liar homes, to the grandeur of heroic recollections, to
the awe of religion, and to the pomp, the magnificence, and the beauty
of a gorgeous yet intellectual art.

The Greek Tragic drama is from end to end in verse; and unavoidably,
because 'tis a part of a splendid religious celebration. It is involved
in the solemn pomp of a festival. Therefore it dons its own solemn
festival robes. The musical form is our key to the spirit. And in that
varying musical form there are three degrees--first, the Iambic, nearest
real speech--second, the Lyrical dialogue, farther off--third, the full
Chorus--utmost removal. Pray, do not talk to us of the naturalness of
the language. You never heard the like spoken in all your days. Natural
it was on that stage--and over the roofless theatre the tutelary deities
of Athens leant listening from the sky.

The model, or law, or self of the English drama, is _Shakspeare_. The
character of his drama is, the imaging of nature. A foremost
characteristic of nature is infinite and infinitely various production,
expressing or intimating an indefatigably and inexhaustibly active
spirit. But such a spirit of life, so acting and producing, appears to
us as a fountain, ever freshly flowing from the very hand of God. All
_that_ Shakspeare's drama images; and thus his art appears to us, as
always the highest art appears to us to be, a Divine thing. The musical
forms of his language should answer; and they do. They are; first,
prose; second, loose blank verse; third, tied blank verse; fourth,
rhyme.[1] This unbounded variety of the musical form really seems to
answer to the premised idea; seems really to clothe infinite and
infinitely varied intellectual production. Observe, we beseech you, what
varieties of music! The rhyme--ay, the rhyme--has a dozen at
least;--couplets--interlaced rhyme--single rhyme and
double--anapests--diverse lyrical measures. Observe, too, that speakers
of all orders and characters use all the forms. Hamlet, Othello, Lear,
Coriolanus, Lance, use prose; Leontes and his little boy, Lear,
Coriolanus, and his domestics--to say nothing of the Steward--Macbeth
and his murderlings, use blank verse. Even Falstaff, now and then, a
verse. All, high and low, wise, merry, and sad, _rhyme_. Fools, witches,
fairies--we know not who else--use lyrical measures. Upon the whole, the
_uttermost_--that is, the musical form--answers herein to the
_innermost_ spirit. The spirit, endlessly-varying, create