udies, copy partly them, and partly nature, till the books of
one age gain such authority, as to stand in the place of nature to
another, and imitation, always deviating a little, becomes at last
capricious and casual. Shakespeare, whether life or nature be his subject,
shews 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 representations to be just, and the learned
see that they are complete.

Perhaps it would not be easy to find any author, except Homer, who
invented so much as Shakespeare, who so 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 seems, __SAYS DENNIS__, to have been the very original of our English
tragical harmony, that is, the harmony of blank verse, diversified often
by dissyllable and trissyllable terminations. For the diversity
distinguishes it from heroick harmony, and by bringing it nearer to common
use makes it more proper to gain attention, and more fit for action and
dialogue. Such verse we make when we are writing prose; we make such verse
in common conversation._

I know not whether this praise is rigorously just. The dissyllable
termination, which the critick rightly appropriates to the drama, is to be
found, though, I think, not in _Gorboduc_, which is confessedly before our
author, yet in _Hieronymo_, of which the date is not certain, but which
there is reason 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, except to antiquaries and collectors of books,
which are sought because they are scarce, and would not have been scarce,
had they been much esteemed.

To him we must ascribe the praise, unless Spenser may divide it with him,
of having first discovered to how much smoothness and harmony the English
language could be softened. He has speeches, perhaps sometimes scenes,
which have all the delicacy of Rowe, without his effeminacy. He endeavours
indeed commonly to strike by the force and vigour of his dialogue, but he
never executes his purpose better, than when he tries to sooth by
softness.

Yet it must be at last confessed that as we owe every thing to him,