fied, exhibited only the superficial
appearances of action, related the events, but omitted the causes, and
were formed for such as delighted in wonders rather than in truth. Mankind
was not then to be studied in the closet; he that would know the world,
was under the necessity of gleaning his own remarks, by mingling as he
could in its business and amusements.

Boyle congratulated himself upon his high birth, because it favoured his
curiosity, by facilitating his access. Shakespeare had no such 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
states of life that appear very little favourable to thought or to
enquiry; so many, that he who considers them is inclined to think that he
sees enterprize and perseverance predominating over all external agency,
and bidding help and hindrance vanish before them. The genius of
Shakespeare was not to be depressed 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 dew-drops
from a lion's mane_.

Though he had so many difficulties to encounter, and so little assistance
to surmount them, he has been able to obtain an exact knowledge of many
modes of life, and many casts of native dispositions; to vary them with
great multiplicity; to mark them by nice distinctions; and to shew 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 succeeding writers;
and it may be doubted, whether from all his successors 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
surveyor of the inanimate world; his descriptions have always some
peculiarities, gathered by contemplating things as they really exist. It
may be observed that the oldest poets of many nations preserve their
reputation, and that the following generations of wit, after a short
celebrity, sink into oblivion. The first, whoever they be, must take their
sentiments and descriptions immediately from knowledge; the resemblance is
therefore just, their descriptions are verified by every eye, and their
sentiments acknowledged by every breast. Those whom their fame invites to
the same st