ened, turned into abiding picture; and this, after he had chosen his
theme from Cinthio or Bandello or elsewhere, he would employ for the
background in his Verona or his Venice. How powerfully this can be done
by the imagination of genius is well exemplified in _Wilhelm Tell_,
which, from its opening verses of _Es laechelt der See_, carries in it
the whole sense of Swiss landscape and Swiss air, although Schiller had
never set foot in Switzerland.

Over and above all this, a man whose heart and whose interests are alike
engaged in a particular profession, be he physician, or inventor, or
artist, and who is ambitious to excel and prosper in that profession,
will be for ever alert to every hint or lesson which will make for
success. Shakespeare was from his heart a playwright; he was at the same
time a shrewd business man as partner in a theatre. Not only did he love
his work with all the passion of a creator, he was also concerned to
outvie his professional rivals. The plays of the Globe must be better
than the plays of the Fortune. He therefore studied existing dramas, in
order to surpass them, if possible, at every point. He began by
recasting or improving the plays of feebler writers, and so learned to
distinguish what was effective from what was not. He then went on in the
effort--an easy effort it proved to him--to transcend the plays of
writers of strength; to transcend them in construction, in
characterisation, in intellectual matter, in humour, and in diction; and
this means that his aim was, by compulsion, high.

The standard already set was a lofty one. Marlowe's mighty line was not
easy to surpass. There is nothing which provokes the best efforts of
genius so powerfully as formidable predecessors and rivals. It is as
with the forest trees; if some grow tall, the rest will struggle to
grow taller, so that they may escape from the shade into the sun. The
University Wits and scholar poets, who had "climbed to the height of
Seneca his style," deserve no little thanks for the making of our
Shakespeare. If his pieces were to be performed before the Queen's
Majesty, or the King's Majesty, and all that cultivated court, or if
they were to receive the applause of the learned Benchers of Gray's Inn,
they must attain a distinguished level both of living interest and of
admirable poetry. Shakespeare's precursors had rendered this high
perfection indispensable.

Let me insist also on another consideration, too often over