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II.-SHAKSPEARE.

AFTER having spoken of Young, I proceed to a man who has made a schism in literature, who is idolized by the country which gave him birth, admired throughout the North of Europe, and placed by some Frenchmen at the side of Corneille and Racine.

It was Voltaire, who made France acquainted with Shakspeare. The opinion, which he at first formed of English tragedy, was, like most of his early opinions, replete with justice, taste, and impartiality. In a letter to Lord Bolingbroke, written about the year 1730, he observed: "With what pleasure did I see, while in London, the tragedy of Julius Cæsar, which has been the delight of your nation for a century and a half!" On another occasion he said: "" Shakspeare created the English stage. He had a genius abounding with vigorous conception; he was natural and sublime, but he did not possess a single spark of taste, or the least knowledge of rules. I shall make a bold assertion, but a true one, when I state that this author spoiled the English stage. There are such beautiful scenes, such grand and terrible passages in his monstrous farces, which are called tragedies, that his pieces have always been performed with great success."

Such were the first decisions of Voltaire as to Shakspeare; but when an attempt was made to set up this great genius as a model of perfection, when the masterpieces of the Greek and French drama were declared inferior to his writings, then the author of Merope perceived

the danger. He perceived that by elevating the beauties of a barbarian he had misled those, who were unable, like himself, to separate the pure metal from the dross. He wished to retrace his steps, and attacked the idol he had worshipped; but it was then too late, and he in vain repented that he had opened the gate to mediocrity, and assisted, as he himself said, in placing the monster on the altar: Voltaire had made England, which was then but little known, a sort of marvellous country to supply him with such heroes, opinions, and ideas as he wanted. Towards the close of his life he reproached himself with this false admiration, of which he had only availed himself to support his doctrines. He began to discover its lamentable consequences, and might unfortunately exclaim: "Et quorum pars magna fui."

M. de la Harpe, an excellent critic, in his analysis of Shakspeare's Tempest, which was translated into French by M. Le Tourneur, exposed to full view the gross irregularities of Shakspeare, and avenged the cause of the French stage. Two modern authors, Madame de Staël Holstein and M. de Rivarol have also passed sentence on the great English tragic poet; but it appears to me that notwithstanding so much has been written on this subject, several interesting remarks may yet be made.

As to the English critics, they have seldom spoken the truth respecting their favourite poet. Ben Johnson, who was first the disciple, and then the rival of Shaks peare, shared with him at first their good opinion. Pope observes that "they endeavoured to exalt the one at the expense of the other." Because Ben Johnson had much the more learning it was said, on the one hand, that Shakspeare had none at all; and because Shakspeare had much the most wit and fancy, it was retorted on the other that Johnson wanted both. Ben Johnson is only

known at the present day by his Fox and his Alchy

mist.*

Pope displayed more impartiality in his criticisms. "Of all English poets," says he, "Shakspeare must be confessed to be the fairest and fullest subject for criticism, and to afford the most numerous, as well as most conspicuous instances, both of beauties and faults of all sorts."

If Pope had abided by this judgment, he would have deserved praise for his moderation; but soon afterwards he is hurried away by the prejudices of his country, and extols Shakspeare above every genius ancient and modern, He goes so far as even to excuse the lowness of some characters in the English poet by this ingenious compa rison. "In these cases," says he, "Shakspeare's genius is like some prince of a romance in the disguise of a shepherd or peasant; a certain greatness of spirit now and then breaks out, which manifest his higher extraction and qualities."+

*Surely at present better known by Every Man in his Humour than any of the pieces mentioned by the author. The Fox is never performed, and the Alchymist, which Garrick reduced to a farce, under the title of the Tobacconist, for the purpose of displaying his own ini:nitable powers in the character of Abel Drugger, has been also laid on the shelf, none of our modern performers having attempted that part except Mr. Emery. The great actor of the present day, however, Mr. Kean, is about to appear in the character.-EDITOR.

+ M. de Chateaubriand has here been guilty of a great oversight, for I will not suppose that he has wilfully perverted Pope's meaning to support his own philippic against our immortal bard. He seems to think that the above quotation was made upon tragedy, whereas it was made upon comedy, and every one must be aware that strictures upon the one are very unlike to be just as to the other. That the reader may judge for himself I will quote the whole passage from Pope. "In tragedy," says he, "nothing

Theobald and Sir Thomas Hanmer follow in their turn. Their admiration is without bounds. They attack Pope for having made some trifling corrections in the works of the great poet. The celebrated Dr. Warburton, who undertook the defence of his friend, informs us that Mr. Theobald was a poor man, and Sir Thomas Hanmer a poor critic; that he gave money to the former, and notes to the latter. Even the good sense and discrimination of Dr. Johnson seems to forsake him when he speaks of Shakspeare. He reproaches Rymer and Voltaire for having said that the English tragic poet does not sufficiently preserve a verisimilitude of manners-that Shakspeare's Romans are not sufficiently Roman, and his kings not completely royal. "These,” says he, "are the petty cavils of petty minds. A poet overlooks the casu-al distinctions of country and condition, as a painter, satisfied with the figure, neglects the drapery." It is useless to descant upon the bad taste and falsity of this criticism. The verisimilitude of manners, far from being the drapery, is the leading feature of the picture itself. All those cri

was so sure to surprise and cause admiration, as the most strange, unexpected, and consequently most unnatural events and incidents; the most exaggerated thoughts; the most verbose and bombast expressions; the most pompous rhimes, and thundering versifications. In comedy, nothing was so sure to please as mean buffoonery, vile ribaldry, and unmannerly jests of fools and clowns. Yet even in these our author's wit buoys up, and is borne above his subject; his genius in those low parts is like some prince of a romance in the disguise of a shepherd or peasant; a certain greatness and spirit now and then break out, which manifest his higher extraction and qualities." Surely Pope distinctly alludes, in these last lines, to comedy. As an excuse for the introduction of low parts among those of a graver cast, he merely says that Shakspeare" writ to the people," that "the audience was generally composed of the meaner sort," and that he was obliged to hit the taste and humour of the times, in order to gain a subsistence.-EDITOR,

tics, who incessantly dwell on nature, regarding the "casual distinction of country and condition" as prejudices of the art, are like those politicians who plunge states into barbarity, by wishing to annihilate social distinctions.

I will not enter into the opinions of Rowe, Steevens, Gildon, Dennis, Peck, Garrick, &c. Mrs. Montague has surpassed them all in point of enthusiasm. Hume and Blair are the only persons, who keep within tolerable bounds. Sherlock has dared to say (and it required courage even for an Englishman to go so far) that there is nothing in Shakspeare, which can be called mediocrity; that all he has written is either excellent or detestable; that he never followed nor even conceived a plan, excepting, perhaps, that of the Merry Wives of Windsor; but that he often writes a scene very well. This critique very nearly approaches the truth.

Mr. Mason, in his Elfrida and Caractacus, has tried, but without success, to transplant the tragedy of Greece into England. The Cato of Addison is now hardly ever played. At the Theatres of Great Britain the audience is only diverted by the monstrosities of Shakspeare, or the horrors of Otway.

Were we contented to speak vaguely of Shakspeare, without deliberately weighing the question, and without reducing criticism to some particular points, we should never arrive at any proper explanation; for by thus confounding the age in which he wrote with the genius of the individual, and the dramatic art itself, every one might praise or censure the father of the English Theatre according to his inclinations. It appears to us that Shakspeare should be considered with reference to all the three points, which I have just stated.

First, then, as to the age in which he lived, Shakspeare cannot be very much admired. He was perhaps superior to his cotemporary Lope de Vega, but he can,