monstrous, and he is the product of
unnatural lust; and his language is as hobgoblin as his person; in all
things he is distinguished from other mortals. The characters of
Fletcher are poor and narrow, in comparison of Shakspeare's; I
remember not one which is not borrowed from him; unless you will
except that strange mixture of a man in the "King and no King;" so
that in this part Shakespeare is generally worth our imitation; and to
imitate Fletcher is but to copy after him who was a copyer.

Under this general head of manners, the passions are naturally
included, as belonging to the characters. I speak not of pity and of
terror, which are to be moved in the audience by the plot; but of
anger, hatred, love, ambition, jealousy, revenge, &c. as they are
shown in this or that person of the play. To describe these naturally,
and to move them artfully, is one of the greatest commendations which
can be given to a poet: to write pathetically, says Longinus, cannot
proceed but from a lofty genius. A poet must be born with this
quality: yet, unless he help himself by an acquired knowledge of the
passions, what they are in their own nature, and by what springs they
are to be moved, he will be subject either to raise them where they
ought not to be raised, or not to raise them by the just degrees of
nature, or to amplify them beyond the natural bounds, or not to
observe the crisis and turns of them, in their cooling and decay; all
which errors proceed from want of judgment in the poet, and from being
unskilled in the principles of moral philosophy. Nothing is more
frequent in a fanciful writer, than to foil himself by not managing
his strength; therefore, as, in a wrestler, there is first required
some measure of force, a well-knit body and active limbs, without
which all instruction would be vain; yet, these being granted, if he
want the skill which is necessary to a wrestler, he shall make but
small advantage of his natural robustuousness: so, in a poet, his
inborn vehemence and force of spirit will only run him out of breath
the sooner, if it be not supported by the help of art. The roar of
passion, indeed, may please an audience, three parts of which are
ignorant enough to think all is moving which is noisy, and it may
stretch the lungs of an ambitious actor, who will die upon the spot
for a thundering clap; but it will move no other passion than
indignation and contempt from judicious men. Longinus, whom I have
hitherto fol