CHAPTER II

SCOTT'S QUALIFICATIONS AS CRITIC

Wide reading Scott's first qualification--Scott the

antiquary--Character of his interest in history--His

imagination--His knowledge of practical affairs--Common-sense in

criticism--Cheerfulness, good-humor, and optimism--General aspect of

Scott's critical work.

Wide and appreciative reading was Scott's first qualification for

critical work. A memory that retained an incredible amount of what he

read was the second. One of the severest censures he ever expressed was

in regard to Godwin, who, he thought, undertook to do scholarly work

without adequate equipment. "We would advise him," Scott said in his

review of Godwin's _Life of Chaucer_, "in future to read before he

writes, and not merely while he is writing." Scott himself had

accumulated a store of literary materials, and he used them according to

the dictates of a temperament which had vivid interests on many sides.

We may distinguish three points of view which were habitual to Scott,

and which determined the direction of his creative work, as well as the

tone of his criticism. These were--as all the world knows--the

historical, the romantic, the practical.

He was, as he often chose to call himself, an antiquary; he felt the

appeal of all that was old and curious. But he was much more than that.

The typical antiquary has his mind so thoroughly devoted to the past

that the present seems remote to him. The sheer intellectual capacity of

such a man as Scott might be enough to save him from such a limitation,

for he could give to the past as much attention as an ordinary man could

muster, and still have interest for contemporary affairs; but his

capacity was not all that saved Scott. He viewed the past always as

filled with living men, whose chief occupation was to think and feel

rather than to provide towers and armor for the delectation of future

antiquaries.[7] A sympathetic student of his work has said, "There is

... throughout the poetry of this author, even when he leads us to the

remotest wildernesses and the most desolate monuments of antiquity, a

constant reference to the feelings of man in his social condition."[8]

The past, to the author of _Kenilworth_, was only the far end of the

present, and he believed that the most useful result of the study of

history is a comprehension of the real quality of one's own period and a

wisdom in the conduct of present day affairs.[9]

The favorite pursuits of Scott's youth indicate that his characteristic

taste showed itself early; indeed it is said that he retained his boyish

traits more completely than most people do. We can trace much of his

love of the past to the family traditions which made the adventurous

life of his ancestors vividly real to him. The annals of the Scotts were

his earliest study, and he developed such an affection for his

freebooting grandsires that in his manhood he confessed to an

unconquerable liking for the robbers and captains of banditti of his

romances, characters who could not be prevented from usurping the place

of the heroes. "I was always a willing listener to tales of broil and

battle and hubbub of every kind," he wrote in later life, "and now I

look back upon it, I think what a godsend I must have been while a boy

to the old Trojans of 1745, nay 1715, who used to frequent my father's

house, and who knew as little as I did for what market I was laying up

the raw materials of their oft-told tales."[10] What attracted him in

his boyhood, and what continued to attract him, was the picturesque

incident, the color of the past, the mere look of its varied activity.

The philosophy of history was gradually revealed to him, however, and

his generalizing faculty found congenial employment in tracing out the

relation of men to movements, of national impulses to world history. But

however much he might exercise his analytical powers, history was never

abstract to him, nor did it require an effort for him to conjure up

scenes of the past. An acquaintance with the stores of early literature

served to give him the spirit of remote times as well as to feed his

literary tastes. On this side he had an ample equipment for critical

work, conditioned, of course, by the other qualities of his mind, which

determined how the equipment should be used.

