《Synge And The Ireland Of His Time》第2章

they　be　but　diagrams　of　what　it　should　be　or　may　be。　he　and　his　school　imagined　the　soldier；　the　orator；　the　patriot；　the　poet；　the　chieftain；　and　above　all　the　peasant；　and　these；　as　celebrated　in　essay　and　songs　and　stories；　possessed　so　many　virtues　that　no　matter　how　england；　who　as　mitchell　said　had　the　ear　of　the　world；　might　slander　us；　ireland；　even　though　she　could　not　e　at　the　worlds　other　ear；　might　go　her　way　unabashed。　but　ideas　and　images　which　have　to　be　understood　and loved　by　large　numbers　of　people；　must　appeal　to　no　rich　personal　experience；　no　patience　of　study；　no　delicacy　of　sense；　and　if　at　rare　moments　some　memory　of　the　dead　can　take　its　strength　from　one；　at　all　other　moments　manner　and　matter　will　be　rhetorical；　conventional；　sentimental；　and　language；　because　it　is　carried　beyond　life　perpetually；　will　be　as　wasted　as　the　thought；　with　unmeaning　pedantries　and　silences；　and　a　dread　of　all　that　has　salt　and　savour。　after　a　while；　in　a　land　that　has　given　itself　to　agitation　over？much；　abstract　thoughts　are　raised　up　between　mens　minds　and　nature；　who　never　does　the　same　thing　twice；　or　makes　one　man　like　another；　till　minds；　whose　patriotism　is　perhaps　great　enough　to　carry　them　to　the　scaffold；　cry　down　natural　impulse　with　the　morbid　persistence　of　minds　unsettled　by　some　fixed　idea。　they　are　preoccupied　with　the　nations　future；　with　heroes；　poets；　soldiers；　painters；　armies；　fleets；　but　only　as　these　things　are　understood　by　a　child　in　a　national　school；　while　a　secret　feeling　that　what　is　so　unreal　needs　continual　defence　makes　them　bitter　and　restless。　they　are　like　some　state　which　has　only　paper　money；　and　seeks　by　punishments　to　make　it　buy　whatever　gold　can　buy。　they　no　longer　love；　for　only　life　is　loved；　and　at　last；　a　generation　is　like　an　hysterical　woman　who　will　make　unmeasured　accusations　and　believe　impossible　things；　because　of　some　logical　deduction　from　a　solitary　thought　which　has　turned　a　portion　of　her　mind　to　stone。
Synge　And　The　Ireland　Of　His　TimeIII
even　if　what　one　defends　be　true；　an　attitude　of　defence；　a　continual　apology；　whatever　the　cause；　makes　the　mind　barren　because　it　kills　intellectual　innocence；　that　delight　in　what　is　unforeseen；　and　in　the　mere　spectacle　of　the　world；　the　mere　drifting　hither　and　thither　that　must　e　before　all　true　thought　and　emotion。
a　zealous　irishman；　especially　if　he　lives　much　out　of　ireland；　spends　his　time　in　a　never？ending　argument　about　oliver　cromwell；　the　danes；　the　penal　laws；　the　rebellion　of　1798；　the　famine；　the　irish　peasant；　and　ends　by　substituting　a　traditional　casuistry　for　a　country；　and　if　he　be　a　catholic；　yet　another　casuistry　that　has　professors；　schoolmasters；　letter？writing　priests；　and　the　authors　of　manuals　to　make　the　meshes　fine；　es　between　him　and　english　literature；　substituting　arguments　and　hesitations　for　the　excitement　at　the　first　reading　of　the　great　poets　which　should　be　a　sort　of　violent　imaginative　puberty。　his　hesitations　and　arguments　may　have　been　right；　the　catholic　philosophy　may　be　more　profound　than　miltons　morality；　or　shelleys　vehement　vision；　but　none　the　less　do　we　lose　life　by　losing　that　recklessness　castiglione　thought　necessary　even　in　good　manners；　and　offend　our　lady　truth；　who　would　never；　had　she　desired　an　anxious　courtship；　have　digged　a　well　to　be　her　parlour。
i　admired　though　we　were　always　quarrelling　on　some　matter；　j。f。　taylor；　the　orator；　who　died　just　before　the　first　controversy　over　these　plays。　it　often　seemed　to　me　that　when　he　spoke　ireland　herself　had　spoken；　one　got　that　sense　of　surprise　that　es　when　a　man　has　said　what　is　unforeseen　because　it　is　far　from　the　mon　thought；　and　yet　obvious　because　when　it　has　been　spoken；　the　gate　of　the　mind　seems　suddenly　to　roll　back　and　reveal　forgotten　sights　and　let　loose　lost　passions。　i　have　never　heard　him　speak　except　in　some　irish　literary　or　political　society；　but　there　at　any　rate；　as　in　conversation；　i　found　a　man　whose　life　was　a　ceaseless　reverie　over　the　religious　and　political　history　of　ireland。　he　saw　himself　pleading　for　his　country　before　an　invisible　jury；　perhaps　of　the　great　dead；　against　traitors　at　home　and　enemies　abroad；　and　a　sort　of　frenzy　in　his　voice　and　the　moral　elevation　of　his　thoughts　gave　him　for　the　moment　style　and　music。　one　asked　oneself　again　and　again；　why　is　not　this　man　an　artist；　a　man　of　genius；　a　creator　of　some　kind？　the　other　day　under　the　influence　of　memory；　i　read　through　his　one　book；　a　life　of　owen　roe　oneill；　and　found　there　no　sentence　detachable　from　its　context　because　of　wisdom　or　beauty。　everything　was　argued　from　a　premise；　and　wisdom；　and　style；　whether　in　life　or　letters　e　from　the　presence　of　what　is　self？evident；　from　that　which　requires　but　statement；　from　what　blake　called　naked　beauty　displayed。　the　sense　of　what　was　unforeseen　and　obvious；　the　rolling　backward　of　the　gates　had　gone　with　the　living　voice；　with　the　nobility　of　will　that　made　one　understand　what　he　saw　and　felt　in　what　was　now　but　argument　and　logic。　i　found　myself　in　the　presence　of　a　mind　like　some　noisy　and　powerful　machine；　of　thought　that　was　no　part　of　wisdom　but　the　apologetic　of　a　moment；　a　woven　thing；　no　intricacy　of　leaf　and　twig；　of　words　with　no　more　of　salt　and　of　savour　than　those　of　a　jesuit　professor　of　literature；　or　of　any　other　who　does　not　know　that　there　is　no　lasting　writing　which　does　not　define　the　quality；　or　carry　the　substance　of　some　pleasure。　how　can　one； if　ones　mind　be　full　of　abstractions　and　images　created　not　for　their　own　sake　but　for　the　sake　of　party；　even　if　there　were　still　the　need；　find　words　that　delight　the　ear；　make　pictures　to　the　minds　eye；　discover　thoughts　that　tighten　the　muscles；　or　quiver　and　tingle　in　the　flesh；　and　stand　like　st。　michael　with　the　trumpet　that　calls　the　body　to　resurrection？
。。
Synge　And　The　Ireland　Of　His　TimeIV
young　ireland　had　taught　a　study　of　our　history　with　the　glory　of　ireland　for　event；　and　this　for　lack；　when　less　than　taylor　studied；　of　parison　with　that　of　other　countries　wrecked　the　historical　instinct。　an　old　man　with　an　academic　appointment；　who　was　a　leader　in　the　att