ngth of
Jonson's genius, the power with which he has compelled all manner of
unlikely elements into his service, is evident enough, but the result
usually wants charm. The drawbacks are (always excepting _The Alchemist_)
least perceptible in _Every Man in his Humour_, the first sprightly
runnings (unless _The Case is Altered_ is older) of Jonson's fancy, the
freshest example of his sharp observation of "humours." Later he sometimes
overdid this observation, or rather he failed to bring its results
sufficiently into poetic or dramatic form, and, therefore, is too much for
an age and too little for all time. But _Every Man in his Humour_ is really
charming. Bobadil, Master Stephen, and Kitely attain to the first rank of
dramatic characters, and others are not far behind them in this respect.
The next play, _Every Man out of his Humour_, is a great contrast, being,
as even the doughty Gifford admits, distinctly uninteresting as a whole,
despite numerous fine passages. Perhaps a little of its want of attraction
must be set down to a pestilent habit of Jonson's, which he had at one
time thought of applying to _Every Man in his Humour_, the habit of giving
foreign, chiefly Italian, appellations to his characters, describing, and
as it were labelling them--Deliro, Macilente, and the like. This gives an
air of unreality, a figurehead and type character. _Cynthia's Revels_ has
the same defects, but is to some extent saved by its sharp raillery of
euphuism. With _The Poetaster_ Jonson began to rise again. I think myself
that the personages and machinery of the Augustan Court would be much
better away, and that the implied satire on contemporaries would be tedious
if it could not, as it fortunately can, be altogether neglected. But in
spite of these drawbacks, the piece is good. Of _Sejanus_ and Jonson's
later Roman play _Catiline_ I think, I confess, better than the majority of
critics appear to think. That they have any very intense tragic interest
will, indeed, hardly be pretended, and the unfortunate but inevitable
comparison with _Coriolanus_ and _Julius Caesar_ has done them great and
very unjust harm. Less human than Shakespere's "godlike Romans" (who are as
human as they are godlike), Jonson's are undoubtedly more Roman, and this,
if it is not entirely an attraction, is in its way a merit. But it was not
till after _Sejanus_ that the full power of Jonson appeared. His three next
plays, _Volpone_, _Epicene_, and _The Alchemist