That Scott was not a dull digger in heaps of ancient lore was owing to

his imaginative power,--the second of the qualities which we have

distinguished as dominating his literary temperament. "I can see as many

castles in the clouds as any man," he testified.[11] A recent writer has

said that Scott had more than any other man that ever lived a sense of

the romantic, and adds that his was that true romance which "lies not

upon the outside of life, but absolutely in the centre of it."[12] The

situations and the very objects that he described have the power of

stirring the romantic spirit in his readers because he was alive to the

glamour surrounding anything which has for generations been connected

with human thoughts and emotions. The subjectivity which was so

prominent an element in the romanticism of Shelley, Keats, and Byron,

does not appear in Scott's work. Nor was his sense of the mystery of

things so subtle as that of Coleridge. But Scott, rather than Coleridge,

was the interpreter to his age of the romantic spirit, for the ordinary

person likes his wonders so tangible that he may know definitely the

point at which they impinge upon his consciousness. In Scott's work the

point of contact is made clear: the author brings his atmosphere not

from another world but from the past, and with all its strangeness it

has no unearthly quality. In general the romance of his nature is rather

taken for granted than insisted on, for there are the poems and the

novels to bear witness to that side of his temperament; and the

surprising thing is that such an author was a business man, a large

landowner, an industrious lawyer.[13]

Scott's imaginative sense, which clothed in fine fancies any incident or

scene presented, however nakedly, to his view, accounts in part for his

notorious tendency to overrate the work of other writers, especially

those who wrote stories in any form. This explanation was hinted at by

Sir Walter himself, and formulated by Lockhart; it seems a fairly

reasonable way of accounting for a trait that at first appears to

indicate only a foolish excess of good-nature. This rich and active

imagination, which Scott brought to bear on everything he read, perhaps

explains also his habit of paying little attention to carefully worked

out details, and of laying almost exclusive emphasis upon main outlines.

When he was writing his _Life of Napoleon_, he said in his _Journal_:

"Better a superficial book which brings well and strikingly together the

known and acknowledged facts, than a dull boring narrative, pausing to

see further into a mill-stone at every moment than the nature of the

mill-stone admits."[14] Probably his high gift of imagination made him a

little impatient with the remoter reaches of the analytic faculties. Any

sustained exercise of the pure reason was outside his province,

reasonable as he was in everyday affairs. He preferred to consider

facts, and to theorize only so far as was necessary to establish

comfortable relations between the facts,--never to the extent of trying

to look into the center of a mill-stone. It was not unusual for him to

make very acute observations in the spheres of ethics, economics, and

psychology, and to use them in explaining any situation which might seem

to require their assistance; but these remarks were brief and

incidental, and bore a very definite relation to the concrete ideas they

were meant to illustrate.

Scott was a business man as well as an antiquary and a poet. Mr.

Palgrave thought Lockhart went too far in creating the impression that

Scott could detach his mind from the world of imagination and apply its

full force to practical affairs.[15] Yet the oversight of lands and

accounts and of all ordinary matters was so congenial to him, and his

practical activities were on the whole conducted with so much spirit and

capability, that after emphasizing his preoccupation with the poetic

aspects of the life of his ancestors, we must turn immediately about and

lay stress upon his keen judgment in everyday affairs. To a school-boy

poet he once wrote: "I would ... caution you against an enthusiasm

which, while it argues an excellent disposition and a feeling heart,

requires to be watched and restrained, though not repressed. It is apt,

if too much indulged, to engender a fastidious contempt for the ordinary

business of the world, and gradually to render us unfit for the exercise

of the useful and domestic virtues which depend greatly upon our not

exalting our feelings above the temper of well-ordered and well-educated

society."[16] He phrased the same matter differently when he said: "'I'd

rather be a kitten and cry, Mew!' than write the best poetry in the

world on condition of laying aside common-sense in the ordinary

transactions and business of the world."[17] "He thought," said

Lockhart, "that to spend some fair portion of every day in any

matter-of-fact occupation is good for the higher faculties themselves in

the upshot."[18] Whether or not we consider this the ideal theory of

life for a poet, we find it reasonable to suppose that a critic will be

the better critic if he preserve some balance between matter-of-fact

occupation and the exercise of his higher faculties. Sir Walter's maxim

applies well to himself at least, and an analysis of his powers as a

critic derives some light from it.

