cate, nor audaciously bold, affume their higheft character, and in all their compofitions seem to respect the chastity of the public taste, which would equally disdain quaintness of ornament, or the rude neglect of elegance and decorum. Such periods had Greece, had Rome! Then were produced immortal works of every kind! But, when the living manners degenerated, in vain did an Ariftotle and a Quintilian endeavour to restore by doctrine, what had been infpired by fentiment, and fashioned by manners.

If the feverer mufes, whofe fphere is the Library and the Senate, are obliged in complaifance to this degeneracy, to trick themfelves out with meretricious and frivolous ornaments, as is too apparent from the compofitions of the Hiftorians and Orators in declining empires, can we wonder that a dramatic poet, whose chief interest it is to please the people, fhould, more than any other writer, conform himself to their humour; and appear more ftrongly infected

with

with the faults of the times, whether they be fuch as belong to unpolished, or corrupted taste.

Shakespear wrote at a time, when learning was tinctured with pedantry; wit was unpolished, and mirth ill-bred. The court of Elizabeth spoke a scientific jargon, and a certain obscurity of style was univerfally affected. James brought an addition of pedantry, accompanied by indecent and indelicate manners and language. By contagion, or from complaifance to the taste of the public, Shakespear falls fometimes into the fashionable mode of writing but this is only by fits; for many parts of all his plays are written with the most noble, elegant, and uncorrupted fimplicity. Such is his merit, that the more just and refined the taste of the nation is become, the more he has encreased in reputation. He was approved by his own age, admired by the next, and is revered, and almost adored by the prefent. His merit is difputed by little

wits, and his errors are the jefts of little critics; but there has not been a great poet, or great critic, fince his time, who has not spoken of him with the highest veneration, Mr. Voltaire alone excepted; whofe tranflations often, whofe criticifms still oftener, prove he did not perfectly underftand the Words of the Author; and therefore it is certain he could not enter into his Meaning. He comprehended enough to perceive that Shakespear was unobfervant of fome established rules of compofition; the felicity, with which he performs what no rules can teach, escapes him. Will not an intelligent fpectator admire the prodigious ftructures of Stone-Henge, because he does not know by what law of mechanics they were raised? Like them, our author's works will remain for ever the greatest monuments of the amazing force of nature, which we ought to view as we do other prodigies, with an attention to, and admiration of their ftupendous parts, and proud irregularity of Greatness.

2

It

It has been already declared, that Shakefpear is not to be tried by any code of critic laws; nor is it more equitable to judge him entirely by the practice of any particular theatre. Yet fome criterion must be established by which we may determine his merits. First, we must take into confideration what is propofed to be done by the means of dramatic imitation. Every fpecies of poetry has its diftinct offices. The effecting certain moral purposes, by the representation of a Fable, feems to have been the universal intention, from the first inftitution of the Drama to this time; and to have prevailed, not only in Europe, but in all countries where the dramatic art has been attempted. It has indeed been the common aim of all poetry to please and instruct; but by means as various as the kinds of compofition. We are pleased with the ode, the elegy, the eclogue; not only for having Invention, fpirit, elegance, and fuch perfections as are neceffary to recommend any fort of poetry, but we alfo require that

each

A

each should have its specific merit; the ode, that which conftitutes the perfection of an ode, &c. In thefe views, then, our author is to be examined. First, whether his Fables answer the nobleft end of Fable, moral inftruction; next, whether his dramatic imitation has its proper dramatic excellence. In the latter of these articles, perhaps, there is not any thing will more affift our judgment than a candid comparison (where the nature of the fubjects will bear it) between his, and fome other celebrated dramatic compofitions. It is idle to refer to a vague unrealized idea of Perfection : we may fafely pronounce That to be well executed, in any art, which after the repeated efforts of great geniufes is equal to any thing which has been produced. We may fecurely applaud what the ancients have crowned, therefore should not withold our approbation wherever we find our countryman has equalled the most admired paffages in the Greek tragedians; but we shall not do justice to his native talents, when they are the ob

ject