tho' that was what, I fuppofe, he valu'd himself least upon, fince his excellencies were all of another kind. I am very fenfible that he do's, in this play, depart too much from that likeness to truth which ought to be obferv'd in thefe fort of writings; yet he does it fo very finely, that one is eafily drawn in to have more faith for his fake, than reafon does well allow of. His Magick has fomething in it very folemn and very poetical: And that extravagant character of Caliban is mighty well fuftain'd, fhews a wonderful invention in the Author, who could ftrike out fuch a particular wild image, and is certainly one of the finest and most uncommon Grotefques that was ever feen. The Obfervation, which I have been inform'd (a) three very great men concurr'd in making upon this part, was extremely juft; That Shakespear had not only found out a new Character in his Caliban, but had alfo devis'd and adapted a new manner of Language for that Character. It is the fame magick that raises the Fairies in MidSummer Night's Dream, the Witches in Mackbeth, and the Ghoft in Hamlet, with thoughts and language fo proper to the parts they fuftain, and fo peculiar to the talent of this Writer. But of the two last of these Plays I fhall have occafion to take notice, among the Tragedies of Mr. Shakespear. If one undertook to examine the greateft part of thefe by thofe rules whch are establish'd by Aristotle, and taken from the model of the Grecian Stage, it would be no very hard task to find a great many faults: But as Shakespear liv'd under a kind of mere light of nature, and had never been made acquainted with the regularity of those written precepts, fo it would be hard to judge him by a law he knew nothing of. We are to confider him as a man that liv'd in a state of almost univerfal license and ignorance: there was no establish'd judge (a) Lord Falkland, Lord C. J. Vaughan, and Mr. Selden. 2 judge, but every one took the liberty to write according to the dictates of his own fancy. When one confiders, that there is not one play before him of a reputation good enough to entitle it to an appearance on the prefent Stage, it cannot but be a matter of great wonder that he fhould advance dramatick Poetry fo far as he did. The Fable is what is generally plac'd the firft, among thofe that are reckon'd the conftituent parts of a Tragick or Heroick Poem; not, perhaps, as it is the most difficult or beautiful, but as it is the firft properly to be thought of in the contrivance and courfe of the whole; and with the Fable ought to be confider'd, the fit Difpofition, Order and Conduct of its feveral parts. As it is not in this province of the Drama that the ftrength and maftery of ShakeSpear lay, fo I fhall not undertake the tedious and illnatur'd trouble to point out the feveral faults he was guilty of in it. His Tales were feldom invented, but rather taken either from true Hiftory, or Novels and Romances: And he commonly made ufe of 'em in that order, with thofe Incidents, and that extent of time in which he found 'em in the Authors from whence he borrow'd them. Almoft all his hiftorical Plays comprehend a great length of time, and very different and diftinct places: And in his Antony and Cleopatra, the Scene travels over the greatest part of the Roman Empire. But in recompence for his carelefsnefsi this point, when he comes to another part of the Drama, The Manners of his Characters, in alting or fpeaking what is proper for them, and fit to be shown by the Poet, he may be generally juftify'd, and in very many places greatly commended. For thofe Plays which he has taken from the English or Roman hiftory, let any man compare 'em, and he will find the character as exact in the Poet as the Hiftorian. He feems indeed fo far from propofing to himself any one action for a Subject, that the Title very often tells you, 'tis won'tis The The Life of King John, King Richard, &c. What can be more agreeable to the idea our hiftorians give of Henry the fixth, than the picture Shakespear has drawn of him! His Manners are every where exactly the fame with the story; one finds him still defcrib'd with fimplicity, paffive fanctity, want of courage, weaknefs of mind, and eafy fubmiffion to the governance of an imperious Wife, or prevailing Faction: Tho' at the fame time the Poet does juftice to his good qualities, and moves the pity of his audience for him, by fhewing him pious, difinterested, a contemner of the things of this world, and wholly refign'd to the fevereft difpenfations of God's providence. There is a fhort Scene in the fecond part of Henry VI. which I cannot but think admirable in its kind. Cardinal Beaufort, who had murder'd the Duke of Gloucefter, is fhewn