| The great English Romantic writer William Hazlitt (1778--1830) has written art and literary criticism and essays on human nature unmatched in their keen observation, penetrating insight, and extraordinary energy of style. The fusion of passion and reason which he brings to bear upon his subjects makes reading him unforgettable. In attempting to explain Hazlitt's source of power, the secret of his individual vitality, I have focused on the idea of a ruling passion as described by M. H. Abrams in The Mirror and the Lamp. Abrams cites John Keble's extensive use of a "ruling taste or passion" in Keble's early Romantic criticism and sees him as the founder of one of the most widely followed critical procedures in use today. I have focused my study on Hazlitt's spleen as his ruling passion for several reasons: Many of his contemporaries commented on the splenetic quality of his writing, and with reason---it is impossible to read him without feeling the spleen flowing from his pen. In addition, Hazlitt mentions spleen frequently throughout his work, and, perhaps most importantly, his attitude toward it is both troubled and complex: On the one hand his sees being splenetic as a serious fault; on the other, he praises the spleen as a source of truth, genius, and power. I have paid particular attention to the many and complex uses Hazlitt makes of the spleen. It served as his personal demon, sharpening his wit, fending off ennui and indolence, and spurring him on to greater and more passionate involvement with the world. Indeed, I have argued that the irritable qualities of the spleen in some way influence virtually all of Hazlitt's thought and work---from the contrariety which makes his essays so exciting, to the sharp intensity behind gusto, one of his most important critical terms. The idea behind my thesis is that by better understanding Hazlitt's attitude toward and use of his demon of spleen, we might better understand this troubled genius of the English language. |
