es of the Athenian drama; that the last alone
deserved the name of a principle, and that in the preservation of this
unity Shakespeare stood pre-eminent. Yet, instead of unity of action, I
should greatly prefer the more appropriate, though scholastic and uncouth,
words homogeneity, proportionateness, and totality of
interest,--expressions, which involve the distinction, or rather the
essential difference, betwixt the shaping skill of mechanical talent, and
the creative, productive, life-power of inspired genius. In the former
each part is separately conceived, and then by a succeeding act put
together;--not as watches are made for wholesale--(for there each part
supposes a pre-conception of the whole in some mind),--but more like
pictures on a motley screen. Whence arises the harmony that strikes us in
the wildest natural landscapes,--in the relative shapes of rocks, the
harmony of colours in the heaths, ferns, and lichens, the leaves of the
beech and the oak, the stems and rich brown branches of the birch and
other mountain trees, varying from verging autumn to returning
spring,--compared with the visual effect from the greater number of
artificial plantations?--From this, that the natural landscape is effected,
as it were, by a single energy modified _ab intra_ in each component part.
And as this is the particular excellence of the Shakespearian drama
generally, so is it especially characteristic of the _Romeo and Juliet_.

The groundwork of the tale is altogether in family life, and the events of
the play have their first origin in family feuds. Filmy as are the eyes of
party-spirit, at once dim and truculent, still there is commonly some real
or supposed object in view, or principle to be maintained; and though but
the twisted wires on the plate of rosin in the preparation for electrical
pictures, it is still a guide in some degree, an assimilation to an
outline. But in family quarrels, which have proved scarcely less injurious
to states, wilfulness, and precipitancy, and passion from mere habit and
custom can alone be expected. With his accustomed judgment, Shakespeare
has begun by placing before us a lively picture of all the impulses of the
play; and, as nature ever presents two sides, one for Heraclitus, and one
for Democritus, he has, by way of prelude, shown the laughable absurdity
of the evil by the contagion of it reaching the servants who have so
little to do with it, but who are under the necessity of lettin