in the last agonies on his death-bed, with the good King praying over him. There is fo much terror in one, fo much tenderness and moving piety in the other, as muft touch any one who is capable either of fear or pity. In his Henry VIII, that Prince is drawn with that greatnefs of mind, and all thofe good qualities which are attributed to him in any account of his reign. If his faults are not fhewn in an equal degree, and the fhades in this picture do not bear a juft proportion to the lights, it is not that the Artift wanted either colours or skill in the difpofition of 'em; but the truth, I believe, might be, that he forbore doing it out of regard to Queen Elizabeth, fince it could have been no very great refpect to the memory of his Miftrefs, to have expos'd fome certain parts of her father's life upon the ftage. He has dealt much more freely with the Minifter of that great King, and certainly nothing was ever more juftly written, than the character of Cardinal Wolfey. He has fhewn him infolent in his profperity; and yet, by a wonderful address, he makes his fall and ruin the fubject of general general compaffion. The whole man, with his vices and virtues, is finely and exactly defcrib'd in the fecond scene of the fourth act. The diftreffes likewife of Queen Catharine, in this Play, are very movingly touch'd; and tho' the art of the Poet has fcreen'd King Henry from any grofs imputation of injustice, yet one is inclin❜d to with, the Queen had met with a fortune more worthy of her birth and virtue. Nor are the Manners, proper to the perfons reprefented, lefs justly observ'd, in those characters taken from the Roman Hiftory; and of this, the fiercenefs and impatience of Coriolanus, his courage and difdain of the common people, the virtue and philofophical temper of Brutus, and the irregular great-nefs of mind in M. Antony, are beautiful proofs. For the two laft especially, you find 'em exactly as they are defcrib'd by Plutarch, from whom certainly ShakeSpear copy'd 'em. He has indeed follow'd his original pretty clofe, and taken in several little incidents that might have been fpar'd in a Play. But, as I hinted before, his defign feems most commonly rather to describe thofe great men in the feveral fortunes and accidents of their lives, than to take any fingle great action, and form his work fimply upon that. However, there are fome of his pieces, where the Fa ble is founded upon one action only. Such are more efpecially, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, and Othello. The defign in Romeo and Juliet, is plainly the punishment of their two families, for the unreasonable feuds and animofities that had been fo long kept up between 'em, and occafion'd the effufion of fo much blood. In the management of this story, he has fhewn fomething wonderfully tender and paffionate in the lovepart, and very pitiful in the distress. Hamlet is founded on much the fame Tale with the Electra of Sophocles. In each of 'em a young Prince is engaged to revenge the death of his father, their mothers are equally equally guilty, are both concern'd in the murder of their husbands, and are afterwards married to the murderers. There is in the first part of the Greek Tragedy, fomething very moving in the grief of Electra; but as Mr. Dacier has obferv'd, there is fomething very unnatural and fhocking in the Manners he has given that Princefs and Oreftes in the latter part. Oreftes embrues his hands in the blood of his own mother; and that barbarous action is perform'd, tho' not immediately upon the ftage, yet fo near, that the audience hear Clytemnestra crying out to Egyftbus for help, and to her fon for mercy: While Elettra her daughter, and a Princefs (both of them characters that ought to have appear'd with more decency) ftands upon the stage and encourages her brother in the Parricide. What horror does this not raife! Clytemnestra was a wicked woman, and had deferv'd to die; nay, in the truth of the ftory, fhe was kill'd by her own fon; but to reprefent an action of this kind on the stage, is certainly an offence against thofe rules of manners proper to the perfons, that ought to be obfery'd there. On the contrary, let us only look a little on the conduct of Shakespear. Hamlet is reprefented with the fame piety towards his father, and refolution to revenge his death, as Oreftes; he has the fame abhorrence for his mother's guilt, which, to provoke him the more, is heighten'd by inceft: But 'tis with wonderful art and juftnefs of judgment, that the Poet restrains him from doing violence to his mother. To prevent any thing of that kind, he makes his father's Ghoft forbid that part of his vengeance. But howsoever thou purfu'ft this A&t, |