The thing that is waiting to be said is of course that his criticism is

distinguished by common-sense. Whether common-sense should really

predominate in criticism might perhaps be debated; the quality

indicates, indeed, not only the excellence but also the limitations of

his method. For example, Scott was rather too much given to accepting

popular favor as the test of merit in literary work, and though the

clamorously eager reception of his own books was never able to raise his

self-esteem to a very high pitch, it seems to have been the only thing

that induced him to respect his powers in anything like an appreciative

way.[19] His instinct and his judgment agreed in urging him to avoid

being a man of "mere theory,"[20] and he sought always to test opinions

by practical standards.

More or less connected with his good sense are other qualities which

also had their effect upon his critical work,--his cheerfulness, his

sweet temper and human sympathy, his modesty, his humor, his

independence of spirit, and his enthusiastic delight in literature. That

his cheerfulness was a matter of temperament we cannot doubt, but it was

also founded on principle. He had remarkable power of self-control.[21]

His opinion that it is a man's duty to live a happy life appears rather

quaintly in the sermonizing with which he felt called upon to temper the

admiration expressed in his articles on _Childe Harold_, and it is

implicit in many of his biographical studies. His own amiability of

course influenced all his work. Satire he considered objectionable, "a

woman's fault,"[22] as he once called it; though he did not feel himself

"altogether disqualified for it by nature."[23] "I have refrained, as

much as human frailty will permit, from all satirical composition,"[24]

he said. For satire he seems to have substituted that kind of "serious

banter, a style hovering between affected gravity and satirical

slyness," which has been pointed out as characteristic of him.[25]

Washington Irving noticed a similar tone in all his familiar

conversations about local traditions and superstitions.[26]

He was really optimistic, except on some political questions. In his

_Lives of the Novelists_ he shows that he thought manners and morals had

improved in the previous hundred years; and none of his reviews exhibits

the feeling so common among men of letters in all ages, that their own

times are intellectually degenerate. It is true that he looked back to

the days of Blair, Hume, Adam Smith, Robertson, and Ferguson, as the

"golden days of Edinburgh,"[27] but those golden days were no farther

away than his own boyhood, and he had felt the exhilaration of the

stimulating society which he praised. One of his contemporaries spoke of

Scott's own works as throwing "a literary splendour over his native

city";[28] and George Ticknor said of him, "He is indeed the lord of the

ascendant now in Edinburgh, and well deserves to be, for I look upon him

to be quite as remarkable in intercourse and conversation, as he is in

any of his writings, even in his novels."[29] But he could hardly be

expected to perceive the luster surrounding his own personality, and

this one instance of regret for former days counts little against the

abundant evidence that he thought the world was improving. Yet of all

his contemporaries he was probably the one who looked back at the past

with the greatest interest. The impression made by the author of

_Waverley_ upon the mind of a young enthusiast of his own time is too

delightful to pass over without quotation. "He has no eccentric

sympathies or antipathies"; wrote J.L. Adolphus, "no maudlin

philanthropy or impertinent cynicism; no nondescript hobby-horse; and

with all his matchless energy and originality of mind, he is content to

admire popular books, and enjoy popular pleasures; to cherish those

opinions which experience has sanctioned; to reverence those

institutions which antiquity has hallowed; and to enjoy, admire,

cherish, and reverence all these with the same plainness, simplicity,

and sincerity as our ancestors did of old."[30]

By temperament, then, Scott was enthusiastic over the past and cheerful

in regard to his own day; he was imaginative, practical, genial; and

these traits must be taken into account in judging his critical

writings. These and other qualities may be deduced from the most

superficial study of his creative work. The mere bulk of that work bears

witness to two things: first that Scott was primarily a creative writer;

again, that he was of those who write much rather than minutely. It is

obvious that to attack details would be easy. And since he was only

secondarily a critic, it is natural that his critical opinions should

not have been erected into any system. But while they are essentially

desultory, they are the ideas of a man whose information and enthusiasm

extended through a wide range of studies; and they are rendered

impressive by the abundance, variety, and energy, which mark them as

characteristic of Scott.

Sir Walter Scott as a Critic of Literature · 第 2 / 7 章