing　in　his　boyhood！　　But　the　faculty　which　enables　him　to　discern　the　inner　heart　of　things；　and　the　harmony　that　dwells　there　（for　whatsoever　exists　has　a　harmony　in　the　heart　of　it；　or　it　would　not　hold　together　and　exist）；　is　not　the　result　of　habits　or　accidents；　but　the　gift　of　Nature　herself；　the　primary　outfit　for　a　Heroic　Man　in　what　sort　soever。　　To　the　Poet；　as　to　every　other；　we　say　first　of　all；　_See_。　　If　you　cannot　do　that；　it　is　of　no　use　to　keep　stringing　rhymes　together；　jingling　sensibilities　against　each　other；　and　_name_　yourself　a　Poet；　there　is　no　hope　for　you。　　If　you　can；　there　is；　in　prose　or　verse；　in　action　or　speculation；　all　manner　of　hope。　　The　crabbed　old　Schoolmaster　used　to　ask；　when　they　brought　him　a　new　pupil；　〃But　are　ye　sure　he's　_not　a　dunce_？〃　　Why；　really　one　might　ask　the　same　thing；　in　regard　to　every　man　proposed　for　whatsoever　function；　and　consider　it　as　the　one　inquiry　needful：　　Are　ye　sure　he's　not　a　dunce？　　There　is；　in　this　world；　no　other　entirely　fatal　person。

For；　in　fact；　I　say　the　degree　of　vision　that　dwells　in　a　man　is　a　correct　measure　of　the　man。　　If　called　to　define　Shakspeare's　faculty；　I　should　say　superiority　of　Intellect；　and　think　I　had　included　all　under　that。　　What　indeed　are　faculties？　　We　talk　of　faculties　as　if　they　were　distinct；　things　separable；　as　if　a　man　had　intellect；　imagination；　fancy；　&c。；　as　he　has　hands；　feet　and　arms。　　That　is　a　capital　error。　　Then　again；　we　hear　of　a　man's　〃intellectual　nature；〃　and　of　his　〃moral　nature；〃　as　if　these　again　were　divisible；　and　existed　apart。　　Necessities　of　language　do　perhaps　prescribe　such　forms　of　utterance；　we　must　speak；　I　am　aware；　in　that　way；　if　we　are　to　speak　at　all。　　But　words　ought　not　to　harden　into　things　for　us。　　It　seems　to　me；　our　apprehension　of　this　matter　is；　for　most　part；　radically　falsified　thereby。　　We　ought　to　know　withal；　and　to　keep　forever　in　mind；　that　these　divisions　are　at　bottom　but　_names_；　that　man's　spiritual　nature；　the　vital　Force　which　dwells　in　him；　is　essentially　one　and　indivisible；　that　what　we　call　imagination；　fancy；　understanding；　and　so　forth；　are　but　different　figures　of　the　same　Power　of　Insight；　all　indissolubly　connected　with　each　other；　physiognomically　related；　that　if　we　knew　one　of　them；　we　might　know　all　of　them。　　Morality　itself；　what　we　call　the　moral　quality　of　a　man；　what　is　this　but　another　_side_　of　the　one　vital　Force　whereby　he　is　and　works？　　All　that　a　man　does　is　physiognomical　of　him。　　You　may　see　how　a　man　would　fight；　by　the　way　in　which　he　sings；　his　courage；　or　want　of　courage；　is　visible　in　the　word　he　utters；　in　the　opinion　he　has　formed；　no　less　than　in　the　stroke　he　strikes。　　He　is　_one_；　and　preaches　the　same　Self　abroad　in　all　these　ways。

Without　hands　a　man　might　have　feet；　and　could　still　walk：　　but；　consider　it；without　morality；　intellect　were　impossible　for　him；　a　thoroughly　immoral　_man_　could　not　know　anything　at　all！　　To　know　a　thing；　what　we　can　call　knowing；　a　man　must　first　_love_　the　thing；　sympathize　with　it：　　that　is；　be　_virtuously_　related　to　it。　　If　he　have　not　the　justice　to　put　down　his　own　selfishness　at　every　turn；　the　courage　to　stand　by　the　dangerous…true　at　every　turn；　how　shall　he　know？　　His　virtues；　all　of　them；　will　lie　recorded　in　his　kn