formation had filled the kingdom with theological learning; most of the topicks of human disquifition had found English writers, and poetry had been cultivated, not only with diligence, but fuccefs. This was a ftock of knowledge sufficient for a mind so capable of appropriating and improving it.

But the greater part of his excellence was the product of his own genius. He found the English stage in a state of the utmost rudeness; no essays either in tragedy or comedy had appeared, from which it could be discovered to what degree of delight either one or other might be carried. Neither character nor dialogue were yet understood. Shakespeare may be truly said to have introduced them both amongst us, and in fome of his happier scenes to have carried them both to the utmoft height.

By what gradations of improvement he proceeded, is not eafily known; for the chronology of his works is yet unfettled. Rowe is of opinion, that perhaps we are not to look for bis beginning, like those of other writers, in his leaft perfect works; art bad fo little, and nature fo large a fhare in what be did, that for ought I know, fays he, the performances of bis youth, as they were the most vigorous, were the best. But the power of nature is only the power of using to any certain purpose the materials which diligence procures, or opportunity fupplies. Nature gives no man knowledge, and when images are collected by study and experience, can only affift in combining or applying them. Shakespeare, however favoured by nature, could impart only what he had learned ; and as he must increase his ideas, like other mortals, by gradual acquifition, he, like them, grew wifer as he grew

older, could display life better, as he knew it more, and instruct with more efficacy, as he was himself more amply inftructed.

There is a vigilance of observation and accuracy of distinction which books and precepts cannot confer; from this almost all original and native excellence proceeds, Shakespeare must have looked upon mankind with perspicacity, in the highest degree curious and attentive. Other writers borrow their characters from preceding writers, and diversify them only by the accidental appendages of pr.fent manners; the dress is a little varied, but the body is the fame. Our authour had both matter and form to provide; for except the characters of Chaucer, to whom I think he is not much indebted, there were no writers in English, and perhaps not many in other modern languages, which shewed life in its native colours.

The contest about the original benevolence or malignity of man had not yet commenced. Speculation had not yet at→ tempted to analyse the mind, to trace the paffions to their fources, to unfold the feminal principles of vice and virtue, or found the depths of the heart for the motives of action. All thofe enquiries, which from that time that human nature became the fashionable ftudy, have been made fometimes with nice difcernment, but often with idle fubtilty, were yet unattempted. The tales, with which the infancy of learning was fatisfied, exhibited only the fuperficial appearances of action, related the events, but omitted the causes, and were formed for fuch as delighted in wonders rather than in truth. Mankind was not then to be ftudied in the closet; he that would know the world, was under the neceffity of gleaning his own remarks, by mingling as he could in its bufinefs and amufements.

Boyle congratulated himself upon his high birth, because it favoured his curiofity, by facilitating his access. Shakefpeare had no fuch advantage; he came to London a needy

adventurer, and lived for a time by very mean employments. Many works of genius and learning have been performed in ftates of life, that appear very little favourable to thought or to enquiry; fo many, that he who confiders them is inclined to think that he fees enterprise and perfeverance predominating over all external agency, and bidding help and hindrance vanish before them. The genius of Shakespeare was not to be depreffed by the weight of poverty, nor limited by the narrow conversation to which men in want are inevitably condemned; the incumbrances of his fortune were shaken from his mind, as dewdrops from a lion's mane.

Though he had so many difficulties to encounter, and fo little affiftance to furmount them, he has been able to obtain an exact knowledge of many modes of life, and many casts of native difpofitions; to vary them with great multiplicity ; to mark them by nice distinctions; and to fhew them in full view by proper combinations. In this part of his performances he had none to imitate, but has himself been imitated by all fucceeding writers; and it may be doubted, whether from all his fucceffors more maxims of theoretical knowledge, or more rules of practical prudence can be collected, than he alone has given to his country.

Nor was his attention confined to the actions of men; he was an exact furveyor of the inanimate world; his descrip tions have always fome peculiarities, gathered by contemplating things as they really exist. It may be obferved, that the oldest poets of many nations preferve their reputation, and that the following generations of wit, after a fhort celebrity, fink into oblivion. The first, whoever they be, mult take their fentiments and defcriptions immediately from knowledge; the resemblance is therefore juft, their defcriptions are verified by every eye, and their fentiments acknowledged by every breaft. Those whom their fame invites to

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the fame ftudies, copy partly them, and partly nature, till the books of one age gain fuch authority, as to stand in the place of nature to another, and imitation, always deviating a little, becomes at laft capricious and cafual. Shakespeare, whether life or nature be his subject, fhews plainly, that he has seen with his own eyes; he gives the image which he receives, not weakened or distorted by the intervention of any other mind; the ignorant feel his reprefentations to be juft, and the learned see that they are compleat.

Perhaps it would not be easy to find any authour, except Homer, who invented so much as Shakespeare, who fo much advanced the studies which he cultivated, or effused so much novelty upon his age or country. The form, the characters, the language, and the shows of the English drama are his. He feems, fays Dennis, to bave been the very original of our English tragical barmony, that is, the harmony of blank verfe, diverfified often by disfyllable and triffyllable terminations. For the diverfity diftinguishes it from beroick barmony, and by bringing it nearer to common ufe, makes it more proper to gain attention, and more fit for action and dialogue. Such verse we make when we are writing profe; we make such verfe in common converfation.

I know not whether this praise is rigorously juft. The diffyllable termination, which the critick rightly appropriates to the drama, is to be found, though, I think, not in Gorboduc, which is confessedly before our authour, yet in Hieronymo, of which the date is not certain, but which there is reafon to believe at least as old as his earliest plays. This however is certain, that he is the first who taught either tragedy or comedy to please, there being no theatrical piece of any older writer, of which the name is known, exeept to antiquaries and collectors of books, which are fought

becaufe they are fearce, and would not have been scarce, had they been much esteemed.

To him we must afcribe the praise, unless Spenfer may divide it with him, of having firft discovered to how much fmoothness and harmony the English language could be softened. He has fpeeches, perhaps fometimes fcenes, which have all the delicacy of Rowe, without his effeminacy. He endeavours indeed commonly to ftrike by the force and vigour of his dialogue, but he never executes his purpose better, than when he tries to footh by softness.

Yet it must be at last confeffed, that as we owe every thing to him, he owes fomething to us; that, if much of his praise is paid by perception and judgment, much is likewife given by custom and veneration. We fix our eyes upon his graces, and turn them from his d formities, and endure in him what we should in another loath or despise. If we endured without praifing, respect for the father of our drama might excufe us; but I have feen, in the book of some modern critick, a collection of anomalies, which fhew that he has corrupted language by every mode of depravation, but which his admirer has accumulated as a monument of honour.

He has fcenes of undoubted and perpetual excellence, but perhaps/not one play, which, if it wete now exhibited as the work of a contemporary writer, would be heard to the conclufion. I am indeed far from thinking, that his works were wrought to his own ideas of perfection; when they were fuch as fatisfied the audience, they fatisfied the writer, It is feldom that authours, though more ftudious of fame than Shakespeare, rise much above the standard of their own age; to add a little to what is beft, will always be sufficient for prefent praife, and those who find themselves exalted into VOL. I.