which he gives us as his own invention. Such is the scene in which Hamlet is firft informed of the appearance of his father's ghoft; fuch the garden fcene in Romeo and Juliet; and fuch the scene in which lago firft awakens the jealoufy of Othello; and fuch an hundred others. The characters of Shakespeare, alfo, are not only drawn with force and correctness, but many of them are of a very uncommon and original caft.-Such as Falstaff, Polonius, Jaques, Menenius, &c. Characters like thefe require the utmost careand delicacy in the execution, and afford the highest degree of entertainment when touched by the hand of a master: they are not so much clofe and exact copies of nature, as bold imitations; they are not, perhaps, fuch characters as do exift, but, when once invented, fuch as might eafily be fuppofed to exift. We perceive that they are fo conftructed as to difplay the most perfect knowledge of the human mind; that the component parts of these characters are ftrictly confonant to thofe ideas of truth and nature which we find in our own breafts; but the combination is wholly new. Who will venture to affert, that the character of Falstaff is unnatural but, if we look into real life, where fhall a Falstaff be found? it was to be found in the inexhauftible imagination of Shakespeare only :-though, fo exquifite is the workmanship of this "journeyman of nature," that it would scarcely feem hyperbolical and extravagant to fay, with the poet,

"Nature herself, amaz'd, may doubting stand,
"Which is her own, and which the painter's hand."

;

It

It is further obfervable, that in characters of the fame clafs, we find the nicest and most curious fhades of difcrimination.The heroines of Corneille are all of a family; but if we furvey with attention the characters of Defdemona, of Imogen, of Ophelia, of Juliet, &c. all innocent and amiable, we perceive that each has her peculiar traits, which distinguish her from the reft:Juliet has not the artlessnefs and fimplicity of Defdemona; Imogen has not the courage and refolution of Juliet; Ophelia has not the tender and delicate affection of Imogen; nor Defdemona the filial piety of Ophelia. Another remarkable circumftance relating to this astonishing prefervation of character is, that he is always careful to imitate, and not merely to defcribe, the feelings and paffions of the different perfonages of the drama: the diftinction between imitation and defcription has been well illustrated by Lord Kaims; and it is certain, that nothing less than a genuine expreffion of paffion can awaken the attention or fympathy of the fpectator. Shakespeare deals very little in loofe and unmeaning declamation in trying and critical fituations, we have ufually the language of nature bursting from the heart; or if he fails, it is not by falling into the undramatical and uninterefting language of defcription, but into fentiments too much laboured, harfh or unfeasonable metaphors, or quaint and farfetched conceits. Othello, when perfectly convinced of the falfehood of Defdemona and the treachery

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treachery of Caffio, thus exclaims, in the most perfect imitation of paffion that can be conceived:

Othe Oh! that the flave had forty thousand lives
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge!
Now do I fee 'tis true.. -Look here, Iago;
fond love thus do I blow to heaven:

All my

"Tis gone.

Arife, black Vengeance, from thy hollow cell!
Yield up, O Love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous Hate! fwell, bofom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of afpicks tongues!

Iago. Yet be content.

Oth. Oh! blood, blood, blood,

Jago. Patience, I fay; your mind, perhaps, may change.

But here the language of imitation changes to that of description :

Oth. Never, Iago Like to the Pontick fea,
Whofe icy current and compulfive courfe
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontick, and the Hellefpont;
Even fo my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
Till that a capable and wide revenge

Swallow them up,

Beautiful as this comparifon is, we feel the impropriety of it in the fituation and circumstances of the speaker: this is a remarkable deviation from Shakespeare's ufual mode of writing; but if we look into modern plays, and into the works of the French dramatists, we shall find imitation of paffion scarcely attempted, and defcription every where prevalent.

The next remarkable characteristic of this great poet which offers itself to notice is, the beauty

and

and energy of his diction. It is now two hundred years fince he commenced writer, and in this time. his language has acquired a certain obfolete caft, an air of antiquity, which it must be owned is of no advantage to his comedies, for the style of comedy fhould be always eafy and familiar; but which gives to his tragic compofitions an inexpreffible grace and dignity. This is a fpecies of excellence which modern writers cannot even attempt, without falling into a fort of literary mimicry which is productive of a very ludicrous effect, as the tragedies of Cumberland fully evince. The beautiful concluding lines of Dryden's epiftle to Kneller, are as applicable to the art of poetry as to that of painting; and it might have been as truly predicted of the works of a Shakespeare, as of thofe of a Raffaelle.

More cannot be by mortal art expreft,

But venerable age fhall add the reft.

For Time fhall with his ready pencil ftand,
Retouch your figures with his rip'ning hand;
Mellow your colours, and imbrown the teint;
Add every grace, which Time alone can grant;
To future ages fhall your fame convey,
And give more beauties than he takes away.

It cannot however be doubted, but that the style and diction of Shakespeare must have originally poffeffed merit of the highest kind; the most forcible as well as the most beautiful combination of words which the English language affords, are to be found in his works. Where, in the whole range of modern

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modern poetry, do we meet with fuch powers of expreffion as the following paffages exhibit, which on the cafual opening of a volume almost immediately present themselves.

All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment
Follow his ftrides; his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain facrificial whisperings in his ear.

Who dares, who dares,

In purity of manhood stand upright,
And fay, This man's a flatterer? If one be,
So are they all; for every grize of fortune
Is fmooth'd by that below: the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique ;-
-Here's gold; go on;-

Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er fome high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the fick air.

-What! think'ft thou

That the bleak air, thy boift'rous chamberlain,
Will put thy fhirt on warm? Will these mofs'd trees,
That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels;

And fkip when thou point'ft out? Will the cold
brook,

Candy'd with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's furfeit? Call the creatures
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven; whofe bare unhoufed trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,

Answer meer nature-bid them flatter thee;
Oh, thou fhalt find

-Oh! dear divorce (looking on the gold.)
"Twixt natural fon and fire! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's pureft bed! thou valiant Mars!

Thou