ticism upon Shakspeare, "though
to do it effectually, and not superficially, would be the best occasion
that any just writer could take to form the judgment and taste of our
nation." His humbler aim is but to give an account of the fate of his
works, and the disadvantages under which they have been transmitted to us.
But he cannot neglect the opportunity thus afforded him, "of mentioning
some of the principal and characteristic excellences for which
(notwithstanding his defects) _he is justly and universally elevated above
all other dramatic writers_."

"If ever any author deserved the name of an _original_, it was
Shakspeare. Homer himself drew not his art so immediately from the
fountains of nature; it proceeded through Egyptian strainers and
channels, and came to him not without some tincture of the learning,
or some cast of the models, of those before him. The poetry of
Shakspeare was inspiration indeed: he is not so much an imitator, as
an instrument, of Nature; and it is not so just to say that he speaks
from her, as that she speaks through him.

"His _characters_ are so much nature herself, that it is a sort of
injury to call them by so distant a name as copies of her. Those of
other poets have a constant resemblance, which shows that they
received them from one another, and were but multipliers of the same
image; each picture, like a mock rainbow, is but the reflection of a
reflection. But every single character in Shakspeare is as much an
individual as those in life itself; it is as impossible to find any
two alike; and such as from their relation or affinity in any respect
appear most to be twins, will, upon comparison, be found remarkably
distinct. To this life and variety of character, we must add the
wonderful preservation of it; which is such throughout his plays,
that had all the speeches been printed without the very names of the
persons, I believe one might have applied them with certainty to
every speaker.

"The _power_ over our _passions_ was never possessed in a more
eminent degree, or displayed in so different instances. Yet all
along, there is seen no labour, no pains to raise them; no
preparation to guide or guess to the effect, or be perceived to lead
toward it, but the heart swells, and the tears burst out, just at the
proper places; we are surprised at th